[He stares up at China's head, unable to process it at first. They'd worked so hard yesterday - so hard to save him, and for a second he'd thought they finally found another ally, someone they could trust, and now . . .
He approaches Vietnam, but doesn't say anything. What can you say to someone who just lost their entire family? He knows full well how useless words are right now. There's no comfort he can offer her, other than the promise to see the ones who did this dead.]
[He races after her instantly, and oh, he knows exactly what she's about to do. He's been here before, after all, would have done exactly the same if it hadn't been for his role in the game. And maybe it'd be a mercy, maybe it'd be the best for her, but he's selfish and he is not about to let his only ally here die as well.
So he chases after her, one hand out to try and grab her wrist.]
[Ukraine's gun is still abandoned in her room. She knows this. So it's to there that she runs, dashing up the staircase, and her mind is on one single straight track, completely focused on one thing: she needs to get her hands on that gun.
She feels Prussia grab for her wrist and she's yanked back, but she pulls herself free soundlessly and once she has her hands on Ukraine's gun it's all she can do not to put it to her head right then and there.
One bullet. Only one bullet. She finally looks up, as if seeing Prussia for the first time.]
[He puts one hand gently on the gun and looks her straight in the eye.]
Listen to me. Listen. Victory no matter what the cost, remember? Not now. Not when the war's still going on. We don't surrender. We take out every single one of those goddamn bastards first and we avenge our family and we don't give them what they want.
Don't let them break you, Vietnam. Not here, not now. Don't give them the satisfaction.
[She shakes her head, mutely. She doesn't try to pull the gun away, but she isn't relinquishing her grip, either.
Revenge. Revenge... No, what's the- what's the point, when they've already won, when they've taken away the only thing that's always grounded her, the only thing that's made her what she is, the only thing she's ever known-]
Please.
[Her voice is a low whisper, broken and lost. Let me go.]
[He recognizes that look, that voice, and the same expression crosses his own face. He gets it, he gets it - how many times has he been tempted to run his blade through his own heart, to share the same fate he'd forced onto his brother?]
I can't. After. We can -- if you still -- but not now.
[He licks his lips.]
You said to me once that the spirits of those who wrongly died linger on the land. If you do this now - if you give up while none of them stopped fighting, if you let all of their deaths be in vain, would you be able to look them in the eye when you join them? None of them chose to die. None of them ran from this war. It wouldn't be fair if we did.
Please. Let's give the dead their peace, at least. Once we do that, we can join them. But I can't just let all of those ghosts wander forever, knowing their murderers will never be caught.
[She did say that. She still believes it. And maybe that's what she deserves- for her spirit to roam, lost, aimlessly, bound to this bloody ground for an eternity.
It's a frightening thought, the future. A minute from now. An hour from now. Tomorrow. She's terrified of the idea of daring to continue to breathe right now. She's suffered so much, and for what? For what? Her people, they'll- they'll have to--
She's never considered how she would live her life without China, without that dragon to the north keeping her under his wing.]
[His voice comes out ragged, exhausted. He knows perfectly well what he's asking of her, how selfish he's being, but he can't lose the only person left here that he can trust. And part of him wonders . . . why is he trying to stop her? Why isn't he joining her? He no longer has anything to live for either.
But when he pictures his little brother's face, twisted in horror like in that goddamn painting . . . if there's any chance that Germany is trapped in that hell and that Prussia can free him from it, then he can't run away. Not yet.]
For our people. For all those who died. Two demons. Two days. And then afterwards, we can see our family again.
[Two more days. It feels like he's saying 'an eternity'. She doesn't know if she can wait that long. Why stay here? Why bother? Why not join her brother right now?
Her people-... For her people, she should be able to get out of here, should be able to go to be with them, but- they've always been strong, haven't they, they can survive without there, they will endure as they always have and rise up once more. If there is anything Vietnam is sure of in her heart right now, that is it. That is the only thing she is sure of.]
...
[She lifts the gun and very carefully presses it to the bottom of her chin.]
[He wraps his hands around hers and the gun, although he doesn't try pulling it away from her.]
. . . the butler said last night that those portraits aren't actually paintings. If that's what happens to the dead - if my brother is suffering like that and if winning this game has even the slightest chance of freeing him from his hell, then I can't run away. And I can't win this without you.
Tonight. If we don't kill a demon tonight, then you can do whatever you want. I won't try to stop you. But you can't help any of your family when you're dead. Please. Help me save them.
[He stares at her confusedly for a second before the shock of what she's telling him, what she's giving him means. Prussia doesn't use his human name often, even with his family - he's always considered himself a country above all else.
But . . . that wasn't true anymore, was it? Hasn't been true ever since he stared down at Germany's body, wondering what it would feel like having his blade pierce his own heart. They're human here, and it has nothing to do with whether or not they can die. He should be fighting for his people's survival with everything he has. Instead, all he wants is to see his brother again.
He takes a breath.]
Mine's Gilbert. [He pauses, and now his eyes are welling up as well.] My brother was Ludwig.
China... was Yao. [She tosses the gun into the bed and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand, nodding. Gilbert, Ludwig... She'll remember them. Her family is gone; there is no reason not to make a brother of the only person she can trust now, because a reason to keep living is a reason to keep living.]
Thank you, anh Gilbert.
[That's what she'll be from now on. She's already cast off her armor of Việt Nam. She is human here, as mortal as anything else that dies so easily. Her family is all dead; their bodies, so cold and so human, were evidence enough of that...
Sen is what she is now. Việt Nam does not deserve this death. But she can die as Sen.]
