Hans stood on a windswept hill just outside Oberfeld, his coat flapping against his legs. Behind him, ten thousand soldiers — a mix of older greatcoat-era riflemen, trench officers, engineers, and signal squads — stood in rows like a steel wave frozen in time.
And next to him stood his four appointed Officers — the most loyal, skilled, and utterly different individuals he'd summoned.
Viktor – Stern, cold, and absolute. Former Imperial Execution Officer from the Eastern Front. Believes in obedience and military law above all. Wants to "restore true discipline" to the Officer Corps.
Franz – A genius tactician with a wild streak. Wears tinted glasses, smokes cigars, and laughs during battles. Once led a suicidal charge and won. Loyal to Hans, but believes in mobility, chaos, and battlefield "freedom."
Gertrude – A calculating logistics master. Controls the supply lines, food, ammo, medical stations. Quiet, meticulous, and terrifying when ignored. Sees war as chess. Wants full control over Oberfeld's development.
Otto – The youngest. Faithful, bright-eyed, and still green. Idolizes Hans. Believes in the "New Order" the Officer Corps is building. Wants diplomacy, civilian support, and world cooperation.
The tension between them was growing. Each had their own vision of what the Officer Corps should be. Hans didn't realize it yet, but factionalism had already begun.
"Sir," Franz said, chewing a matchstick. "When do we leave for Geneva?"
"In five minutes."
Franz smirked. "Good. Hope they bring wine. I hate tea."
Behind them, the town of Oberfeld was beginning to rise again. The barracks were under construction. Signal towers were blinking blue. Civilians — the ones brave enough to stay — were now planting food and hanging laundry under armed guard.
Hans didn't notice the two faint silhouettes watching from the clocktower above.
They were his ancestors.
One was tall and broad-shouldered, with a heavy black coat and a scar across his cheek. His name was Colonel Engelhardt, Hans's ancestor from the Monster Siege of 1841, a tactician known for his brutal last stands.
The other was thinner, older, wearing a rusted officer sabre and a twisted monocle — Director Albrecht, from the Civil Collapse Era, known for espionage, mind games, and infiltration.
"Do you think he's ready?" Engelhardt asked, arms crossed.
Albrecht lit a cigarette ghostlight and exhaled smoke into the clouds. "Ready or not… the world is watching him now."
Geneva Neutral Zone48 Hours Later
The summit hall looked like something out of a fantasy-diplomatic fever dream.
Gilded banners hung on bulletproof glass. Dozens of international flags surrounded the large round table at the center. The air was cold, still humming with shield magic.
Hans entered through the eastern wing — followed by six officers and thirty ceremonial riflemen, all in formation. The crowd parted.
All eyes turned to him.
Among the present:
Commander Vogt, of Germany's Iron Shield Guild — armor-plated, clean-cut, with a metal arm.
Lady Evelyn Wren, of Britain's Black Lion Guild — white uniform, platinum hair, and a hawk perched on her shoulder.
Takashi Mori, of Japan's Silver Lotus Guild — wearing a deep blue cloak, blade at his waist, silence in his eyes.
Marshal Petrov, of Russia's Frozen Dawn Regiment — wide as a tank, stared at Hans like a hawk sizing up a rival predator.
Ambassador Roy Hale, representing the fractured but still-present U.S. Guild Authority — cowboy boots, digital eyepatch, smiled too much.
Minister Freya Linde, from Sweden's Rune Assembly — glowing tattoos on her wrists, spoke only when needed.
Director Willem, from Netherlands' Wind Rebellion — cloak fluttering like it had its own will.
And then…
A final figure entered late.
Wearing dark, tattered armor, and a crescent-shaped pendant on his chest.
Mehmed.
His aura was cold. His expression unreadable. He walked alone, and not a single security officer dared stop him.
Hans narrowed his eyes.
"Is that…"
Commander Vogt nodded grimly. "The Gray Crescent. Yes. We invited him too."
Mehmed sat opposite Hans. Their eyes met.
No words exchanged.
But it was enough.
The table suddenly felt too small.
An assistant slammed a ceremonial hammer on the table.
"The Emergency Continental Defense Summit is now in session," she said.
Everyone sat. The silence was thick. A map projected in the air above them, showing all the world's open Gates — dozens of them, red and pulsing like angry scars.
Lady Evelyn spoke first. "We must address the Gate in Ankara. It's destabilizing the region."
Mehmed chuckled. "Perhaps if you hadn't tried to assassinate me last month, I'd care more about your 'concerns.'"
Takashi Mori intervened, voice sharp. "Focus. The breach near Osaka is worsening too. Monsters of the Spinal Wyrm class are appearing. If it connects to the European Gate system, we are finished."
Then Vogt turned to Hans.
"You've proven yourself in Oberfeld. Your tactical use of Officer Skills — your discipline — you remind us of the old world. But the question remains…"
He leaned forward.
"Whose side are you on?"
Hans didn't answer right away.
He glanced at Otto — who gave him a hopeful nod.
At Viktor — who stood like a granite statue.
At Franz, who smirked.
At Gertrude, who already had a spreadsheet open labeled "Continent Control Projections – 6 Months."
Hans took a breath.
"I'm on the side of survival," he said. "If the world burns, there won't be guilds left to argue about flags."
Roy Hale from the U.S. laughed. "Spoken like a true leader. Or a tyrant in the making."
A system notification pinged.
[System Alert – Political Recognition]Officer Hans Reinhardt is now recognized as a Global Neutral Military Actor.
Reputation Modifier: +10 with all major guildsThreat Modifier: +15 (MONITORED)
🔔 "World attention acquired."
Suddenly, the lights in the summit flickered.
The holographic map glitched.
And a new red dot appeared.
Right in the center of the table.
Mehmed looked up sharply.
"So it begins."
Hans stood slowly.
"…What the hell is that?"
The system replied.
❗️[WARNING – NEW CLASSIFIED EVENT DETECTED]Event: "Cataclysm Chain Breach: Origin Unknown"Location: Unknown
Estimated Casualty Projection: 100 million+
Mission Tree Unlocked:– Gather Intel– Choose Sides– Survive the Second Wave
Hans looked around the table at all the leaders, officers, and legends of the new world.
No one spoke.
Not even Mehmed.