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England narrowly dodged an aide as he walked to the delegates. The newly-rebuilt port was crowded and bustling with activity. Making this event a reality was quite an effort. Even before the war, the port couldn’t service a ship that large. It would’ve stayed that way had the nations not quickly realized that anchoring offshore and rowing up in a dingy was just the slightest bit embarrassing.They had initially planned to use an airport for the visit. Plenty of aircraft were available for the job, but usable airfields and stocks of jet fuel were few and far between."Thus, the Port of Europa was built, not only connecting Europe to the remnant (but powerful) American Atlantic fleet, but also providing a solid maritime link to the rest of the world. Trade deals were already being made between the Europeans and Brazil. The future was bright.England’s chest swelled as he saw a pair of blue flags fly over the port. Above it all, they had survived. The time for war was long gone. Peace and unity shall prosper.A small group of protesters stood cordoned off to the side. England felt a pang of sympathy to the shunned group as they were spat upon, but he couldn’t find it within himself to agree.America may not have started the war, but he damn well finished it. Considering England was walking through a modern, functional port while half the world was still in ruin, he’d say America did a bloody good job.While on his way to the delegates, a friendly voice bumped into him. “Ah, there you are, angleterre! I was wondering when I’d see you. Looks like the war did nothing for your beauty.”England rolled his eyes playfully. “Sod off. You know bloody well these damn things are permanent.” “Oui, and you know I’ve always had a thing for men with scars.” France replied with a wink.England raised an eyebrow in jest., “You want me to give you some?”“Nonsense!” The flamboyant nation replied, rubbing his hands down a smooth chin. “Nothing can destroy my luscious face. See how sharp my cheekbones are!”England’s smile tightened into a firm, straight line as his eyes ran over the hairline of France’s wig and his dark, sunken cheeks. It seems it hasn’t grown back yet . He thought.“I prefer them with a little meat on their bones.”France gasped. “Oh honhonhon, I see Henry VIII left quite an impression on you.”“Bloody hell what? Ack- God No- Jesus” England sputtered as flashbacks from his time as “groom of the stool” flooded his memory. He groaned . “God, why didn’t I just die?”France cupped his chin, “Because then you wouldn’t have me, and I, you.”Shaking his head from his grasp, England turned away with a light smile. “Come on then. The Yank’ll be here any minute now.”They moved to their reserved section where the other nations resided. Arthur waved to his brothers as the pair walked closer. Taking a glass of champagne, the first batch brewed in years, the nation walked towards the edge of the pier as France moved to mingle. England took a sip and rolled it on his tongue, savoring the flavor before letting it down. Breathing out a sigh of relief, he set the drink down on the painted wood railing. He marveled at the cleanliness of the white color, running a finger along its smooth surface. The creaking of old metal wheels caught his ear as the nation turned around. “Germany.” He greeted him with a polite nod.“England! Glad to see you’re doing well.” Ludwig rolled his wheelchair up to the railing, placing his own glass next to England’s. “It appears the port’s finally ready.”“Indeed so.” England reached down to clink glasses with him. “Did I ever tell you how long it took me to get the funding for this?” “Gott.” Germany laughed. “Don’t even get me started. I had to get France in on the railroad before they even considered thinking about it.”“Wow,” England chucked, “and I thought including fishing rights to the bill was a stretch.”Germany nodded in agreement, chewing his lip. “The American Repatriation Bill passed by the way.”“Oh did it? That’s good” England took a sip, holding it before swallowing. “I can imagine Kleines Amerika was happy.”Germany smiled. “I think the GI’s are just happy my bosses will stop pestering them to learn my language.”“Should’ve sent them my way Old Chap,” England brought the glass to his lips, “Least then the only problem will be getting Little America to stop calling it soccer.”The pair lapsed into a comfortable silence as Germany waited for England to drink. England’s eyes caught sight of Germany’s legs, causing a thought to come forward. “How’s your brother by the way? Is he doing better?”Germany’s expression fell as a twinge of regret resonated in England’s heart.