Aron's Command in the Meeting Room – October 1775
The room was filled with silence as Aron Himmler sat at the head of the Joint Military Headquarters, the map of Europe spread before him. His cold eyes narrowed as he looked over the neighboring nations, his finger tracing the borders of Luxembourg, the Netherlands, and Belgium.
His voice was clear, commanding, and unwavering as he addressed the gathered generals and officials.
"Send an ultimatum to Luxembourg, Netherlands, and Belgium. Give them two months' time to submit to the German Reich or face our wrath. Inform them that they will either join us willingly and prosper, or we will be forced to act."
The room stirred briefly with murmurs before the General of the Reich Army spoke up.
"Führer, are you certain? The Dutch have strong naval power, and Belgium has the potential to resist. If we go to war, it could open another front."
Aron's gaze remained fixed, cold and calculating.
"I am certain. We cannot allow weak, independent states to exist on our borders. Their resistance only weakens the strength of the Reich. Let them decide if they wish to join us or face destruction. They will either submit or suffer the same fate as those before them."
Aron leaned back in his chair, the Reich Guards standing stiffly around him. "Issue the ultimatum. Make it clear that they have no choice but to bend the knee. Two months—no more."
The generals nodded in agreement, understanding the weight of Aron's words. The next phase of expansion was about to begin.
With the order given, the room went back to its business, the future of Luxembourg, the Netherlands, and Belgium now hanging in the balance. Would they bend to the will of the German Reich, or would they face the same fate as the others who had defied Aron's rule? Only time would tell.
New Year Festival – Berlin, January 1, 1776
The streets of Berlin were alive with celebration as the German Reich rang in the new year with grand festivals. Music, fireworks, and performances filled the air, and the atmosphere was charged with both the energy of a newly consolidated empire and the weight of its rapid expansion. The city was adorned in flags of the NSPP, with banners of the German Reich lining every street. Thousands of citizens, both loyal and newly subdued, filled the streets to witness the spectacle.
In the heart of the city, the grand Palace of the Führer was the focal point of the night's festivities, with a massive banquet hall where high-ranking officials, military generals, and leaders from the newly annexed states gathered in lavish attire. A feast fit for a monarch was spread across the long tables, while Aron Himmler, the Führer, stood at the front of the room, surrounded by his closest advisors, including Erwin, his ever-loyal brother, and several prominent leaders of the NSPP.
The festival was not just a celebration but a symbol of Aron's triumph, a reflection of how far he had brought the Reich from humble beginnings to a powerful and fearsome empire. Aron's cold and calculating gaze swept over the crowd as he looked down from a raised platform where he stood, the people looking up to him with reverence and fear.
"My people!" Aron's voice boomed as he raised his glass to the crowd. The hall grew silent in anticipation. "We stand here today, on the first day of the new year, celebrating not just the passage of time but the birth of a new Germany, a new era, one forged by the blood of our enemies and the will of the people!"
The crowd erupted into applause and cheers. Erwin, standing at Aron's side, watched his brother's speech with pride. His cold gaze swept across the room, ever-watchful for any signs of dissent, but there was none. The room was firmly under Aron's control.
"This is just the beginning, my loyal followers. The German Reich will continue to expand. The people of Luxembourg, Netherlands, and Belgium will soon know their place in this grand vision. Together, we will ensure that the Reich's might is unmatched, that no nation dares to challenge us."
A thunderous cheer erupted from the crowd once more, but Aron's expression remained unchanged—calm, focused, as if every word had been calculated for maximum effect.
"We will unite all German-speaking peoples, and in time, we will rid this land of the remnants of monarchies and weakness. Under the banner of the NSPP, we shall create a new world order, one of strength, unity, and purpose!"
The speech continued as Aron spoke of further military expansion, the unshakable loyalty of his forces, and the commitment to eliminating any threats, both internal and external. He reminded the people of the revolution's roots—how the brothers had risen from nothing, had suffered, but now ruled a mighty empire.
As the speech came to a close, Aron lifted his glass once more, signaling the end of his speech.
"To the new year! To the German Reich!" he declared, and the room roared with applause and cheers once more.
As the festival raged on, the revelry continued throughout Berlin, with music, dancing, and performances that lasted well into the night. But even amidst the celebration, Aron was already thinking about the future—Luxembourg, Netherlands, and Belgium were next on his list. His eyes were set on further expansion. The party was simply a brief respite before the next stage in his grand vision for the German Reich.
