There was a major source of negativity making a beeline for the mountains, where France had hidden the majority of his population. The group was in the car again, weaving in and out of the abandoned cars in the streets. Soon enough, the countryside was zipping past them, and before long, they were already approaching the mountains.

"Romania," France murmured, leaning forward in his seat, "drive faster."

"Got it."

The others weren't sure how France could have known, but France was certain that the doppelgangers were going to hurt his people. If anything, they would probably kill as much as they could without killing off the country, and thus, the dark counterpart.

"That would leave Dark France just as weakened," Belgium noted from behind him.

"But he is not the only doppelganger here," France said. At this, Belgium cleared her throat uneasily.

"So you can tell where they are? The doppelgangers, I mean?" asked Romania, peering at the sky.

"Not exactly. I can just feel a bad...feeling coming this way."

"How far away are they?" asked Spain.

"Not far."

"How much further do we have left to go before we get to your people?" asked Greenland.

"We're almost there."

A hand reached out to stop France, but he tried to shrug it off. It grasp on his shoulder tightened to the point he cringed, shooting a look to the Netherlands, who sat beside him. "What?"

"Dark Congo will be there, right?"

France's eyes flickered away from the Netherland's gaze. Almost at once, his head flew back, accompanied with a sickening crunch. There were cries of protest in the car, and Romania momentarily allowed the car to jerk back and forth. France thought he heard Spain actually yelling, but he couldn't really make any sense of it.

"If he is, I don't want Belgium there."

"Brother," Belgium scowled. But even in her voice, everyone could hear it. The hesitation, the fear.

France's head was pounding. It would be disastrous if Dark Congo ran into Belgium. If he saw her….if he saw her...what would he do?

"France."

Romania was slowing the car down. In the corner of his eye, France made out several soldiers from his army approach from a distance. Holding his head, he swung open the door of the car and held a hand, stopping the others from getting out.

Spain was watching Belgium tentatively. Rarely did she wear such an expression. It unnerved him greatly, and he glanced at the Netherlands to see what he would do next. The fact that even the Netherlands looked lost made Spain anxious.

"You should have gone with England," the Netherlands was saying.

"Perhaps," Belgium replied softly. "It's my fault for keeping it to myself."

"No, I should have noticed earlier. Sorry."

Belgium blinked and met the Netherland's gaze. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "What would Luxembourg say?" she asked, nudging her brother. "He'd be worried sick."

The Netherlands harrumphed, folding his arms. Belgium looked away.

Gunshots caused everyone to jump. Heads snapped to the side, where France was sprinting back, cursing. "Romania, drive, drive!" he roared. Another round of gunshots sounded and France's steps faltered. His spine seemingly gave way to his weight but he refused to fall.

Romania didn't hesitate to slam on the acceleration. The engine gave a great roar and jerked forward. The door that France had opened threatened to swing shut, but the Netherlands unbuckled his seatbelt, pushing the door back open with one hand and stretching the other towards France.

There were bloodstains on France's shirt. His face was contorted in pain, but he did not lose his pace.

"Hurry up," Romania gritted. "There's a cliff coming and there's no room for him to run alongside us!"

"France, jump!" the Netherlands ordered.

France began to reach out for his hand but a bullet pierced his outstretched hand, and he withdrew, and therefore, fell behind.

"France!" the Netherlands yelled.

"Hey, Netherlands, get a move on!" Romania called impatiently.

"Shut up," the Netherlands hissed, "I'm trying. There's a sniper. Who's shooting? Are they here? Spain, Greenland, cover us. Belgium, report to Germany."

Spain and Greenland opened the window they sat next to, groping for their guns. Greenland found his first. He hooked his feet underneath the armrest to his seat and pulled himself up to sit where he rolled the window down, setting the gun on the top of the car. He readied to shoot, but two things stopped him.

The first was France, who screamed at him not to do anything.

The second was the appearance of their attackers. They were not doppelgangers.

They were France's people.

"Spain, hold fire," Greenland yelled behind him when he heard Spain set his gun on the roof of the car.

"What? Wh-"

A hail of bullets showered around them. Simultaneously, they ducked down and stayed close to the car. Inside, Romania was screaming at the Netherlands to get France, and the Netherlands, in turn, was screaming at France.

"France, jump!" Romania yelled.

"FRANCE!" the Netherlands roared.

"HEY, HEY, THE CLIFF'S COMING-"

"FRANCE, GET THE FUCK IN HERE-"

"GET HIM IN HERE-"

The Netherlands, in a moment of uncharacteristic rage, cursed devilishly, and found a foothold near the edge of the open door. He hung onto the side and leaned out in the open, making a reach for France and dragging him back in the car.

"Romania, slow down!" Belgium called. "Germany, this is bad-Romania!"

