Chapter Content
The iron gates of Potsdam's palace swung inward, their hinges giving that low, familiar groan of old metal forced to obey.
The convoy entered like a column returning to a fortress—black Muscle Motors A-Class at the center, escort cars tucked close, Eternal Guard riders and foot detail moving with the silent rhythm of men who had learned to distrust peace. Snow clung to the stone walls and bare branches like powdered sugar, softening the sharpness without truly hiding it.
Oskar's car rolled to a smooth stop at the foot of the steps.
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