The room erupted in a unified, thunderous cheer as Erwin Himmler's voice rang out. His words were a rallying cry, the declaration of a powerful future for the German Reich.
"All hail the Thousand Year Reich!"
The crowd, filled with high-ranking officials, military leaders, and loyal party members, roared in agreement. Their voices joined as one, affirming their unwavering loyalty to the Führer and the vision of eternal rule.
Aron, his face impassive, raised his glass again, his eyes sweeping over the room. He allowed himself a moment of satisfaction before lowering it. The cheers were not just for the man standing at the front of the room; they were for the Reich, for the order he had brought to a fractured world.
His vision was not just of a powerful empire, but one that would endure for generations. "The Thousand Year Reich," he repeated softly to himself, reflecting on the magnitude of his brother's words.
Erwin turned to Aron, his expression full of pride and determination. "We have created something that will outlast us all, brother. This empire... it will stand forever. The enemies of the Reich will crumble before us."
Aron nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving the gathering in front of him. But beneath his cool exterior, a fire burned—an unrelenting drive to ensure that the vision he and his brother had built would indeed become an unshakable reality.
"Yes," Aron finally said, his voice cutting through the room. "The Reich shall endure. We will make sure of it. And those who dare stand against us will know no mercy."
As the celebration continued, the weight of their power and the future of the German Reich stretched before them. Aron's thoughts were already on the next steps—Luxembourg, Netherlands, and Belgium awaited their fate.
The Thousand Year Reich was only just beginning.
The Meeting Room – January 3, 1776
The grand, heavily secured meeting room of Berlin's Palace was lined with marble walls and long wooden tables. The vast map of Europe that had been a constant companion of Aron's decisions now stood as a reminder of how far they had come—and how much more there was to claim.
As Aron entered the room, his cold eyes fixed on the table where the responses from Luxembourg, Netherlands, and Belgium were laid out. Erwin followed closely behind, his face unreadable but his posture exuding confidence. They were flanked by a team of high-ranking officials and military officers, each waiting for Aron's next command.
Aron's bodyguard, a loyal and battle-hardened soldier, stood at the back of the room, her posture rigid, before she leaned in and whispered in his ear.
"The responses from the three nations have arrived."
Aron nodded without emotion, his gaze moving to the letters on the table. The moment of truth had arrived. He took his seat at the head of the table, his eyes scanning each response, his mind already processing the implications of each one.
He motioned for one of his Ministers of Foreign Affairs to step forward. The Minister, a thin, sharp-eyed man, approached with the first response.
"Luxembourg has submitted its response, Führer," the Minister said, handing the letter to Aron. "They have agreed to join the German Reich, recognizing the Führer's leadership and pledging their allegiance to the Reich."
Aron's lips curled into a faint smile, but his eyes remained hard. "Luxembourg… a wise choice," he murmured, dismissing the letter. "Continue."
The Minister handed him the second letter, the Netherlands' response.
"The Netherlands, however, has rejected the ultimatum, Führer. They claim to maintain their sovereignty and independence, but they have also issued a veiled threat, stating that they will resist our attempts to annex them."
Aron's gaze darkened, his hand gripping the edge of the table. "So, they wish to challenge us." He leaned back in his chair, staring at the letter. "They will soon regret that decision. Prepare the army."
The Minister quickly moved aside as Aron took the third letter—Belgium's response.
"Belgium has remained silent, Führer," the Minister said, voice tense. "No response at all. They appear to be waiting for further developments, or perhaps they are trying to gauge our actions."
"A neutral stance," Aron said, his voice cold. "They will be treated as enemies. Prepare an invasion force. Show them that silence is not an option."
Erwin stepped forward, his voice low but decisive.
"Führer, the Netherlands may be a challenge. Their naval strength is considerable, and they have fortified their borders. It would be best to focus our forces there first, while we handle the rest of the territories."
Aron nodded, his decision clear. "Very well. We shall begin with the Netherlands. They shall be made an example for all who think they can defy the German Reich. Luxembourg will be integrated quickly. Belgium will face our wrath."
He turned to the military generals and strategists who stood at attention in the room.
