Author's Note: I FINALLY GET TO DO THIS AGAIN! MY SELF-IMPOSED A/N BAN IS OVER! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!

Ahem. Anyways. I... actually don't have anything to say... wow. :/

But uh yeah, here, have an epilogue that completely turns the entire story on its head. Kinda. Not really.

You'll see.

Epilogue

Part One

"England! Play with us!"

England looks down, seeing the twins smiling up at him.

He can't resist smiling back.

"Not right now, OK? I have some work to do," England says, patting them both on the head.

"Aw... All you ever do is work!"

"Well, Al, it's hard to run a country." England leans down slightly to match the young nation's height. "Besides, don't you and Matt have work to do too?"

"We did it already!" Matt protests. "So we want to play now!"

"Maybe tomorrow. Today is..." England trails off as he remembers what day it is. "Today is... special."

The children seem to understand, and they walk away, leaving England to his thoughts.

It's the anniversary of the deaths of Alfred and Matthew. America and Canada. The countries that had fallen into turmoil, the lands that had been torn to pieces, the nations that had lived so little.

Who would have thought that they, the youngest of them all, would be the first to fall?

It was uncanny how similar the new twins were to the old ones. Al and Matt, named for their predecessors, were in almost all respects exactly the same as Alfred and Matthew, the only differences being some small personality quirks and, of course, experience and age.

Or so they thought.

Intermission: Rebuilding the Past

"Merde!"

France slams his fist into the wall, tears streaming from his eyes. Beside him, England is cradling the bodies of America and Canada to his chest, sobbing.

Other nations stand around the room; Germany, gently comforting a teary Italy; Russia, his smile for once gone, with his arms around Ukraine; China and Japan, their faces blank but sorrowful, eyes empty yet weary...

"We drove them to this," Japan says in a toneless voice. "We did this."

Germany glares at him as England and Italy both start wailing.

"It's true." Russia. "If we hadn't... If we hadn't placed so much stress on Canada, if we hadn't insisted America be punished so..."

"How were we supposed to know!" England bursts out. He his breathing is heavy, uneven. "How were we supposed to predict that they would... That they..."

His face crumples in pain, and France moves hastily to catch him before he falls. "Mon ami..."

"Oh god... What have we done?"

"Canada's not doing so well, is it, Republic?"

Republic looks up at England. "No. The country will probably fall soon. There's too much instability from within."

"I feared as much... Keep an eye out for any new nations, will you?"

"Of course."

Rebellion Successfully Overthrows Canadian Government, New "Concordia" Established

France sets down his papers and looks out the window. The sound of the birds chirping outside his countryside home, the crisp air rushing through the window, all of it reminds him of the young colony he once raised.

"Mon cher, it's been so long..."

He wonders how long it will be until the new nation emerges.

"I have someone I'd like you to meet." Republic's first words as he steps up to the podium for the first time in years. He turns to the doors at the end of the meeting hall. "You can come in now."

The doors creak open, and a small hand appears, followed by the top of a head, then another, and the nations collectively gasp.

The young children at the door are exactly the same as the ones who fell decades ago.

Curious but shy, the two stick close to each other as they make their way over to their mentor. Republic takes their hands.

"Everyone, meet Matt and Alex. North and South Concordia."

"England?"

"Yes, Alfre- I mean, Alex?"

"Me and Matt wanna go play!"

"Matt and I, Al. It's Matt and I."

"Matthieu! It is time for dinner!"

"Who is 'Matthieu'?"

"Ah... You, mon cher. It's a French version of your name."

Matt giggles. "But I'm Matt!"

"Yes... of course you are."

"Time to go home, boys."

"Aw! But I wanna play with England and France more!"

"Yeah, me too!"

Republic smiles indulgently at them. "Sorry, but not today. It's close to time for bed. You can come back tomorrow after your work is finished."

"Promise?" the two ask in unison.

"Promise."

"... Mattie?"

"Yeah, Al?"

"Let's promise to be together forever and ever, OK?"

"Yeah. Forever and ever and ever."

Part Two

"Maaaaaaaaaatt!" Alex jumps on his brother from behind, causing the northern nation to stumble.

"Ow! Al, don't do that!" Matt pushes his brother off. "Besides... This isn't the time for fooling around."

The twins unconsciously grip each other's hands as they gaze toward the clearing before them.

