Scars

Prologue (After WWI)

Hey guys! This is my first ever story. It took me eight months to write.

I decided to expose it to the outside world, where people aren't biased by virtue of being my family. Please let me know what you think! I would appreciate it!

June 28, 1919

Palace of Versailles, France

Inside the grand building built by King Louis XIV, a treaty signing was taking place. The Hall of Mirrors surrounded the delegates as they went over the terms.

But in another dimension, a mirroring of the events was occurring. There was still the palace and the Hall of Mirrors, but the people conducting the events weren't exactly people.

One was blue and red with the Union Jack symbol.

One had a red, white, and blue stripe running vertically down her face.

One had alternating red and white stripes, with a patch of blue with white stars.

One was green and red with a shield and crown symbol.

One had a red sun with rays coming out and spreading.

And all of them waited for one more presence.

In the hall, a red, white, and black country and a yellow, red, and black country were on their way towards the others. The former looked drained and pale. He tugged the hand of a smaller red country with a blank white circle.

They stopped in front of the door, and German Empire let out a tired sigh as he released the young Third Reich from his hold. "Bleib hier. Wir kommen für sie zurück." (Stay here. We'll come back for you.)

He and the Weimar Republic entered the room. Reich looked around the giant palace, marveling at the architecture. He suddenly thought he saw a shadow.

"Wer bist du? Zeige dich!" (Who are you? Show yourself!)

There was no response.

Reich looked around, deciding to investigate. He slowly walked up to where he'd seen the blur. "Come out. I won't hurt you."

"Ты обещаешь?" (You promise?)

The young country whipped around to the source of the voice, finding another country huddled in the corner. He was the same color as him, except his was brighter. A strange golden symbol was marked in front of his left eye. It looked like squiggles boxed around by a square. He had baggy orange eyes and tattered clothing, including a brown ushanka that was oversized. He was clearly older, but appeared to have not gone through puberty yet, given his scrawny stature and height.

Reich took a step back as the other country rose from his hiding spot and approached him. Noticing his apprehension, the latter gave a smile.

"Don't be scared. I'm the Russian Soviet Republic. But you can call me Soviet Russia. What's your name?"

"Th-Third Reich."

"Pад встрече." (Nice to meet you.)

There was a beat. "Why are you here?" Reich asked.

Soviet suddenly looked panicked. "Please don't tell anyone I'm here, okay? I'm hiding from my father. He just killed my siblings and I'm next!"

Tears came to his eyes. "Ukraine, Byelorussia, Transcauscasia. They're gone. There's still Alaska but he's under America's protection."

"But why would anyone do that?" Reich asked innocently.

"There's a civil war in my land right now. My father can't accept the fact that he's dead and so he's still around. I'm fighting to keep my place as a country."