??? POV
The afternoon sun shone brightly on a sprawling mansion, finding its way through the tall windows of a spacious study, illuminating half the face of a young man. The man sat leisurely in a fine leather chair before a heavy wooden table, a cigar held between his fingers, smoke curling freely into the air.
On the table lay a newspaper whose bold headline proclaimed: German Forces March into Rhineland!
The man’s eyes wandered over the article, a faint smile playing on his lips, until suddenly his expensive cigar slipped from his fingers. His eyes widened, now fixed on the main picture: a young soldier hoisting the German flag.
He read the line beneath it: Lieutenant Heinrich Jeager, a soldier of the German army, raising the German flag in the Rhineland.
He froze. Heinrich Jeager. The name struck him like a lightning bolt. Furthermore, in all the history he had studied, in all the official records, there had never been a Heinrich Jeager playing such an important role.
His gaze lingered on the young officer’s features, the set of his jaw, the sharpness of his eyes, every feature of his face seemed eerily familiar, a terrifying resemblance.
This was no ordinary photograph, and that was no ordinary man, he realized. He knew that face, at least, the man inhabiting that body. That man was a time traveler, or more precisely, a transmigrator, just like him.
"So... both of us have been transported," he whispered, shock freezing his expression, his mouth falling open.
"It has to be him. That can’t all be coincidence." He shook his head fiercely and forced his eyes back to the article. Not yet a member of the Party... soon will be... a great role model for all Germans.
"What the fuck?" he spat, cursing under his breath.
He slammed the newspaper down on the desk, his mind racing. What the hell was Paul doing? Helping Germany... changing history... and now planning to join the Party? Was he trying to alter the timeline, or did he simply crave power? A chill traced down his spine.
"Sir William, is everything okay?" a voice came from behind the door, pulling him back to reality.
"Everything is fine, thank you," he answered quickly, in a slightly annoyed tone.
Yes... William Carry. It seemed that was the new me, he thought, a spoiled, rich little brat and somehow my ancestor.
He looked into the reflection of the tall glass window, glancing at his new face.
I may look different, I may act or think differently, but in my heart I am still James Carry. And I have to keep it that way, he concluded.
James’ eyes returned to the photograph in the newspaper. Paul, Heinrich Jeager stood there, the German flag in hand, as if he commanded the world itself.
No. This cannot happen. If Paul continues down this path, the timeline will be irrevocably altered
"No matter what it takes," James whispered to himself, "I will stop you."
His hand clenched into a fist. He would have to find a way to stop him before history itself was rewritten. The fate of millions, of countless innocents, rested on what he would do next.
James stood up promptly, walked through the door and started walking through his spacious families mansion, past large paintings and golden chandeliers. Soon reached an open door, that led into what looked like another study, although this one was smaller and less grand than his own.
The man who sat behind stacks of paperwork, was concentrating on writing something, so he did not even notice James’s arrival.
James cleared his throat softly. The man looked up, startled, revealing a lined face and sharp eyes, though his posture and the way he carried himself spoke of years of quiet competence.
"Ah... Sir William," the man said cautiously, rising to his feet. "I didn’t hear you come in. How may I assist you?"
James studied him for a moment. There was something reliable about this man, someone who could keep a secret without question. Perfect.
"I have a task for you," James said, lowering his voice. "It must remain between us, no one else can know. Can I trust you?"
The man’s eyes met his steadily. "You have my word. Everything discussed here stays between us."
James nodded, feeling a measure of reassurance. "Good. I need you to monitor certain events overseas, one person in particular." He handed over the newspaper. "Nothing must hint that anyone is watching him. Do you understand?"
"Understood, Sir William," the man replied, his expression unreadable.
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