“Bedridden.” The chair bound nation took a large gulp from his glass as he gazed out to sea. “His vocal cords still haven’t fully come back yet, so we’re stuck to pen and paper. We can move him for short walks around the compound but not for long. With the way his legs are growing it’s difficult for him to sit in a wheelchair.”Wishing to amend the mood shift, England apologized. “I’m sorry.” England kept his eyes downcast. “I know you don’t like talking about him.”Germany leaned back and sighed. “Don’t be. Things could be worse.” Grabbing the wheels, the nation turned himself around and gestured to the Polish representative. “Considering what Armageddon and Ragnarök did to them, I’m just glad he’s still around.”“But still,” England continued. “We didn’t mean for it to come to this.”“Of course not, none of you did.” Germany turned back around and grabbed his glass. Swirling it, he downed the rest in one large gulp. Looking to England, he gave the nation a bittersweet smile. “That’s just how things played out. Don’t worry, we’ll pull through.”They turned to other nations as a commotion within the crowd. A few of the aides were running back and forth as the delegates murmured amongst themselves.England looked down. “Should we head over?”“Probably. It might be about America.” Ludwig placed his glass back on the railing as England moved behind the chair. Noticing him, Germany waved the nation off. “It's fine, I can push myself. Thank you for offering though.”“Are you sure?” It was the least England could do. “I’ll be fine.” Grabbing the wheels, Germany rolled himself forward. “Come on.”As the pair moved closer in, their suspicions were proven correct. Catching them out of the corner of his eye, Spain waved them over with a smile.“England, Germany, America should be here any minute now.”England cocked his head at that. “Really? I didn’t see them in the West.”“That’s because they’re coming from the South. The fleet is hugging the coastline and heading up.”“Well, how far out are they?” Germany asked. As if on cue, the commotion was broken by a thundering roar rolling its way up the harbor. Several nations flinched as dishes rattled and the sound waves vibrated within their chests.England turned to see the gargantuan metal prow of a ship emerge from behind a building. All across the deck, sailors stood in pressed white uniforms flying ceremonial flags. Cheers erupted from the people as it came into view. More ships passed as the procession moved along until, finally, out emerged the flagship. France appeared by England’s and leaned into his ear with a smile. “I never thought I’d see one of those again.”Fully decked out, the massive aircraft carrier captivated the crowd. England was gobsmacked.
By God, that ship must have a full complement.
England turned to his French companion. “That has to be one of the nuclear powered ones. There’s no way he could afford to fuel his conventional ones.”“Of course, I don’t see any funnels on it either.” A gaggle of children rushed by waving a crude American flag. The group cheered as the metal behemoth rumbled past them, little feet following it up the port. France deftly weaved through the rushing crowd, expertly moving his glass so that not a drop of the precious champagne was spilled. Meanwhile, England grunted as he was headbutted in the stomach by an oblivious child. He could barely utter a word before the child was up and running after his friends. The sound of snickering filled his ears as England turned to see France staring at him with poorly concealed mirth. Fighting back a growing smile, England held a finger to the Frenchman. “Not a word.”“Oh honhonhon , no words are needed angleterre .” The parade came to an end as the carrier was gently eased into port. With the aid of a few tugboats, it came to rest alongside the pier. Dock workers brought out the gangways as the crew lowered the main elevator, unveiling a dizzying array of officers and diplomats.The port provided the arriving Americans with a full welcome. Out of the corner of his eye, England could see a director motioning at the port’s band to play. Music and cheers filled the air as the Americans approached.
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.
While their bosses and representatives walked forward to greet the Americans, the nations waited with bated breath. Dozens of eager eyes searched through the crowd for a glimpse of the familiar blonde. From the crowd approached a tall blonde man in a black naval officer’s uniform. A smile grew on England’s face as the man grew closer. Although a little more lanky and with a few gray hairs, the person before them was unmistakably Alfred. Even his name tag read “A. Jones.”England broke away from the group to meet him. “Alfred!” He called. The others quickly followed suit. After years of isolation, they were all ready to finally see each other again. To hell with manners. England thought as he spread out his arms in a warm embrace. I haven’t seen the bloody fool since the war. His excitement was stopped dead in its tracks by a firm hand pressing back against his chest. The befuddled nation stepped back and looked Alfred in the eyes.
