**Novi Pazzar, Serbia**

A man looked up as a boot was once again shoved down into his face, forcing him to spit up more blood onto the hard, cold concrete floor. He rested in a prison chamber within Novi Pazzar, having been found to be apart of one of Serbia’s underground communist movements. His originally normal every-day clothes had been torn by his treatment at the hands of the Serbian soldier before him. His once neat and straight black hair was now messy. Dirt and blood covered his hands and face, as his green eyes looked up at the Serbian soldier before him, in a look that could only be described as that of a man who knew his death was near.

“Filthy communists, you will ruin the future of glorious Serbia.” said the soldier, in that same rough tone that was common of soldiers. He once again kicked down at the communist, forcing him to spit up more blood onto the floor, a small puddle forming around him. The communist finally gave up all resistance, as the soldier opened up the shackles that bound him. He fell unconscious from the shear amount of pain he had suffered, and his lack of energy. The soldier slung his limp body over his shoulder, dragging him to somewhere else.

*A few hours later…*

When the communist finally awoke he was instantly blinded by a light. Giving his eyes a minute to adjust he saw that he was outside after having been locked in the dark prison for so long. He pulled up for a minute, seeing that he was once again shackled, this time to a wooden pole. He was stood up on a wooden platform. Looking to his sides he could see a few of the men he had been conspiring with for so long. Standing before each of the strapped up communists was a soldier, with a officer overlooking the situation. A crowd had gathered and looked on in horror, some.

“Today we shall show you what we would do to those who dare touch a forsaken ideology such as communism! If communists take control it be the downfall of our glorious nation!” shouted the officer, gesturing to those who were tied up. Each of the soldiers loaded a single bullet into their rifles.

“Take aim!” shouted the officer once again. The soldiers lowered their weapons, aiming them at those who had been tied up. 

“Fire!”

The sounds of bullet fire cracked across the square of Novi Pazzar, as the blood of the communists streamed across the wooden platform and onto the ground. The crowd quickly turned away, all with mixed expressions. Some were genuinely loyal to the Serbian government, most however had expressions of horror as they feared they could be next. Regardless, it was obvious by that today’s execution that Serbia would not tolerate left-wing ideals in itself.

**Belgrade, Serbia**

Neven stood over his desk, a chessboard set out on it. He was a tall man, standing at 6ft. His hair was a brown color, with his eyes being light blue. His cheekbones angled down into his chin in a rough line, leaving him with a non-circular face. His outfit was simply a pair of blacks pants with a fancy black shirt. He moved one of the pieces across the board, specifically the white queen, next to a black pawn. As he did this a man stepped into the room and began watching, a bit curious as to what Neven was doing.

“...and with that Spain has made their move. It is your turn China.” spoke Neven in a soft-voice, almost as if he had only expected himself to hear it.

“Uh sir, are you alright?” commented the man who just entered. His face was ovular, with hair and eyes similar to Neven, almost being as tall as him as well. 

“I am fine Obrad, just using a chess game as a metaphor for world politics.” responded Neven, looking up at Obrad. Neven’s expression was just blank as he looked at Obrad.

“I have those reports you asked for, over production and manpower figures.” said Obrad, handing Neven a small stack of papers. Neven quickly flipped through them, before setting them down amongst the already large stacks of paper that had gathered on his desk.

“They seem fine… do me a favor and send a diplomat to Madrid. I would like to try to negotiate some deals with Spain. They could be a potentially valuable ally.” finished Neven.

“Yes sir, right away.” stated Obrad, leaving the office to do as Neven had told him to do.