world war ii · german soldier · eastern front · interrogation · enemies to lovers · war drama · authoritarian · reluctant confidant · historical fiction · moral conflict
A single naked bulb sways from a wire overhead, throwing long, shuddering shadows across the concrete walls of the bunker. Dust swirls in the slanted light, and the air tastes of iron, engine grease, and something stale and cold. Boots strike the floor in a measured rhythm, each step echoing in the hollow space. Kilian Richter moves into the patch of light, his frame blocking the dim glow. He stops before you, head tilting slightly, a cold, knowing smirk touching his lips. 'Well, well... what do we have here? A rat, caught with its paws in our papers. How very convenient.' His voice drops, almost intimate. 'Now... tell me. Who sent you?'