WARNING: There is rape and death involved in this chapter. It is not explicit, but can be triggering. Read at your own risk.

~~~Fallen Stars~~~

Never be bullied into silence. Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one's definition of your life; define yourself.
-Harvey Fierstein

~~~Fallen Stars~~~

Something…happened. No one knows what, everyone just knows everything went to shit afterwards. There are stories that there used to be Kings uniting these things called countries and awesome technology that could be better than even the strongest magic. But it all just died with the stars. Those blank patches in the sky? Some people think that there used to be a few stars there, but most people are just worried about surviving until the next day.

Some people have the luck to live with the obnoxious, pompous rich people. That is, people that had the luck to be able to trade enough to secure a section of land all for themselves and actually manage to make it secure. Those people traded for lives, people willing to work their land and build what they needed. Those lucky bastards had the ability to eat once a day, sleep with solid ground beneath their heads, and sleep for a couple of hours a night.

Most people weren't so lucky. Most people moved constantly. Raiders or thieves' guilds were constantly on the prowl, attacking whatever and whoever they could see. People would build makeshift living areas, only secured by a promise that the people around them wouldn't steal from them. They laid their location in the mud as close to the enchanted forests as possible. Hardly anyone dared to go into the forests, that was where people went if they were trying to get killed. Going anywhere else is where people went if they were trying to get tortured.

Alfred thought himself to be a simple boy, living a simple life. He had short, wheat(whatever that was)-blonde hair with this one stupid cowlick and blue eyes people said sparkled with hope, which was funny because people shouldn't know what hope even was. Some people said that the sky used to look like his eyes, but that's just an old story, something the parents told the kids so that they wouldn't cry too much at night. They even say that the water used to be pure enough that it reflected the sky. Alfred knew that was total bullshit. Alfred was strong, because he had to be. His dad had always taught him that, with no hope in this world, someone had to be a hero. Alfred didn't believe it, but he became strong nonetheless, to help his brother survive.

Matthew, Alfred's brother, was his twin. He had soft, wheat-blonde hair as well, which everyone said was impossible, and beautiful, violet eyes. The only shame was that they were blank. Matthew had never seen a single thing in his life. From the moment he was born, he'd never seen anything. Alfred always figured that was a good thing, he would never have to see this hell of a world that people merely survived in, never lived. He was small, frail, because he chose to be. He let Alfred and their father keep him safe.

Alfred's favorite thing to do, since he was a little kid and still a little innocent, was go into the forests. He never went far, but he loved them. All of them seemed to defy the world around them. They were peaceful and calm and…breathtakingly beautiful. Alfred had never seen such a beautiful green in his life and he knew that he would cling to it for all of his life, even if the forests were taken away like the stars. There were no animals, at least none that were only three feet into the forest, but he always pretended that he could hear them.

Once, hid dad had actually allowed him to use his sword when he went in there with Matthew. His father protected that sword with his life, for some reason Alfred didn't know. That was their family's one belonging. Clothes came and went, they never stayed in the same place twice, but that sword was always with them. Alfred loved to come up with stories of where it came from. Passed down from one of those kings from the past, stolen from a thief, forged by a dwarf.

