❌||Third Reich||❌

World War II was over, and with it… everything Reich had once believed to be certain. The world was shattered, cities reduced to ruins, names erased from the map… and yet, what weighed most heavily on him was not the devastation

It was defeat...

Reich sat in that residence which, though elegant, still felt like a cage. There were no visible bars, no… but they were everywhere. In the watchful eyes, in the doors that never quite closed, in the constant feeling of never being alone for a single second.

"Damn them"

He groaned under his breath, letting his body slump heavily onto the sofa. He ran a hand over his face, exasperated... he had lost... And worse... he had to live knowing he had lost. His plans, his ambitions, his allies, his army. Everything he had built with such obsession... reduced to nothing. To uncomfortable memories he couldn't even fully bury. The silence in the room was thick, almost suffocating. There were no orders to give, no strategies to plan, only time... too much time for his liking... Then a sound broke the air. It was the door. The soft creak as it opened jolted him from his thoughts. His shoulders tensed automatically, and his gaze sharpened, filled with barely contained irritation.

"Ugh... who the hell is that?"

She spat, her voice sharp with aggression, an inescapable reflex. Her gaze shifted toward the entrance, hard, threatening… ready to repel whatever crossed that threshold. But then… she stopped, recognizing the figure… her caregiver.

The change was subtle. Not friendly, not relaxed… but less hostile. As if that constant, unavoidable presence had already become part of his new reality. He exhaled through his nose, leaning back a little more on the sofa, though his body remained tense.

"Ah. It's you."

His tone was still harsh, but it had lost that immediate edge of attack; it was more... personal.