Bratislava, Slovakia – Two Days After Brno
Rain poured over the Danube, washing blood and smoke through the city's alleys. From atop the old castle walls of Bratislava, anti-air guns barked into the night sky, cutting down the last of the rebel drones. Below, tank divisions rolled through shattered streets, their hulls burning with the banners of the Engelhardt-Austrian Empire.
But the city wasn't yet free.
It was screaming.
Field HQ – Suburb of Devínska Nová Ves
Hans Ehrenfeld Adler stood beneath a drenched canopy, his uniform soaked, his saber red with fight. A map lay pinned to the wet table—drawn over and over with desperate arrows.
Engelhardt limped up, bruised, his greatcoat torn.
"They've got a fortress inside the train tunnels. Not local militia—Karling's Black Vultures. Full awakeneds."
Hans narrowed his eyes.
"We cleanse them. Today."
Eliska entered moments later, soaked but unshaken.
"I made contact with the Slovak resistance cell inside the Parliament building. They'll rise the moment we breach the tunnels."
Hans turned, his voice low.
"Then we'll give them their signal."
He raised his hand—and summoned the 13th Oberfeld Assault Battalion directly into the rain. Their rifles gleamed like lightning. Behind him, Engelhardt summoned his Anchor again, its fists cracking as it emerged.
"Engelhardt," Hans said, "Ready a breach."
"Already done."
Battle of the Underground Fortress
They descended into the dark. Rebel forces waited within—the Vultures, masked and tattooed, wielding powers stolen from fallen awakeneds. One split open the earth beneath Engelhardt's projection. Another hurled spectral blades.
But Hans was faster.
"Squad Valkyrie—left tunnel! Shield corps, advance with me!"
Lightning tore through the subway. The Phantom Corps advanced behind shield glyphs, forcing the rebels back. Engelhardt unleashed a war cry and crashed into the central chamber like a thunderbolt, his Anchor smashing through makeshift bunkers.
And then it appeared—
A rebel commander—one of Karling's inner circle—stepped forward, his veins pulsing with dark energy.
"You don't deserve this land, Hans. You stole it with ghosts and myths."
"No," Hans replied, raising his hand, "I remembered it."
His next summon was something new: a fusion technique drawn from battle memory—
"Ancestral Fusion – Legion of the River Kings!"
From his sigil burst three ghostly monarchs—ancient rulers of Slovakia and Bohemia—merged into one giant form. The rebel screamed as the figure brought down a spectral halberd, splitting the chamber apart.
Slovakia Rises
By dawn, the rebel fortress lay in flames.
Slovak partisans hoisted the imperial banner over the Parliament.
Hans stood before the cheering crowds as Eliska took the podium beside him, speaking in Slovak:
"From this day, Bratislava is free. The chains of Karling are broken. Your nation stands as part of the Ehrenfeld-Austrian Empire—not conquered, but reborn."
The people chanted Hans's name.
But he did not smile.
"There's still Karling. Still the Balkans. Still blood ahead."
Elsewhere…
In Geneva, the Coalition Security Council met in secret session.In Istanbul, the Turkish Chancellor demanded answers.In Washington, drones circled.
And in a bunker deep within the Julian Alps, Karling watched, teeth grinding.
"He's forcing history to love him."
"Shall we begin the final phase, my lord?" asked a cloaked officer.
Karling smiled darkly.
"Yes. Let's see if the world follows him… into Hell."