Countryhumans: WW2

File Ten: An Empire Strikes Back

Britain coughed, his asthma gained from 1830's industrial revolution's smog was taking its toll as he was thrown into the dust. He coughed and choked, gagging as he raised his head. Fascist Italy's cocky grin was shining down in response. He laughed in an overly exaggerated manner. Two other voices piped up, sharp and stinging like a poison dart. "Igen! Put him down! Get him! Omoara-l!!" Britain groaned, strained to open his eyes and touched his fingers to his punch-bruised cheek. Romania and Hungary were chanting to Italy, they didn't have the emotionless tone that occupied countries like Netherlands and Belgium did. They were sentient. Britain gazed off at them, losing focus and giving way to sympathy. They had their minds filled with infecting, venomous lies. Fed by Italy, Britain would guess. As the thought filled his head, his shoulders tensed with annoyance at their jeering. Just as his vision focused, there was a flash of green as a strong force slammed his face, hard. A hot and sticky substance flew into the air, he opened his eyes as the force knocked him back. Was that... blood?

Britain slammed into the ground with a loud grunt of agony. Italy was heard chuckling in triumph. His supporters cheered behind him. Britain grumbled. He had agreed with Australia and New Zealand that he would drain Italy's strength until they arrived to retake the territory No matter how excruciatingly annoying it would be.... However, he trusted them with his life, so he picked himself up, trying to energize himself. He was Britain, father of the most advanced nations in the world, for Mesopotamia's sake! He shot to his feet blindly as if he were a bashed up boxer. He heard footsteps racing towards him. Not this time! He insisted to himself that he would never be defeated, not in a petty hand to hand combat battle like this.He dipped to the side, expecting a right hook from Italy. He was right, Italy was too predictable. Britain shook the blood from his eyes to get a better view, and in less than a moment, shoved Italy off of his feet. Pummeling him with his fists, the rest was a terrible blur. He was dimly aware of how he countered every following move. Though Italy was younger than him, he had no experience, therefore Britain could cover the progress Italy couldn't. All he had to do was hold his own until his children arrived. 

Britain's dazed composure was quickly replaced with rage. Rage for Poland. Rage for Czech. Rage for Austria. Rage for France! Once he got Italy pinned against the ground, his fists dived for Italy's body, pounding like well oiled machinery. Britain was so focused on making sure he'd down Italy for good, that he didn't hear the approaching footsteps of Hungary. Romania close in from behind. He felt their strong grips lock onto his shoulders, yelling in aggression, he kicked them both aside, despite their committed attempts to maintain their grip, however, their distraction was enough. He looked back at Italy, his anger a melting iceberg. Once sharp and jagged, now blunt and peaceful. He sighed and calmed after a few moments, he had won, it was clear. But Italy didn't have to die. Irritation was replaced with pity. Italy's frightened expression, however, turned to a sharp, toothy grin, his eyes moved from Britain's face to behind his shoulder.

Britain followed Italy's gaze. Reich! Before he could even react, she swung something heavy into Britain's head, causing him to topple over, Italy's cocky tone afterwards became fuzzy, but he could figure out that he was getting his head bitten off by Reich. He saw Italy's fuzzy figure pointing to the west, he heard "El Alamein." from him. By his tone, he must be trying to form some sort of smooth recovery that included him 'protecting' El Alamein. Which he didn't do a very good job of... Britain's thoughts started to cloud over one another. Before blacking out, he heard an optimistic yell, it's tone was absolutely ear piercing. Yet lovingly familiar. Australia. He was here, New Zealand at his heels. They were here, having faith in his children, Britain didn't fight the urge to close his eyes anymore. The territories were safe. The last thing he heard before blacking out was Reich's grunt of pain as she was pushed back, before the darkness swallowed him like a cloak.