"Prepare the armies for immediate action. We will march on the Netherlands, and we will take their capital. Make sure the message is clear to the world."
The generals nodded, their eyes reflecting both respect and a hint of fear. Aron's power was absolute, and they knew well that defiance was met with ruthless force.
Aron stood, turning to face his brother, Erwin, as the room began to fill with orders. "The world will soon understand the power of the Reich. Let them know that we are the force that will reshape Europe in our image."
As the meeting broke up, the tension was palpable. Luxembourg was already under their control, but the Netherlands and Belgium had made their choices. They would pay for their defiance, and the German Reich would grow even more powerful.
The room fell silent at Aron's command. His piercing gaze swept over the officials and military leaders, ensuring that each one understood the weight of his words.
"We will not wage war till June, is that understood?" Aron repeated, his voice unwavering.
The generals, advisers, and ministers exchanged brief glances before they all nodded in unison.
"Understood, Führer," one of the generals affirmed, his tone respectful but tense. The others followed suit, offering their quiet assent.
Aron leaned forward slightly, his fingers resting on the edge of the table as he spoke again, each word deliberate and precise.
"We shall give them time to consider their position," he said, his voice cold but filled with authority. "But make no mistake—when June arrives, our armies will move. We will strike with precision and overwhelming force. By then, our plans will be set in motion. The world will see the might of the German Reich."
Erwin, standing behind Aron, remained as still and composed as ever, his eyes scanning the room. He trusted his brother's judgment, knowing that patience would only increase the force of their inevitable strike.
"Prepare," Aron said, his tone firm and final. "In the coming months, we will strengthen our position, but when June arrives, we will unleash our power. Let our enemies think they have time. We will use this window to our advantage."
The room was silent, each individual fully aware that their roles in the upcoming campaign were critical. Plans would be made, supplies gathered, and alliances further solidified. The world would remain unaware of the coming storm, but when the Reich struck, it would be swift and decisive.
Aron's voice broke the silence again, this time softer but still filled with authority.
"June will mark the beginning of the next phase. We will show them who truly controls Europe."
The meeting room broke into activity as officials began to take notes and draft plans. The German Reich was already preparing for its next phase of expansion, and even though war would not begin until June, the machine was already in motion.
After the long day of work, Aron was returning to his room to rest and closed his door when his bodyguard was talking to some people. She, almost in her late twenties, was his personal bodyguard and from the Elite forces. She was treating the people coldly and arrogantly who wanted to meet them. One of them, being Major General was treated arrogantly as well as he was not wearing his uniform and was not recognised by the bodyguard, so the next day, in the morning in the training grounds, he met the bodyguard, this time he was in his full formals, his medals shining and he confronted the female soldier and strictly teach her a lesson in front of everyone.ChatGPT said:ChatGPTThe Training Grounds – Morning, January 4th, 1776
The early morning sun cast a golden glow over the training grounds, where rows of soldiers in full gear stood at attention, preparing for their daily drills. The air was crisp, and the grounds were lined with officers overseeing the rigorous exercises of the elite forces. Among them stood Aron's personal bodyguard, a striking woman in her late twenties, known for her cold demeanor and unwavering dedication. She commanded respect from the soldiers, and her reputation was one of ruthlessness.
But today, she would face a challenge unlike any before.
Major General Friedrich von Richter, a respected officer within the German Reich, entered the grounds. His sharp uniform, adorned with medals, gleamed in the sunlight. His reputation was well-known throughout the Reich, his leadership in the army's elite forces solidified by years of service. However, yesterday's encounter with the bodyguard had left him displeased. He would not let the matter go.
The soldiers stopped their drills as he walked onto the grounds. His presence alone was enough to silence the area. He had come not just to train but to address a personal grievance. Aron's bodyguard stood a few paces away, observing the soldiers with an indifferent air.
Friedrich strode up to her with deliberate steps, his posture rigid and full of authority. The other soldiers watched in silence, sensing that something important was about to unfold.
"Soldier," Friedrich's voice was sharp and commanding, carrying through the crisp morning air. "You may be a member of the elite forces, but you must learn respect. Yesterday, you treated a Major General as though he were a common man, simply because he was not in uniform. That behavior is not acceptable."
The bodyguard's eyes narrowed slightly, but she said nothing. She stood tall, seemingly unaffected by his words, her expression cold.
