The hall swallowed them whole as Paul and Hans stepped inside. Light from the chandeliers scattered across polished marble, catching on medals and polished boots. Laughter and conversation wove together like a net, and for a heartbeat Paul felt as though he had walked into the very heart of the Reich.
He let his eyes roam. As an history enthousiast, he recognised several of the most prominent figures of the Reich. Near the far wall, in his crisp naval uniform, stood Admiral Erich Raeder, posture rigid, expression unreadable, a man apart even in the crowd.
Closer to the center, General von Rundstedt conversed quietly with other officers, his stern presence radiating the calm authority of an old soldier. And then, as if gravity itself bent around him, Rudolf Hess, sharp features, restless energy, moved among the Party men like a conductor before his orchestra.
Paul’s chest tightened. This wasn’t just another gathering. This is the beating heart of the organism, we call the Reich.
As if sensing his thoughts, Hess’s eyes snapped toward him. A flash of recognition, a calculating smile. He lifted his glass and tapped it lightly with a spoon. The sound cut through the air, and the hall fell into silence.
"Meine Herren!" Hess’s voice rang out, every syllable sharp with command. "Tonight we celebrate loyalty, courage, and the future of the Reich. Among us stands a man whose face is well known within the Reich, and even beyond its borders. His is the face that symbolizes Germany’s awakening."
Hess lifted his glass higher, his eyes never leaving Paul."Herr Heinrich, step forward. Join me."
Paul’s stomach tightened, but his face remained calm. Every step toward Hess felt like walking along a razor’s edge. The eyes of the room followed him, some curious, some calculating. He lifted his glass, careful to keep his posture flawless.
"Thank you, Herr Deputy Führer," he said, voice steady though his mind raced."For this honor."
Hess’s smile widened, satisfaction evident. "Good. Good," he murmured. "Let it be known, Herr Heinrich is now an official member of the Party. From this day forward, his loyalty is bound to the Reich and its cause. Let all here witness the symbol of courage and service!"
Applause erupted, and the flash of cameras caught every angle. Paul felt the weight of the moment settle on him like a mantle as the applause erupted, filling the hall. He lifted his head slightly, eyes sweeping across the crowd, noting every detail.
Near the far wall, Admiral Erich Raeder remained rigid, expression unreadable. His eyes flicked toward Paul, sharp, calculating, but betraying no emotion.
Their eyes met for a brief, electric moment. A variable,
Erich Reader POV
Across the hall, Admiral Raeder’s eyes flicked toward Paul. For the first time, a hint of surprise crossed his otherwise unreadable expression. He hadn’t expected this young man whom he met the first time, to meet his gaze so confidently.
He carefully studied Paul for another heartbeat, noting the faint tension in his shoulders, the way he measured each gesture. He had learned long ago that proximity to the Party was a dangerous game.
The truth was, Reader was not happy with how things had developed. He had always dreamed of a powerful German navy, yet the Führer consistently favored the army and the Luftwaffe over his ambitions.
He had spoken his dissatisfaction, first quietly, then more deliberately, earning him nothing more than mockery and ridicule. His political connection to the Führer had weakened, and so had their personal one.
But Heinrich was different, he moved with a subtlety and sensitivity that Reader himself often lacked when dealing with the zealous Party members.
And yet...Reader’s eyes widened, there was something else in his eyes. The way he looked down on them, even the way he looked at Hess. A spark of hatred, of aversion, hidden behind the carefully drawn smile full of obedience.
Interesting, Reader thought. He plays the game, but he despises the players.
Paul POV
The applause still thundered in the hall, but Paul barely noticed it anymore.
Then, Hess raised a hand, calling for silence. "General von Rundstedt," he said smoothly, his tone carrying authority, "may I ask you to come forward? Let all here witness the unity of Party and Wehrmacht in rewarding courage and loyalty."
Rundstedt stepped forward, expression stern but deliberate, followed by Oberst Schwarzer. The hall fell into expectant silence.
Paul surprised by the turn of events, straightened immediately and saluted the General.
Rundstedt gave him a slight nod.
"On behalf of the Wehrmacht," Rundstedt announced, voice carrying through the room, "and in recognition of a courageous act that saved Oberst Schwarzer’s life, I hereby promote Leutnant Heinrich Jeager to Oberstleutnant of the Wehrmacht. Congratulations Oberstleutnant."
Paul’s heart skipped a beat. Saving Schwarzer had been instinct more than heroism, yet now it was being celebrated as exemplary service. He noticed the docens of cameras spread throughout the room. Propaganda, he thought wryly. Every move here is both a performance and a weapon. Yet I will take it gladly you fools.
"Thank you, General, I am honored," he said, trying to keep his voice serious, careful to sound sincere but measured.
Applause swelled, cameras flashing from every angle. Paul straightened, putting his hand behind his back, forcing a calm smile as the moment was recorded for history.
The applause slowly faded, replaced by the soft hum of conversation and clinking glasses. He wandered toward a quieter corner, where laughter spilled from a small group of guests.
There, a young woman in an elegant dress caught his attention. She gave him a friendly smile and eyes that seemed curious rather than calculating.
"Enjoying the evening?" she asked lightly, tilting her head as she studied him.
Paul’s lips curved into a small smile. "I suppose I am," he said, letting a hint of warmth slip through. "It’s... certainly an unforgettable night."
She laughed softly, the sound like a brief escape from the weight pressing down on the room. "Unforgettable indeed," she said. "Though I imagine it takes more than a uniform to stand out tonight."
Paul glanced down at himself, then back at her, feeling a flicker of amusement. "May I ask for your name, miss?"
"I’m Elisabeth, Elisabeth von Rundstedt."
Paul nearly choked on his drink. Von Rundstedt? The name echoed in his mind, and for a moment he forgot the careful composure he always maintained.
Elisabeth raised an amused eyebrow, suppressing a small laugh. "Careful Herr Jeager ," said lightly, her voice teasing.
For a while, Paul and Elisabeth lingered near the edge of the room, their conversation weaving between light teasing and observations of the party around them. Laughter, small confidences, and quick glances gave him a rare sense of ease amidst the formal chaos.
Finally, he glanced toward the glass door, the one leading out to the balcony. His eyes flicked briefly to Hans, who was enjoying himself at a table a little further in the room, laughter and chatter putting him at ease.
With that, he turned back to Elisabeth, "Care for some fresh air?" he asked lightly, nodding toward the door.
Her eyes sparkled with amusement. "I thought you’d never ask," she said, and together they began weaving through the crowd.
The balcony air was cool and quiet compared to the hum of the party behind them. Paul leaned lightly against the railing, taking a slow breath. Elisabeth stood beside him, watching the city lights twinkle below.
"It’s... tiring, isn’t it?" Paul said after a moment, voice low. "All the talking, the laughing, trying to keep up with everyone’s expectations. It’s easy to get lost in it all."
Elisabeth nodded thoughtfully. "I can imagine," she said quietly. "Even from the outside, it seems like so much effort to keep pace with everyone here."
Paul gave her a long and meaningfull look. For the briefest moment, Paul allowed himself a thought he hadn’t dared indulge since arriving in this past world.
She was the first person he could be even somewhat honest with, not the public, not the Party, not the military. Just... herself. Her easy smile, the way her eyes followed him without judgment, the fleeting sense that he could let his guard down for a heartbeat.
He opened his mouth, about to speak, when a shadow fell across the bacony.
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