"If I slow down, they'll catch us," Romania hissed. In the rear-view mirror, he could see several vehicles trailing behind them. To his side, Spain gasped and ducked back into the car. He gulped at the growing bloodstain on Spain's shirt.

"Brother!" Belgium shouted. She tossed the radio aside, leaving Germany on the other end yelling. Wrapping both arms around the Netherland's torso, she fitted her left foot against the inner side of the car and pushed off. At once, she could feel him squirm.

"Stop, stop, stop," the Netherlands scowled. "I'll fall, I'll fall!"

"Stop squirming and pull France off the ground at least," Belgium snapped.

"GET HIM UP NOW!" Romania screamed.

The Netherlands lunged for France's hand and yanked him off the ground. It wasn't enough to get him in, but the car jolted when it entered the new terrain; the Netherlands could see the drop down the cliff at this point.

"Romania, slow down," Spain muttered. "We can't afford to topple over."

Romania turned his head around to survey the situation. Belgium and the Netherlands were heaving France back into the car. The poor man was in near hysterics. Everytime Spain or Greenland went back up to shoot, France would thrash and let out a horrible wail.

There were so many things a country had to endure. Countries were not human, despite their anatomy. However, in this one moment, Romania thought that this was the most human he had ever seen a country.

"Oi, oi," Belgium breathed, "can't you do something to lose them? And keep your eyes on the road."

"Spain," Romania said loudly.

Spain ducked back in, sporting a new wounds. His breathing was heavy and strained. He used the back of his hand to wipe the sweat from under his nose. "W-what?"

"Spain, take over for me. Belgium, call Greenland back in," Romania murmured.

Spain reached over for the wheel and Romania got up from his seat, making his way down the narrow aisle in the car. When Greenland ducked back in, he maneuvered around him and was just about to go up himself when France moaned.

"What will you do to them?" he asked hoarsely. "Please don't kill them….they're not themselves. They're under the influence of those doppelgangers. Please don't hurt my people."

Romania hesitated, staring at him. He then looked up at the others, who were watching him grimly. "France," Romania said slowly, "if they're affected, then what about the rest of your people?"

"So what?" France barked. "You're going to kill them because they want to hurt us? We can take bullets, Romania, but they can't!"

Romania clicked his tongue to himself. "I'm not planning that," he said. "Look, we'll talk later."

With that, he poked his head out and watched the French behind them. He then held out a hand, fingers outstretched.

Greenland blinked several times. Romania's hand was glowing black. Or was it? He wasn't sure. Maybe those bullets were taking a toll on him.

Except, Belgium and the Netherlands were also watching with an odd expression. France even silenced himself for a moment before lashing out again.

"What is this?" he demanded. "Is this...Romania, do you practice magic too? I thought you said you won't kill them, you damn traitor!"

"I'm not hurting them," Romania snapped. The glow disappeared. He ducked back inside and pointed out the back window impatiently. "Take a look."

Tendrils of black matter had shot out of the ground, attaching themselves to the vehicles and slowing them to a slow stop. The larger tendrils had wrapped themselves in a labyrinth around the vehicles; the smaller tendrils held the people in place.

The Netherlands pressed his lips into a tight line. If he wasn't mistaken, every single one of France's people trapped in Romania's magic snare had a dark red glint in their eyes.

"That'll give us a few hours," Romania sighed, sitting back in a seat.

"And you didn't do that earlier because why?" asked Spain, bewildered.

Romania gave him a sheepish smile. "Didn't think it would come to that." His smile faltered under the Netherlands' glare. "Sorry, sorry, I was driving too and everything was chaotic at the time."

"You're our trump card," the Netherlands said simply.

Romania stared at him blankly. "You think that I'm enough to turn the tides?" Romania asked.

"Strategy," Belgium said. "Strategy is everything."

"Barely any time," France murmured. His composure had calmed down, and he was well enough to sit on his own. "Where's the first aid kit? We better patch up before we run into more trouble."

As Greenland grabbed bandages, he pointed to the radio and said, "So did Germany get any of this?"

Belgium pursed her lips. "I think he got some of it….I should get back to him."

"O-oh...probably."

The group were able to convince France that since the doppelgangers has taken over the minds of his people, they were in no danger. Most likely.

"He still needs them in order to survive too," Spain said to France.

France was still solemn. They had quite an agenda, and it had gotten burdensome. The first priority, according to Germany, was to find out if there were nuclear weapons hidden in the country. They had returned to the coordinates received back at Germany's and found the city peaceful. Regardless, everyone was on edge.

The second was to overthrow the doppelgangers. That alone was a tremendous feat. Considering the history behind the two doppelgangers in charge, they entertained the thought about waiting for the other teams to back them up. There was no shame in that. No shame at all.

"We have to search," the Netherlands said stiffly. "Before they find us. We need to stick close to this area."

