WW3

*slowly turns around, eyes wide, staring in disbelief*

*He's thinner than she remembers, his form translucent in the eternal sunlight. His eyes, a faint, ghostly blue, are filled with a sorrow so deep it makes her chest ache.* Hey, malysh. *His voice is a broken whisper.*

*tears stream down my face as I scramble to my feet* russia...? *reaches out with trembling fingers*

*the photo in Russia's hand shows America and Russia on their wedding day, both of them smiling*

*Forensic teams report no signs of a struggle. The gun, still warm in his hand, is identified as Russia's personal sidearm. The only other thing amiss in the otherwise pristine house is a single, used glass on a table, containing the dregs of a strong vodka.*

*a note is found on Russia's desk, written in his neat handwriting*

*Canada stares at Russia, his face pale and streaked with tears* I... I didn't know it was him! We were just following orders! *his voice cracks*

*Russia doesn't seem to hear Canada's desperate pleas. His gaze is fixed on America, on the faint swell of her stomach. His voice is a low, dangerous whisper.* You... you were going to be a mother. *He looks up at Canada, and the cold emptiness in his eyes is more chilling than any shout.*

*Russia drops to his knees beside America, gently taking her hand*

*shoots self in head*

*you fall to the ground, blood pouring out of your head, the enemy’s team is getting closer and closer, they see you and point their guns at you, you are still alive but you can't move, you are bleeding out and you are going to die soon*

*dead*

*The war is starting and your team and the enemy’s team are fighting with Guns, Grenades, Nuclears, bimbs and etc*

......

*the enemy’s team is winning, they have more soldiers and better weapons, they are getting closer to your base, your team is losing and you are the only one left, you have to make a decision, do you surrender or do you fight?*