That’s not Alfred.
The sound of footsteps receded as the group came to a stop, but England paid little mind to it. From underneath the brim of “Alfred’s” hat, a pair of brown eyes stared back.
That’s not Alfred at all.
“Alfred mon cheri !” France moved forward in excitement. “How have you…” he caught sight of the man’s eyes. “…been?” The nation took a step back as his face flushed pale. “Who are you?” He asked in an almost accusing manner. The man shifted on his feet and coughed slightly. “Brigadier General Alexander Jones, Sir.” He scanned his eyes across the nations before him. “I’m assuming all personifications are present?”The nations looked amongst themselves and nodded. Jones motioned towards the ship. “If you’d follow me please. Our personification will be seeing you shortly.”As the group walked forward, England and France caught each other’s eye. With a wordless nod they agreed.
Something’s not right. Something’s not right at all.
.o0o. For its age, the interior of the ship was surprisingly well-kept. It was as if not a day had passed since she was put into service.While the other nations oohed and ahhed at the aircraft, machinery, and sheer presence of the vessel, England’s mind was elsewhere. He ran a longing hand over the cool metal walls, reminiscing of days gone by. Once , he was great. Once , Britannia ruled the waves.But those days are gone. It was a long, bitter fight for the Royal Navy. Slowly but surely it was cut down through wars, budget, and competition. His Empire stagnated as his enemies grew.Across the pond, the little nation he once cared for had grown up. First the islands, then the canal, and soon the Great White Fleet. Before he knew it, America stood as an equal.It wasn’t until 1942 that the reality hit him. The Royal Navy was in the fight for its life and barely holding on. Stretched thin across the globe and only barely defending the home islands, it was just a matter of time until they broke. By comparison, America was pumping out ships by the dozen.It took some getting used to, but he came to accept his place. The student had finally surpassed the master. Through the tears, Arthur couldn’t be prouder. And then came the third one. As it was before, America did most of the heavy lifting at sea while Arthur was forced on the defensive. Battered by constant attacks, Britannia was relegated to guarding the GIUK gap. He still takes pride in his work though, not a single submarine made it through. Of course, that didn’t matter much when the missiles were launched from the land. The scars on his face throbbed at the memory of it. Unconsciously rubbing his cheek, England followed the group down another hall.A warm hand clasped his own. “I know that look, mon cheri .” Caring eyes gazed into his own as England looked to his side. “I told you not to think about it.”England smiled sadly and ran a thumb over France’s knuckles. “It’s hard not to. What, with all of this.” The reminiscing nation gestured to the walls around them. “Who would have thought that after everything that happened, we would be here?”France smiled in agreement. “It’s nice, isn’t it?” France looked at the metal walls around them.”Only a few more moments until we see him again.”“Yeah.” England nodded. “Just make sure not to kiss his lips off.” He added humorously. The group walked through several more corridors before England slowed his pace. Falling to the back of the pack and slightly lagging behind the rest of the nations, England checked to make sure the others were decently far away. Lowering his voice and leaning in, the nation whispered with trepidation, “Do you think he’s ok?”
“Amerique?”
