World War 2 (Thirdunion)

Chapter 1

“Guten Tag, USSR.”

“The Third Reich. To what do I owe this pleasure?” The Soviet Union greeted him somewhat tonelessly in English, his words coated nicely with a Russian accent. His voice was quiet, dignified, and his expression showed neither joy nor displeasure at Nazi’s visit, his face set only with calculation as he regarded Reich up and down. Nazi mimicked the USSR’s pose and crossed his arms as he gave him a leisurely once over as well, symbolising the fact that they were equally judgemental of each other. Nazi Germany considered himself to be average height while he had his heels on and yet The Soviet Union still had him beaten by a very considerable amount, which was something that Nazi remembered from the first time they had met years prior. That meeting had been no more than a terse greeting, barely addressing each other properly, but rather sizing each other up in terms of power instead. The height difference still irritated Reich now as much as it did back then.

The Soviet Union had the same bright scarlet hair as Nazi, though it was longer and brushed his shoulders when he moved his head. Most of the hair on his head was hidden by the black Ushanka he wore. He had a sharp but admittedly appealing facial structure and his golden eyes shone with clarity and mistrust. There was a small hammer and sickle beneath his right eye and a fading scar peeked out from beneath the black high neck of the top underneath his sage green military coat that went just past his knees. There a slight pink tinge across The Soviet Union’s cheeks, indicating that Nazi had indeed seen him take a swig of amber liquor from the glass on his desk as he walked in just before. For a second, neither country spoke as they thoroughly scrutinised each other. Nazi could recognise that the USSR had the upper hand, being the only one between them that was actually able to look down his nose at Nazi Germany without even trying. They locked eyes distastefully after a while and Nazi’s smile broadened so that he could hide the fact that he couldn’t tell what the Communist was thinking, which was something he could usually pick up on easily with anyone. The gesture was honestly more of a baring of teeth than anything else, but The Soviet Union was unfazed and did not return the gesture. He then said something smooth in Russian and the soldiers that accompanied Reich filed out of the room, closing the door behind them. Nazi’s intrigue swelled.

“How can you be sure you won’t need them?” Nazi jerked his head at the retreating men, ignoring Soviet’s earlier question of why Reich was here. The Soviet Union raised an eyebrow.

“I’m sure I could handle you myself, if you should choose to make an unwise decision.”

Nazi didn’t falter, even as the country continued, the accented voice rougher than it was initially. “What are you here for, Third Reich?”

“A negotiation,” Nazi answered easily, “a request for allegiance. I’m offering you a side to be on in the coming years.”

Those golden eyes were unyielding, waiting for Nazi to elaborate. “Ally yourself with me for the war that we all know is coming,” Nazi said, a pang of sick pride resonating in his chest as he said those words. He was obsessed with the idea of causing such destruction just as he planned to.

“Why should I?” Soviet used a flat tone that Nazi couldn’t read, his expression equally elusive. It was both alluring and frustrating.

“To secure a place with The Axis Powers in the beginning of a new world.”

“And you’re telling me that Communism fits into your Fascist ideals?” The Soviet Union’s eyes flicked from Nazi to the map on his desk. It was a depiction of Europe, but there were confusing Russian letters over each country. Reich was starting to think that maybe he should have learnt at least a bit of Russian, just so that he could pick up on a few details around the headquarters. Nazi’s keen desire to persuade the stoic country kicked in; Soviet wasn’t outright denying him, which was an incredibly promising sign.