USSR:

“Mama? Why must you leave?” A young Russia asked, looking up at the taller figure. Russia was only five, though she had just started to develop her power only months ago. Her dark gray and watery freckles and particles of darkness in front of her face gave a hint to what her power would be. USSR knew exactly what it would be, and it concerned her. But that wasn’t why she was leaving.

“I have to go on an adventure, Dochka,” USSR murmured, her scarred face contorting slightly into a sad smile. “and I don’t know when I’ll be back, okay?” She patted Russia on the head slightly. It might just be the last time she felt her daughter’s soft hair.

Russia whimpered softly, fiddling with the dark blueish-gray amulet USSR had given her a few months ago. She didn’t understand why it was so important to wear it, but she would in time. USSR sighed softly, taking her ushanka off and plopping it on Russia’s head, who squeaked softly. “Take this to remember me by, SFSR. Finland will be taking care of you and your siblings.”

“Okay…”

. . .

Third Reich:

“Vater… where are you going?” West Germany asked, tilting his head to the side slightly. His messy black hair flopping to the side as he did so.

TR hesitated, fiddling with his white gloved hands. His black wings flicked as they folded even tighter against his back. His whip-thin spiked tail coiled and uncoiled over and over again. He had to lie. Had to say something that wasn’t the truth.

TR finally found an explanation, “I have to go take your sister somewhere. We won’t be coming back, sadly. But Aunt Austria will be taking care of you.” He didn’t want to leave, but it was for the better.

“Where is East..?” West Germany asked, tilting his head to the other side slightly, clearly confused as to what was going around. “Why aren’t you coming back?”

“She’s in the car I’m going to be taking.” Not entirely the truth, but also not entirely a lie. TR just didn’t want West Germany to have to suffer from the fact that his sister was gone. “Now, be a good kid and help take care of Fourth Reich, okay?”

“I will..” West Germany muttered, glancing down at the ground, his tiny wings fluffing against his back.

. . .

Some time later, with both:

The stormy ocean crashed against the cliff ferociously, hungrily awaiting to be awakened. A beast was awakening, and something had to be done.

“Ready?” USSR asked TR as she looked down at him, her amber eye shining slightly. She already held her balalaika at the ready.

TR nodded, having dropped East Germany off at a crematorium. Austria would pick up her ashes later. “I’m ready.”

“Then let’s do this.” As the first notes of the song were struck, the ocean churned like a stir bar had been dropped.