"If these coordinates are wrong…." Greenland sighed.

"Come on, let's go," France murmured.

The entire hour was spent searching. The buildings within the general vicinity held nothing important. The underground sewers gave no leads. The rooftops of the buildings had nothing worth noting. The city square was empty and untouched.

"What's here that was so important they needed to have coordinates?" Romania asked, scratching the back of his head. He, Greenland, and Belgium had ran into each other at the corner of the city square, by the rows of trees. Though the situation was dire, the three found shade under the trees to share what news they might have found.

Greenland hummed nonchalantly. "I found faint blood stains around the square."

Belgium gave Greenland a surprised look. "How can you say that so easily?"

Greenland looked away. "Considering I've gotten my fair share of bullets today, I'm not really surprised. However…" His face darkened and he added sourly, "I'd hate to let France discover this."

Romania and Belgium shared a sigh. Leaning on the tree, Romania asked, "You say it's faint. Could it be an old stain-?"

"Can't be," Belgium replied. "People come through here all the time. Any possible blood stains from the past would not last."

"So it's recent."

"Most likely."

Romania cocked his head towards his companions. Troubled, he asked, "Doesn't that mean that someone's been cleaning up these stains?"

Greenland narrows his eyes. Belgium straightened her back, looking from Romania to Greenland.

They circled around the square, inspecting anything that looked suspicious. There were indeed many oddly colored stains that remained, all of varying shades. Whoever tried to clean them did a poor job; from far away they could have gotten away with it but up close, it was noticeable.

Belgium took a gander at their surroundings as the guys continued to study the remains. "Place des Quinconces," she said to herself.

"Sorry?" Romania and Greenland rose to meet her eye.

"The name of this square," Belgium explained. "It's one of the largest in Europe. I find it funny how it's all clear and empty though."

Romania suddenly whipped his head around, scanning the area. "You're right...doesn't France usually hold events around here?"

Belgium nodded.

The three jerked their heads up at the small crackle in their ear piece. "Where are you guys, Belgium, Romania, Greenland?" came France's voice.

Romania gulped. "The square. There's uh, stuff-"

"GET OUT."

Belgium immediately grabbed the other two and dragged them towards the trees, crouching. "What, why? What's going on, Brother?" she whispered.

"We've spot them," Spain's voice said. "They're heading your way."

"Who? Which ones?" Greenland asked anxiously.

"Guys, get back," Romania hissed, pulling the two behind the tree trunk.

The three observed the seemingly empty square. No one on the other side was responding, and it made the three worry that they decided it was best not to reveal that yet. They couldn't see anyone, nor could they hear or feel anyone. Nothing had changed.

Belgium was the first to feel him. Romania and Greenland caught it moments later.

"This hatred...it's too intense," Greenland gasped, falling to his knees.

The edges of Romania's mouth twitched open into a crooked smile. His right hand was clinging to his left wrist, as if to stop himself from trembling. There were beads of cold sweat rolling down the back of his neck.

Romania was a practitioner of dark magic. Such dark aura should not have a heavy effect on him. But this was different. There was something about this that was absolutely dreadful, something that he never wanted to feel again. This fear was unreal.

"I can't move…." Romania mouthed, but no one saw him.

Belgium knew immediately whose doppelganger was approaching. Her breathing began to pick up; her eyebrows furrowed deeply; her knuckles tightened until they were pale white.

One peek at the square confirmed it.

Dark Congo was here. And behind him were France's people.

Sorry that it's been a long time. I just realized that I start college next week, which is weird because I started this story as a freshman in high school. And look where we are. We're still not done with this story haha!

I know that I'll be busy in college, and I don't think anyone would want to wait another couple years for an update, so I might as well get down and try to advance as much as I can.

I'm not sure how serious you guys can take my word nowadays, but I do expect to write the next chapter for Doppelganger sometime later this week. If not, then oops, my bad, college stuff. It's orientation weekend. I'll probably end up ditching most of it and go for the free food. Guys, if college gives out free stuff, take it. Take all of it.

Jk. Only take things you know are legal and beneficial.

So history-wise, Belgium's King Leopold II was responsible for a lot of the Congo's sufferings during the early 1900s I believe? In my senior English class, we've read Heart of Darkness, which went into depth about the horrors of the Belgium rule over the Congo (would you call it a rule? I mean, they just took the land, forced the native people to strip their land of natural resources, and made money off of it.) If any of the native people misbehaved or performed poorly, punishment was given, which included cutting hands off.

That's barely the surface of it. I'ts currently 3 AM as I write this, and I don't want to go into depth about the atrocities that had been done to the native people. At least, not at this hour. Those who are interested, I suggest reading Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad. It's a tough book to get through (I think I've fallen asleep twice?) but it definitely speaks volumes.

Until next time, guys. Thank you for reading.