Aftermath Plans || Amerus / Rusame

𝕀𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕕𝕦𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒈𝒏𝒊𝒛𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒕 𝒂 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒚𝒆
𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒇𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒂𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒎 𝒔𝒆𝒂
𝒊 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔 𝒃𝒐𝒚
𝒊'𝒗𝒆 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆

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Russia was born three months after the most tragic and disasterous war imaginable, in a remote cottage of Moscow. That december was warmer than the previous years, his father would say, all because of his presence.
On that day his father, exhausted by the ongoing affairs, had smiled sincerely for the first time in years. With that he was told he was the hope of the house, considering his moral help to his father.

Maybe it was true, maybe it wasn't, but the impact was there-everyone noticed how much more impactful his strategies became after him.

The anger driven monster, harbinger of destruction-all cooled down on that december night, solidifying into a man of many wits. Russia brought him his maturity back even stronger, and that made him stronger than ever.

As expected of the mighty, glorious, breathtaking Soviet Union.

If there was anything in his life that Russia was proud of, it was who his father was.

The mighty Soviet Union, only 70 years old at this time, was one of the most powerful beings this world has ever seen. Rebelled and won against his father at 30, transformed the country from ruled by monarchs to people; became so frighteningly powerful so fast-he was someone everyone either hated or loved.

He had long, auburn hair that always dropped to his back, his bangs tied behind his head. His grey eye-the other was hidden from the world with an eyepatch- resembled a deadly storm. His look pierced through everything he directed it at. You would look and look again once he walked through the room because it would take a couple looks to understand the man before you. His tall figure and status aside, he seemed to have contradictions all over his body that attracted the eyes-to give an example, his face was beautiful. It was often enough to rival every woman-a kind of beauty you wouldn't normally see in a man.
But on the other hand, that beauty was nearly always shadowed by his clenched jaw, squinted eye and the build of a Marshal- you wouldn't even get to think about his looks because of how dangerous he looked. It still didn't change the fact that every person that had the glory to meet him was a little in love with him, but that was to he expected from a man that had pure strength running through his veins.

He was harsh, his footsteps would be heard from miles away, his dominance was unmatched. Everyone trembled before him as he raised his chin, everyone looked away once he set his eyes on something. He was deadly. He could spend anyone on his way if it meant his success. He could spend anyone who dared think different than him. He was danger, he was the insatiable hunger of destruction.

So, considering these, everyone was pretty shocked when they heard how loving the mighty, the emotionless, the deadliest Soviet was to his little son.

His maids and servants thought about it as a concussion, which would pass in about five days-it didn't. The day Russia was born, as told by Soviet, was the best day in his life. As he held him on his arms, caressed his hair, he had smiled without a darkness in his mind and heart, smiled sincerely for the first time.