"You are here to protect Führer Aron, not to play the part of a gatekeeper to his personal audience. Your arrogance has no place in the Reich's military. I expect better from every soldier under my command." His voice was unwavering, each word filled with authority.
For a moment, silence fell. The bodyguard met his gaze without flinching, her eyes hard and unyielding.
"Do you think you can teach me a lesson, Major General?" she finally spoke, her tone measured but dripping with the same cold arrogance.
"I will teach you respect," Friedrich replied, his voice now stern but controlled. "In front of your fellow soldiers. Your conduct must be corrected for the good of the Reich."
Without waiting for a response, Friedrich took a step back and motioned for the soldiers to clear the area. "Prepare for a demonstration," he commanded. The soldiers quickly formed a circle around the two, eager to witness the confrontation.
The bodyguard, understanding the gravity of the situation, assumed a defensive stance. She had faced many challenges before, but this would be different. The Major General, with years of experience and a wealth of tactical knowledge, was not to be underestimated.
Friedrich's eyes were locked on hers as he made his first move, swift and precise. His open palm aimed directly at her chest, a demonstration of authority rather than a physical assault. But the bodyguard reacted quickly, dodging to the side with agility and grace, her movements like those of a trained warrior.
"Impressive," Friedrich said, stepping back to reassess her. "But you are not invincible."
He closed the gap quickly, feigning an attack to her left before twisting to strike from the right. This time, the bodyguard was caught off guard—though she parried his blow, it left her slightly off balance.
Friedrich pressed his advantage, taking the opportunity to deliver a sharp reprimand. "You think you can protect the Führer with such arrogance? You will never be able to safeguard him with such pride clouding your judgment."
The bodyguard gritted her teeth but didn't respond. She was a soldier, and she knew better than to engage in a verbal sparring match. Instead, she focused on his next move.
Friedrich continued to press the attack, each strike a lesson in discipline and humility. Finally, after several minutes of intense exchanges, the bodyguard stumbled back, her breath heavier than before.
"Enough!" Friedrich commanded, stepping away, his chest rising and falling with controlled breaths. He had proven his point. The soldiers around them were silent, their attention fully on the Major General and the bodyguard.
"You are a skilled fighter, no doubt," Friedrich said, his tone softening slightly. "But you need to learn that respect for rank and authority is just as vital. Without discipline, we will fall. The Reich will fall."
The bodyguard, though exhausted, stood tall once more. She knew the lesson was more than just a physical one—it was a test of her pride, her commitment, and her understanding of her role within the Reich.
"I understand, Major General," she said, her voice finally losing some of its cold edge. "I will adjust my conduct accordingly. The Reich will not fall under my watch."
Friedrich nodded, satisfied with her response, though he knew this lesson had only just begun.
"Good. Now, return to your duties. You have much to learn, but you have the potential to be one of the Reich's finest. Do not squander it."
As the soldiers began to disperse, the bodyguard remained standing at attention, her eyes now focused and resolved.
Aron's presence in her mind was unwavering. She had failed him in that moment, but she would not fail again. This lesson had been hard-won, but it would shape her into the protector she needed to be—one who could not only defend the Führer physically but also respect the structure that held the Reich together.
The soldier reported this behaviour of the Major General to the Fuhrer when she saw the opportunity that no one was around themChatGPT said:ChatGPTThe Meeting with the Führer
In the quiet stillness of Aron's study later that evening, as the weight of the day's military deliberations began to settle, his personal bodyguard seized the rare moment when he was alone. No officers, no advisers, just the two of them.
She stood in front of him, her expression still composed, but with a trace of something more—something that hinted at the internal conflict stirred by today's confrontation with Major General Friedrich von Richter.
"Führer," she began, her voice steady but carrying a layer of tension. "I must report an incident that occurred today on the training grounds. Major General von Richter... conducted a demonstration in front of the soldiers."
Aron, seated at his desk, barely lifted his eyes from the papers he was reviewing. He had long since become accustomed to hearing reports of military activities. But his bodyguard's tone caught his attention. He knew this was no routine report.
"A demonstration?" he asked, his voice calm, though his eyes narrowed slightly as he awaited more details.
