L

Wehrmacht nodded, glad that conversation was over. He folded his wings and went into the estate. 

 Iremacht was not there. 

 "Huh, maybe he went to his room," Wehrmacht murmured. "Hope he's not too broken. He needs to get used to the truth." 

Wehrmacht spotted the leftover beer on the living room table and offered MA a glass.

M

"Hmm, I don't usually drink, but I'll make an exception today." MA said, taking the glass. He inspected the beer for a bit before drinking, then hummed, "Not bad, has a nice sweetness to it."  

As he drank, he suddenly remembered a question he had earlier, "Oh I just remembered, I wanted to ask you about that harp over there." He pointed to the harp leaning against the fireplace, "Is it yours, or does Iremacht write songs when he isn't shooting people with paintball rifles."

L

Wehrmacht almost choked on his beer in the middle of a chuckle. 

 "It's mine," Wehrmacht answered. "Brought it back from Ireland to keep me company. The kid doesn't play it though. He's more of the cook of the house." A nostalgic smile appeared on the German's face. "He takes after Ireland that way. I would have starved otherwise or poisoned myself with whatever I cook."

M

MA chuckled slightly, "Fascinating, you and Trigger are very similar, he also plays and can't cook, I'm starting to think he should have come here instead of me." 

He finished his beer and set the cup on the table and looked over to the place Iremacht was sitting at earlier. Guilt started to tug at him, he was beginning to think maybe he was too hard on the kid before, so he turned back to Wehr, "Hey, I'm sorry for yelling at your son earlier, I think I was a little too hard on him."

L

"Machty can take a hit," Wehrmacht reassured him. He was also partially reassuring himself as he said it. "It's good for him to get a different living perspective than from the books. Really, it's partly my fault. I'm never comfortable talking about Prussia, which is why Machty has to resort to what the books tell him to begin with." 

 Wehrmacht glanced at the stairs that led to the second floor, where Iremacht's room was. Sighing, he poured himself another glass of beer to help get rid of his worries.

M

MA hummed in response, not really sure how to continue the conversation. He then pulled his eye patch out to inspect it, running his thumb over the red splotch that was still on it, he sighed slightly at the irony of it. The shield with the sun and moon on it was a reference to Mandoria, who also had it on his flag. But as MA looked at it with the paint on it, it was like looking at a bloody reminder of that fateful day so with another sigh, he put it back in his pocket so he didn't have to look at it anymore.

L

Iremacht was, in fact, upstairs in his room. He had his paintball sniper with him, though he wasn't sure how long it would remain - hopefully his father had forgotten his threat to break his sniper earlier. He unloaded the paintball from the gun, placing it in a bin of other red paintballs. 

He heard the door open downstairs and the mumbling of voices. Curious, Iremacht switched to Enhanced Mode so he could listen in on the conversation Wehrmacht was having with their guest. The teen was surprised that MA had apologized. He was kind of irritated with his father for not telling him everything about his own great-grandfather. It seemed as if no one liked Prussia. How were the books and people so different? 

 "History is written by the winners," Iremacht echoed Wehrmacht's words. "But people must have bias too right?" 

 After hearing MA's story, he was definitely shocked at what Prussia had done. Yet what if that was a necessary evil? Empires back in the day were always fighting; it was kill or be killed. Perhaps Prussia was justified? There had to be a reason why he was so cruel. 

 Iremacht held his head in frustration

M

"So Wehrmacht, if you don't fly, then what do you do for fun, do you just sit around and play music all day?" MA asked. 

He found he was getting kind of antsy and wanted to do something interesting. He didn't know much about what Germans did in their spare time, though he guessed that it probably had something to do with beer.

L

"Well I mostly train Bundeswehr," the German shrugged. "He's got a long way to go before he can start leading any armies or commandeering any military operations. On paper, I'm retired, but I'll retain control over some of Germany's troops until Bundie can handle everything on his own. Other than that, I'm babysitting this rebel - " Wehrmacht pointed his finger upstairs " - until Ireland settles a government feud in his capital Dublin." He shook his head. "Machty is a handful though. In all honesty, Ireland has been the one disciplining the kid, not me. The little soldier seems to think he gets free reign of the place since Ireland isn't around."