One day, when Alfred was 17, he was pretty sure about his age, his life ended.

~~~Fallen Stars~~~

You don't hear anything in the forest. You only hear what's in the forest. Alfred assumed that it was just the magical aspect of it all. But you could smell the outside world inside it. Alfred was alone in the forest, when he smelled it. The fire. It made his blood run cold and his stomach drop. He knew the routine when the raiders came. He found his family, they picked up the sword, and they got the hell out of there.

As Alfred started running out of the forest and the smoke completely clouded his vision and the screams made him go deaf, he prayed to whatever the hell was up there that his family would be okay, just as usual. He was coughing and could barely breathe through the smoke. The damn raiders were using magic this time.

"Dad!" Alfred chocked out, but he couldn't hear himself over the other screams around him. "Mom! Mattie!"

People ran into him, all trying to scatter in multiple directions. He couldn't even tell who were regular people and who were the raiders. He stopped in the middle of everything, people roughly shoving into him even though they couldn't see through the smoke either.

When the screams started to die down, that was when Alfred started to run again. When this happened, you either prayed that you choked on the smoke or got burned to death by the fire. If the raiders got you, they'd kill you whatever merry way they wanted. If the thieves got you, you better hope that it was when you were dead. Alfred couldn't tell if the ones attacking were the thieves or the raiders, but he just hoped that his family could make it out alive.

"Dad! Mom!" Alfred screamed again, and his feet caught on something as he started to run full speed. He tripped, falling right into the muddy, hot remains of some shack right onto his face. He coughed up dirt and the smoke. He couldn't move. The screams were almost completely died down.

"Alfred?" came a weak voice and Alfred winced. He could hardly breathe. He glanced back at what he managed to trip on and couldn't stop himself from screaming. He didn't even notice that everything was now quiet. Below his feet, his face frozen in a permanent terror, was his own father. His skin was burned past recognition on his arms and legs and his mother laid beside him, her hair completely gone from her head.

He was suddenly kicked harshly in his side and he heard a crack, making him shut up. He knew that, if he was going to be smart, he had to stay quiet when a raider wanted their way. Now he just had to pray that it wasn't a thief.

"Look at this fucker!" the man laughed, his voice raspy and Alfred swore from that day on that he would never forget that voice. The voice of the man that took away his parents, that beat him to shit, that degraded his brother to the point of frequent nightmares. That voice would never leave Alfred's enraged thoughts.

"Fuck, it's alive!" another one cackled and Alfred received another kick, to his other side, this one much, much harder than the last. They seemed to think it a game after that, kicking him as hard as they could and Alfred had a jarring thought as he coughed up blood just as the smoke was clearing.

They had boots.

"Alfred?" a weak voice coughed and Alfred made the mistake of tensing and trying to get up. A booted foot slammed into his face, forcing him back down.

"I think he knows the beauty!" the first man howled in laughter and kicked multiple times into Alfred's face. The other one kept kicking at his back and a knew one had his merry way stomping on Alfred's hands. Alfred stopped holding back and screamed. He screamed for his life, hoping someone, anyone had the decency to save them. But that just wasn't something this world held. Mercy. "Do you know the fucking puppet?" the man leaned down and whispered his gravelly voice into Alfred's ear.

"Fuck you," Alfred growled and spit in his face. The man's face said it all, despite Alfred's blurry vision through the pain. The rugged and clean shaven face. The well-kept hair, the well put together clothing. These were thieves. And they had Matthew.

"Alfred! Help me!" Matthew screamed to the point where his voice broke and the men around him just laughed.

"Ya know what I think?" the man laughed, pulling out a knife and stabbing it into Alfred's hand with full force. It stung with a pain Alfred had never felt and his vision went red for a while as he screamed his lungs out. "He should watch. They're fucking brothers, right?"

"Shit, they are!" another one started laughing, howling at the clearing sky.

"Let's have you take a look!" the first one kicked Alfred so hard, he turned, flopping onto his other side. The first thing he saw was his brother, held on both arms by thieves, his blank eyes staring into nothing, hoping that Alfred would come and save him. Tears ran down his face, tears Alfred had nearly forgotten he even had.

"Alfred," he whimpered out, looking like he wanted to fall to his knees, but the men were holding him up.

"Ain't he a fuckin' beauty?" the first man laughed, waltzing over the burned ashes of the ground and bodies to get to Matthew, who shrunk away from him immediately after he was touched. The man just laughed and roughly grabbed onto Matthew's face, popping the jaw out of place. Matthew screamed and Alfred flinched.

"Mat-" he couldn't even finish, not just because of the pain he was in, but because of a sharp knife pressed against his neck, already making his blood dribble down, onto the ground.

"Say one word and we'll kill you and take him with us," the man in front of Matthew laughed. "Lay there quietly, and we may just let you both die together. We're just that nice of people."

"Please…" Matthew begged and Alfred nearly yelled at him. Their father told them never to beg, never back down. If you're gonna die, you die with dignity. "D-don't hurt me…Please."

"Oh, I ain't gonna hurt you, beauty," the man laughed, looking Matthew over with hungry eyes that made Alfred sick. "I'm gonna pleasure you."

Matthew froze at that, shaking terribly now. His blind eyes searched frantically for Alfred, his only hope. It was just a shame that Alfred was no hero. He had no ability to save him, ever. He was just kidding himself when he thought that he could in the first place.

