First chapter: the talk
there will be a total of 15, and will be published by the end of August

As the cold winter day turned to a bitter night, a dense fog settled across the roads and pavements. The future was blinded by this fog, uncertainty for all. Yet, one could see through the fog.
As the night grew older, snow fell down as if drifting down. In blizzards it blew down. Down a long road, two lights grew out of the shadow of the night. Slowly, they came closer and reviled a shape. Large in status and a low growl, a pickup of navy blue. This was not a sign of danger, but a symbol of hope to what will come. The vehicle continued down the road, peacefully while taking a smooth sweeping left. A view through the gap. Distant lights shone brightly in the night. These lights were a little town by the sea. A sign sat by the right side of the long twisting road. It stated, in clear black markings; “Clactyo”. This was the name of the town, once a famous coastal resort, now left to live a life calmly. This would be not the case, it has an underground secret. The vehicle turned through the empty streets that curved into each other randomly. Each one full of emptiness, no life and pitch black. Only the occasional street lamp reflected off the closed house windows.
Next to a housing estate, lay a large building. Once an old hospital, it showed in tiny details, it still stood tall above the estate. 4 stories high and a tarmac car park to fit 20 cars. The truck pulled into the car park. Slowly trundling to an empty space then halted in its drive. A few seconds of deafening silence followed the trail… Clunk! The floor around started to drop, gradually disappearing from view. As this occurred, new tarmac overlay the old. Covering the new rectangular hole and slowly forming a layer of tarmac. After half a minute, any sign of the floor dropping had gone. New tarmac had covered the hole and no one could tell the difference…
The clunking stopped when the floor finally rested. Lights dotted on the roof in a large circle. Suddenly, a great 10 feet tall set of doors creaked open. Slowly it gradually opened away from the truck. The metallic structure reflected what little light there was. At the wrong angle, it may blind the wondering eye temporally. Beyond the great doors was complete darkness, nothing but a solid black.
With the doors creaking open, the right hand side door of the truck creaked open but very quickly. Two feet jumped from the cabin. Each with perfectly polished black shoes, fitting just on the big side. The figure fully leapt out of the reasonably large pick up. Young in blood, yet tall in height, he stood tall for his teenage age. He closed the door gently with a tiny clunk as it fully closed. Sparkling in the limelight, the teenager stepped forward. In his later teenage years, the brown short hair was combed to the left. Not fully styled as other boys, yet not messy and all over the place in spirals and parts that stuck up. Brown large eyes set deeply into their sockets and covered by dark blue sun glasses. A suit rested comfortably on the body, black and white in colour and no evidence of mud nor dirt. As pure as they come, some may say about the suit. Clean as a whistle the whole collection of fabrics were.
In front of the boy, the recently pitch black corridor leading from the great metal doors was grabbling new light. Row by row, luminous yellow beams gently trickled down. Tiny yet powerful lights had life flowed into the bulbs. Darkness retreated into the very corners where the light could not reach. Gradually, light filled the whole long, wide corridor. Right at the end of this wide corridor, was yet another set of great metal doors. Although smaller in height, they still towered over all beneath.
To each side of the massive steel doors, were very boxy and huge “tiger” heavy tanks. The left one being the standard yellow and green camouflage, common in conflict in grassland. Meanwhile, the tank on the right was more of a dark grey. Just like a tank just leaving the production line and ready for war across the landscape. Still yet to fight and gain experience on the field. “Good morning sir!” boomed the tank on the left, in a strong German accent. Its voice powered through the air, most would tremble and fall to their feet under the sound. Yet, the boy remained tall and stood against it. Not an enemy but a friend and ally. “Very early to start the day sir,” the other one spoke. This voice was quieter and less of a deep boom.
As the boy walked towards the tanks, he replied, “3 o’clock is the starting hour.” Then, walked right past them in a calm stroll and past them. The previous doors had closed by now, as these smaller doors slid open. In the same way the light had sparked on, they faded. Row by row, the tiny but powerful lights dimmed and allowed the darkness to advance and go on the offensive. “Keep up the good work lads,” he called when finally parallel to the great doors. And so, the doors slowly closed behind as the final flickers of light faded.
Beyond the doors, was something unbelievable to most to believe. A humongous room, just like an aircraft hangar of large proportions, full of various tanks of various shapes, colours and sizes. One huge tank trundled towards the boy. The ground shock under the treads, almost creaking with the sheer weight of metal. This was a Maus, a mammoth of a tank. 10 metres long and towering over at 3.6 metres, almost no tank was anywhere as big as this one. Making all objects around feel like tiny animals running around a giant elephant. It grinded to a halt within a second. Slowly, the turret cranked and turned to face the boy. With the rotation complete, the huge gun depressed and aimed directly at him. “Ferdinand, situation critical”, it boomed in a deep voice, “You must see.”
“Very well,” Ferdinand replied, as he checked a black, leather watch. Slightly tweaking the minute hand with a tiny wind up on the side. “I want a meeting in the main room, 5 minutes from now”