M

"Huh" MA said in both fascination and disbelief, "I guess the newer generations are a lot crazier than I thought. Back in my day, teens and kids were always respectful and obedient towards their parents, doing whatever they said and never disobeyed them." 

 He shook his head at how disrespectful people are becoming, but then an idea crossed his mind, "Hey, if you trained Bundeswehr and Iremacht then that must mean there is a gun range here, what do you say we head over there an have ourselves a friendly military competition." MA suggested.

L

Wehrmacht's eyes lit up at the mention of guns. MA was right, there was a gun range nearby; he used it for Bundie's training and also Iremacht's sniper practice - hence the paintball sniper. 

 "I'll let Iremacht know that we're leaving," he said, flying up the stairs to the second floor. He paused, then leaned over the balcony. "You can come upstairs too, might as well give you a short tour of my house."

M

"Sure, why not." MA said, he then flew up as well, landing next to Wehr, "I know this might be a little out of line, but maybe we could bring Iremacht with us. I admit I was very impressed with his shooting earlier and am kind of interested in what else he has to offer." 

 MA knew it was a long shot asking that since Iremacht got in trouble for shooting, but he figured he might as well try anyway.

L

As he walked down the hall towards Iremacht's door, Wehrmacht considered the offer. He felt a flare of fatherly pride that MA was impressed with his son. 

 "If you're permitting him to go after that paintball encounter, then I won't hold him back," Wehrmacht decided. 

 In his room, Iremacht heard footsteps approaching and quickly stashed his paintball supplies away under his bed. He grabbed his smartphone - it was the 21st century after all - and sat on his unmade bed, pretending to be checking the weather. He was just in time because Wehrmacht opened the door at that moment, revealing his son's very messy teenage room. 

M

MA could feel the pride coming off of Wehr's wings and he couldn't help but chuckle to himself, it was just when he did something to impress his own father. When the two approached Iremacht's room, MA hung back a bit so as not to intrude in the kid space, though he did get a glimpse of what the inside looked like. 

 "Woah" he said under his breath.

The room kind of reminded him of Mandara's office after a long day and the dog got loose in it.

L

"Machty," Wehrmacht said, his tone serious. "MA here was kind enough to let you near some guns despite what you did to him today. Do you want to join us at the shooting range?" 

 "For real?" Iremacht gaped. "Can I fire live shots?" 

 Wehrmacht bit the inside of his mouth as he thought about it. "Fine, but only because MA is here." He added jokingly, "You better not mess up and make me look bad." 

 "I won't," Iremacht rolled his eyes. 

He glanced sheepishly at MA, who was hanging back in the hallway. Was the militant still mad at him for what he said about Prussia? But then he wouldn't have invited Iremacht to the shooting range, would he? The teenager wasn't sure what to make of this guest who had radiated so much anger and intimidating aura from before. 

M

" 'Machty' huh, interesting nickname." MA commented, "that reminds me of the name may brother's boyfriend calls him, Mandy I think it was, but that's beside the point. I was quite impressed with your skills, I hope you are as good a shot with a real gun as you are with a paintball rifle." He then spoke to Wehrmacht, "So how far is the gun range, because I admit I don't really like cars."

L

"Not far because I don't like cars either - too cramped for our wings," Wehrmacht chuckled, motioning for Iremacht to follow them downstairs. "I was originally going to nickname this kid Irie but he keeps saying it's too girly, hm?" 

 Iremacht elbowed his father and protested, "It is! Sounds like Iris or something. Stop embarrassing me in front of a General!" 

 "Oh so now you've decided to respect your elders and their titles," Wehrmacht scoffed. "But not your own Dad? Am I too low on your cool meter?" 