The bodyguard stood rigid, her posture still as she continued. "Yes, Führer. He challenged me in front of the soldiers. I was forced into a confrontation with him. He taught me a lesson in discipline." Her eyes were steady, though they betrayed a faint flicker of frustration. "He made his point, but I was humiliated in front of the soldiers."
Aron looked up, his gaze now fully on her. He didn't speak for a moment, allowing the silence to stretch between them.
"Was he justified in his actions?" Aron asked, his voice low and unyielding, a leader's voice, not one for softness or appeasement.
She swallowed, the weight of the moment settling on her. "He was right in some aspects, Führer. I did not show proper respect to his rank yesterday. But... the way he handled it was... excessive. It was not simply a lesson in discipline. It was a public humiliation. A display of power that went beyond teaching me respect."
Aron leaned back in his chair, considering her words carefully. He didn't react immediately, allowing the silence to stretch for a few moments as his mind processed the information. Finally, he spoke, his voice calm but filled with the authority he had honed over years of commanding the Reich.
"Discipline and respect are vital. Without them, the Reich cannot function. But humiliation in front of the soldiers? That was a misstep by the Major General. We do not tolerate that kind of behavior from anyone under my command, no matter their rank."
He stood up from his desk and walked toward her, his presence imposing, but not aggressive. "You are a part of the elite forces. You have earned your place by skill and loyalty. But remember this: I cannot afford weakness in my closest circle. We do not let such matters of pride distract us. The Reich depends on us remaining united, focused."
The bodyguard nodded, her frustration from earlier slowly subsiding. "I understand, Führer. I will not let this incident define me. I will be stronger for it."
Aron's eyes softened ever so slightly, though he did not smile. "Good. I expect nothing less from you." His tone grew more decisive. "As for the Major General, we will deal with that issue when the time is right. He will understand the limits of his authority."
He walked back to his desk, his back turned, the conversation nearing its end. "In the meantime, keep your focus on the task at hand. We have more pressing matters to attend to. The nations of Europe are waiting for us to make our move."
"Understood, Führer," she replied, standing straighter now, the tension in her shoulders easing as she turned to leave.
As the door clicked shut behind her, Aron remained at his desk, contemplating the broader ramifications of what had just occurred. The Major General's behavior was problematic, but he had made his point: no one was above the Reich's system of discipline. If the Reich was to remain as the dominant force in Europe, those in power—whether high-ranking officers or his closest bodyguards—had to understand the lines they could not cross.
Aron knew that his Reich would only thrive if those under him respected the chain of command. The bodyguard's loyalty was unquestionable, but even she would need to adapt to the realities of leadership in this new world. And that included knowing when to challenge authority—and when to accept it.
The Ceremony – Berlin, January 6th, 1776
The grand military ceremony held in Berlin's central square was a display of power and precision, the shining ranks of soldiers and officers standing tall before Führer Aron and his highest-ranking advisers. The air was thick with anticipation as the soldiers, men and women alike, prepared to hear the words of their leader. The atmosphere was charged with a mixture of reverence and respect as the elite forces, including Aron's personal bodyguard, Lieutenant Sofia Monterouge, stood in formation.
Aron stood at the center, his posture straight, his presence commanding the attention of the assembled troops. His sharp gaze swept over the men and women of his military—each one aware of the significance of this moment. The Führer's voice echoed across the square as he began his speech, cutting through the crisp morning air.
"An officer who does not understand the limit of his authority, or who fails to respect the simple rules of the Army, is no officer at all," Aron's voice rang with absolute conviction, every word deliberate and sharp. His eyes scanned the crowd, his gaze landing on the Major General Friedrich von Richter, who stood amongst the ranks, his chest heavy with his medals, his expression unreadable.
"Discipline is the backbone of this army, the core of the Reich's strength," Aron continued, his tone unwavering. "And those who cannot adhere to these standards must be held accountable."
The soldiers stood still, the air growing thick with expectation. Aron's words were more than just a reprimand—they were a declaration that no one, not even the highest of officers, was beyond reproach in the Reich.
"Major General Friedrich von Richter," Aron called, his voice now ringing with authority, "You have shown a lack of restraint and discipline. I have seen this behavior from you in front of our soldiers. Such actions will not be tolerated in this army. As a result, I have decided to demote you."
The shock was palpable in the air. Major General von Richter stood rigid, his face betraying no emotion. His once-proud rank was being stripped from him before his peers. His punishment was swift and public—an unmistakable signal to all that power could be fleeting if one was not careful with how they wielded it.
