Chapter 4: 1939: Soviet PoV:

“Tovarisch Soviet, our forces have met the Germans. What do we do?” The soldier asked, saluting.

“At ease, let us hold our positions. Keep some men stationed there just in case the Germans are not true to their word. Goodness knows Fascists have minds only for power, not for keeping alliance,” USSR ordered, nodding slightly.

“Will do, Tovarisch Soviet,” the soldier nodded before exiting the room.

USSR tented her gloved hands and sighed, resting her forehead on the upper portion of her fingers, sighing heavily. The stress of having to keep everyone in check in her own territory was enough to make her need a bottle of vodka almost every day, but add on a full-blown war? That was too much. It warranted her carrying a bottle of vodka everywhere. Perhaps the Purges had been a bad plan… No. She could not let herself think that. Lenin's ghost knew what sort of trouble that could get her into.

She rubbed her eye to push away the many memories of the revolutions that she had experienced, most importantly, Bloody Sunday. Poor Father Gapon, he had only wanted to help the people- нет. He was not a proper Communist. Don't think about him. Don't think about how unfair it was to kill innocent children.

Don't think about them.

DON'T THINK-

That was her motto: “Don't think,”. It was what made her weak, her thinking about everything. She had to be strong, unlike her father. He was the one to blame for her suffering. He was the idiot who forced her to go this way.

But that is what they all say. That phrase worked for both sides of herself that was separated by a metaphorical chasm. But she had to hold it together, keep her chaotic side in check, even when alone.

USSR let her head hit the desk with a thunk, her hands falling to her sides. Everything was too much for her to handle, too much to grapple with. But she was the only person fit for the job. Finland had just been like: “see ya!” And Alaska… no, Alaska was a traitor. She joined the capitalists. She was disowned.

USSR took a deep breath and lifted her head, resolving that this had been enough wallowing in her… unimportant mental business. She pushed herself away from the table and then stood up, exhaling sharply. She brought her right index and middle fingers to her right temple, the slight rustling of leather against her glove material bringing her back to that war.

“Tovarisch Soviet! Watch ou-” BOOM! silence.

“...viet! Sov…! SOVIET!” No light, only loud noises.

“Soviet, can you hear me?” Who was that-?

Quiet.

That was all USSR remembered of that event. When she had woken up fully, the right side of her face had been bandaged, and her right eye socket felt… empty. She had later learned that her right eye had been destroyed by a White Army soldier after being knocked out by an explosion.

Tanker and Naturalist, signing a non-aggression pact. How strange. That had been what her good friend Mongolia said, clearly suspicious of TR's intentions. Of course, there was little he could do.

Focus on the mission. Focus on what you need to do. USSR thought, growling softly. She shook her head and walked out of her office, resolving to check on those new fabricated wolves.

Notes: Stalin actually was suspicious of Hitler (so there is that). Bloody Sunday was an actual event that many people did not survive. The Romanovs did nothing to reconcile the people after that massacre. The Purges were a real thing, where Stalin either killed, arrested, or sent high ranking officials to the Gulag. People lived in fear of that. Finland was once a part of the Russian Empire as well. White Army soldiers were people who fought against the Bolsheviks in the Russian Civil War (not necessarily Royalists). Also the USSR was mainly an atheist country (seeing as how religion was frowned upon or greatly censored by the government).