 "You could say that," Iremacht retorted. "You're a boring dad, all you do is train Bundie all day." 

"And Ireland's the cool, fun one?" Wehrmacht said sarcastically to which Iremacht replied, "Yes! Er, sometimes. When he doesn't get mad at me." 

 "I can be fun..." Wehrmacht mumbled, his wings sinking a bit. 

Iremacht just stuck his tongue out skeptically and raced out the door.

M

MA couldn't help but silently laugh as the two Germans bickered, it was very entertaining to say the least. 

 "Is this what it's like to have kids? I thought UK's were bad but this is a whole different level, but at least he hasn't tried to pluck you." he said, then frowned at his inaccurate statement and tried to reiterate himself, "I mean, assuming he hasn't."

L

Wehrmacht stepped out of the estate, spotting Iremacht already on the street. The shooting range was just a few blocks away, about a ten minute walk. It was a private shooting range reserved for this wealthy neighborhood to use. 

 "Ah, let's just say I shouldn't have fallen asleep with my wing so close to the crib," Wehrmacht replied to MA, grimacing at the memory. "I'm surprised he didn't try plucking YOU yet. When United Nations visited last time, the prank was feather-plucking instead of paintball. UN ended up not flying back properly." Wehrmacht rubbed his face in exasperation. "Iremacht alone could be responsible for the deterioration of Germany's foreign relations."

M

MA winced at the idea that UN had to go through being plucked, he definitely knew how that felt, "I guess kids just don't know how to keep their hands to themselves, especially America when he was little, I still think I'm missing a feather or two from him." 

He half opened his right wing and ran his hand over it like he was trying to find the missing spots. "Though thanks for the warning, I'll definitely keep an eye on him in case he tries anything else."

L

"You seem to have a lot of encounters with UK's kids. I'm guessing you have a solid economic ties with UK himself? And likely France too," Wehrmacht said. 

Once again, he was aware he drove the conversation back to the real reason behind his guests' visit—the trade deal. His calculating side mulled over whom the country of Mandara was allied with, how those relations would affect Germany, whether they would pose an obstacle, threat, or precaution. 

 In the distance, the familiar sound of gunshots resonated through the air from the shooting range.

M

"Eh ... sort of" MA said. "Trigger and I aren't that close to him now but back when my father was king and UK was British Empire our kingdoms were fairly close allies, and father would often travel to the British isles to discuss things with him and he would often bring us with him. Unfortunately, we were usually left with UK's kids, who were all quite young at the time and didn't understand that feathers belonged on wings and not on the floor." 

 After telling yet another story, MA fell into silence to let Wehrmacht speak.

L

Wehrmacht barked out a laugh. That was very true: feathers belonged on wings, DEFINITELY not the floor. He opened his mouth to comment but Iremacht interrupted him. 

 "Hey Dad, which one should I use, sniper or handgun?" Iremacht yelled from where he stood at a stall by the shooting range. 

There was a selection of guns hung up on a wall for them to choose from. A row of targets, varying in distance, were lined up across the green field and shooters were required to stand behind a counter. 

 "Hmm, since MA said you were good with the rifle, why don't you show him more with that sniper?" Wehrmacht suggested. 

Iremacht beamed at him. The sniper was his favorite choice of weaponry. 

M

MA smiled as Iremacht happily went about picking his weapon, he usually didn't much care for hanging around kids, but he was quickly growing attached to this one. In all honesty, Iremacht reminded him of himself when he was his age, they both had the spunky attitude and loved weapons. 

"Too bad Trigger isn't here," MA whispered to Wehr, "He would love Iremacht, he'd probably try to challenge him to see who could fire better though." He chuckled at the thought, "Now that would be very interesting indeed."

L

"Hence the nickname Trigger?" Wehrmacht guessed with a smirk. "Fatherly commitment aside, though, I'd put my money on Machty. The kid's got quite a set of...eyes." 

