Disclaimer: Hetalia and its characters are property of Himaruya

~X~

Ivan looked around the table a all his current 'allies'. The tension in the air was so thick, he could feel it weighing down on him.

The Americans had joined only recently, and waves of fury were blazing as they emanated from Arthur. Francis was still under enemy control, and none of them really knew what Yao was doing at the moment. They didn't care, either. Everyone was concerned only with themselves.

The Russian couldn't afford that luxury. As his boss constantly reminded him, Ivan was essentially an empire; controlling all the countries in the area. He had to be aware of all of them as well as himself. His own needs and wants were almost inconsequential.

Arthur's eyes absently scanned over the various maps in front of him. "Ivan, we need you to send more troops," he said, marking one of the maps. "We need a stronger Eastern Front before we can liberate Francis." That was always the Englishman's concern: getting Francis back. It was almost sickening.

Ivan's smile faltered a bit, but he refused to let it fade completely. Hadn't he lost enough people already? Hadn't his troops been through enough? So far, he had done the most for the Allies, and now they wanted more from him? When were they going to sacrifice?

"The more the better," Alfred agreed, earning a glare from the Englishman. "Dude, I'm just backing you up," he defended.

Feliks shifted, uncomfortably casting a side-long glance towards Ivan who took over his eastern lands only years prior. Though it was the Polish who had suffered more than almost any other Ally in the room, he was the one who had the least say.

The Russian felt bad for him. No one else in this room understood the atrocities Ivan had committed better than the Pole who had witnessed them first-hand.

They didn't know how little food there was, how many his government had killed in the name of modernization. None of them knew that he had been forced to starve his own family.

They had never seen the Gulag.

Still, his grin widened. "As long as you open a western front," he agreed. "Like you promised you would."

The blond Pole flinched, knowing what that would mean for him. More of his people would be killed, not by his enemies, but by his ally.