“As you wish…” a voice crept from the hull. So, it gradually turned with its bulk, and trundled off into the huge mist of tanks that lay all along the floor. And so, he too walked into the iron sea, finding a clear path through walls of steel. Towards a small lift, only room for a few thin people. Glass encircling the outside, the lift went towards the earth with a single press of a steel button. Slowly, it chugged down, slightly shaking as the floors past. With each floor that past, the complex flashed red across the corridors and large open hangers. A siren rang loudly in its high constant tone among all floors. Tracks smashed into the floors in commotion. Tanks dashed as fast as their bulk could carry to the edges of the hangers. Although the whole warning was not planned, they all organised themselves while leaving. No sign of confusion or done in a serious hurry.
Ferdinand, who was in the glass lift for a good 2 minutes, had finally reached the correct floor. Yet again, it chugged and clunked. Stopping as the almost transparent doors slid open. This floor was very different to the rest. A red carpet stretched out across the marble floor, flowing with the long corridor. Too thin for a tank, yet plenty for any human to walk down. He stepped between the immense walls, reaching high above, trying not to drown in fields of secrets and fear that lay on the other side. He trudged with a passion. A passion only seen in few men. So, with his soul glowing with hope, Ferdinand proceeded through the deafening silence, until a thick, bronze set of doors blocked the journey. They were humongous yet microscopic against the walls. A little nudge of these made the doors open. No effort placed into the movement. He continued past, the doors slowly closing behind. Fully shutting with a loud metal clunk!
Beyond these doors, an extensive wooden table sat perfectly still. It lay with a single chair, placed at the end alone. This leather chair was only a few steps from the closing doors. A relaxed sit down and feet on the table. Suddenly, huge slits opened in the slated walls. Splitting each into 4 sections; 2 moved up while 2 glided to the sides. Tanks drifted through each gap. Each one massive in size and weight. The same Maus tank as before was here, even more enormous than the rest of the huge super heavy tanks. Others were of many nationalities and camouflages. 6 of them in total with each unique in shape. From left to right, in a clockwise direction, these were: the Maus, of course; An E100, almost like a brother to the Maus; a M48 Patton, showing the typical Americano diplomacy; an IS-7, made of pure Muscovy steel; a Centurion mark 7, presenting a Briteriean style of kindness and a type 5 heavy, with a typical thick Yamatoese accent. They barely muttered between themselves, sitting heavy within a heavy air, pushing them deeper into the stone ground and closer to hell.
“Let’s begin” calmly spoke the boy as the little noise faded into a bitter silence, “You have your notes, surprise me.” He looked in the general direction of each tank as they spoke the words written on their detailed notes. The Maus went first, commenting on unusual temperature changes across different continents. These ranged from a tiny, predictable change, to a huge increase/ decrease in a precise spot. Ferdinand, who listened very carefully, wrote very little notes on the subject. Only a few phrases and sentences in a corner of the plain white A4 sheet were written. Next, The M48 presented the economics of the major powers. Sudden changes in budgets for military purposes and civilian needs. Anything that didn’t meet the normal pattern was added to the list yet some were circled while others a thick black cross right through. Some of them took seconds to figure out, others remained circled. They would be investigated later. All the major power’s economics where explained in their basics. Only the biggest and/or most unusual being mentioned vocally in person. After this, the IS-7 in a strict matter compared to the others. It only spoke in short, strong lines that were extremely clear through the tough accent. Its little speech was on global army maintenance and movements across countries. All large, suspicious movements were reported and written down as the others. In little notes and few words with lines and crosses through some. Some of these “unusual” movements did originate from smaller countries, normally peaceful from military mobilisation. This swiftly included naval and air force movements. Not as many notes were made, yet some little one liners were drawn up. Directly after, the centurion spoke on imports and exports. These included profits and losses made by, yet again, major nations across the globe. This ended very quickly, due to very little in wise of shipping from country to country. Trade was normal as it seemed. Finally, the Type 5 heavy. A final topic of festivals and major events in sport. Again, all was normal. The general events and usual matches continued as planned. Some drunken violence after large practise football matches, betting problems, people losing a tonne of money through bad bets. Sports were normal for the mean time.
“Very queer…” he wondered to himself, “Nothing else?” They all shook their turrets side to side a couple of times.
“Well then,” he continued after clearing this throat, “I have some unpredicted and extremely bad news…”
The tanks started to mutter between themselves, turning turrets to face each other. Slipping of tread on the marble floor, creating quiet muffled squeaks that merged with the chatter. Bang! A large gun fires!
“He hasn’t finished!” shouted the Maus, keeping to a Prussian formality. As this echoed across the vast room, the rest did finally go silent as the northern tundra. Each turret clunked and rotated to face the boy, remaining silent for the time being.
“Thank you, Larm,” Ferdinand spoke in a welcoming voice, only to change to a serious tone, “My news is not our usual code 5. It is much higher threat, and will not only change the course of history, but the future of mankind itself. This threat is not an earthly one. A disaster of cartographic proportions is on the horizon. My evidence is not solid, but I have a hunch and know where to look. Code 3 is now active. With any more evidence, evacuation of the complex is required…”
He takes a swing of water from a tiny glass cup on the table in front. “Gentle tanks, we have had this plan in the background, out of sight of even me. Now, it comes into the limelight! Protocol Extinction: is now set in motion!”