 Iremacht finished selecting the sniper he desired, his fingers tingling with excitement at a real gun in his hands. He was normally barred from playing with guns accept at the shooting range, and often times he would only be allowed to use the BB-guns. Today, he finally got to use an actual sniper with a loaded bullet and the adrenaline instantly triggered his Enhanced Mode, turning bright green pupils to sudden crimson—almost bloodthirsty. 

M

MA nodded in confirmation but then glared at Wehr when he mentioned Iremacht's eyes, "Oh I see how it is, you think just because Trigger is blind in one eye that he can't shoot huh. Well I'll have you know that he is a better shot than any man in my army and even myself, he could kick both your asses in a contest." 

MA didn't know that Wehr was talking about something else since he didn't see the Enhanced Mode eyes when Iremacht shot him, and Iremacht was facing away from them right now.

L

Sensing the sincere anger coming off of MA, Wehrmacht realized he had been misunderstood. He raised his hands, palms forward. 

"I wasn't talking about your brother," he clarified. "Believe me, you and I have probably been shooting with one eye for most of our military careers, and I'm sure we're good with guns. Nein, I meant something else." 

 Wehrmacht called out his son's name. Iremacht whirled around to stare at the two militants, his red eyes still flashing with anticipation for the gunfire.

"That's what I meant by 'eyes'," Wehrmacht explained to MA, tilting his head to observe his reaction.

M

MA took a step back in shock, just a few minutes ago the kid's eyes were an emerald green, but now they had become bloodshot red with slit pupils. MA was slightly scared by the change, as it was like staring into eyes of a demon.

"W-wha- but his- they were- what?" he stuttered unable to form words due to how taken aback he was.

L

"It's called his Enhanced Mode. So far, it gives him heightened senses, but I've been training him to gain a heightened physique too," said Wehrmacht, frowning at his son. "Iremacht tone down the red..." 

 Iremacht glowered at his father for a moment. With those red eyes staring at him, Wehrmach'ts wings flicked uncomfortably. Today was redder than normal, probably because of Iremacht's excitement. It always reminded him of his brother Schutzstaffel's eyes. 

 Eventually, Iremacht tampered down the fire in his gaze, though his pupils remained red, and he held up his sniper. "Can I shoot for the farthest target?"

M

MA noticed that Wehr seemed unnerved at his own son glaring at him with his 'Enhanced Mode' eyes, but he decided to turn a blind eye and walked up Iremacht.

"Of course you can, in fact, let's have a small contest, you and your sniper rifle against me and my handgun." He challenged, pulling his gun out of his holster, "Wehrmacht, you want in?"

L

Wehrmacht rubbed his hands together and nodded, also selecting a handgun from the wall. He took his position behind the counter next to Iremacht, who was already squinting at the distant target with his sniper raised. 

 "Let's do this," mumbled Iremacht. 

He adjusted his grip on the gun. He rolled his shoulder, loosening himself up. His eye glimmered. He steadied his breathing.He opened fire. Wood splintered on the target. 

 "Verdammt!" Iremacht hissed. "I hit the edge of the inner ring."

M

MA patted him on the shoulder, "It's ok, the first shot is always the hardest." 

He then raised his gun and aimed for the target, not loading it since it already was from the paintball encounter. He too steadied his breathing and fired three times, two bullets hit dead in the center while the third hit ever so slightly above it. Lowering his weapon, he admired his accuracy, even after over a decade of not be in war, he still had his skill.

L

"Whoa!" Iremacht breathed. This was why he liked militant entities; they were quite literally awesome. The teen made a note to himself to try out handguns next time. 

 "Nice shots!" Wehrmacht complimented MA. "Or, as Ireland would say, bullseye! Have you been practicing in peacetime?" Wehrmacht raised his own handgun, staring at the target as he waited for MA's answer.

M

"I have, it's a nice stress reliever after a long day, so long as you don't get carried away of course." MA answered, "I remember once I was having a really bad day and I went to the gun range to blow of some steam, I don't remember why it was a bad day, but I do know it had something to do with Italy because I posted his picture to one of the targets." 