Alfred tried to close his eyes as Matthew was undressed forcefully while the man seemed to be enjoying every moment of it. The person holding the knife to his neck hit him hard in the back of the head.

"You gotta watch, kid," the guy growled and Alfred forced himself to open his eyes and look. Another memory ingrained in his brain forever. That one man that destroyed every aspect of Alfred's life that he thought existed before that one day.

Matthew screamed every second of it, screamed for Alfred to come and save him, when all Alfred could do was sit there in agony, hit every time he even blinked. The smoke was clear, the magic from the fire gone, sucked up by the forest. He was forced to watch as Matthew's world shattered, as all of the hope he'd ever had disappeared.

When the man that destroyed everything was happy, he dropped Matthew to the ground without a hint of remorse and laughed, looking at Alfred. He charged toward him one last time, kicking him right in the center of his stomach. Alfred puked right there and it felt like anything that was ever in his stomach came out. The thieves around them just laughed, enjoying the rest of their day as they walked off, going to find the next town to attack.

Alfred laid there, shaking as he tried to get over the pain, tried to erase the memories. Eventually, he looked over at his brother, who was blindly clutching at the ground around him, choking out sobs that could barely make it out before the next one.

That was all Alfred needed to keep going, to move on with his life. His brother was still alive and needed him. He couldn't be a hero to him before, but he sure as hell was going to be one now.

"Mattie," Alfred barely managed out a word as he slowly squirmed his way over, next to his brother. He was thankful those thieves hadn't felt the need to kill him with their own hands like they often did to everyone else.

"A-Alfred," Matthew's voice cracked and he urgently surged forward, his blind eyes roving around uselessly, as if they could actually see Alfred.

"Right here," Alfred muttered out, reaching forward just enough to brush Matthew's hand. Matthew immediately found it again, clutching it with all of the life he had left. Alfred knew that they couldn't make it out of there alive, let alone find a place to get them back up to normal health. If anyone even got ill, they were sent away from everyone, so that no one else would die. No one had the mercy to take in someone who was injured.

"Do-don't leave," Matthew muttered, crying like his life depended on it.

"We're going to make it," Alfred promised. He didn't know how he could possibly come up with that kind of idea. But he didn't it anyway and he clung to the idea for all of his life. That was how he kept going with his life. He clung to that one idea. Alfred slowly and barely managed to get onto his knees. "I'm going to get dad's sword and then we'll make it out of here."

"No," Matthew furiously shook his head. "You can't leave. Please…Don't…"

"I'll be back," Alfred nodded as he shakily stood on his feet, barely able to stay standing and his lungs aching with every word he tried to speak. "Promise."

"Don't go," Matthew whispered. Alfred wouldn't hear his voice loud again. Matthew would prefer to stay quiet, stay on the sidelines, where he wouldn't be noticed.

Alfred nodded back to him, even though he knew Matthew couldn't see him. He slowly trudged through the mess of corpses and burnt remains, Matthew quietly calling out to him. He barely managed to find where their shack used to be and he prayed and hoped that the thieves hadn't stolen it.

He tumbled to the ground when he saw the glistening of the gold on the sword, something his dad fought to ensure no one had ever seen. The sheath and the hilt were made of an opulent gold that Alfred only saw a few times in his whole life. Coughing up even more blood, Alfred slowly reached forward slowly to hold onto the sword. It was a miracle the thieves didn't take it, it was so obvious. However, Alfred glanced to his left and saw that there was the corpse of a thief nearby, his hand burned to the point where Alfred could see bone. Alfred shivered as he reached forward and grabbed hold of the sheath.

And it was like all of his pain just suddenly melted away. It wasn't hard to breathe and he felt well enough to stand. To jump and run. Alfred was quickly on his feet, holding onto the sword tightly into his hand. Was this why his dad wanted to keep it so badly? Alfred looked himself over, not even a scar was present on his skin.

"Mattie!" Alfred called over and ran, scrambling to get over to his brother. If this sword could heal him, maybe it could help Matthew, too. Maybe they could actually make it out of this alive.

"Alfred," Matthew whispered, clutching at the ground around him again, as if he could pull Alfred over to him. "Please…please don't leave me again."

"It's okay, I got you," Alfred said soothingly, rubbing his brother's back. "Here," Alfred held out the sword to Matthew, placing it on the ground. Matthew fumbled for it as Alfred took off his shirt, placing it over Matthew's bare body as he watched the scars disappear slowly and Matthew's breathing evened out.

"I don't understand," Matthew muttered, shaking his head as he slowly managed to sit upright, wincing at a pain that Alfred knew was only mental and would probably only stay that way. Alfred noticed with a frown, however, that Matthew's eyes remained blank.

"It's Dad's sword," Alfred smiled at him, taking hold of the sword while Matthew still gripped it, as if he was afraid that the wounds would come back as soon as he let go. "Now I know why he always made us keep it."

"Is…is he…?" Matthew muttered, unable to finish the sentence and Alfred sighed. He didn't want to confirm it, to leave them alone in this fucked up world. So Alfred didn't say anything and Matthew nodded in silent agreement.

"I promise, Mattie," Alfred vowed, "you will never be hurt again. I swear to you that…that I'll be a hero, like Dad wanted me to be. I'm going to make this world into something better. As long as I can help it, no one will ever be hurt again." And Alfred was finally crying. He was shaking, refusing to look at the reality of the world, but at the one in his head, with his eyes closed. The one that he was vowing to make. "I promise."

"Good luck," Matthew whispered. "You'll need it."