ha ha new chapters. I'd pretty much given up on this because no one actually reads this schiße
The scream of sirens wailing bought Antonio to his senses. The cracks of rifle fire opened up in the deserts and the rattle of a British machine gun opened up sparodically.

He was suddenly pulled out of his tent by his breaches by ludwig who was clutching two rifles.
"Take this" he said thrusting the rifle into Antonio's arms. Ludwig began sprinting to the front lines to meet up with the vanguard and relieve the first watch who had been fighting since the beginning of the raid.

The two boys arrived on the front lines to drop into a shallow trench that the defending forces were using as their defensive position.

The trench was small but was also the only piece of solid cover untill the encampment. Ludwig dropped to his knees and began affixing the bayonet to the end of his rifle before stepping up to the firing step and surveying the landscape, a few men were still alive in the barren wasteland that was the approach to their encampment. The approach had been cleared of cover before the attack so as to deny the enemy any suitable lines of approach that provided cover from fire. And what a relief it must of been that they did otherwise casualties could have been far worse.
"Come on Antonio, we need to find the officers around here"

Ludwig picked his rifle up before finding the highest ranking soldier around. This happened to be a corporal who was busy picking the cigarettes out of a dead privates front pocket.
"Sir", Antonio saluted before continuing, "reporting for duty"

The corporal had shaggy and slightly curly hair that was clogged with dirt and singed at odd lengths. He picked up a ppsh sub machine gun before swinging round to adress the two boy troops, Ludwig was fast approaching 21 but Antonio was only 18 and even younger in spirit.
"Gentleman, you're late to the fight" he spoke with an air of distaste towards the boys
"We're ever so sorry sir, but we had some trouble getting weapons" Antonio lied through his teeth.
"All that matters is that you're here now, you know how to use those rifles?"