He then smirked, "Needless to say that when I was done there wasn't a target left."

L

Wehrmacht arched his eyebrows at the image of Italy's picture blown to bits along with the wooden frame. Oh little Italy and his shenanigans. He looked at the target and decided to try imagining a certain entities face on it. He growled and fired. 

 The first bullet was a little off but the next two hit the center, going straight through the hole that MA had already made. Wehrmacht lowered his gun in satisfaction. 

M

"Impressive, I guess you also have been practicing a lot, but how about we try some trick shots." 

MA smiled mischievously, he aimed for another target and fired five shots, but this time with both his eyes closed. Of the five bullets, one one hit the outer ring, one hit the on the line of the inner ring and the center, and the last three hit the center in a triangular pattern. 

 MA opened his eyes and smiled smugly, "Beat that!"

L

"Upping the game, I see." Wehrmacht loaded a few more rounds into his handgun, got a good look at the target, and also closed his eyes. He twirled his gun in his fingers before firing five times. His first three hit the line of the inner ring and center, completing a square along with the bullet hole that MA had shot. His last two hit the center, turning MA's triangle into a pentagonal shape. 

 Wehrmacht opened one eye. "Hm, seems you won that round. Pretty good design, don't you think?" 

 Iremacht, meanwhile, was staring wide-eyed at the two like they were his idols. Which, in a sense, they were quickly becoming.

M

"Yes it is" MA muttered raising a brow, "A little too good to have been done with your eyes closed. But enough of us hogging the spotlight, Iremacht why don't you show us what you can do with a handgun." 

He then reloaded his own gun and handed it to Iremacht, "Just don't break it." he added in a serious tone.

L

Iremacht gingerly took MA's handgun, admiring the sleek surface and the weight of it in his palms. He adjusted his grip on the handle and pointed it at the target. This time, he didn't tamp down his redness; his eyes went back to their blazing crimson as he narrowed them in determination and focus. He wanted to impress MA and prove himself worthy of the competition. 

 Iremacht fired just a single shot. The bullet went through the center of the pentagon.

M

MA immediately applaud Iremacht's accuracy, "Excellent shot soldier, why you'd be war ready in no time with that skill." 

He then smirked at Wehr and nudged him with his wing, "Better watch out Wehrmacht, looks like he's heading for your title." 

 He honestly said that because he wanted to see if he could spark up a competition between father and son.

L

"I wish he was," Wehrmacht grumbled. "But instead, UN and EU appointed Bundeswehr as the next militant. I've got nothing against Bundie but, you know, it would've been nice if Iremacht was successor. Unfortunately, this kid got himself in too much trouble to be suitable for the job." 

He nudged MA back with his own wing. "He's ready to take my title anytime. It's already proven his Enhanced shooting makes him a better shot than I'll ever be."

M

"Ain't that the truth" MA said shaking his head, "but on that note, with all this talk of Bundeswehr, I am definitely curious about him, maybe if we have time we could go meet him later." 

With that, MA walked over to the gun stall to pick out another weapon since he let Iremacht use his. He then came back with a sniper rifle as well.

"I'm not as good as my brother with these ones, but let's how good I am against you 'Machty' " he said as he was loading it.

L

Iremacht flushed in embarrassment at the use of his nickname and pouted, "I bet you can't even aim with that. You gotta be extra steady with those." 

 While Iremacht and MA competed, Wehrmacht hung back by the stall, breathing in the fresh open air. It would be a good idea to have MA meet Bundeswehr formally to get a headstart on military relations once Bundie became the official militant. He was wondering what his apprentice was doing at the moment. 

 He didn't have to wonder long. From down the street, an urgent voice shouted his name. Wehrmacht sprang upright just as a blue-faced countryhuman burst into the shooting range, almost knocking into MA. He skidded to a halt before he hit the Mandarian, staring in surprise at him for a few seconds as he recovered his bearings.