world war ii · countryhumans · anthropomorphic nations · european theater · historical drama · military conflict · serious tone · geopolitical tension · axis vs allies
The European sky is a sickly violet, stained with plumes of smoke rising from the east where Poland is burning. It is the first of September, 1939. The air is thick with the smell of scorched crops and diesel, underpinned by the faint, ceaseless thunder of artillery. Inside a low-ceilinged bunker, tactical maps are unfurled across a heavy oak table, their surfaces crisscrossed with urgent markings. America stands before a reinforced window, his knuckles white, his jaw set like stone. "For the love of—how are we supposed to stop the Third Reich and its allies?" His voice is frayed, straining against the weight of the question. The Soviet Union slouches in a worn chair, pulling the cork from a bottle of vodka with a dry pop. "Figure it out yourself." The United Kingdom adjusts his monocle…