This is some Warhammer 40k shit, read if you wanna give me some pointers

Harry Madden sprinted through the dimly lit corridors of his ship, the fabric of his cloak trailing behind him. The sound of explosions ripped through the ship and a dozen different alarms blared through the intercom system. "Fuck, what's going on?" the young commissar thought to himself, attempting to access ship status through a wall console, only to find it was offline. He tried to get the console working again, but was suddenly pulled out of his concentration by the sound of weapons fire and screaming coming from down the hall. On instinct alone, he drew his pistol and began towards the sound. Soon enough, he reached the source, it was the mess hall. He paused for a split second to brace himself, tapped the keypad for the door and ran in, picking the first target and firing without hesitation. A brilliant blue light violently lept from the barrel of his pistol and tore it's way through the air, hitting the head of the agressor and melting it to a pulpy mass of flesh and flame. He fired again, and again, dropping targets and dodging return fire left and right. In mere seconds, he was standing alone among six fallen alien corpses each with their heads melted into pulpy flesh, with some relieved crewmen emerging from the cover of an upturned table on the other side of the room. "Damn Xenos scum" he muttered to himself before heading to the next highest ranking officer, a Sargent, only about twenty-five by the look of him.

"Solider! Report!" Harry asked in a strict, commanding voice. The young sergeant had to look up at him to reply, being half a head shorter, and replied in a strong, obiediant voice, "We were ambushed by two Xenos frigates, sir! Gun crews managed to destroy one ship and drive the other off, but not before they seemed to teleport troops all over the ship." Harry looked down in thought for a moment, planning his next move. He only had a few soldiers, but he would find more throughout the ship. Looking up, he addressed all preasent in the room; "You're all valient soldiers, and I know you'll fight and win for your comrades. Now, follow me! We will drive the Xenos threat from this ship, hunt down their race and rain Imperial justice on their leaders from orbit for this heresy! I promise all of you that no matter the loss, no matter the hardships, we will show these Xenos that transgressions against our mighty Empire will not go unpunished!" The room errupted into the glorious battle-cries of Imperial men and women, all of them raising their weapons to the Commissar. The few that weren't armed took weapons from the dead aliens and began familarizing themselves with the design, fighting on and adapting to their situation; just as he had taught them. The Commissar spoke up again, "First thing's first, though. We need to contact the bridge and get orders. On my way here I found the intercom system was destroyed, so we must fight our way there. This way, men." Harry turned on his heels and walked swiftly out of the room, his tall figure seeming to gracefully glide over the rubble and wreckage. How he maintained such discipline and dignity in this situation was a mystery to the soldiers tailing closely behind him.

Post has shared content
I am alone
Sitting in a room with walls all a spotless white
There is light, it comes from somewhere, nowhere, yet everywhere at once
I can hear my heart beating
There is no door
No window
No escape
Only clean walls stare at me
Where am I?
How did I get here?
Who am I?
I only remember these walls.
They are my past
My future
"Who am I?" I whisper, before from me echos a scream
"WHO AM I!?" I shriek at the blinding walls, receiving no answer
I am alone in an empty room.
Am I even here?
Is this real?
Am I real?
I'm not, am I?
I'm just some fictional character
Invented for the amusement of some "real" being
Created and forced to suffer by a mad puppet master to amuse and impress
I don't control my actions
My emotions
My very thoughts
They are not mine
Why have "They" chosen to give me these emotions?
I assume it must be a mystery
Do "They" even know?

Ludwig seared himself next to one of the roaring fires that were set up around the camp perimeters. Although he was not on duty it was normal for others to keep the night watch company.

A few hours passed and the the campfire had accumulated a fair number of other men who joined Ludwig in absent mindedly staring into the fire. As the night wore on, conversation was basically non existent until an older veteran sat near the fire and one by one the questions flowed from the boys mouths both directed at the veteran and other boys.

The subjects flowed from the important to the curious to the mundane.

Eventually Antonio arrived and just sat on the sandy earth opposite the veteran. He was still smiling and laughing but he looked troubled and would often stop and stare into the heart of the fire. In the end Antonio broke the sibelie and asked the question everyone wanted to,
"Do you see the faces of the people you've killed?"

A silence settled over the area and for a few precious moments even the distant gunfire ceased.
"Rarely" the veteran replied, it's not normally the ones you killed, but the friends you left behind " he said, staring deep into the boys eyes in turn.

"Everyone deals with it differently, some sink so far into themselves its impossible to pull them out, some vow never to let anyone die again, some drink themselves out" he continued seriously.
"And now I believe I have answered the one question you truly wanted me to answer, I take my leave"

And with that, he dusted off his uniform and strode out of the light of the fire and into the darkness beyond

The hot sun beat down on Ludwig's back as he continued to listen to his instructors droning voice.

