Paul stood on his balcony, holding something gently in his arms as he gazed into the distance.
"You wished to speak with me, Werner?" Paul suddenly asked without turning around.
Werner stood in the doorway of the balcony, clad in his SS uniform. Slowly he stepped forward until he stood beside Paul.
"Somehow this feels utterly out of place," Werner said, glancing at Paul and the child in his arms.
"What does?" Paul asked.
"This conversation. This interaction. It feels as if we have distanced ourselves from each other," Werner replied, daring to speak the truth.
"I know you do not approve of my methods," Paul said calmly. "But we are winning, Werner. We defeated Poland with fewer casualties than originally expected, and France fell even faster. We took their gold and their ships. Then we devoured Denmark, and now Norway stands on the brink of collapse. All while we pushed away the hegemon of the seas, Britain."
Werner sighed quietly.
"At what price..."
"A price I am willing to pay," Paul countered.
"We have had this conversation often enough, don't you think?" Werner suddenly asked, tilting his head slightly.
"Perhaps it is not only Germany and the timeline that have changed. We, the players, have changed too. You have changed too. Just think about it, Paul."
A shiver ran down Paul's spine when he heard his name again. It felt strange now, as if it no longer truly belonged to him. The entire situation Paul now found himself in had begun with a single message.
"We do not even know if that message is real," Paul whispered.
"Oh come on. It is real," Werner replied. "You have the chance to make peace with Britain. We have the momentum right now. Their morale is at an all time low. You have the opportunity to finally end this conflict with Germany standing as the victor."
"That was just one of their ministers. Do you truly believe Churchill would accept?" Paul asked again, still looking into the distance.
"To hell with Churchill. Britain is a democracy, and the people want peace. So why not give it to them?"
Paul looked at the child in his arms for a moment before carefully lowering it into the basket beside him.
"These games..." Paul began, his voice suddenly growing cold. "I do not play them the way you do."
He straightened up until he stood completely upright before turning sharply toward Werner.
"Ever since we arrived here, I could have died countless times. I could have failed countless times. And the same goes for you."
Paul pointed a finger at Werner's chest.
"Yet we continued to live. Continued to move forward. Continued in our struggle. Only because of one rule. My rule."
"And do you know what that rule is?" Paul asked, his voice growing dangerously fast.
"For those who stand in my way, I do not shoot them in the leg. I do not shoot them in the arm, the shoulder, or the chest."
Paul paused for a moment.
"No."
"I shoot them in the head."
"All enemies of Germany, near or far, now or in the future, will be shot in the head. Britain will be no exception. I will see this game through to its end, and I will not stop halfway simply because the honey tastes sweet."
Werner stepped back, shaking his head.
"Millions will suffer. All of humanity will, if we continue this war. So I will ask you one last question, Paul... Heinrich," Werner began.
"When did you lose your humanity?"
Paul shook his head before sighing deeply.
"The moment I decided to win."
...
Reich Chancellery, behind the heavy double doors.
"The naval bomber production will be increased steadily," Kesselring reported while standing before Paul, who sat behind his desk.
"Good. What about Project Heavenly Rain?" Paul asked suddenly, directing the question to the man sitting next to Kesselring.
Magnus von Braun, the temporary Minister of Research, immediately straightened and stood up.
"My Führer, the preparations for Project Heavenly Rain are nearly complete. Ten thousand units have already been produced, so we will be able to commence once the last three launching ramps are finished."
"When do you estimate they will be completed?" Paul asked.
"By the end of the year," Magnus answered after a brief moment of deliberation.
"Good. Then we will commence Project Heavenly Rain at that time. For now, we have something else on the agenda, do we not?" Paul asked.
He looked toward Ribbentrop, who nodded and stood up.
"The Italians informed us this morning of their expansion plans," he said with a hint of annoyance.
"Yugoslavia. Greece. North Africa."
"Foreign Minister, you will send delegations to Romania and Bulgaria to finalize our alliance. They are to join the war effort no later than autumn," Paul ordered. Ribbentrop nodded in response.
"They will receive some pieces of the first two, while the latter..." Paul paused for a moment.
"General Rommel."
Rommel immediately stood up.
"We will begin our African campaign together with the Italians. You will command our forces alongside General von Lettow-Vorbeck."
"Yes, thank you," Rommel answered.
"Manstein, I trust you will select the necessary officers and troops. As for the crossing..."
Paul turned his gaze toward Raeder.
"Since the British have prioritized their defense at home, they have withdrawn quite a few ships from the Mediterranean fleet to replenish the ones we destroyed. We should be able to break through their blockade," Raeder said, accepting the new task.
The meeting continued for nearly another hour. Strategies were refined, production quotas adjusted, supply routes debated and redrawn. One decision after another shaped the direction of the war.
Yet Paul's attention was never fully present.
Again and again his eyes drifted toward the far end of the long table.
Werner sat there in silence.
While the others argued, calculated and reported, Werner barely spoke a word. His posture remained rigid, his hands resting on the table, his gaze fixed somewhere ahead of him.
Paul noticed.
At last the meeting came to an end.
Chairs scraped quietly across the floor as the men stood up. Papers were gathered. A few final words were exchanged. One after another the officers and ministers left the room, their footsteps echoing down the long corridors of the Reich Chancellery.
Heydrich was among the last to leave.
Manstein stepped through the door first, already speaking with Raeder about naval logistics in the Mediterranean. Kesselring followed soon after, adjusting the collar of his uniform.
Heydrich moved toward the exit as well.
But then he paused.
Werner had not moved.
He still sat at the far end of the table.
And Paul was walking toward him.
Heydrich's sharp eyes narrowed slightly. For a moment he simply stood there, observing the two men. Something about the atmosphere in the room had changed.
He hesitated.
Then he quietly closed the heavy double doors behind him.
The loud voices from the corridor faded immediately.
Silence settled over the office.
Through the tall windows the afternoon sun poured into the room, its golden light illuminating Paul's back while Werner's face remained fully exposed to the light.
"My friend," Paul finally said.
His voice was calm.
...
Werner slowly lifted his head.
For a moment he simply stared at Paul.
His gaze was difficult to read. It was neither anger nor resignation. Something deeper lingered in his eyes.
Outside the door Heydrich had not gone far.
He stood only a few steps away, his back resting lightly against the wall beside the entrance. His head tilted slightly as he listened.
At first he could hear nothing.
Then faint voices reached him through the thick wooden doors.
Muffled.
Broken.
Fragments of sentences.
Heydrich frowned.
The voices were too quiet to understand, yet the tone alone was enough to tell him that this was no ordinary conversation.
Time passed.
The light in the corridor slowly shifted as the afternoon sun moved lower across the sky. Servants and officers walked past Heydrich several times, yet none dared question why the head of the Gestapo remained standing silently beside the door.
Eventually the voices stopped.
Silence followed.
The door opened.
Heydrich immediately stepped aside as Werner emerged from the office.
For a brief moment Heydrich simply stared at him.
It was not the length of the conversation that surprised him. The sun had already set outside the windows of the corridor.
What truly shocked him was Werner's face.
The man looked as if he had seen something that shattered his understanding of the world.
His expression was pale.
His jaw slightly tense.
And his eyes...
His eyes were filled with confusion.
Not fear. Not anger.
Confusion.
Heydrich watched him walk down the corridor without saying a word.
For the first time in a long while, even Reinhard Heydrich felt a faint sense of unease.
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