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They no longer march. They no longer smile.

Poland is falling, but not surrendering.

Falk and his crew push forward across Polish fields, never knowing if the next crossing will be their last. The Panzer is no longer a symbol—it is a shield, a prison, and a rolling grave.

As borders burn and the world answers with fire, five men who once shared training and silence now share doubt, smoke, and blood.

The Leibstandarte SS Adolf Hitler has been chosen to break the way forward. But roads aren't cleared by orders—they're cleared by bodies.

Amid brutal engagements, tactical decisions, and commands that aren't always understood, each of them will begin to wonder what it truly means to obey… and what remains when duty has consumed everything else.

There is no return.
Only war.

Leibstandarte: Point of No Return Book II

Central Poland, September 6th, 1939.

The streets were empty, but not at peace. The town, small yet strategically placed, had been declared a "priority target" that morning. Not for its defenses, but for its road junctions. What doesn't show on a map can decide a campaign.

Falk watched from the hatch. Around him, the Panzers formed a staggered line. No music this time. Only engines, and the occasional crunch of glass under the tracks.

"What do you have, Helmut?" he asked.

"Fragmented resistance. Firing points from windows, narrow streets. Looks like we'll have to clear it with steel," he replied, fine-tuning the radio.

"The part we're best at," Falk corrected.

They moved forward. The first hundred meters were a desert. Then, gunfire from a balcony—short bursts. Nothing heavy, but accurate.

"Second floor, left side—fire incoming," Ernst shouted.

Konrad turned the turret and fired a burst. The building shook. Glass and wood flew out. The shell continued its path.

A winding street. Suddenly, a barricade of furniture and scrap metal appeared. Falk didn't slow down. Lukas accelerated and rammed through it. The crash was sharp, brutal.

"They want us slow. We go faster," Falk ordered.

At a crossroads, a friendly Panzer took an anti-tank shot from a concealed window. Direct hit. The driver died instantly. Screams over the radio.

Konrad found the source and fired without waiting for orders. The building collapsed. Dust. Bricks. Silence.

Minutes later, they reached a higher position. From there, the city center was visible. Smoke. Fire. And the shadow of planes passing high overhead.

"The Luftwaffe's late," Lukas murmured.

"Or just in time for the pictures," Helmut added.

The offensive ended with one last exchange of fire. The Poles retreated north. The German tanks didn't follow. Not yet.

When everything went silent, Falk switched to the direct command channel.

"Ritter to Albrecht. Sector secured."

The colonel's voice answered firmly, without delay:

"Albrecht here. Ritter, sector status?"

"Ruins. Silence. Resistance neutralized."

"One half-track in the rear. We're unharmed."

"Then follow me. This war doesn't reward those who rest."

Falk closed the hatch. The sun no longer shone. But the Panzer was still warm.And the column began to move again.

Chapter 3: Ruins and Silence