"What are you doing?" the man next to Mervin asked as Mervin stood up.
Mervin glanced back for a split second before quickly averting his eyes. A loud murmur swept through the hall as members turned and rose to their feet.
Even Goebbels and Hess, sitting in the front row, looked back at the large group leaving the hall. Hess squinted, trying to make sense of it.
"Is this a protest?" Goebbels asked venomously, anger thick in his voice.
"A protest," Hess repeated, shaking his head frantically. "For what?"
"How should I know?" Goebbels replied, adjusting his collar. "The Führer will be furious when he arrives."
Hess said nothing. He suddenly rose as well and pushed past other members.
"Excuse me."
He cleared his throat as a member stepped aside, giving him a confused look. Yet Hess only quickened his pace, trying to catch up with the departing group amid the shouts and chaos.
The first individuals had already reached the massive door. Hess' eyes widened, someone was opening it from the outside.
He froze.
A leather glove appeared in the doorway, followed by a coat, and then a partially visible face beneath a hat. More men dressed the same way poured in, parting to the sides evenly. Submachine guns hung at their sides, still lowered.
Mervin glanced back and met Hess' eyes in the middle of the stairs, then turned quickly toward the door, passing the Gestapo men. One of them crossed out names on a list.
"What is this!" a member of the NSDAP shouted at the men. There was no answer. Chaos erupted as others tried to reach the door. At the forefront was Hess.
"Mervin! Mervin!" he yelled, seeing only the back of the man before he disappeared behind the half-open door.
"Fuck," Hess muttered, almost running.
Then he stopped abruptly, frozen. His eyes widened in terror. Slowly, he raised his head from the gaping hole shot into the floor. The hall went silent, a tense, eerie stillness settling over the room. Slowly, the man who had fired lowered his hat to reveal his face.
"Gentlemen," he said loudly.
"Heydrich," Hess spat.
Heydrich looked at him with disdain before continuing.
"A terrible attack has just occurred on our state. I must ask you to remain inside and take your seats," he said, standing firmly near the doorway. Behind him, two Gestapo men slowly closed the heavy door. A loud clack echoed as they parted to either side.
The top floor of the hall was now lined with Gestapo men, standing every two meters in a half-circle.
Heydrich remained in the center, hands behind his back, a faint smile on his lips as he subtly winked Hess away.
Hess clenched his teeth, retreating slowly, his gaze growing distant. Then, from the opposite side of the room, a single door creaked open.
"Is it the Führer?" Goebbels asked as Hess stood beside him again.
"Perh..." Hess stopped.
His eyes swept over the black leather boots, gray pants, black belt, and black leather coat. The greenish-gray General uniform bore an Iron Cross at the collar. Black hair and piercing blue eyes framed a sharp, horrifyingly confident smile.
"Jaeger," Hess whispered, distant and uncomprehending, eyes wide with realization. A low murmur spread across the hundreds of parliament members.
"Where is the Führer!" the bearded man shouted, pointing at Paul.
Paul advanced slowly, flanked by a handful of soldiers. Shouts rose around him as he made his way to the microphone, a piece of paper clutched in his left hand.
"This noise."
"Demeans you all."
The hall grew silent once again as every eye turned toward Paul.
"You ask and ask. Yet you never respond. Never to their cries. Never to their pleas. All of you remained passive. Many of you may not know what I am talking about, but it does not matter."
"Now, it is me who responds. Me who answers. And I have this answer for you."
Paul stopped, scanning the rows. His gaze met Hess, who was already sweating profusely.
"The Führer," he began. The eyes of the crowd were expectant. Paul's voice dropped suddenly, carrying a chilling, lethal weight.
"Is dead," he said coldly, as if stealing the very air from the hall.
Paul stepped back for a moment, and the row of soldiers behind him tensed.
"At the moment of his death, our beloved Führer proclaimed ME as his successor, as this document proves!" Paul suddenly shouted. He held the paper high above his head, the crimson signature gleaming in the lights.
