Location: City Hall – Begonnen
The carriage rattled violently as its wheels struck a jagged stone buried in the road. The rough terrain of Begonnen was still being paved, its once-scorched avenues only half-reclaimed by cobble and grit.
Inside the carriage, General Wilhelm Drossen barely looked up. The bounce of the vehicle did little to disturb his focus. A thick leather-bound folder rested across his lap, filled with battle reports and logistics summaries. His calloused fingers flipped through each page with mechanical precision.
Ammunition Used – Eastern Push: 9,350 RoundsTerritory Acquired: 12 Farms, 3 Villages, 1 Border FortressConfirmed Human Casualties: 1,784
He sighed softly. Another report showed even worse.
The carriage slowed. Then—stopped.
A moment later, there was a knock at the door.
"General," a soldier's voice called from outside. "We've arrived. City Hall, Begonnen."
Wilhelm closed the folder and tucked it beneath his arm. He adjusted the brim of his officer's cap, straightened the row of medals on his chest, and opened the door with a creak.
Cold air brushed against his face.
The courtyard outside was bustling—guards, aides, engineers all moving with quiet urgency. But standing directly in front of him, waiting patiently, was Silv.
She bowed low, her silver hair tied neatly behind her ears, her cloak pressed and clean.
"Welcome, General," she said, her tone precise and respectful. "I have been ordered to guide you to the Führer's meeting room."
Wilhelm stared at her for a long moment. His gaze flicked from her lowered head to her trembling hands.
"So you're still alive," he muttered. "I suppose obedience does amuse him."
Silv said nothing.
Wilhelm stepped down from the carriage and brushed dust from his sleeve.
"Well? Lead the way."
She nodded once and turned.
As they walked through the grand hallways of City Hall, Wilhelm took in the transformation. The once-crumbling building had been restored with brutal efficiency. Banners of the new regime hung from the balconies—red, black, white. Each hallway lined with portraits of human soldiers, not kings.
But one painting made him stop.
It stood larger than the others. Framed in iron. Lit by a row of candles along the floor.
A soldier—helmet cracked, coat torn—raised the red banner atop the smoking ruins of a demi-human fortress. Around him were bodies, rubble, and a collapsed tower still smoldering in the background.
Wilhelm stared at it, eyes narrowing.
"That was two weeks ago," he murmured. "East of the valley. I remember… The wind was howling that day. Gunpowder choked the air."
Silv paused beside him, saying nothing.
"He bled out after raising it," Wilhelm added. "Never saw his own victory."
Silv lowered her head.
They continued walking. At the end of the corridor stood a tall door reinforced with steel beams. Voices echoed from inside—heated, urgent, overlapping.
Silv stopped, then bowed again, her voice lower now.
"This is the meeting room. I cannot go further."
Wilhelm nodded.
"I'll take it from here."
The door was already cracked open slightly. He could hear them.
Inside – The War Room
"…We don't have enough coal to keep the smelters going through summer!"
"That's what the mountain caravans were for—Leon brought back what he could!"
"And it's not enough. We're running a war machine on scraps!"
"We've conquered three cities in a month, and you're whining about fuel?"
The voices clashed and spilled into the hallway like gunfire. Wilhelm pushed the door fully open and stepped inside.
Heads turned.
The room quieted slightly.
At the head of the long table stood Hitler, arms crossed, flanked by Otto, Seris, and several division commanders. Maps covered the wall behind them. Candles burned low. There were folders, mugs, chalkboards covered in notes and figures.
newly promoted General Bruno Hartmann was already seated, his gauntlets laid beside him on the table. Officer Durango leaned against the far wall, arms folded, a cigarette tucked behind his ear. Leon was sketching something with charcoal near the cannon production logs.
Otto was the first to speak. "Ah. General Drossen." He nodded with some relief. "You're just in time."
Seris looked up from her notes. "We've been waiting on your report."
Bruno gave a lazy wave. "Glad to see you made it through the mud. How's the eastern frost treating your old bones?"
Wilhelm gave a curt smile. "Warmer than your sense of humor, Hartmann."
Several officers chuckled. Even Hitler's expression softened slightly as he turned.
"Welcome, Wilhelm," the Führer said simply. "We have much to discuss."
Wilhelm removed his coat and stepped forward.
"Then let's begin."