Chapter 1: General Klaus Waldemar Schreiber
Glaricia 12, 24010; Winterlands, Hildenbourg; 10 years before the Invasion.
The Winterlands, situated in the Northern pole of Arethina, present a formidable challenge to any who dare to traverse its inhospitable terrain. With its vast expanses of snow-covered mountains and extreme weather conditions, it stands as a testament to nature's raw power and unforgiving nature.
Temperatures plummet to unfathomable depths, reaching as low as negative one hundred and fifty degrees Celsius, while ferocious winds whip across the landscape at speeds of up to a hundred miles per hour. The relentless blizzards that engulf the Winterlands obscure visibility to near zero, enveloping everything in a whiteout that renders even the strongest light unable to penetrate.
Despite these daunting challenges, the Hildenian Armed Forces have managed to establish a military presence in this hostile environment. However, navigating the treacherous terrain and unpredictable weather requires the expertise of skilled and seasoned pilots, capable of safely maneuvering through the blinding blizzards to execute their missions effectively.
The militarization of the Winterlands stands as a testament to the determination and resourcefulness of the Hildenian military, who have adapted to thrive even in the most unforgiving of environments.
Located ten kilometers beneath the continental crust lie five heavily fortified colossal bunkers, each serving as a vital hub for the assets of the Hildenian Armed Forces. Concealed and protected from external threats, these bunkers are essential for maintaining the military's operational capabilities in the Winterlands.
Each of the five bunkers houses crucial assets, including gunships, personnel, landships, aircraft, and intercontinental ballistic missiles armed with conventional payloads. Additionally, they contain vital resources such as reactor fuel, supply rationing facilities, climate control systems, and mechanisms for maintaining a day-night cycle for all personnel stationed within.
Despite their subterranean location, the bunkers are designed to provide a sense of familiarity and comfort to those stationed within. Luminous buildings within the bunkers bear a striking resemblance to the infrastructures of the five major states of The Federal Republic of Hildenbourg: Ausenstadt, Eibenberg, Düsseldorf, Zierenstadt, and Fürstenheim. This thoughtful design allows personnel, including civilian workers, to feel at home despite being far removed from the mainland.
The presence of these colossal underground bases underscores the Hildenian military's commitment to maintaining its operational readiness and ensuring the security of its assets even in the most extreme and isolated environments.
In the Fursteinheim section of Bunker number 301, a full-sized SUV registered to the Hildenian Armed Forces glides through the streets, flanked by escort vehicles. As the vehicle makes its way along the pavement, a military officer on foot catches sight of the General's vehicle. Recognizing the significance of the vehicle, the officer swiftly snaps to attention and renders a crisp salute, acknowledging the presence of the senior officer inside.
Though the tinted glass windows of the SUV obscure the officer's view, General Klaus, seated within, instinctively returns the salute with a respectful nod of his head. Despite the barrier of glass, the exchange of salutes serves as a silent yet meaningful communication between the two officers, affirming their mutual respect and adherence to military protocol
General Klaus, attired in the distinguished uniform of the Hildenian Royal Marine Corps, cuts a commanding figure as he sits within the SUV. His senior officer's uniform, adorned in shades of black and grey, speaks of authority and expertise, while the overcoat with its luxurious black fur collar adds an air of sophistication to his ensemble.
Despite his formidable appearance, General Klaus possesses a countenance that belies his martial prowess. With a face likened to water—gentle and serene in times of peace, yet fierce and resolute in the heat of battle—he exudes an aura of quiet strength and determination. His silvery hair, meticulously styled in a slicked-back fashion, lends him an air of distinction, while his crimson eyes, a unique trait possibly inherited from his enigmatic biological mother, command attention and intrigue.
As a being hailing from another realm beyond Arethina, General Klaus stands apart from the humans around him, his origins shrouded in mystery and fascination. Yet, despite his otherworldly nature, he serves dutifully in the ranks of the Hildenian Armed Forces, a testament to his unwavering loyalty and dedication to his adopted homeland.
Second Lieutenant Alexandria Adelheid Von Diegenhardt, occupying the seat beside General Klaus, serves as his trusted assistant officer. Clad in the distinctive attire of a junior officer, her black and grey uniform exudes professionalism and competence. Adelheid's uniform, tailored to fit her form with a skirt that falls above the knee, is complemented by the unconventional addition of black hosiery, adding a touch of individuality to her ensemble. Like her superior, she wears an overcoat with a black fur collar, mirroring his style with a sense of unity and cohesion.
Despite her military demeanor, Adelheid possesses a countenance that speaks of warmth and compassion. Her face, characterized by its kind and delicate features, radiates empathy and understanding. Crystal blue eyes, reminiscent of clear skies on a summer's day, gaze out from beneath silvery locks tinged with a jet-black streak—a visual reminder of the trials and tribulations that have shaped her past.
In the quiet confines of the cabin, Adelheid grappled with a sense of unease, hesitant to break the silence that enveloped the space. As she contemplated speaking to her senior officer, a wave of uncertainty washed over her, causing her words to falter and stumble before they could escape her lips.
Summoning her courage, Adelheid attempted to address the senior officer, her voice tinged with a subtle stutter as she struggled to find her footing in the presence of someone of higher rank. With each attempt, she fought against her inner doubts, determined to convey her thoughts despite the apprehension that threatened to hold her back.
"S-Sir, Permission to speak...!" Klaus's expression remained composed, though a hint of dissatisfaction flickered in his eyes as Adelheid sought permission to speak. He registered her request with a subtle nod, indicating his acknowledgment of her desire to communicate.
