Vienna – Imperial Justice Hall, One Week After the Adriatic Secured
A cold wind swept through Vienna. Despite the warmth of summer, a strange chill hung in the air as thousands gathered outside the Iron Crown Palace—not to celebrate a victory, but to witness judgment.
Inside the hall, the banners of the newly formed Ehrenfeld-Austrian Empire hung beside the black-and-silver insignia of the Office of National Security. Below them, bound in energy-dampening shackles, knelt the leaders of the Old Guard—Karling's most infamous commanders, captured in Slovakia, Hungary, and the Adriatic retreat.
The chamber was silent when Hans Ehrenfeld Adler entered.
He wore no crown, only the long black officer's coat he had worn since the first liberation. At his side stood Marshal Engelhardt, and across from them sat the newly formed Imperial Tribunal—three judges from Austria, Czechia, and Slovakia, handpicked from neutral cities.
Hans did not sit.
He stood.
And spoke.
"For ten years we suffered monsters from the portals. For five, we suffered traitors from within."
"But only now, with blood still wet on the stones of Bratislava and Split, do we face the men who lit the fire knowing full well the cost."
The tribunal judge from Brno cleared his throat.
"Do you, Emperor Hans, bring formal charges?"
"Yes," Hans said. "I charge these men and women—Karling's conspirators—with High Treason, Assassination Attempts, Genocide via Guild Raids, and Collusion with Hostile Extra-World Entities."
A hush followed. The last charge was unheard of.
One of the chained generals spat. "We protected the real Austria! You turned it into a circus of foreigners and mutts!"
Hans didn't flinch.
"And yet it was the mutts who saved our homeland from your bombs."
Three Days Later – Execution Square, Graz
Five former generals stood before the firing line, beneath flags burned in places by monster fire and war. Spectators were not allowed, but the feed was broadcast across the Empire.
Hans watched it from his private quarters, hand in Eliska's. She said nothing.
The rifles fired in unison.
One body twitched.
Justice—or what passed for it—was done.
Geneva – Emergency Summit: Post-War Dialogue
Now gathered not for peace but post-war alignment, the Geneva Chamber was filled with new, wary faces. Türkiye, Hungary (liberated), Romania, Japan, the U.S., and even Ukraine had sent envoys.
Hans stood at the center—not as petitioner, but as victor.
"The Old Guard is no more. What remains are warlords, broken guilds, and fractured borders. I propose a joint Post-Reconstruction Initiative, focused on Balkan recovery and monster suppression. The Empire will lead it—but we will not lead it alone."
The U.S. envoy nodded. "And your ambitions beyond the Balkans?"
"I have none—unless provoked."
Türkiye's Baran Özkan raised a hand.
"And Karling?"
"Alive. In hiding. Likely in Italy or the Alps. He will not live long."
Southern Croatia – Ruins of a Secret Base
Albrecht von Karling limped through the rubble, his left arm mechanical now—grafted from stolen awakened tech. The base was compromised, his generals gone.
He spoke to a shadowy figure, voice laced with venom.
"Hans thinks the war is over."
The figure handed him a black tablet.
"Let him celebrate. Let him think he's safe."
"And then?"
"Then we show him what real monsters look like."
Ehrenfeld-Austrian Empire – Imperial Palace, Vienna
Night had fallen. The fires of war were out. Rebuilding had begun.
Hans stood on his balcony, Eliska at his side, watching the lights of the city.
"Do you think it's really over?" she asked softly.
Hans looked down at his hands.
"No. But the war of survival has ended."
He turned toward her, lifting her hand.
"Now begins the war of legacy."