Well, if he died right now, he would die happy. Poland strolled cheerily through Warsaw; it was like a giant garden! He paused to admire some particularily striking poppies, before hurrying further down the street, taking in the sights. The city was bustling with people, red and white flags flew all over the town. Life was a feeling, like a drug in his veins. This was the "Paris of the East."

He knew his country wasn't perfect, but they would work out the kinks. He glanced around at the people walking around him. They weren't concerned about Germany, yet. He was amassing power at a rather...alarming rate. Only recently had Czech been taken by him, and he worried he might be next.

He wasn't just being paranoid; considering he was right next to him, and Germany had only spent the last century or so trying to destroy him entirely. He continued to walk briskly, heading for one of the small air fields where young pilots were learning to fly. Their planes were old, left behind by the Germans and Russians in WWI, but there wasn't really much he could do about it. Their government did not have the money for new planes.

He was supposed to meet with England and France in an hour or so, but he had some time to watch the pilots practice. He was always fascinated by the planes, the way they soared above the ground when they seemed like they were too heavy to fly. It was like watching magic.

He sighed to himself, checking the time. He really should head back. The roar of engines vibrated in his chest, and he loathed leaving...but he had responsibilities. He turned back, heading for his home.

It was only twenty minutes after he arrived home that France and England showed up. They were already bickering, about something or other. England was tense, as was France. Poland couldn't blame them; they had gotten pretty badly hurt during the last war. France in particular.

He guided them over to the couch, settling down. The bickering stopped, and both countries looked at him gravely.

"I believe you asked us over here to discuss Germany?" England began, sipping from the cup of tea Poland had settled on the coffee table in front of him. Poland nodded quickly, crossing his legs.

"He's going to attack me; I need your help to remain independent. Will you be my allies?"

France pondered, sighing.

"Well...if we sign our names to some allyship with you...Germany will probably not attack..."

England nodded in agreement.

"We'll sign an alliance with you."

Poland paused a moment, tilting his head to one side.

"But...you will actually help me if he attacks, right?"

France and England nodded quickly.

"If he attacks, of course we'll help you." England replied. "But I doubt he will, if he thinks we'll attack him too."

Poland sighed, swallowing the last of his cup of coffee.

"All right then...I have things to get done. Like, you know, preparing an army."

England raised an eyebrow.

"What sort of technology do you have?"

"Hm?"

"Do you have any of the new war implements?"

"Um...I still have a great cavalry. And some planes...but they're very old."

"A cavalry? Do you seri-you know what? Never mind. We'll be seeing you, Poland." England stood, and France followed his lead, heading for the door. Poland quirked an eyebrow.

"But you didn't finish your-" England and France were already gone by this point. "...tea...oh well, I like tea..." Feliks poured himself another cup; he couldn't very well waste a good pot of tea...

Three hours later, when he'd repainted the entire house pink in a caffeinated frenzy, he'd think differently...