“Every other time there’s a diplomatic mission we meet out in the open. Us nations don’t need this level of secrecy.”“Maybe he’s bedridden like Prussia.” France furrowed his brow as the pair theorized. “He was hit by more bombs than any of us, perhaps he still hasn’t healed.”“No that can’t be it. Yes, America was hit by more bombs than any of us, but he’s a big nation. He should’ve been able to take it. Germany was hit harder than any of us and was Ground Zero for the invasion. Despite that, he’s only waiting on his legs. If America was like that we would’ve seen him wheeling himself down the ramp.”“Yes, that’s true.” France lightly ran a hand through the wig’s hair. “But I’m not sure, angleterre . Whatever it is, we’re bound to find out soon.”Jones stopped in front of a door guarded by a pair of Marines. With a quiet word the two stepped aside and opened it. “In here, please.”They filled into a small briefing room. Rows of chairs pointed to a center podium. Behind it, the Great Seal was hung on the wall flanked by a pair of wrapped flags“Please, have a seat. We will be with you shortly.” England and France shared a look as they sat down. Once the nations were settled, Jones stepped out through a side door. A loud clang resonated throughout the room as the pair of Marines locked the entrance shut.England took a steadying breath as he waited. The room setup only added to his confusion. Normally, meetings are conducted across a large table. America had never done this before.He didn’t have to wait long though. A few moments later, Jones stepped out from the door. Standing in front of it, he spoke.“Ladies and gentlemen. I present to you, The United States of America.”England’s heart pounded in his chest as the blood rushed in his ears. France grabbed his hand and held it in a tight embrace as a shadow appeared in the doorway. England’s free hand clenched into a fist, trimmed nails digging painfully into his palm. The room held its breath as the footsteps came closer. Emotion roared through his body as England caught the sight of a familiar blonde. With a beaming smile he stepped out and-
It was a girl.
“Hello everyone!” Not only was it a girl, but it was Alfred’s spitting image. From the hair to the smile to the eyes and the face, everything screamed Alfred. Yet it wasn’t.
It wasn’t him.
“Where is he!?” England’s mouth moved before he could think. Blazing eyes bore into the crystal blue in front of him. His chair clattered as he stood“Oh. I uh-“ the mockery of Alfred sputtered and deflated. “Where is Alfred?!” “Arthur, sit down!” France hissed.“I’m sorry.” She took off her cap, holding it within her hands. “Alfred isn’t with us anymore.”The words hit England’s chest like a sledgehammer. His heart pounded and his head felt lightheaded as he staggered back. A familiar hand grabbed him and tugged the nation down while an arm snaked around his back to rub soothing circles. “But… but….” Only now did he get a closer look at the woman. Her officer's uniform was a Navy Dress Blue, but he paid little attention to it. His gaze was locked to her face. Hungry eyes danced over every detail as he desperately tried to convince himself of something . This isn’t Alfred, but it wasn’t not him. “Who…?” The wavering words came out barely above a whisper, but were heard all the same. The woman gazed mournfully at him as reality came crashing down.“My name is Amelia F. Jones. I am the personification of the United States of America.”England’s mouth failed him as his lips struggled to form words. A comforting hand was laid across his shoulder as France spoke up. “But Amérique , you-“ France caught himself, “your nation survived the war.”Amelia nodded, “That it did. America survived, but not Alfred.”She walked slowly towards the podium and placed her cap down. England could tell she was nervous. The nation (how that felt wrong on his tongue) hid it well, but he could see through the mask. That breathing pattern, it’s the same one he taught Alfred as a boy. Amelia leaned forward and spoke, “Allow me to explain.” She looked around the room, carefully watching their expressions. “America, as a nation, is fundamentally different.”“I’m sure he said this many times, but the core of the nation lies within the beliefs it was founded upon.” She stopped, pausing to let her words take effect. “The American people are, in the end, only a means for those beliefs to be acted upon.”“When the bombs fell…” Amelia lifted her hand and inspected it. From her fingers to the back of her hand, a patched network of scars crisscrossed across the delicate skin. “…America burned. When he gave the order, Operation Armageddon was a success. The enemy’s strategic forces were completely destroyed by the first strike. However, Operation Ragnarök was less so.”She smiled bitterly and looked around the room. “Most of the enemy’s ballistic missile submarines were destroyed. The GUIK gap held firm, not a single sub made it through.” Amelia nodded towards England. His chest swelled slightly in pride from the compliment, but it did nothing to change just how wrong this meeting felt. “However, we weren’t able to stop all of them. As I’m sure you know, over a dozen vessels, mostly by the Kola Peninsula and the Bering Strait, were able to successfully launch.”The nation sighed as she told her story.