((I really would love a chance to perform this for other Hetalians, because I think it would just look and sound better than it just being words on a page.))

When I was fifteen, I killed Troy.

I remember seeing the blood on my dagger, watching the city be torn to shreds.

The strange thing? Rome doesn't even remember Troy, but I do.

Isn't it strange that the only one who remembers him is his killer?

Is that going to happen to me?!

My ways forgotten, every shred of my history ERASED!

Is that my fate?!

As I lay here, I ponder death, with steel plunged into my heart!

It wasn't a coincidence that you choose to strike me in my heart, is it?

The very same thing of yours that I BROKE!

Wait....is that the only reason you're doing this?!

Is this all happening because of a STUPID CRUSH?!

The very last thing I would see before my eyes close is my boy, my son, running towards us, and you taking him away.

We're not always remembred by our great achievements, sometimes, we are rememberd by who we kill.

I will always be known as the killer of Troy.

And you, no matter WHAT you choose to call yourself, will always be known as the killer of Ancient Greece!