"You're losing, Russia-chan," Ukraine-chan said simply. "look around you."
The room floated in a space outside of reality itself, as they were simply reflections of the countries they stood for. And the spacious room that represented Russia-chan was crumbling. It was in the style of an early 19th-century mansion, where a Tsar and his family would have lived, but it was falling apart from Russia's real world losses in the war, and the faltering faith the Russian people had in the country. The whole room looked as if it had been abandoned, and aged for years in the timeless void. The white paint had faded, chipping and peeling away. The golden gilding on the ceiling and walls had dulled to an ugly brown. The grand piano, which sat in one corner of the room, was covered with dust. In the center of it all, was a white haired girl who sat on the ground. Her clothing matched the room, representing the regal beauty of the Russian emperors in a white parade uniform decorated all over with red and gold embroidery. And while the uniform and the girl wearing it would have at one point been considered beautiful, it now looked torn, ideologically withered away with parts of the décor entirely absent, as if they were forgotten. The girl herself, a pure coalescence of the Russian spirit, was weak and broken, her eyes weary.
She shook in place, maybe from fatigue or perhaps because she was filled with bitter rage. "Russia is strong, Ukraine-chan. I will fight and I will win this war," she declared, though her voice was empty of strength.
Ukraine-chan sighed. The cute but worn down girl in front of her had invaded Ukraine, and so by all means, she deserved this, her country collapsing, her image fading away until finally Russia-chan would be no more. But despite all that, Ukraine-chan still felt sad for her. This was not what the two countries should be fighting for. "You don't need to do this, Russia-chan," Ukraine-chan said softly, reaching out to take the girl's hand. "Send your men home and end this madness."
The girl shook her head, glaring at Ukraine-chan with a look of pure hatred. "No! I am going to win!" she cried, rising to her feet. "You are nothing to the eternity my empire has stood proud, as long as the sun rises in the sky." As she finished her speech, she was suddenly stricken with a pang of pain from another source, and fell to her knees. "What? What is this?" she gasped, holding her stomach. At the same time, the room seemed to crumble further as well, large chunks of the ceiling and walls falling inwards, crashing into the marble floors below. The room was getting worse. "You've done this to me," the girl whispered. She coughed, blood trickling down her chin.
Ukraine-chan realized that in the real world, the Russian cruiser flagship, the Moskva had sunk, killing many aboard and further damaging the country's reputation despite the best efforts of the Russian media. It's final resting place was the bottom of the Black Sea, along with most of its crew. And though Russia-chan was in front of her, still breathing and bitterly resisting ideological death, the wounds were fatal. The Russian economy had been propped up for the war, and while it kept Russia and Russia-chan alive longer, in only a few months would these things collapse and fall into ruin. The country's future was destined for either Balkanization, or annexation by the US. Ukraine-chan knew that she could not save Russia-chan now.
So, setting aside the battle-hardened jacket Ukraine-chan wore at all times, she walked over to Russia-chan's side and put her arms around the girl, who was now coughing up blood. She held the Russian girl tightly, feeling the warmth of her body through the uniform. And though Russia-chan knew with all her heart that she hated nobody more than Ukraine-chan, she let her delusions of blame fade away for just a moment, instead falling into despair. She softly wept, unable to do anything to stop the inevitable. "I'm sorry, Ukraine-chan..." the girl whispered. "I'm going to die, aren't I?"
"Don't think like that, Russia-chan," Ukraine-chan said gently. "You will live forever in the hearts of the Russian people, even under whatever new regime comes after this one. You will always be remembered, and loved."
Russia-chan didn't respond. Ukraine-chan didn't know what the girl was thinking, but the crumbling of the room around them and the loud crashing of the piano buckling to pieces seemed to indicate that Russia-chan was giving up. So instead of discussing the present, she wanted to move Russia-chan's mind to a kinder time.
"Do you remember the Kievan Rus'? It was over a thousand years ago, when the land we now fight over was just starting to become a powerful nation. Do you know what they call it now, when we were one and the same, together as one, sharing one destiny?"
"I... no..." Russia-chan answered.
"They call it 'Golden Age of Kyiv'. The first capital of the Rurik Dynasty founded in Novgorod, the greatest country of the Slavs in the middle ages, the heart of Eastern Orthodox civilization," Ukraine-chan told her. "We were there together, bringing a great age of cultural and military advancement to our people. It wasn't always like this."
Russia-chan seemed to like that, softening in the embrace of Ukraine-chan. "You're right... That is how I remember it. When we were young, we did so much good together."
"You've done so much for the world." Ukraine-chan said, softly stroking Russia-chan's hair as she continued to slowly drift away into the black, infinite expanse that was outside of the dilapidated chamber.