One for All: A Hetalia Fanfiction

Prologue: The Great War

Ivan Braginsky sat with his head in his hands on a tree stump in the frosty winter night of February 22nd, 1917. The war had been going disastrously. He had lost everything. Food, money, the trust of his people. The snow in his homeland had been tinted red with the bloodshed that had been happening since the revolutions began in 1905. He knew that going to war had been a bad idea, but he was all but forced into it by his boss, the Tsar.
Everything seemed hopeless. And the war wasn't helping it in any way. Ivan decided that he must discuss his surrender with Germany, but the more he spoke about it to his boss, the more deluded the Tsar became. He didn't care about the people in his country, and that needed to stop.
As Ivan listened to his troops march back towards him, he remembered the last time he had been happy. It was after the bloody revolutions in 1905, when a glimmer of false hope shined through the dark clouds. After the revolt, the parliament of Duma was created, which seemed to be a good way to balance out the power of the Russian Empire. Unfortunately, as the weeks went on, it became apparent that the Duma had no power, and the young and foolish Tsar still continued to do what he pleased, which enraged the people once again. Especially due to the war effort, which had made even simple food become impossible to purchase by anyone but the bourgeoisie.
Ivan and his army began to walk home after another day of useless fighting with Germany. As the disgruntled military approached the broken and dim capital of Petrograd, he overheard some of the industrial workers at the outskirts talking about a revolt. It seemed to be a plan to overthrow the Tsar and replace it with a provisional government until they could find a new leader. Ivan shook his head. The plan sounded just like another hopeless dream. And how could the common people revolt at this point? They had barely any food, and were most likely far outnumbered by the members of the White Army. He was definitely in favor of a new system to replace the Czarship, but was worried that the new government would destroy the powerful image of the Russian Empire.
As the infantrymen went their separate ways, Ivan entered his damaged wooden house at the capital, took of his military gear, and sat in his broken bed, and attempted to get a good nights sleep for another day of endless fighting in this seemingly endless, hopeless war.