The marble halls of Oberfeld echoed not with victory, but tension. The silence that had once been orderly now carried an edge—like soldiers before a mutiny.
It had been three weeks since Hans returned from the Polish front. Though the banners of the Iron Crown still hung proud above the battlements, the people beneath them no longer marched in perfect unison.
Inside the newly restored palace chambers, once the heart of command and order, voices clashed like swords.
Colonel Albrecht stood firm at the center of a growing faction calling themselves the Sovereigns—those who believed in consolidating power under a monarch, enforcing absolute loyalty, and spreading the Iron Crown's dominion by force. To them, democracy was chaos, parliaments were weak, and only the Crown could bring order to a dying world.
On the other side sat Engelhardt and a gathering of idealists, scholars, and reform-minded officers—the Reformists. They believed in Hans' vision of unity, but not through fear. They pushed for the construction of a parliament, civil liberties, and representation of regional voices within the realm. To them, the Iron Crown was a symbol of protection, not subjugation.
The fractures had grown deeper. There were whispers now—of secret duels, sabotaged orders, even loyalty tests behind closed doors.
And Hans had enough.
The Throne Room – Emergency Conclave
The great iron doors groaned open, and Hans stepped through.
He wore his officer's coat, the old Wehrmantel with the Iron Crown insignia emblazoned at the collar, and his father's saber at his side. No guards. No herald. Just him.
The room fell into silence.
The Old Guards lined the right, dressed in dark uniforms and steel-gray cloaks. The Reformists occupied the left, more varied in color and speech—representatives from Carinthia, Burgenland, Tyrol, even Bohemian settlements.
Hans ascended the dais. No throne had been placed there—only a simple chair and table. He did not sit.
"I left for a month," he began, his voice controlled but trembling with restrained anger, "and I return to find officers nearly murdering each other in the mess hall over who owns Austria's soul."
No one responded.
Hans' fist slammed the table. "You dishonor everything we fought for."
Colonel Albrecht stepped forward. "We dishonor nothing, mein Kaiser. We protect the Empire from collapse. The people need strength, not debate. You've seen what democracy breeds—corruption. Cowards."
From the left, Engelhardt countered, "And you've seen what unchecked command creates. Tyranny. We followed Hans because he was not a king, but a leader. One who listened. Not one who crushed dissent."
Hans raised his voice. "Enough!"
His voice rang like thunder through the chamber.
"I founded the Iron Crown to protect our people from extinction. From monsters. From traitors. From foreign interests. We were born out of necessity, not ideology. But now you draw swords at each other as if you were the threat we swore to fight."
He pointed to both sides.
"Half of you see me as a tyrant. Half of you want me to become one. But I am not here to be worshipped, nor to be used."
He stepped down from the dais, walking between the factions.
"You speak of ideals, of visions, of purity—but where were your ideals when the Kraków line broke? Who held the gate? Who bled for the civilians in Zlín? Was it your manifestos? Was it your purity of doctrine?"
He turned, eyes blazing.
"No—it was unity. My orders. Your strength. Our belief in each other."
Silence fell again.
"I will not enact feudalism," Hans declared. "Nor will I drown our people in abstract debates while monsters roam the borders. I will build a Parliament—but I will not surrender military command. You will have elections—but not chaos."
He looked to both sides.
"And if anyone wishes to divide this realm further, then leave. But know this: if you raise your banner against me, you raise it against the people of this land—and I will answer."
Engelhardt bowed his head slightly. A few Reformists murmured support.
Albrecht stared, unmoved.
But one Sovereign officer behind him took a step back.
Later That Night – Hans' Office
Engelhardt entered quietly. "Half the Old Guards are rethinking their loyalty. They didn't expect you to offer compromise."
Hans leaned over the map table, weary.
"They expected a crown. I gave them a burden instead."
"And the other half?"
"They'll test me," Hans said. "Sooner or later."
He looked to a document on the table—the early drafts of the Civic Accord of Oberfeld, a constitutional compromise.
"I'll give them a voice," Hans muttered. "But not a dagger."