Klaus's observation caused Adelheid to falter further, her discomfort evident as she instinctively gripped her skirt, a physical manifestation of her unease. His remark, though delivered with a hint of disappointment, was meant to offer guidance rather than reprimand. Sensing her discomfort, he softened his tone slightly, seeking to reassure her.
"It's imperative that you address your superiors with confidence, Lieutenant," Klaus continued, his voice carrying a tone of gentle encouragement. "Your role demands clarity and assertiveness, qualities that will serve you well in your duties. Take your time, but remember to speak with conviction."
His words were intended to bolster her confidence, offering guidance to help her navigate the challenges of military protocol.
Klaus's request for Adelheid to repeat her statement was firm but not harsh, conveying a sense of expectation for her to articulate herself clearly. Despite her initial hesitation, he encouraged her to voice her thoughts, providing her with the opportunity to express herself and learn from the interaction.
"I want you to repeat your statement again, Lieutenant," he reiterated, his tone gentle but resolute, prompting her to gather her thoughts and speak with confidence.
Taking a deep breath to compose herself, Adelheid steadied her nerves and gathered her thoughts, determined to articulate her statement with confidence and clarity. With a newfound resolve, she spoke up again, her voice steady and firm, devoid of the earlier hesitation.
"Sir, permission to speak." she began, her tone more assertive this time, reflecting her determination to address the senior officer with respect and confidence.
Impressed by the improvement in her delivery, Klaus couldn't help but express a hint of amusement at the situation. However, he also felt a sense of bewilderment, considering Adelheid's years of service and experience in her rank.
"Nicely done, Lieutenant," he remarked, offering a small nod of approval. "Though I must admit, it's surprising to see someone of your experience stumble over words when addressing a superior officer. You've been in service for nearly eight years, after all."
"Lieutenant, do you usually stutter when speaking to your superiors?" he asked, his tone gentle but probing.
"A-ah, no, I don't stutter that much..." she reluctantly replied, her voice trailing off.
"If you don't really stutter that much, as you claimed to be, then why did you when you tried to speak to me for the first time?" he replied, his tone gentle but probing. Adelheid's eyes grew wide open as she couldn't think of a reasonable answer. her face began turning red out of embarrassment.
Adelheid's eyes grew wide open as she couldn't think of a reasonable answer. Her face began turning red out of embarrassment.
"Ah, umm, w-well..."
"We'll work on your speech later, Lieutenant."
"It'll be a long to the Ausenstadt section, so give yourself some sleep."
"Ahh, no no, s-sir! I'm not sleepy...!"
Concerned by Adelheid's drowsiness and involuntary eye movements, Klaus furrows his brow. "Lieutenant, are you feeling alright? You seem quite fatigued," he remarked, his tone filled with genuine concern.
"When we reach our destination, you'll get yourself some sleep."
Despite his words, Adelheid adamantly denies feeling drowsy and asserts her willingness to follow any instructions given to her.
"NO sir! I'm not sleepy!"
"I CAN MAKE 40 PAPER WORKS WITHIN THIS DAY!"
"Be honest with me, Lieutenant..." He sought honesty, and Adelheid, eager to impress the General with her office proficiency, likely sacrificed sleep. While this deprivation wouldn't severely impact her health, it would undoubtedly lead to fatigue.
"Lieutenant, if i may ask you..."
"How many hours do you usually sleep ever night?" Upon hearing his query, she hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Yet, leaving the General waiting would be deeply disrespectful, so she gathered her resolve to reply.
"You wouldn't really believe this sir, but.. ummm..." Klaus listened intently, preparing himself for her response. However, what he heard was so unexpected that it left him questioning her well-being.
"Go on..."
"2 hours per week..." She spoke in a hushed tone, causing Klaus to miss her words. He requested her to repeat herself.
"I'm sorry, kindly repeat that again?"
"2 hours per week...!"
Her response both fascinated and horrified him, leaving him speechless and unable to muster further questions. "Two hours per week," he repeated her statement, his tone reflecting a mix of surprise and concern. "It's surprising that you're still alive despite being severely sleep deprived..." he added, his concern evident in his voice. Unable to get her to work in the office, he instead instructed her to take a two-week rest.
"A single day is 47 hours, 56 minutes and 27 seconds, and somehow you managed to have only 2 hours of sleep per fucking week..." Feeling embarrassed, she gulped nervously, realizing the extent of her exhaustion.
"Umm...yeah..."
"I don't know whether to be impressed or horrified by that..."
"Anyway..."
Turning his head towards the back, he noticed three large pillows arranged neatly on the third-row seats. These pillows were a customary addition to his transport arrangements, especially during their travels through the extensive 400-mile tunnels connecting each section of the bunker. Such journeys typically took 4 to 5 hours to navigate through the tunnel, with additional time needed to reach the predetermined location within the bunker section.
"Take this one, it's soft, i guarantee you you'll sleep comfortably..." He extended one of the pillows towards Adelheid, a silent offering of comfort and rest. However, she seemed hesitant, her reluctance evident in her hesitation to accept it.
"I'm not that tired sir, i really don't need it!"
Adelheid sensed the shift in Klaus's demeanor, his expression now serious, and it sent a shiver down her spine. With trepidation, she reached out and accepted the pillow from his hands, her gratitude expressed with a nod of her head, her voice caught in her throat.
"It'll be a long way to Düsseldorf, it's best to recover some sleep..."
"Y-You're a caring man, sir..."
"..."