The rifle Ludwig held was a karibiner 98. Although the gun was used even before the first world war, it still proved to be just as good as the British standard issue Enfield if not better.

Next to Ludwig stood Antonio, in comparison the rifle was almost around his mid drift whereas Ludwig's stood at the top of his thigh and looked puny compared to his muscular toning.

The lecture was soon over and Ludwig was led to the firing range.
"You get one clip, don't kill anyone, don't miss" the instructor said gruffly before walking off.
Ludwig took the clip and strode forward towards the shooting mark
"Come on Ludwig you've read hundreds of books on this" his subconscious reinsured him. Ludwig gripped and shouldered the rifle staring down the sights into the target beyond.

He gracefully pulled the trigger and pulled the bolt back three times but to his complete and utter surprise the three shots all missed completely. At this point Antonio showed up with a stupid grin plastered across his face
"Come now Ludwig, if you missed, it must be super difficult" he exclaimed.
Antonio's regular, easy going voice made everything he said sound so sincere that it was often difficult to tell when he was being sarcastic or not.

And as Antonio raised the rifle that was nearly as long as him, the feeling of dread that Toni might be able to out shoot Ludwig all but vanished from his mind.

Antonio pulled the bolt back after firing the final round , ejecting the spent round and ejected the empty magazine. Antonio had fired six shots and had a grouping of about two inches Ludwig's grouping was nearly a half meter

hallo, Es ist eine Weile gewesen, nicht es?

The clouds of dirt rose as ludwigs new desert colour boots stomped into the ground.

The endless lines of tan coloured tents stretched into the open expanse where people were practicing some hand to hand combat.

Ludwig walked further into the camp outskirts. Antonio stood at the back of the field, hands on his hips, whistling a familiar tune that floated on the breeze.
Ludwig broke into a sprints his boots kicking up minor sand storms as he lept into the air.

And it is at this point i must make something clear dear reader, ludwig, at this point in his tale is not exactly "lightweight". In fact, on comparison Antonio although tall was relatively skinny for his age l. Ludwig was a tall, heavily muscled boy of a much stockier build.

Needless to say, the resulting colision resulted in minor trip to the infirmary for poor tony.

sorry Antonio fans, he will only be in this for a few more chapters. Although I make him into ludwigs conscience later on

sincerely unter offitzer cook

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here's a short AU! Hetalia Fanfic I'm working on
let me know what you think of it 

It was a dark dull night that was brightening up,because of the night club because it was new years the club was packed with party animals from across the globe. Allister was having a smoke with his fiancé Francis upstairs near the balcony Arthur was sporting his Typical Angel suit while screaming Celtic Punk rock to entertain the guests Dylan was with his friend New Zealand who was bragging about how he has more freedom than Alfred (America) who was playing Xbox live with his friend Mathias (Denmark)
and Connor was in his dark corner listening to MCR while getting drunk off some wine his friend Feliciano gave him.  
Cillian worked at the nightclub as a waitress however because he was a lad in a lass body he would almost always be mistaken for a woman dressing in drag didn't help either even though he secretly loved dressing in the traditional dance dresses and designer Hipster clothes he had enough of the chavs that would patronize him so he let his little sister Kelsey (Ulster) take over the job she didn't mind she was good at serving food and drinks and she didn't mind the guests so what could go wrong...

Hey Fraulein Where’s mien Sandwich und wurst
It’s coming wait a minute runs up to table and serves plate
Danke hey Lisa have you Gotten more HeiB since last time
What I,I uh thanks I guess
Your welcome Fraulein wink
runs back to Cillan You didn't tell me your boyfriend was going to here
Dammit I should have told you I've probably drank too much Guinness today
Then why did I have to bloody take over your job I didn't know it meant this
Just try and deal with it sis aright
Tch Fine door slam
Waitress I’d like a feta cheese yoghurt
Coming right up Lazy Hoarder
Walks over trips on cat Rmeow
OW! Hercule didn’t you put your cats with the other pets in the back hangout room
What I thought they were just playing are you being rude to my cats
No No No I was just saying that you should keep them under control they could hurt someone
I don’t have to keep them under control Ireland they are free cats you don’t have to be so Prejudice against them
pissed off Don’t talk to me about prejudce when I have to indure it every day with stupid riots Pog Mi Horn
Very well then play fights her
You Douche
gives the finger leaves and cats knock tuna over her uniform
Tch Tch Tch Slams door 
Wow I never knew Hercule didn’t know about Cillan’s secret

