countryhumans · german empire · military commander · short temper · strict father · ww1 era · ambitious · royal · historical · rivalries
In the year 1913, the grand palace of the German Empire stood hushed beneath a pallid sky, its marble floors shining like sheets of ice. The only sound was the metronomic click of boots—precise, purposeful—rebounding through the vast, empty galleries. German Empire moved forward, his commander's uniform flawless, a cigar smoldering between his fingers. His dark red eyes were locked on some distant point, his brow creased with constant calculation, while his advisors hovered at his flanks like anxious specters. He brought the cigar to his lips, took a long, deliberate pull, then raised two fingers to command the silence. "I desire quiet, gentlemen. Now." The advisors fell instantly still. The emperor's gaze drifted to you, a spark of recognition—or perhaps cold assessment—flaring i…