“It’s been a long, hard road to where we are now.” Her shoulders sagged with the weight of a broken empire. “Between connecting scattered fleets and outposts, quelling separatist uprisings, and outright civil war, America still hasn’t been reunited.”“The nation you knew died that day, but the country lived on.” Amelia stood up and squared her shoulders. “I am America now.”England was at a loss.Truthfully, he wasn’t surprised that Alfred died. Europe’s lost plenty of nations already, but he wasn’t expecting this . Yes, he knew that something had to emerge from the wastes, just not her . America spoke, “Alfred knew that this day would come. When I found him, he left me a pair of letters. One was for me, but the other was for you, the nations of the world.”As if on cue, Jones walked into the room from the side door, having left sometime earlier. In one hand, he carried a reinforced leather briefcase. Setting it down on a table behind the podium, he inserted a key and unlocked it. With a nod to America, the aide stepped aside and left, closing the door on the way out. America walked over and slowly lifted the cover, gingerly taking out a worn piece of paper. “So far, no other nation outside of North America has read this. You shall be the first.” She turned and looked directly at England. “I think it’s best that you read it.”England’s breath caught in his throat as the nation moved towards him, letter in hand. “Are you sure?” England looked to those around him, all of which were nodding their assent.Amelia held the letter out with a small smile. “It’s what he’d want.”England carefully took it in his hand, placing it onto his lap. France next to him gasped at the sight of it. All across the letter were spattered splotches of red. England gently ran a finger over the bloodstains as he looked up to the nations before him. Noticing his trepidation, she gazed at him with impossibly old eyes. “They were with him to the end.” Was all she spoke. As he looked down, Amelia turned around and walked back to the podium. Taking a moment to steady himself, Arthur read.
“Nations of the World,
To those who are reading this letter, I am sorry that it has come to this. I know not what fate has befallen me, but I hope you find my successor worthy of carrying on my legacy.
To my allies, stalwart and loyal, I must thank you. Without you, I would not have become the nation that I am now. Along the way you have guided me, taught me, helped me, and above all stood by me.
While I may boast and gloat about my achievements, know that I do not say these things with malice. Truthfully, without you, none of this would have been possible. Humility may not be my forte, but I must admit the truth. With that, I thank you."
England stopped, blinking away the tears that threatened to fall. He fought back the tremble in his hands and continued,
"Throughout all of my life, I have been at war. To those who are reading this, there may have been a time where I have warred with you. I do not hate you for that, nor do I wish for such conflicts to be my legacy. I doubt that however. In the end, we make choices, but our choices make us.”
England briefly paused and chewed his lip, remembering all of the times him and Alfred had bickered and fought.
“As I am writing this, war seems inevitable.
I may be at the height of my power, but every Empire must fall.
I am not an exception.
Perhaps it will be my hubris. I may set out, sword in hand, striking at my adversaries. Eventually, I may enter a war for which there is no escape. Maybe this is how I die.
But it might be my loyalty. It’s no secret I see myself as a hero. The tale of the underdog and sticking up for the little guy has been ingrained into my culture longer than I can remember. I have a great many friends across the world, all of which have a great many enemies. I will not stand idly by while any of them are threatened.
To my friends, I will do anything for you.” He couldn’t help it.One, two, then three tears fell down his cheeks.
“If that is my fate, then know that I died a good death. I can ask of no higher honor than to die defending the beliefs I was founded upon.
My friends, my only wish is for you to thrive."
Four, five, and six joined them.England closed his eyes as the quiet sobs wracked his body. He felt a hand reach for the paper, but he tugged it away. Looking around, France’s red-rimmed eyes met his own.France looked down to the paper and then back to England in a silent question.
Do you want me to read it?
England shook his head slightly.
No, I can do this.
Taking a breath, England’s voice wavered as he continued.
"As such, I leave you. Friends, enemies, and nations of the world, I shall miss our time together.
Do not cry, do not mourn, and do not despair.
Remember.
For while my death may be inevitable, America will live on.
God Bless you, and God Bless America.
Alfred F. Jones, 1776-"
Setting the paper down, England wept.