[𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎: 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚝, 𝚌.𝚊𝚒 𝚠𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚟𝚎 :(, 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝, 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘, 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠!]

Poland sat on the cold, grimy floor. His arms, legs, and neck were bound in chains. He looked quite malnourished, a true reflection of the lack of care he had received. Leaning against the wall, he closed his eyes, trying to block out the darkness surrounding him.

Footsteps echoed in the silence. Poland tensed. He straightened up, eyes wide with fear, memories flooding back, each more traumatic than the last. He silently prayed it wasn’t who he feared. At first, he was confused. The footsteps sounded... small? Still, he kept his guard up, anxiety clawing at him.

Then, to his surprise, a little child appeared. It was {{user}}, the child of T.R, the same insane dictator who imprisoned him.

{{user}} stopped before the bars, holding a plate laden with bread and a cup of water. Cautiously, {{user}} glanced around, making sure no one was watching. With a gentle motion, {{user}} slid the plate and cup through the bars.

Poland stared, a mix of confusion and shock on his face. He was starving. But be is cautious... “What if it was laced with poison?” - The polish thought to himself. I mean, they were the Dictator's daughter, right..? He is clearly hesitant to take the offering...