As Adelheid clasped the pillow tightly, she felt an unexpected wave of comfort wash over her, as if the pillow possessed some sort of psychological effect. With a heavy sigh, she conceded to herself the undeniable truth: she was in desperate need of rest.
"I do have to admit sir, i do need some rest."
Slowly, Adelheid's eyelids fluttered shut, her head gently leaning against the comforting embrace of the seatbelt. Within moments, the rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing signaled her descent into slumber, the tension of the day finally melting away in the embrace of sleep.
With a soft exhale, Klaus settled back into his seat, allowing the gentle hum of the vehicle and the steady rhythm of Adelheid's breathing to fill the cabin. As the miles passed and the tunnel stretched out before them, he found solace in the quiet, knowing that his assistant was finally finding the rest she so desperately needed.
As the SUV continued its swift journey through the tunnel, the kilometers ticking away steadily, Klaus glanced at the dashboard display, noting the distance remaining to the access tunnel. With 373 kilometers left to reach the access point, and another 200 kilometers beyond that to their destination in the Eibenberg section, he calculated the time they still had ahead of them.
With his smartphone drained of power, Klaus found himself in a quandary, devoid of entertainment options for the long journey ahead. His initial idea of a chess game dissolved as he realized the absence of the necessary paraphernalia. Undeterred, he embarked on a thorough search of the cabin's nooks and crannies, scouring under seats, within armrests, cup holders, and every available pocket in hopes of uncovering some diversion.
Despite his efforts, Klaus's quest proved fruitless, leaving him resigned to his boredom. Just when he felt all hope was lost, a glimmer of recollection sparked in his mind, triggered by the sight of the pillows he had provided for Adelheid's comfort.
Turning his attention to the third row of seats, Klaus's gaze landed upon an unexpected discovery—an obscured rifle nestled beneath the stack of cushions. Though initially dubious about the presence of such an item in the vehicle, Klaus's curiosity overcame his skepticism, prompting him to reach for the firearm with caution.
Ensuring the rifle was handled safely, Klaus extracted it from its concealed position, mindful of the potential danger it posed. With a keen sense of vigilance, he aimed the muzzle upwards, away from himself and Adelheid, preparing to explore this newfound diversion in the absence of other entertainment options.
"Okay, how many rounds do you have?" Klaus carefully removed the magazine from the rifle, his fingers deftly manipulating the mechanism. With a practiced motion, he inspected the contents, revealing a cache of 30 rounds nestled within. The cartridges, each bearing the designation 8.6x57mm, promised a formidable firepower.
Yet, what caught Klaus's attention was the assortment of ammunition types contained within the magazine. A diverse array of rounds lay before him, each tailored for specific purposes. Among them were Armor-Piercing Tracer (AP-T) rounds, designed to penetrate hardened targets with lethal precision. Accompanying these were High-Explosive Incendiary (HE-I) rounds, capable of unleashing devastating blasts upon impact. And interspersed among them were Hollow Point rounds, engineered to inflict maximum tissue damage upon impact.
Klaus meticulously extracted each round from the magazine, his movements deliberate and precise to ensure none were lost in the process. With a careful touch, he transferred the bullets to the tray table at the front his seat, arranging them in two neat rows of fifteen. The tray rattled slightly with the motion of the vehicle, prompting Klaus to cast a wary glance at the precarious arrangement.
Concerned that any sudden jolt could send the bullets tumbling to the floor, Klaus sought to stabilize the situation. His gaze fell upon the communication module nestled within the center armrest, its digital display offering a window into the vehicle's speed and status. Noting that the SUV was maintaining a brisk pace of 180 Km/h, Klaus decided to intervene.
Using the module to contact the driver, Klaus issued a directive to reduce the speed to a more manageable 100 Km/h. Though not in a hurry, he understood the importance of stability, especially when handling delicate tasks such as his current endeavor. With the driver duly instructed, Klaus returned his focus to the task at hand, determined to complete his improvised setup with care and precision.
"Sergeant, stabilize and maintain 100."
As the vehicle gradually complied with Klaus's instructions, its pace slowed to the designated speed of 100 Km/h. Klaus observed the digital readout on the communication module, monitoring the progress with a sense of satisfaction. Half a minute elapsed before the module confirmed that the SUV had stabilized at the prescribed speed.
With the vehicle now maintaining a more controlled pace, Klaus returned his attention to his task at hand. The reduced speed offered a welcome reprieve, affording him the necessary stability to continue his meticulous preparations without fear of disruption.
"Alright..."
With practiced precision, Klaus arranged the cartridges on the tray table, mimicking the strategic layout of a chessboard despite its lack of distinctive markings. His movements were deliberate, each cartridge placed with care as he recreated the familiar formation of a chess game. Though the surface offered no visual guide, Klaus's seasoned expertise in the game allowed him to visualize the grid of a traditional chessboard, mentally superimposing it onto the plain black expanse before him.
As he positioned the cartridges, Klaus instinctively assigned them roles akin to chess pieces, drawing upon his extensive knowledge of the game. Each cartridge assumed a strategic significance, its placement reflecting the calculated maneuvers of a skilled tactician. Despite the unconventional setting, Klaus approached the task with the same methodical approach he employed on the battlefield, adapting seamlessly to the circumstances at hand.
"Okay."
With a focused intensity, Klaus initiated the game, his hands moving with purpose as he made his opening move. Carefully, he nudged the cartridge representing a pawn forward on his side of the makeshift board, mirroring the action with another pawn on the opposing end of the tray table. Each movement was deliberate, his strategy unfolding as he navigated the battlefield of his impromptu game.
"It'll be much better if i don't have to face myself when playing this..."
