Scars

(1940) Invasions, Love, and Bonding Time

Hey guys. It's been a while. While it's nearly the end of of marching season, fact remains that it's still not over, plus I have school. After this chapter, I probably won't post again for a while. I'll give it about two weeks. Maybe I can try to sneak a chapter in that timeframe, but no promises.

Also, I'm almost at a hundred views! Thank you to everyone who's taken time to read this story.

Anyways, on to the story.

February 9, 1940

Russia

Reich whistled to himself as he made his way to Soviet's abode, for a request. So far, the tides of the war seemed to be on his side. He'd bombed Britain's boats, and plans for future invasions were coming together. Imperial was doing well too. Italy, well...he needed to step up his game. He would not allow any weak countries to join the Axis alliance.

Soviet, however, was taking heavy losses from the Winter War. How a country that took up a third of an entire landmass was struggling against a tiny strip of a peninsula was beyond Reich. But this was good news to the German country. He allowed himself a devious smile, thinking of all the advantages having Soviet's land would give him.

He put up a professional demeanor as he approached the door, knocking on the wood. It was a few minutes before a worn-out Soviet answered. His eyes were heavy, his posture was slumped, and in one arm, he held an infant country. She was red, with a green stripe across the flag, already having the hammer and sickle.

Both the war and parenthood were taking their toll, it seemed. Reich could emphasize only if he had the capacity for it.

"Guten tag, Soviet," Reich greeted.

Soviet murmured something in Russian, then the newborn noticed the other country, and reached her chubby arms out.

"Another one? Who's this?" Even Reich thought that the communist nation just had too many children.

"Her name's Moldova," Soviet answered tiredly. "I already have a piece of land set aside for her."

Soviet stepped aside to allow Reich in. Reich went to the living room, to see it was fully occupied by Moldova's siblings. Every one of the satellite states shared a red color scheme and their father's symbol. The oldest had a blue stripe down his face, and fiery orange eyes. Reich guessed that he must be Russia.

Besides him, was a slightly younger female, also with a blue stripe, except it was across and at the bottom. Featherly ethereal wings curled around her body. Ukraine. Another teenage girl lay on her belly, reading a book. Her flag had a thinner blue line at the same place as her sister's. Golden wings sprouted from her back. Kazakhstan. The last country in the cluster was another girl who looked like she'd just come into her teens. Her design was very unique, a green stripe on the bottom, and a red-and-white diamond pattern on the side. Byelorussia.

Gathered around a table were a trio of countries. Two of them looked to be about the same age and had very similar designs. Twins then, Reich thought. The first was a male with a dark blue line. Armenia. The second, also a boy, had his line all the way down. Azerbaijan. The third, a female, had her emblem carved in the image of a blue sun, with a matching line on the top of her flag. Georgia.

The youngest of the siblings were in random parts of the room. A male toddler, Kyrgyzstan, explored the area, flapping his little wings. He had a thick blue line with a thin white stripe in the middle. A country with a white and green line, Tajikistan, fought with his brother, Turkmenistan, over a wooden block. The latter had two blue stripes. Finally, the last child, Uzbekistan, looked about two years old. She simply had a blue line bordered by white.