"LIE!" Goebbels shouted. Chaos erupted. Papers flew through the rows while shouts collided and overlapped.
"LIE!"
"LIE!"
Paul met Heydrich's expectant eyes and gave a subtle nod. Heydrich returned the gesture, then raised his submachine gun. The gunfire echoed through the room, snapping attention away from everything else.
The bearded man, one of the most frivolous and temperamental members, froze mid-step as bullets tore through him. Disbelief filled his eyes before blood spurted from his mouth and his body collapsed to the ground with a single sound.
Goebbels and Hess looked at each other. Hess slowly turned back toward Paul.
"LIE!" he shouted, defiance raw in his voice.
Paul sighed, stepping back to the microphone.
"A lie, Hess?" he asked, his voice echoing menacingly through the hall.
"YES," Hess answered, his eyes tilting to the side like a cornered animal, watching Heydrich and the other Gestapo men at the far end of the room.
Suddenly, a loud laughter erupted, cold and predatory. Hess felt it, like prey sensing a hunter closing in.
"Of course. Of course it is," Paul said, amusement still evident in his voice. "Yes, it is a lie." The repetition left the crowd, including Hess, stunned.
"Just what is it, Deputy Minister Hess," Paul asked calmly, "that has left you so surprised?"
Silence.
He took a single step forward, boots echoing against the floor, letting his gaze sweep the room.
"Is it what I did? No. It is that I did it openly."
He raised his hand and pointed. Slow. Deliberate.
"You."
"And you."
"And you."
Each word landed heavier than the last.
"Are these not the rules you yourselves agreed upon?" Paul continued. "The rules of this game you like to call governance. Deals in dark rooms. Power traded for loyalty. Morality bent whenever it becomes inconvenient."
His finger returned to Hess.
"You did not object when it served you. You did not protest when others fell. You called it necessary. You called it stability."
Paul allowed himself the faintest hint of a smile.
"I merely joined you. I played by the rules you wrote yourself."
He spread his hands slightly, as if the answer were obvious.
"So tell me, Deputy Minister," his voice dropped and grew even colder, "what exactly is it that surprises you?"
Hess breathed heavily, gulping hard. The words remained stuck in his throat.
Paul opened his mouth again. His lips tilted upward slightly into a cold, mocking sliver of a smile.
"Goebbels."
A pause.
"Hess."
Another pause.
"And all the rest of you. You are all architects of one of the most disgusting systems the world has ever seen."
"Thank you for your work. I will take over now," Paul added, turning and walking toward the door.
With those words, he ended any and all restraint. The members went wild, rushing toward the exits. To their bafflement, there was no one left to stop them. All the guards had vanished silently with Paul, leaving hundreds of members alone in the massive hall.
"QUICK! LEAVE THE HALL!" one shouted, running toward the door.
He grabbed the heavy handle. It did not move. He pushed and pulled with all his strength while others crowded behind him, but nothing worked. Slowly, he turned back to face the eyes of his colleagues. The realization of what was happening spread through the room like a cold wave. The horror on his face told the story before he could even speak.
Cling.
Paul breathed in the fresh night air while slowly descending the Reichstag steps. A golden coin flipped from his thumb and sailed through the air. Its gleam was still visible in the darkness as it turned and turned, each side fighting for dominance.
Then the metal glowed a fiery red, still high in the air, reflecting something massive.
A sudden, violent shockwave blasted forward. The coin fell back down before landing on something soft, Paul's outstretched hand clad in a leather glove. He looked down at his palm. Heads, but the face had been replaced by a simple cross.
Paul laughed dryly. Behind him, a massive fire cloud rose into the sky. Debris and stone were catapulted everywhere while the heart of the old Reichstag was devoured by flames.
There is no need to gamble anymore.
Chance is inefficient.
There is no need for dice or coin.
I say the numbers.
Paul thought, descending the stone steps.
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The coming chapters will return to a slower pace once again
Thank you all for the support! I appreciate every Power Stone, comment, and review.