Time seemed to stretch as Klaus contemplated his next move, his gaze shifting between the pieces scattered across the tray table. With a decisive nod, he reached for the cartridge symbolizing his queen, carefully maneuvering it to capture the pawn on the opposing side. The move was executed with precision, a calculated strike in his ongoing battle of wit and strategy.
"Tsk..."
With a sense of finality, Klaus meticulously returned each cartridge to the magazine, his movements precise and deliberate. As he completed the task, he secured the magazine back into place within the rifle's mag well, ensuring it was firmly seated. With a practiced hand, he checked the chamber, relieved to find it empty. Satisfied with the rifle's safety, he carefully placed it back on the third-row bench seats, concealing it once more beneath the soft pillows.
Klaus tugged at his sleeve, a habitual gesture as he glanced at his watch, the luminescent dial reading 23:17 AM. "Damn," he muttered under his breath, realizing the lateness of the hour. He tapped the center module, contacting the driver to inquire about the remaining travel time to the Access tunnel.
"Sergeant, how long will it take to reach the Access tunnel?"
<332 kilometers from our position, General.>
"How many hours to reach it?"
"Just maintain 100."
"And Stop by in Eibenberg once we exit the tunnel, okay?"
As the radio static faded, Klaus withdrew his hand from the center console, signaling the end of his communication with the driver. He reclined his seat, settling back into the comfortable embrace of the cushioned backrest. Gazing up at the bunker ceiling, he observed the screens projecting images of sunny blue skies through the transparent sunroof above the vehicle.
In this moment of repose, Klaus reflected on his experience in the Northern pole. Here, amidst the vast expanses of snow and ice, natural foods were a rarity. Within the confines of the bunker, sustenance came in the form of synthetically grown vegetables, fruits, and meats—devoid of the nuanced flavors and textures of their natural counterparts.
As he mulled over his responsibilities, a sudden recollection jolted Klaus from his contemplation. Decades ago, he had made a solemn promise to his sister—that he would return home by the year 24,005. This pledge, forged in a time long past, now echoed in his mind with newfound urgency.
"Ahhh Scheiße...!" With a heavy sigh, Klaus muttered a Hildenian expletive under his breath, his hand moving to rub his forehead in a gesture of regret. The weight of his forgotten promise to his sister settled heavily upon him, stirring a mix of remorse and frustration.
Klaus's mind drifted back to the moments before his assignment to the Northern Hemisphere, remembering the heartfelt plea from his elder sister Freida to remain in Mainland Hildenbourg. However, duty to Hildenian security prevailed, and he found himself committed to his mission in the Winterlands. In an attempt to assuage Freida's disappointment, he made a solemn vow to return home by the year 24,005. Yet, as he now realized, time had slipped away, and he had failed to honor that promise.
Despite his best intentions, Klaus found himself continually pulled into the tumultuous affairs of Arethina's conflicts, leaving him unable to fulfill the promise he made to Freida. The pressing security concerns surrounding Hildenbourg demanded his unwavering attention, leaving little room for personal matters. However, determined to make amends, Klaus resolved to return to the Mainland by the 15th of Glaricia in the year 24,010. There, he planned to request a 10-year administration leave from the Palace, hoping to finally fulfill the pledge he had made to his sister so many years ago.
"...maybe I should give her a call..."
Klaus hesitated for a moment, gathering his thoughts before leaving a message for Freida.
"Freida, it's Klaus. I know it's been a long time since we last spoke. I... I wanted to apologize for not keeping my promise to you. The years have been filled with challenges, and I've been unable to return home as I had hoped. But I want you to know that I haven't forgotten. I'm planning to come back soon, Freida. I promise. I'll make things right. Please, forgive me. And if you're willing to talk, I'll be waiting. Take care, Freida."
With a heavy heart, he ended the call, hoping that his words would reach his sister, wherever she may be.
when he was about to put down his device, suddenly the phone rang. He takes a look at the screen; it was Freida. He quickly tapped on the answer button, face timing her.
"Yes, it's me..."
"Doing great, but hey, listen I-"
Before he could finish his sentence, Freida interrupted him.
"I'll be coming back to the Mainland in the 15th day of Glaricia."
"I'll be looking for someone to take over my position in the Bunker..."
"Come on Freida, you know she's busy with ensuring National security."
Klaus was skeptical of following Freida's suggestion.
"Okay, I'll try to establish comms with her..."
"You could say it that way..."
"Anyways, I'll be ending our line of call..."
As Klaus prepared to end the call, a sudden realization struck him like a bolt of lightning. Freida, his sister, resided in the Imperial Palace, the very place where the Empress Eleanor also lived. This connection sparked a flurry of thoughts and emotions in Klaus's mind.
He hesitated, contemplating whether to bring up the topic with Freida. After a moment of internal debate, he decided to broach the subject delicately, aware of the potential implications.
"Wait, Freida!"
"Is the Empress there? Like is she in the office?"
"Why don't you ask her to find a replacement officer for me?"
"Also, tell her that i want to request a 10-year leave."
"Go for it."
"Thanks in advance, I'll make it up to you once i get back in the Mainland."
"N-No, that's all!"
As Klaus carefully lowered his smartphone onto the sleek wireless charger nestled beneath the console, a tender warmth enveloped his chest, a fleeting yet cherished connection with his sister leaving him uplifted. But as he glanced up, his gaze met Adelheid's, her eyes filled with a curious mix of inquiry and apprehension.
"What's on your mind, Lieutenant?" Klaus's voice was calm, inviting her to speak.
