Italy's boots landed on the soft earth with a gentle thud as he walked, basking in the warm air of late spring. He'd just woken from a long, refreshing siesta, and felt the need to celebrate by taking a stroll through the neighborhood, which he planned to end at Germany's house. He hadn't seen his friend much lately (he'd been swamped with paperwork), and decided he'd drop in and say 'Hello'.

"Canada, are you awake?"
America's voice echoed down the hall, steel walls reflecting the cold words back on each other until it faded into oblivion.
"Canada?"
The screeching of metal-on-metal and rattling of chains, and the thud of heavy boots entered the cell, fluorescent lights barely illuminating a prone figure chained to the dirty wall.
"Hey, bro."