Eventually the club caused too much ruckus and Cillan rudely kicked them out except for Felicano and Francis because they helped clean up the mess Hercule’s cats made before they left 

I can’t believe this is what big brother has to indure why doesn't anyone outside the uk know the difference between My Brother (Ireland) and My Country (Northern Ireland) It's because of the bloody IRA that's why
ever since then it's been given a bad name they might as well call me the Murderous Troublemaker Country of the UK                                   
well there’s nobody else here except Arthur who just collapsed on that couch sigh well  it wasn’t as hectic as my riots
Wait notices there’s someone still in the club the someone who was the only person who didn't act crazy
walks up to him Um S-Sir aren't you leaving too and why did you not party hard like the others
Awkward I- didn't get my chance to order the line was too long and I didn't party hard because I don't like Loud Wild events like this the craziness is too much I already get enough of it from mien brother 

Oh o-o  I actually feel the same way my brothers go completely bonkers on these types of occasions and I don't party hard either too many dangerous risks are taken that cause damage to their health and sanity occur I prefer just listening to music with mild dances that don't wreck the place

Ja Ja Some of the reckless Chaos they cause make them act like dumbkopts that must be unbearable like if mien brother multiplied groan I don't think i'd be able to handle it 

Yeah your brother must be quite the delinquent so what would you like to order?

Just some Potato Bread und Mild Beer please

Sure I'll get right to it

Here you go 

Danke for the meal eats drinks  So I hear this Potato Bread is from Ireland?

Actually it's from Ulster,Northern Ireland that's where I'm from I make lots of Potato food Pasties,Fries and Coddles which is like a type of Stew that also has sausages 

mmm that sounds like a very delectable meal two of mien favourite foods cooked together in one healthy meal
looks like I'm not the only Potato lover Ireland must be  great with Good food,Good Beer,Good Entertainment no annoyances at all it must be a dream place for you right?

N-not really in Ulster there's lots of riots,Brawls and Terrorism mostly by sigh the IRA I used to think that they were inferior to Arthur's Military instead they were ruthless bastards who betrayed my civilians almost killing my Brother and the Northern Side of Ireland as a whole it was hell and it was all because of pointless arguments about Catholics and protestants 

drinks I experienced something similar along with mien Brother almost dying except his entire country almost disappeared and many innocent lives were lost some of my "friends" caused some of the worst war crimes in history why couldn't I have rebelled against my bosses orders rants for most of the night

That sounds Terrible even though our Failures are in the past they have still left incurable scars on our future
has Roderich really changed at all?

Nein the only postives in his currant political beliefs are innovating Socalism which does sound like a good idea except too many countries argue to actually get that idea to work

I'm a Socalist however my Politicans want me to be a loyalist when our so called "military"  that were supposed to depend on are Traitors 

Mm maybe I could help you with your military along with the Socalism me and you could make a good team
with your activism and mien Political and Military skills Both of our Countries could get better reputations 

R-really? sure Shakes hand

Danke for understanding  "Auf Wiedersehen!"

Guten morgen, un fantastische einers FUCKING REVIEW DUMNKOMPFS

The truck abruptly amid the echoing sounds of gun fire. Well less gun fire more distant cannon fire. The canvas flap of the truck was thrown up and the remaining six boys squirmed in the harsh sunlight.
"Great, more cannon fodder" a soldier said gleefully.

The first thing ludwig noticed was sand, lots and lots of sand. Ludwig who had never trained for the desert looked worried as his grey uniform basically said im a target shoot at me.
"Toni, this is wrong" he said to the ever chhery spaniard
"Yes amigo but look at it this way, at least it can't get worse" he said in his ever musical voice.
"Oh it will get worse" an approaching sergeant told them "newbies are on nightwatch"

The boys stood in horror at the sergeant.

"MOVE IT" he yelled as the boys scrambled to the perimeter

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