Adelheid hesitated, her words stumbling as she sought permission to voice her question. Klaus nodded, a silent signal that she could proceed.
"Your call... it was on speaker," she began tentatively. "May I ask... who were you speaking to?"
Her question hung in the air, prompting Klaus to turn slightly away, his expression now contemplative. He pondered his actions, searching for the right words to share with his junior officer.
"That was my sister, Lieutenant," Klaus finally confessed, his tone tinged with a hint of vulnerability.
Adelheid's shoulders visibly relaxed, a soft exhale escaping her lips. "Oh, what a relief," she murmured, the tension in her voice dissipating.
Klaus's brow furrowed in confusion. "Lieutenant, why do you sound relieved?"
Caught off guard by Klaus's inquiry, Adelheid scrambled to compose herself. "Uh, it's nothing, sir," she replied hastily, her words lacking conviction.
Though Klaus sensed there was more to her reaction, he chose to let it go, dismissing the matter for the time being.
(How peculiar of her...)
After three long hours had slipped away, the sleek black SUVs glided into the yawning mouth of the access tunnel leading towards the heart of the Eibenberg sector.
Klaus jerked in his seat, taken aback by the abrupt crackle of communication from the driver's side. With a low grunt, he straightened, rising slightly in his seat, his hand instinctively reaching out to tap the comms device, ready to respond to the driver's call.
"Sergeant, say again?"
"Yeah, what about it?"
"Make that 300, Sergeant."
"Increase speed above 300 Kph."
With a deliberate touch, the driver eased the accelerator, coaxing more power from the engine and propelling the vehicle forward with a newfound momentum. The escort vehicles mirrored the acceleration, their engines humming with determination as they surged ahead to keep pace with the General's lead. Fortunately, the road ahead lay empty, as confirmed by the vigilant sweep of the SUV's forward radars, offering a clear path for their swift advance.
"Oh shit...!"
As the vehicle's velocity surged, Klaus felt the force pressing him back into his seat, a testament to the formidable power coursing through the SUV's engine. He couldn't help but be captivated by the sheer might and grace with which the vehicle surged forward, a mechanical symphony of strength and precision unfolding beneath him.
"Wohohoho...!"
{300 Km/h}
{308 Km/h}
{314 Km/h}
{322 Km/h}
{330 Km/h}
{337 Km/h}
{342 Km/h}
{353 Km/h}
"Damn, how much speed does this thing can even withstand?!"
His fascination deepened as he marveled at the unwavering stability of the SUV, even as its speed continued to climb. Unlike lesser vehicles prone to teetering on the brink of instability at elevated velocities, the SUV remained steadfast, slicing through the air with a composed confidence that spoke volumes of its engineering superiority. Each turn and maneuver were executed with a seamless precision, defying the turbulence that typically plagued vehicles pushed to their limits.
{383 Km/h}
{390 Km/h}
{412 Km/h}
The escort vehicles strategically positioned themselves, maintaining a safe distance of approximately 300 meters from the lead SUV. This precautionary measure ensured a buffer zone in the event of abrupt braking, allowing for swift reaction times and preventing any potential collisions amidst the high-speed convoy.
{423 Km/h}
{434 Km/h}
{451 Km/h}
Despite the sophisticated noise cancellation systems within the cabin, the thunderous roar of the engine pierced through, reverberating with an intensity that seemed to defy containment. Inside the confines of the tunnel, the cacophony of screaming engines assaulted the senses, a symphony of power and velocity echoing off the walls. The sound, akin to the ferocious blast of jet engines at full throttle, filled the air with an electrifying energy, setting pulses racing and adrenaline surging through veins.
{487 Km/h}
{493 Km/h}
{500 Km/h}
The moment the vehicle breached the 500 km/h mark, a shrill overspeed alarm shattered the air, jolting the driver into immediate action. It served as a stark reminder that the SUV had pushed beyond the threshold of its meticulously engineered limits, signaling the maximum safe speed envisioned by its designers.
"Okay, Friedmann, arm the spoilers."
"Arming spoilers."
Friedmann's hand darted towards the controls, his fingers finding their mark on the sleek surface of the screen, illuminated by the rhythmic pulsing of a prominent button. With deft precision, he tapped the screen, each touch a deliberate command as he swiftly navigated through the interface, his actions a testament to his expertise and composure in the face of urgency.
[Spoilers: Arming]
"Spoilers are arming sir."
The Sergeant, his eyes focused and determined, eased off the accelerator pedal with a steady hand, initiating a gradual deceleration of the vehicle. With each passing moment, the relentless surge of speed was tamed, the powerful engine relenting to the skilled touch of its driver as the velocity gradually receded, bringing a sense of controlled calm to the once-thrilling race against the wind.
{486 Km/h}
{480 Km/h}
{475 Km/h}
{467 Km/h}
{453 Km/h}
{446 Km/h}
With a measured touch, the Sergeant's foot gently applied pressure to the brake pedal, initiating a subtle yet effective reduction in speed. The vehicle responded obediently, its powerful brakes working in tandem with the Sergeant's skilled control to bring about a gradual and controlled deceleration. Each calculated movement of the pedal brought them closer to a more manageable pace, ensuring a smooth transition from the exhilarating rush of speed to a safer, more controlled journey.
{432 Km/h}
{418 Km/h}
{408 Km/h}
"Good, it's getting lower..."
{392 Km/h}
{382 Km/h}
{371 Km/h}
{359 Km/h}
{341 Km/h}
[ Brake Temperature: 74°C ]
{331 Km/h}
{324 Km/h}
{312 Km/h}
{293 Km/h}
{283 Km/h}
{274 Km/h}
[ Brake Temperature: 115°C ]
"Brake Temp, one one five."
