It was a rainy October day. Francis Bonnefoi, otherwise known as France, was walking around his country and admiring the scenery. He let his mind wander and remember all that he'd been through. He felt time speed up around him. He saw children grow into seniors and die, he saw parents become grandparents and then great-grandparents. He saw people fall in love with each other and grow old. He saw people live their lives happily. He eventually stopped. He looked around and asked a young woman for the date. She answered that the year was 3012. He looked back stunned. He asked about the other countries. The woman answered that America went to war with Russia and has become Russian territory after a horrible defeat on American soil. The woman said how France was teetering on war with England due to a huge debt. The woman also said that Spain and Italy were slowly closing in and taking over parts of southern France. France thanked the woman and walked on. He saw England. England just looked at him utterly furious. He saw Spain. Spain seemed to have claimed more land. He saw Italy. Italy seemed to have lost his brother. He saw Russia. He didn't see America. France shuddered and looked around at the world. He realized how fast everything was changing. How eventually he would disappear. At the next world meeting, England refused to even look at him. Russia had America following him around and had utter control over him. Italy was crying over the loss of his brother. So was Germany. He saw that Spain had changed. He seemed to be missing a part of him. France realized that he must be hurting after the loss of Romano too. He saw how the world had only become more unhappy. China and Japan were on hostile terms unseen for almost 200 years. Taiwan all but disappeared. South Korea didn't have a north anymore. Belarus seemed to begin to invade parts of Russia. France looked at these broken people. Then he looked at their inhabitants. The American people seemed defeated, but they didn't really care. They just accepted it and moved on. They loved, they lived, they died. The French seemed worried that they would soon be either Spanish or Italian. But they just loved, lived, and died. France looked around and realized that these people would be broken and defeated no matter where they met or how far they would live. No matter how "awesome" they were or how kind they were. They would be defeated and broken and wanting to die, but being unable to do so. They wouldn't be able to truly live. They would love, but always be heartbroken. They wouldn't die for a long, long time. France walked around and took a good long look at the scenery of France. He felt tears fall from his eyes as he felt the world move fast around him again. Eventually, WWIII did happen. It was when there was a second American Revolution, this time against Russia, when France went to war with Italy, Spain, and England. When China tried to invade Japan and Taiwan sold their land to China. Nobody had any allies. Everyone was more alone than ever before. Switzerland remained neutral as per usual. Then Austria pushed his borders into Liechtenstein and he went nuts. It seemed that everyone was fighting each other, sabotaging each other. France was caught in the midst of it all. He watched as China became Japanese territory, then vice versa. He watched England bomb his beloved Paris. He watched Spain and Italy fight over where the border for their countries should end. He watched Switzerland use his military knowledge to all but murder Austria. He watched Taiwan disappear with no chance of coming back. He saw all the blood and death and sadness of this new world. Even Canada got into the fighting. The only time they noticed him was when he fought alongside his brother to help him gain independence. He fought hard and went as far as to claim parts of Russia and buy Alaska from America. France looked at all this blood and war. The anger. The bitterness. He felt himself fold in on himself. He had two countries south of him fighting over where they should the border. He had a country he loved deeply bombing his capital and various other cities and towns. France fell onto his knees and yelled a sentence heard around the world: "WHY ARE WE ALL FIGHTING?!" Suddenly, it was as if a pause button was hit. Everyone looked at each other and took in what they had done. Everyone paused and took in the bloodshed. The hatred. The bitterness. They realized that the country who got it the worst was the one who was supposed to represent love. France was very weak and brittle by this point. He utterly surrendered and died then and there. The world mourned his death, for they all realized something: they killed the love of the world. They couldn't bring him back. After everyone looked back on what they did, who they lost, and who would never be the same, they moved forward. The way they always do. The school's of all the countries had a special class called "French History". It was when they would delve deep into the history of France. But not in the usual school way. It would be the life of Francis Bonnefoi.