well, this is my first story and I really hope its good. I appreciate and encourage constructive criticism, so if you notice any errors (spelling and grammar especially) please tell me and I'll fix it. That's really all I have to say for now, so enjoy!

disclaimer: As much as I wish I did, I do not own Hetalia, any of its characters or pretty much anything else.

Prologue

"Alright!" America yelled, leaping from his seat and dashing to the front of the room. "Now that everyone is here, this world conference can begin. Because I'm the hero, I'll go first."

"He got to start last time," Prussia muttered, "someone else should start for a change… someone more awesome." Beside him, Germany elbowed his brother into silence as he scanned the room.

Japan look across the table at Germany, "Is everything arright, Germany-san? You look rearry stressed." The island nation studied his ally closely, concern in his eyes, "Is there something wrong?"

Germany shook his head, "Nein, nothing is wrong. I simply find these meetings annoying and pointless as nothing is ever accomplished. I hate to say it, but do not blame Italy for skipping out on these meetings."

Looking around with veiled surprise, Japan realized for the first time that Italy was not present. He wondered briefly where the Italian was, and then decided that it was none of his business; he should be paying attention to the meeting on the off chance that something important happened, not worrying about Italy. Japan turned his attention back to the meeting and found that fights and arguments had broken out throughout the room. Across the room, Turkey and Greece hurled insults at each other; Hungary chased France around the room, waving her frying pan over her head; America had left his place at the front and was poking England in the head with a ballpoint pen and its soft clicking was barely audible over the din that filled the room. Nearly everyone in the room was involved in some sort of dispute; only a few were still remaining calm and keeping their composure. Among them was Japan, of course, Germany, Liechtenstein, Russia, England and (surprisingly) Prussia; and even among them, a few seemed like they were barely holding on to their self-control, England especially.

Chapter 1- Hero Complex

England sighed, leaning back in his chair and massaging his temples as his annoying younger brother poked him repeatedly. He hated these world meetings, they always ended the same. It was enough to drive anyone mad. England could feel a headache coming on and he sighed once again, rolling his tense shoulders. He felt a hand on his shoulder and France whispered soft French words into his ear. The Brit jerked violently away and raised a hand to strike at France; he was beaten to it however by Hungary's frying pan. The makeshift weapon collided, full force, with the perverted nation's head and unfortunately, its momentum was too great for Hungary to pull it back before it struck England as well.

England and France both flew across the room, propelled by the incredible force behind Hungary's blow, and landed in a heap on the floor. Laughing his perverted laugh, France sprung to his feet and rushed off to molest someone else, still being chased by Hungary. England struggled to rise, but his vision swam and he collapsed back down, closing his eyes and wondering for the thousandth time why he even bothered coming to these meetings.

"Never fear, the hero is here!" America yelled, picking up England bridal style.

The Brit's eyes snapped open with shock, "get your bloody hands off me, you git!" he screamed.

His brother laughed, making no move to obey. He pranced across the room, England still in his arms, declaring himself the hero. As America paraded around the room with the angry nation in his grip, one of Greece's cats darted out from beneath the table and America stumbled, trying to avoid crushing the tabby cat. Unfortunately, as he tried to be the hero to the tiny cat, America lost his grip on his older brother, who fell to the floor yet again.

This time England had no trouble rising to his feet, he braced himself on the table, directing all of his anger at America, who had snatched up the cat and was lecturing it on not getting in a hero's way. England trembled with fury and began to chant in a chilling voice, slowly gaining volume as he went. As he incanted, the room grew silent, all turning to watch the infuriated nation. The air around America began to shimmer and swirl, forming a dark purple cloud around him. 'That's right', England though as he chanted, 'it's time for you to learn a lesson and overcome this hero complex of yours. You aren't as awesome as you think you are… it's time to face your fears, bloody git!'

"…I have a bad feeling about this…" a soft voice whispered, directly behind him.

England jumped with surprise, not having realized that someone was behind him, he faltered in his chant for a moment as he turned to face the nation behind him. The offending nation wore a red sweatshirt, was hugging a white bear to his chest and looked eerily similar to America. England stuttered for a moment before realizing his mistake and quickly trying to resume his chant, but it was too late. Normally, stopping mid-chant would end a spell, right then and there, but not this time; this spell was too far along and was too powerful to be stopped and now there was no one directing or controlling it.

The purple cloud pulsed violently and expanded, filling the whole room with the thick magical smoke. All of the nations present panicked as they found their air supply suddenly choked off. They all gasped for air for a few minutes, fighting the powerful magic around them, but one by one, they each slipped into unconsciousness.

Well, that's it for chapter one! I hope you liked it. With any luck, it won't be too long before I upload the next chapter, but I make no promises, life can be pretty busy.