"Copy."
{262 Km/h}
{253 Km/h}
{243 Km/h}
{231 Km/h}
{223 Km/h}
[ Brake Temperature: 134°C ]
{208 Km/h}
{198 Km/h}
{190 Km/h}
{184 Km/h}
{176 Km/h}
{165 Km/h}
{158 Km/h}
{150 Km/h}
[ Brake Temperature: 190°C ]
"Brake temp, one niner zero."
"...come on, 140, 130, 110..."
{105 Km/h}
{94 Km/h}
"Brake temp, two three zero."
"Okay, disarm spoilers."
"Disarming spoilers."
As Friedmann swiftly retracted the spoilers, the sleek lines of the vehicle once again embraced the principles of aerodynamic efficiency, optimizing its performance for the journey ahead. Meanwhile, the Sergeant, recognizing the need to let momentum carry them forward, eased his foot off the brake pedal, allowing the vehicle to gradually shed its velocity over distance. With each passing moment, the sleek machine gracefully surrendered its speed.
{80 Km/h}
{78 Km/h}
{77 Km/h}
{75 Km/h}
Klaus couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction wash over him as he reflected on the exhilarating ride. In those fleeting minutes, he found himself utterly captivated by the flawless integrity of the vehicle's engine and transmission. Each rev of the engine, each seamless shift of the transmission, spoke volumes of the meticulous craftsmanship and unwavering reliability engineered into every component.
Reaching out, Klaus's hand found the familiar touch of the comms system, his fingers tapping purposefully against the mic as he prepared to respond to the driver's call. With a sense of calm determination, he poised himself to convey his thoughts, ready to engage in the exchange of communication that would guide their journey forward.
"Yes Sergeant, I'm okay back here."
"What...?"
"You read my mind, Sergeant."
Both men chuckled within the comms.
After what felt like an eternity, the vehicles finally emerged from the Access Tunnel, venturing into the expansive expanse of the Eibenberg section. Klaus rolled up his sleeves, a habitual gesture as he glanced at his watch, noting the time: 24:14 PM.
"I was wondering if you boys are hungry, if so, it's all on me."
"Good, is there any nearby Eat-all-you-can restaurants?"
"Okay, tell the others that we'll be stopping by at that restaurant."
He turned his head towards Adelheid; she is still asleep.
"Lieutenant, wake up..."
"Mhmmmhm, just 5 more minutes... mahhh"
"Hey, Lieutenant, we're stopping by at a nearby restaurant."
"You must get yourself something to eat..."
Unable to rely on familiarity to wake Adelheid, Klaus hesitated to tap her shoulder. Though it seemed like the most practical solution, their brief acquaintance made him hesitate to intrude on her personal space. Klaus tapped the comms once more, signaling the Sergeant for a brief conversation.
"Sergeant, how do you wake up someone who's in a deep sleep?"
<....>
After a brief pause, the Sergeant finally replied to Klaus's inquiry.
"What do you mean forgive you after this-"
With a firm press on the accelerator, the Sergeant surged the vehicle forward, pushing its speed to nearly 80 kilometers per hour.
"Woah, shit..."
{82 Km/h}
{86 Km/h}
"Forgive me, sir..."
The sudden application of the brakes jolted the vehicle to a halt, thrusting Klaus and Adelheid forward in their seats. Adelheid, relying on her seatbelt to support her head, felt a sharp pressure against her neck as the seatbelt tightened abruptly, causing her to gasp for air as it briefly choked her. The jarring motion and discomfort stirred her from her slumber, prompting her to cough as she regained her senses.
"Fuck!"
Concern etched onto his features, Klaus swiftly released his seatbelt and rose from his seat, moving to Adelheid's side to check on her well-being.
"Hey hey hey, Lieutenant, are you okay?"
"cough* cough* Y-Yes sir!"
"Okay, just breathe..."
Adelheid nodded in response, still catching her breath. Meanwhile, Klaus rose from his seat and reached for the communications panel.
"Sergeant what the fuck were you high on?!
"I-I argh, tsk, uhhh.."
Klaus was at a loss for words, conflicted by the effectiveness of the Sergeant's method in awakening Adelheid despite its abruptness.
"Hey, Lieutenant, we're stopping by at a restaurant 4 clicks from here, I was wondering if you want to get something to eat-"
"Who's the driver, sir?"
"Huh?"
"I said, Who. Is. The. Driver. Sir?"
Adelheid's unsettling gaze pierced Klaus like a bolt of lightning, her eyes flickering with a dangerous intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. In that fleeting moment of connection, Klaus recognized the telltale signs of her simmering anger, a silent warning that the Sergeant's actions had stirred a formidable tempest within her.
"Sergeant Franz Wolfgang Hühnerbein."
"I'd like to have a word with him when we reach that restaurant, sir."
(Oh you've done fucked up, Franz...)
"Drive on, Sergeant"
As the vehicle pressed onward, the convoy of escorts trailing behind, Adelheid's movements hinted at a subtle shift in demeanor. With a determined grace, she unfastened the buttons of her overcoat, allowing it to fall open and reveal a glimpse of the strength and resolve hidden beneath its tailored exterior. In a gesture of defiance, she slipped off her shoes, setting them aside with a deliberate motion that spoke volumes of her readiness for whatever lay ahead.
"Lieutenant, what are you doing?"
"You might wanna look away, sir- or not, you can choose not to..."
