Actions

Work Header

Chrome Shelled Hetalia

Chapter Text

Chrome Shelled Hetalia

 

Hey guys! Sorry it’s been so long. And… I really, really, really apologize for posting a new story, but the idea wouldn’t leave me alone! D:

 

To the Hetalians: While you don’t have to have an understanding of Chrome Shelled Regios to get this fic, it is recommended for a richer experience. But if you do not know CSR, you can still understand and read this story.

 

To the Chrome Shelled Regios Peoples: An understanding of Hetalia is fundamental to be able to fully understand and enjoy this fic. The concept of personified nations is not something found only on CSR.

 

For those of you who are both: Great job! :D Let’s see how many references you get~!

 

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hetalia or Chrome Shelled Regios. I only own my idea/portrayal of Italy. ^_~

           

Prologue

           

            “Ve~” Italy sighed happily, as he sank into his seat in the Meeting Room a bit more. I’m so happy… I did it… I really did it. And the world is none-the-wiser~ Now I can just forget it all~ It was all like some sort of bad dream… a nightmare…

He tuned back into the meeting just as America was wrapping up. “And that’s what I think we should do about Global Warming! Of course, because I’m the Hero, my idea is obviously the best!”

“You bloody git! I raised you better than that!” England shouted, tired and fed-up with the obnoxious American.

“That is ENOUGH!” Germany finally shouted, quieting the entire room. “Italien… It is your turn.” He stated with a sigh, not expecting anything other than a cry of ‘pasta~!’ from the airheaded Italian.

“Ve~ Okay, Germany~” Italy chirped, as he took the stand. He then started to give an actual presentation on the dangers of pollution AND the dangers of ‘going green’, and why and how they should deal with it, as well as the dangers of nuclear power plants and how to make them safer, if not remove them completely. It was obvious that he’d practiced it quite a lot, and the other nations were taken quite aback by the high intelligence that Italy was showing for once. Not one time, did the Italian even so much as mention any kind of food or food-related subject—he stayed on-topic the entire time, and gave fantastic arguments, counterarguments, and counter-counterarguments.

Suffice to say, the others were blown out of the water—even Romano. By the time Italy had finally finished his presentation, a full 45 minutes later, the room was left in silence. “Any questions or comments?” He asked, turning away from his PowerPoint to address the room.

“Wha–?! What the fuck, Veneziano?!” Romano finally cried out.

“Ve? Romano?”

“What the hell is going on with you?! Since when do you give an actual presentation?! Since when are your arguments this good and well-thought out?! Since when do you even have a fucking argument?!” Italy sighed.

“I meant questions or comments about my presentation…”

Nobody quite knew what to say. It’d been obvious for a few months, now (actually, about a year) that Italy was a bit… off. But nobody could quite place how. Moreover, Italy had been spending a great deal of time alone, something very unusual for the Italian. He’d even been disappearing for days or even weeks at a time, without a word to anybody, and to be honest, it scared Romano quite a bit; he knew how terrified Veneziano was of being alone—unless he was in his private lab working on something. Italy always wanted to be alone when he was working on a private project, unless he needed some help.

But this was the strangest that Italy had ever been. He’d seemed a bit off before—reserved, introverted a bit, quieter, and perhaps even a bit depressed—but he’d never shown this much intelligence or initiative around anyone other than his brother. And to be honest, it frightened the other nations.

“No? Well, then, that concludes my presentation. Grazie for being so attentive.” Italy finally stated as he took his seat again. Nobody made a sound.

Italy knew he’d probably—scratch that—absolutely sent the room into shock. After all, he hadn’t really been one to show off his intelligence before, so why would they expect him to show it now? He’d always been extremely smart. After all, many of the world’s greatest minds came from Italy, and a nation’s personification is affected greatly by the minds of their people. Italy however, had actually spent personal time with some of the greatest minds of his nation. He was always irritated at how the other nations thought he was just a cowardly, naïve, hetare weakling.

He’d secretly helped Galileo with his theories of the Sun being the center of the solar system, even when the church persecuted Galileo; he’d secretly helped his friend continue the research. Leonardo da Vinci was his best friend for decades, and they constantly worked together on many theories and theorems and paintings, and debated many things back and forth for hours with topics that would make anyone else’s heads spin! He’d even helped him come up with the idea for, and design of, the helicopter and calculator! Italy had even co-written The Divine Comedy with Dante Alighieri!

He was by no means, an idiot. He’d just always been afraid to show it… He’d just simply prioritized having friends, and didn’t want to risk them rejecting him because he was smarter than them. Romano was the only one who knew of his true intelligence, and even he didn’t know about everything that Italy had done.

The others seemed to finally find their voices, and started pelting Italy with all sorts of questions about what the hell was going on with him lately. Even Germany pointed out that he’d actually been applying himself in training. Not only that, but he’d been spending most of his time with Romano and Japan and Germany (not that the last one was too strange, but the fact that he was spending as much time with Romano and Japan as he was Germany was a bit unusual). Plus, he noticed Canada, and wasn’t afraid of England or Russia… Russia!

Italy, however, simply ignored the questions, and occupied himself with his papers, silently telling them that he refused to answer. That is, until a bright red flash interrupted the chaos. Everyone fell silent, expecting to hear some sort of alarm. After a few seconds, the light flashed again, but nobody could pinpoint its location.

Italy tensed unnoticeably, the red flash bringing back some not-so-good memories of other alarm systems… explosions... the sound of click, click… click… click… he shuddered; they weren’t pleasant… But more than that… This-! This is kei! It’s strong, too! He thought to himself in fear. But why? How?! Kei… It shouldn’t exist! Not anymore, not here!

Italy discreetly started to channel his own kei, subconsciously reaching for the small, rectangular device that was hidden in his pocket. Nobody noticed this, however, because with the next red flash of light, a miniature aurora formed above the meeting table.

If any of the nations had been looking at Italy, they would’ve seen him pale drastically to a sheet-white color, and his golden eyes open wide before narrowing into slits as he glared at the multi-colored lights.

“The fuck is this?!” Romano shouted, confused as hell.

“Dude, I don’t know, but it’s cool!” America shouted, grinning like a maniac.

“But what is it?” England asked, bewildered. America reached forward, as if to touch it, when Italy shouted out in a no-nonsense tone that, quite honestly, scared the shit out of the other nations, “Don’t touch it!” America froze, mid-reach.

“O-Oi… Fratellino?” But before anyone else could say anything, the light from the aurora grew brighter, and brighter, as the kei grew stronger and stronger. The nations had to shield their eyes, though Italy was keeping his guard way up (and using his observational kei to make extra sure of it).

They felt their chairs fade away, as they all fell into unconsciousness. This kei… it feels… familiar somehow… I’ve felt it somewhere before… But… I can’t… remember… Then, Italy knew no more.