[It's startling, hearing his human name from another country's mouth - not even his brother had called him that. For a second, there's a flicker of his old fire in his eyes, but it dies when he reaches for the Iron Cross that should hang at his neck and finds only empty air. No, he hasn't been Prussia for a while, has he? That identity disappeared days ago, clutched in the hands of his dead brother.
No, he is no longer Prussia. But he will die as a Prussian, with pride and honor and courage, knowing he could have done nothing more.]
You as well. [And there will never be any warmth in his eyes anymore, but nonetheless, his face is a little less despairing, a little less hollow when he looks at Vietnam - Sen - again.] Fräulein Sen.
There is no expression on her face.]
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[He stares up at China's head, unable to process it at first. They'd worked so hard yesterday - so hard to save him, and for a second he'd thought they finally found another ally, someone they could trust, and now . . .
He approaches Vietnam, but doesn't say anything. What can you say to someone who just lost their entire family? He knows full well how useless words are right now. There's no comfort he can offer her, other than the promise to see the ones who did this dead.]
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She turns on her heel and runs, runs out of the Gallery, footsteps against the bloody floor, runs back into the depths of the mansion, trailing red.]
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[He races after her instantly, and oh, he knows exactly what she's about to do. He's been here before, after all, would have done exactly the same if it hadn't been for his role in the game. And maybe it'd be a mercy, maybe it'd be the best for her, but he's selfish and he is not about to let his only ally here die as well.
So he chases after her, one hand out to try and grab her wrist.]
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She feels Prussia grab for her wrist and she's yanked back, but she pulls herself free soundlessly and once she has her hands on Ukraine's gun it's all she can do not to put it to her head right then and there.
One bullet. Only one bullet. She finally looks up, as if seeing Prussia for the first time.]
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[He puts one hand gently on the gun and looks her straight in the eye.]
Listen to me. Listen. Victory no matter what the cost, remember? Not now. Not when the war's still going on. We don't surrender. We take out every single one of those goddamn bastards first and we avenge our family and we don't give them what they want.
Don't let them break you, Vietnam. Not here, not now. Don't give them the satisfaction.
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Revenge. Revenge... No, what's the- what's the point, when they've already won, when they've taken away the only thing that's always grounded her, the only thing that's made her what she is, the only thing she's ever known-]
Please.
[Her voice is a low whisper, broken and lost. Let me go.]
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I can't. After. We can -- if you still -- but not now.
[He licks his lips.]
You said to me once that the spirits of those who wrongly died linger on the land. If you do this now - if you give up while none of them stopped fighting, if you let all of their deaths be in vain, would you be able to look them in the eye when you join them? None of them chose to die. None of them ran from this war. It wouldn't be fair if we did.
Please. Let's give the dead their peace, at least. Once we do that, we can join them. But I can't just let all of those ghosts wander forever, knowing their murderers will never be caught.
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It's a frightening thought, the future. A minute from now. An hour from now. Tomorrow. She's terrified of the idea of daring to continue to breathe right now. She's suffered so much, and for what? For what? Her people, they'll- they'll have to--
She's never considered how she would live her life without China, without that dragon to the north keeping her under his wing.]
Prussia. [She sounds pained.]
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[His voice comes out ragged, exhausted. He knows perfectly well what he's asking of her, how selfish he's being, but he can't lose the only person left here that he can trust. And part of him wonders . . . why is he trying to stop her? Why isn't he joining her? He no longer has anything to live for either.
But when he pictures his little brother's face, twisted in horror like in that goddamn painting . . . if there's any chance that Germany is trapped in that hell and that Prussia can free him from it, then he can't run away. Not yet.]
For our people. For all those who died. Two demons. Two days. And then afterwards, we can see our family again.
Just two more days.
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Her people-... For her people, she should be able to get out of here, should be able to go to be with them, but- they've always been strong, haven't they, they can survive without there, they will endure as they always have and rise up once more. If there is anything Vietnam is sure of in her heart right now, that is it. That is the only thing she is sure of.]
...
[She lifts the gun and very carefully presses it to the bottom of her chin.]
Promise me.
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. . . the butler said last night that those portraits aren't actually paintings. If that's what happens to the dead - if my brother is suffering like that and if winning this game has even the slightest chance of freeing him from his hell, then I can't run away. And I can't win this without you.
Tonight. If we don't kill a demon tonight, then you can do whatever you want. I won't try to stop you. But you can't help any of your family when you're dead. Please. Help me save them.
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He's right, isn't he? But is she even capable of this any more? Is there anything else she can fit into her mind past the overwhelming blackness?]
...
[She lowers the gun.]
...Sen. [She shakes her head, her glassy eyes suddenly shimmering.] That's my human name.
[She looks up at Prussia. She doesn't know why she's telling him this. Maybe because he's the only person she can trust now.]
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But . . . that wasn't true anymore, was it? Hasn't been true ever since he stared down at Germany's body, wondering what it would feel like having his blade pierce his own heart. They're human here, and it has nothing to do with whether or not they can die. He should be fighting for his people's survival with everything he has. Instead, all he wants is to see his brother again.
He takes a breath.]
Mine's Gilbert. [He pauses, and now his eyes are welling up as well.] My brother was Ludwig.
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Thank you, anh Gilbert.
[That's what she'll be from now on. She's already cast off her armor of Việt Nam. She is human here, as mortal as anything else that dies so easily. Her family is all dead; their bodies, so cold and so human, were evidence enough of that...
Sen is what she is now. Việt Nam does not deserve this death. But she can die as Sen.]
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No, he is no longer Prussia. But he will die as a Prussian, with pride and honor and courage, knowing he could have done nothing more.]
You as well. [And there will never be any warmth in his eyes anymore, but nonetheless, his face is a little less despairing, a little less hollow when he looks at Vietnam - Sen - again.] Fräulein Sen.
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