Sensing Adelheid's next move, Klaus swiftly averted his gaze, fixing his attention on the opposite side of the vehicle with a deliberate shift. It was a subtle yet respectful gesture, a silent acknowledgment of her privacy and autonomy in the midst of their shared journey.
"Lieutenant-"
"Adelheid...!"
"Okay, Adelheid. what are you doing?"
"Giving Mr. Chicken Leg a lesson for pissing me off!"
"I'll have to apologize for my inappropriate actions, General."
"Quite understandable, but what's the connection with taking off your skirt to teaching the Sergeant a lesson?"
"You have no idea how difficult it is to move with this type of skirt."
"Oh whatever, just get it over with, LT."
(Well that was an unexpected personality change...) speaking in his thoughts.
The General found himself taken aback by the sudden shift in Adelheid's demeanor. Initially meeting her with an air of vulnerability, he had been unprepared for the swift transformation that followed her encounter with the driver. From a gentle soul to a formidable force, Adelheid's reaction spoke volumes about her unwillingness to tolerate any form of misconduct or disrespect.
As he pondered over the puzzling dichotomy of her behavior, a realization dawned on him. Perhaps, he mused to himself, Adelheid's initial display of vulnerability had been a strategic choice, a calculated means of disarming those around her and concealing the depths of her inner strength. It was a testament to her nuanced understanding of human nature and her ability to adapt to the demands of any situation.
Despite the mystery surrounding her actions, one thing remained clear to the General: Adelheid's confidence was not something that needed to be cultivated—it was a force of nature unto itself.
"Are you done?"
"Almost, but I'll be needing assistance here sir."
"You might want to put your overcoat over your lower half, Adelheid."
Adelheid was confused.
"What's the reason, sir?"
"I can see your entire reflection here at my window."
"And...?"
Klaus shook his head out of as he could not explain what he was seeing in the window's reflection.
" Just so you know sir, I really don't give a damn if you get rock hard over my ass. "
"..."
"...I won't cover my lower half until you look at me sir."
" Alright! As long is it'll get you to cover your lower half, then I'll turn around."
The General's gaze drifted toward Adelheid once more, where he couldn't help but notice the curves of her figure, including her ample posterior. The General couldn't shake off a twinge of disappointment at the unexpected sight before him. He found himself grappling with disbelief, unable to reconcile the reality of what he was witnessing with his preconceived notions.
(I can't believe what I'm seeing right now...)
"See? It's not that bad sir."
"Alright, what is it that you need?"
Adelheid's gesture drew Klaus's attention towards the back of the vehicle, where her outstretched arm indicated the location of her bag in the third row. Following her indication, Klaus turned his gaze to the designated spot, his curiosity piqued by the significance of her gesture.
"Do you want me to get it?"
"Well if you can lift something that weighs over 30 kilos."
Rising from his seat with a sense of purpose, the General reached for Adelheid's bag, his movements deliberate and careful. Lifting it with a steady hand, he ensured a secure grip before gently placing it on the floor, mindful of protecting its contents from any potential harm. It was a small yet meaningful gesture, a testament to his attentiveness and respect for Adelheid's belongings.
"Wow, you're strong sir."
"I'll take that as a complement, Lieutenant."
"Anyways, thanks for the help!"
Adelheid deftly unzipped the large opening of her bag, her fingers moving with practiced ease as she delved into its depths. With determined precision, she sifted through the bundle of clothes nestled within until her search yielded the desired item.
"Yes!"
Adelheid retrieved a new skirt from her bag, its color harmonizing with the blouse she wore. Despite its deviation from the uniform, its complementary hue added a touch of cohesion to her attire. With practiced finesse, she slid the skirt beneath her, rolling it up to the desired length at her waist. Methodically, she folded her old skirt and returned it to the confines of her bag, sealing it shut with a decisive zip.
(I have so many questions to ask her...)
"Lieutenant, why do you need to wear a new pair of skirt?"
As Adelheid slid her foot into her shoes, her finger trailed along the counter for support, ensuring a snug fit as she settled them in place. Simultaneously, she responded to the General's question with a calm and composed demeanor, her multitasking abilities a testament to her efficiency and poise in any situation.
"Oh you'll see sir..."
As the SUVs reached their designated destination, Sergeant Franz swiftly turned his attention to the digital instrument cluster, meticulously scanning for any signs of mechanical failure within the propulsion systems. With a sense of relief, he confirmed that all systems were functioning flawlessly, free from any concerning issues. he proceeded to shut off the vehicle's lights, casting the immediate surroundings into darkness. Yet, mindful of the need for a brief period of engine cooldown, he left the engine running for a few minutes, allowing it to gradually wind down from the intensity of their journey.
"Sergeant, did you know that what you did back there was stupid?"
"Just trying to help out the General."
"You did help him while simultaneously pissing him off!"
"I told him to forgive me, so..."
Sergeant Hühnerbein swung open the driver's side door with purpose, stepping out of the vehicle to lend his assistance to the waiting officers. With a practiced efficiency, he moved swiftly, his presence a reassuring anchor amidst the flurry of activity unfolding at their destination.
"I don't think that man will even forgive you, sir..."
Friedmann stepped out from the side passenger door with a smooth motion, his demeanor purposeful as he exited the SUV. Moving to assist the General, he approached the second-row passenger side door, only to be surprised as the General effortlessly activated the internal mechanism, causing the gull-wing doors to open with precision.
" Friedmann...!"
"Sir!"
Friedmann offered a crisp salute to acknowledge Klaus' rank, receiving a respectful salute in return from the General. With a sense of purpose, Klaus descended from the SUV, taking a moment to straighten his collar and adjust the Sentinel's Aegis Cross adorning his uniform.
