"Vive la fucking France."

The gunfire had long since faded.

Inside Colonel Perrin's office, General Delon sat in a wooden chair, his arms resting on the desk as he leaned back, exhaling deeply.

His coat was unbuttoned, his uniform slightly ruffled.

His eyes flickered with exhaustion, but his spirit remained unshaken.

The door creaked open, and Major Varenne stepped in, his movements sharp and precise as always.

"General, we will be leaving in ten minutes. The men are already prepared."

Delon smirked, rubbing his temples before looking at Perrin.

His laughter was dry, humorless.

"Haha, it'll be fun in Paris with those pissers."

Perrin let out a slow breath, shaking his head.

Even Varenne's usual smirk didn't appear.

The joke was meant to lighten the mood, but there was no humor left to be found.

Delon straightened slightly, his expression turning more serious.

He locked eyes with Perrin.