An ancient tree shades the area, emerald green light filtering through the thousands of leaves. In an unknown direction, a creek bubbles happily. The gentle wind caresses the blades of grass, rolling like waves. Birds sing in the branches, ants crawl the trunk, the occasional squirrel scampers up or down... It is a realm full of life.

And it is Alfred and Matthew's final resting place.

"I thought it would be a sad thing, going to your own grave," Matthew comments, shedding the facade of innocent young nation for a moment, finally letting himself relax into the weariness of holding up the world.

"Apparently not so," Alfred responds. His clear blue eyes hold traces of the true horror he had seen in another time, another life. "It's not really ours, anyways. We're not us."

"No..." The look in the northern twin's eyes is distant. "We're not America and Canada anymore, are we? We're not them. We're Concordia."

The southern brother laughs. "Concordia. A land of peace." He shakes his head. "They could have at least been more creative with naming us."

"They want peace."

"It won't happen."

"They know that as well as you and I. But they can dream, can't they? They can hope."

"Hopes and dreams were my downfall. What's to say it won't be theirs?"

"Not your downfall. Not anymore."

"No, I suppose not. Matt?"

The northern nation turns. "Yeah?"

"Why do we still remember our past lives? We died. Alfred and Matthew died. So why do we still feel like them?"

"I don't know, Al."

"Do you think we'll ever meet them again?"

"... I don't know. Do we even need to meet them again? We are them."

"But we aren't. We're just their shells."

"Maybe."

"Sometimes... sometimes I wish we hadn't been reborn with memories of our previous lives."

"But then we would have to relearn how to deal with being nations... We would have to experience that sorrow again. I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

"No, I suppose not. I just wonder why we were given a second chance."

"Maybe it's not a second chance. Maybe it's punishment for our crimes. For the things we did to each other and the world in the last war. Maybe it's fate forcing us to keep living when we could have had an end to our endless lives, just to spite us and torture us."

"Hah. Yeah. That could be it. But I'd rather believe it's a second chance, to right some of the wrongs we've committed."

"That's wishful thinking. But... I'd like to believe that too."

A long pause, then:

"Matt?"

"Yeah, Al?"

"Do the promises from before still stand?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't they?"

"So... We'll be together forever, right? Forever and ever and ever?"

"... Yeah. Forever and ever and ever."

The brothers sit down, leaning on each other, eyes on the sunset-painted horizon.

They sit there a long time.

"I thought it would be a sad thing, dying. I thought it would be cold, dark... I thought it would be terribly lonely.

"But now I realize you are right here with me, and I rejoice. Now I know that we will be together for eternity, and I can truly live."

"I thought it would be a happy thing, rebirth. I thought it would be miraculous, wonderful... I thought it would be so very warm.

"But now I realize that we are not who we were, and I weep. Now I know that we cannot return to what once was, and I wish for the oblivion of death."

"If we are to die alone, I want to hold your hand until the end. If we cannot be who we were, I would rather become a lingering afterthought with you. Though I yearn to truly live, I wish for the peace of death.

"I - no, we - have become memory, buried in the endless ocean of the past. Yet we are still alive. We are still here. We are still..."

"If we must survive to see another day, then let us live. Let us create a new memory, different from the one we have become. Let us fulfill the dreams we never got a chance to realize, let us see the hopes we've always held become reality. Though there are no such things as second chances... Let us believe. Let us believe we can change the world."

"Our legacy was cut short, our infinity truncated. We were orphaned by the unstoppable plodding of time. We were forgotten in the void of oblivion. We were left in the dust of inevitability. All we had left was a sliver of our shattered existences.

"So, together, let us create a shining future to replace it."

"Let us repair our fractured eternity."

"Until then..."

In the middle of a forest, a young blond and his twin brother lay a single zinnia blossom at the base of a tree.

"Until we meet again..."

"... Please..."

End

A/N: Zinnias, specifically yellow ones, can mean remembrance for someone who's absent. I could also have used dead leaves, which symbolize sadness, but... yeah.

I've always liked the idea of writing about someone dying, but not actually dying... At first, my idea was to make it so that America and Canada hadn't actually fully died, but everyone had thought they did, and for some reason they became young again upon revival, but the idea was too complicated to get across without outright stating it, so yeah... This happened.

Hope you liked it!