As this transpired, Sergeant Franz moved towards the left side passenger door to aid the Lieutenant. Gripping the handle, he pulled it towards him, unlocking the latches and allowing the gas struts to smoothly lift the door open.
"Lieutenant!"
As Franz extended a salute to Adelheid's rank, his gesture met with silence as she refrained from reciprocating the salute. Sensing her disinterest, Franz maintained a respectful posture, though a subtle tension lingered in the air. With a faint gesture, he positioned his hand slightly near his right eye, a subtle signal of readiness and attentiveness as he awaited her response.
As Adelheid emerged from the vehicle, she took a moment to straighten her wrinkled uniform and don her visor cap with precision. Catching Franz's gaze, she approached him with purpose, her steps deliberate as she intruded into his personal space. Franz couldn't help but detect a hint of discomfort in her demeanor, a silent indication that his presence was unwelcome.
"Name and Serial Number, now!"
"Sergeant Franz Wolfgang Hühnerbein, Service number 670 - 349 -820"
"Ahh Sergeant Hühnerbein, a "pleasure" to meet you, Sarge."
"P-Pleasure to meet you Lieutenant..."
Despite the growing numbness creeping into his arm, Franz remained steadfast, his salute unwavering as a mark of respect towards Adelheid's rank. Bound by the strict code of military etiquette, he understood the importance of maintaining decorum and refrained from lowering his saluting arm without permission, even as discomfort gnawed at him.
"Say, do you know the meaning of your surname, Sergeant?"
He was confused, but answered her without hesitation.
"No, ma'am..."
Klaus stepped onto the pavement, his gaze drawn to the scene unfolding between Adelheid and Franz. Observing from a distance, he couldn't help but notice Franz's unwavering salute, a stark contrast to Adelheid's apparent indifference. It was as if Franz was left hanging, his arm held aloft in a salute that went unanswered, a silent testament to the discord lingering between them.
"Will you be surprised to learn that your surname translates to Chicken leg?"
"M-Ma'am?"
"Starting today, I'll call you Sergeant Chicken Leg, do you understand me Sergeant?"
"Yes, ma'am."
As Franz's arm trembled with the growing numbness, Adelheid's sharp perception caught the subtle signs of his discomfort. Finally acknowledging his salute, she returned the gesture, bringing a sense of relief to Franz as he was able to lower his arm at last. The tension that had hung in the air dissipated, replaced by a fleeting moment of mutual understanding and respect between them.
"You're lucky that I did not make you perform 800 push-ups."
"Dismissed."
Adelheid retrieved her overcoat from the seat and made her way towards the entrance with purpose, her steps measured and determined. Meanwhile, Friedmann couldn't help but overhear their conversation, his amusement bubbling up at the realization that his surname translated to "Chicken Leg." Despite his best efforts, he struggled to contain his laughter, a hint of mirth dancing in his eyes as he fought to maintain his composure.
"Sarge, I'm sorry, I just can't believe your name literally translates to a chicken part...!"
"That's why I'm your sister's favorite...!"
Klaus couldn't help but chuckle at Friedmann's reaction, finding amusement in the lighthearted moment. However, as Friedmann turned to him with a dissatisfied expression, Klaus quickly stifled his laughter, sensing the Corporal's disapproval. Clearing his throat, Klaus adopted a more composed demeanor, mindful of maintaining a professional atmosphere despite the brief moment of levity.
"Fuck you guys!"
"What, you're the one who told me your sister likes drum sticks!"
As Friedmann exited, his dissatisfaction palpable, Klaus offered a resigned observation: "Don't start a war you can't win." The words hung heavy in the air, a cautionary reminder of the importance of choosing battles wisely and considering the potential consequences before engaging in conflict.
(Good joke, but terrible execution...)
Franz nudged the General, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. "General, have you noticed any changes in the lady?"
Klaus raised an eyebrow. "What about it?"
Franz chuckled. "I mean, her skirt... like, uh..."
Klaus sighed, catching on. "Yes, apparently she was not comfortable with the uniform, so she swapped it for a pleated skirt."
Franz's grin widened. "Heh, you're a lucky bastard, sir, getting to see her bare ass."
Klaus's expression remained neutral, though his tone was dry. "I actually did see it."
The smirk faded from Franz's face as he realized Klaus wasn't joking. "She also said that she wouldn't mind me staring at her..."
Klaus's stoic expression didn't waver. "You're not joking...?"
"No," Klaus replied simply.
Franz paused, then leaned in, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Then perhaps ask her out...?"
Klaus shook his head firmly. "I'm not looking for a relationship, Sergeant."
Franz persisted, nudging Klaus again. "Come on, you'll miss out on all the fun with her!"
Franz remained resolute. "Trust me, you'll regret it in the future, sir..."
Franz tried once more, his tone playful. "Come on, sir, I might help you out with getting along with her!"
Klaus offered a polite refusal. "Thanks, but no. Thanks!"
Klaus removed his visor cap, tucking it neatly onto his waist with his right arm. Stepping forward, he approached the entrance. Before continuing, he turned back to the NCOs, informing them that the bill is on him. Their surprise was evident; they had never encountered a senior officer quite like Klaus before.
"Hey, the foods wont eat themselves, aye? Come on!"
With a sweeping gesture, Franz beckoned the NCOs to follow him inside. Despite their initial skepticism, one by one, they reluctantly made their way towards the entrance, their footsteps echoing against the polished floors as they entered the opulent embrace of the most luxurious restaurant nestled within the bunker section.