"Effective immediately, you are demoted to the rank of Colonel." Aron's words were like a strike, as sharp as any blade.
The crowd shifted uneasily, the weight of the punishment hanging heavy in the air. But Aron's voice did not falter.
"However," Aron continued, "This army will also recognize those who exemplify the very best of what we stand for. Lieutenant Sofia Monterouge, who has shown exceptional bravery and discipline, will be promoted to the rank of Captain today."
A murmur rippled through the ranks as Sofia Monterouge stepped forward. Her uniform was immaculate, and despite the tension that had marked the ceremony, she remained calm and composed. Her eyes met Aron's, and a flicker of pride shone in her gaze. She had proven herself to him—and now, the rest of the Reich would know it.
Aron turned his attention to her as she approached. "Lieutenant Monterouge has proven that she understands the essence of discipline. Her loyalty to the Reich, her protection of our Führer, and her commitment to the cause have earned her this promotion. Captain Monterouge, you are an example to all in the Reich. I am proud to elevate you to this rank."
As Aron handed her the new insignia, the crowd erupted in applause, their respect for her clear. She saluted him sharply, her new rank solidifying her place among the Reich's elite.
With the ceremony now complete, Aron's voice rang out once more, resonating through the square, firm and filled with authority.
"Let this be a reminder to all who serve this army," he declared. "In the Reich, there is no place for arrogance, for pride without discipline. We are bound by a singular mission—to protect the Reich, to protect the Führer, and to expand our power. Those who cannot serve with honor will find themselves relegated to the ranks of the unworthy."
The Führer turned and began to walk toward the stage, his presence a testament to the strength of his resolve. His voice carried one final time over the square.
"For the Reich, for the Führer. Long live the Thousand-Year Reich!"
The soldiers and officers stood in unison, saluting with unwavering loyalty as the Führer moved toward the exit. Major General von Richter remained at the back, his demotion weighing on him, while Sofia Monterouge stood proud, her future now assured.
As the ceremony came to a close, the Reich had been reminded of the very real consequences of disobedience, while new leaders were born from the crucible of loyalty and discipline. This marked yet another day in the rise of Aron's Reich, where power, control, and loyalty to the Führer reigned supreme.
As the ceremony ended, the Reich's elite soldiers and officers gradually dispersed, each returning to their duties. Friedrich von Richter, now stripped of his former title, stood among the crowd, his pride wounded but his fury smoldering beneath the surface. He cast a vengeful glance at Sofia Monterouge, the woman who had not only risen to the rank he had lost, but had also become a symbol of the Führer's favor.
Sofia, standing with the elite bodyguards behind her, met his gaze coolly, unflinching. She was used to this—a world of power, ambition, and those who saw only weakness in others' strength. Friedrich's resentment was palpable, but it mattered little to her. She had earned her place through loyalty and discipline, principles that, despite her earlier challenges, had brought her to the very top.
Aron, now moving with his bodyguards, was oblivious to the silent war simmering between his two subordinates. His focus was already on the next phase of his plans, the ongoing expansion of the Reich, and the fine balance between managing those in power and ensuring loyalty was maintained.
"Come, Sofia," Aron said, his voice steady, the weight of his leadership evident. The words were less of an invitation and more of a command. Sofia, unwavering, stepped forward to join him. The other elite bodyguards flanked them, a symbol of the Reich's ever-watchful eyes.
As they made their way out of the ceremonial grounds, Aron could feel the tensions in the air. The Major General's gaze burned into the back of his mind, but for now, there was nothing to do about it. Friedrich had made his choice to act out of pride, and now he would learn the hard way what that truly meant.
In the days that followed, the Reich returned to its usual routines, but the undercurrent of Friedrich von Richter's defiance was not easily forgotten. He would no longer be a Major General, but his ambitions had not died. And if history was any teacher, men like him would always find a way to seek revenge. However, for now, the Führer and his inner circle remained unshaken, poised to continue their path toward dominance in Europe.
Aron knew the importance of keeping the elite close, but even closer still were those whose loyalty had been tested and proven. Sofia Monterouge, for all her strength and discipline, was a reminder to all that power could be fleeting. But for now, her place at his side was secure.