Orange and Navy (The Many Colours of Life and Death AU)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The Western Roman Empire stared in shock at the arrival of the ghosts. Their eyes were black and red and they each had their weapons drawn.

This reminds me of the Mongol Empire at the end of the Gold War, WRE thought.

Suddenly, their eyes flashed yellow, and they leapt forward to attack the nearest country towards them. WRE was unlucky enough to be next to the Holy Roman Empire.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" she cried. Her brother didn't answer, instead solely focused on taking her life.

Previously mind controlled countries were let go, some of them stumbling into the ghosts' swords in confusion.

The Dutch Empire joined her side, trapping HRE in a bubble of protection. The golden country pounded on the walls, but it didn't budge.

"What's going on? Why are they attacking us?" DE asked, dodging a stray attack from the British Empire.

"I don't know!" WRE panicked. She pulled the red, blue and white country out of the way of a fight between the Egyptian Empire and the Golden Horde.

"Can ROE mind control ghosts?" DE suggested.

"Maybe? He does... he has the power of the Mongol Empire... he could do whatever he pleases with them!" WRE's face went pale. Her father might actually win this war.

She felt mind control suddenly take her body over. This time, she didn't fight it.

It was already over.

The Ottoman Empire slipped. His foot missed the next hold, and he was sent plummeting. He wildly grabbed for a handhold, anything. His hand slammed into the spear, and he gripped it tightly. He was left dangling at the edge, the spear creaking under his weight.

He quickly grabbed another handhold, and shifted his weight back to the rock wall. He let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.

OE looked down, and then looked back at the wall. The drop was staggering. He didn't know how he'd survived the first time.

A trail of blood dripped down the rocks, staining the ocean below. His leg throbbed, and he was scared to put any more weight on it. He tested a foothold, and gasped at the agony. He couldn't do this.

Don't give up. If I die, I'll never get my memories back. I'll never be able to speak to anyone ever again without someone to help me. I'll never be able to see all the colours that make up this world. I'll only see the deadly colours of death, he thought to himself, remembering what the Swedish Empire had said about being a ghost. The world was only orange and navy for a ghost. He didn't want that.

He was going to live.

He tested the foothold again, and the familiar wave of pain washed through him again. But he continued to climb. This time, he looked up. Only... a metre to go. He pushed with his good leg, and finally, he could grasp the edge with his fingers. He hauled the spear over, and pulled himself halfway. OE stopped for a moment, gasping for air, then strained through the last bit, finally landing on the grass.

He'd done it.

He lived.

The Byzantine Empire watched as the Roman Empire took the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland's life with a simple sweep of the scythe. They'd been distracted by an illusion of the British Empire, and they weren't looking behind them.

The Kingdom of Ireland collapsed beside the body, letting out a choking sound. Nearby, the real British Empire was fighting off the ghost of the Spanish Empire.