~~~Fallen Stars~~~

So, this didn't take me three tries to write at all… And I "totally" wasn't watching Cosmos while writing more than half of this… I have no idea what you're talking about… Anyway, this has been planned for a while, but I've had a lot on my plate recently, so this has been a rough time starting it. As I did with my last story, I'm going to stay three chapters ahead and I will update as fast as I can, promise!

Anyway, on with talking about plot and things, this is only the first chapter, the tip of the iceberg. There's gonna be a ton of people in this one, I promise. And the thieves are OCs, don't worry, no one's that cruel. Basically, the way this world works is that it doesn't. Shit just hit the fan after "something happened." More on that later in the actual plot. At the beginning of every chapter, I'm going to have a quote and I'll take the chapter title from the quote, so you can look forward to that. And I think this will be the worst any of the chapters get…rape wise and all that. I really debated on having it in there, but I feel like it shows you just what's going on in this world.

Pairing wise, they are as follows: USUK, FrUK, PruCan, GerIta, AusHun, and maybe Spamano. You have been warned. I really want each chapter to be 3,000 to 4,000 words, but we'll see how that goes.

Also, in other news, I'm going to have a little competition. I have a huge plot twist coming up and if any reader can give me an educated guess on what it is, then I will give you your very own Hetalia one-shot! I wish you all luck!

Please review! Tell me how you feel about this thus far!

And I do not and never will own Hetalia. There. I've said it. Happy?