Countryhumans: HARM

Third Reich sat outside, and even if he knew he was meant to be studying, he had started drawing at the bottom of his notebook.

The sound of tires scraping against the ground made him look up, watching his eightteen year old brother crash into the yard on his bike with a relatively loud exclamation.

Third closed his notebook and the chemistry book he had been reading, tucking them both under his arm and starting to walk towards the house as he heard Weimar Republic complaining about the "Sheer inconvenience of having to still ride a bike everywhere." He  talked too much for somebody who was old enough to drive.

"Maybe if you could sustain a drop of money, you'd be able to afford a motorcar."

Third stated, stepping onto the porch behind his brother, who opened the door.

"What do you know about money? You're twelve for fuck's sake."

"I know you're not able to handle it, for one."

He retorted pointedly as they both walked inside, walking straight past him and towards his room. Weimar tried to trip Third on his way down the hallway, but he simply stepped around his leg. He was used to this by now, which.. Weimar was sadistically disappointed he couldn't watch his little brother fall like an idiot anymore.

Third half slammed his bedroom door behind himself, checking the time from the clock on his nightstand. It was around 4:45, and he sighed. Their father would be home within the hour.

17:00'... better lock the door.

He thought, half throwing his books onto his bed and turning around to lock his bedroom door. He never knew what would happen when his father got home, so he always tried to stay away from it. Weimar hadn't seemed to learn that yet. He listened to his brother get scolded, hit, whatever the German Empire was in the mood for. They had both been told, however, that he would be sent off in an army division for the war that following month. Third was excited he was leaving, but mad that he'd be stuck with his brother. As soon as the lock in the doorknob clicked, he heard Weimar start talking to himself.

"I hope he never comes home from that stupid war. Maybe I'll get my inheritance sooner.."

Oh, right. The inheritance that Third was supposed to have, but the humans had other plans merely because their father had started a war. But... Weimar Republic wasn't a Reich. He shouldn't be in line between the second and third, should he?

No.

Third sat down on the edge of his bed, fidgetting with the bottom of his shirt. He started drawing, -anything to get his mind off of things, and sooner or later, he heard the front door open and an immediate complaint through the wall.

"Weimar! Was zum te- *hell?! I said I'd be home early, and here you stand with dirt on your clothes like you've just gotten here yourself!"

There was a moment of indistinct shuffling, and something was muttered that Third couldn't hear... But he heard the reaction.

"You're so entitled, you little brat! I go out, pay for this house, pay for you to live, maintain a country and fight a war, and you tell me that as an adult you simply 'couldn't make time to work for yourself.' Never did I think my son could be such a retard!"

"Yeah, well who else would you pass it to, huh? That's right, nobody."

Weimar defended hesitantly, and one of them must've hit their hand on the kitchen table.

"'Nobody' is probably in his room right now, thinking of all the ways he'll be a better country than you! When we win this war, you'll still be left waiting. I am not giving my country to such a worthless degenerate."

Third didn't take a side. He hated his brother and father equally, finding no reason to even like being in the room with either of them.

Pfft.. So I guess I'd be better at it. Good to know.

He thought, walking over and leaning against his bedroom door to hear better.

"Es tu- *Sorry, father."

The sound of boots on the old hardwood floor stormed down the hallway, right past Third's room. He held his breath as he heard them, but he heard something else, added by his father from down the hallway.

"I swear, either of you ould die and it would just mean my power lasts longer."

Either of us could die, eh?

Third picked up his notebook and wrote something at the top of a random page.

"Kill Weimar."