Hours after the cup brothers had announced the devil's defeat, Inkwell Isle was still alight in celebration. Baroness von Bonbon provided enough sweets to give the entire population tummy aches, Hilda Berg decorated the sky with stars, and people danced to the swing band until their feet were raw. On the outskirts of the third Isle, however, the mood wasn't nearly as merry. Werner Werman sat on his robot cat's head, absentmindedly running his fingers through its synthetic fur.
The soldier had known it was a mistake to sell his soul to the devil. If his family had been alive to see his deal, they would have scolded him enough to make his ears ring.
But they weren't alive. That's what had led to the deal in the first place.
The war devoured everything he had ever known—his entire litter, every friend he had, even his hometown. Yet for some reason, he had survived, chewed up and spat out and left all alone.
Werner tried to move on, he really did. Moving to Inkwell Isle was supposed to be his fresh start. Clean streets, bright buildings still standing, citizens who had hope in their eyes...it had looked like heaven. Then there was Werner, with his choppy English and his scars and his helmet that he couldn't take off, not even for a second because what if the bombs started falling again, Gott in Himmel
He didn't belong.
All Werner wanted was a piece of his home. Like every other malcontent resident of Inkwell Isle, he eventually wound up in the devil's casino. The devil had instructed him to build a jail cell, and he did, installing it in the mouth of a giant robot cat because it just seemed to fit all too well. For the price of Werner's own broken soul, the devil had plucked a few spirits from the underworld and thrown them into the mechanical prison. They weren't even soldiers Werner had known well, just some random faces from his regimen.
Werner had cried for hours afterward, surrounded by the wraiths as they offered what comfort they could. Their ghostly embraces chilled him to the bone, but after spending so much time starved of any friendly touch, he stayed in their arms until his teeth chattered.
After Cuphead and Mugman announced they had burnt all the contracts, Werner had expected the wraiths to be gone. It turned out, however, that no one's deals had actually broken; they had all simply been excused from paying. Most of the residents had been overjoyed by the news that they could have their cake and eat it, too.
Werner, on the other hand, couldn't share in the sentiment. He had spent every moment since his deal wracked with guilt over keeping the spirits trapped on Earth. When he had handed Cuphead his contract, Werner felt a strange sense of relief. At least he was paying for his sins.
Of course, nothing in his life could ever be that easy.
The soldier let his hand wander to a button hidden behind the cat's ear. With a deep breath, he pushed it, causing the robot's mouth to open and reveal prison bars. Werner produced a heavy iron key from his pocket and with a trembling hand, turned it in the lock. The cell swung open. A blast of bitter cold surrounded Werner, and he realized that the wraiths had surrounded him in one last hug. Tears pricked at his eyes as he whispered, "Es tut mir leid, es tut mir schrecklich leid."
All too soon, the spirits slipped from his grip and rose into the sky, leaving Werner alone once more. He raised his hand to his forehead in a salute before roughly wiping it across his eyes. Staring up at the stars, the soldier stood in silence for what felt like hours. Suddenly, a voice rang out from behind him.
"Oh finally, I've been trying to find you all day!"
Werner whipped around to see a short, balding man in a lab coat running toward him, calling out, "the young cup brothers mentioned battling against an automaton in the shape of a—" The man skidded to a stop in front of Werner and the cat, gaping.
"Oh my."
The soldier opened his mouth to ask what was happening, but before he could get a word in, the man started babbling at him excitedly.
"This is incredible! I would have never guessed it isn't organic—the musculature looks so graceful! Would you be willing to let me look at your blueprints? My own creations always seem to end up moving stiffly."
"...Mein 'blueprints?' Um, please, can you more slowly speak?"
A sheepish look appeared on the man's face. He spoke again, less quickly but still with obvious excitement.
"Oh, excuse me, I didn't mean to be so rude! I was just excited to meet you."
"Me? Why?"
"I heard about your cat there! I myself am also interested in robotics, so I wanted to speak with you. My name is Dr. Arthur Kahl."
At that point, the man—Dr. Kahl, Werner supposed—held out a hand. Hesitantly, the soldier reached out and grasped it.
"I am named Werner Werman."
"Well, it's great to meet you, Mr. Werman! I'm sorry again for letting my enthusiasm overwhelm me, but I've never had anyone to talk to before! About robots, I mean."
Werner considered the scientist before him; underneath his enthusiasm, there was an awkwardness radiating from Dr. Kahl. He immediately felt endeared to the shorter man.
Loneliness was something he too knew well.
"You would like now the cat's plans to see?" Werner asked. "I will show."
"That would be wonderful!"
Werner led Kahl to his shack, the cat following closely behind. Conversation and laughter echoed through the walls of Werner's home for hours as the pair discussed invention after invention. Finally, in the wee hours of the dawn, Dr. Kahl prepared to depart.
"You'll have to come visit my lab tomorrow, Mr. Werman! I have so many new ideas I want to share with you!"
"I will gladly come. Good day, Dr. Kahl. And...thank you."
As he shut the door, Werner thought to himself that perhaps, he could be happy in Inkwell Isle after all.

A/N: I decided not to write out Werner's accent phonetically because it was too hard to read, but I did try to convey his broken English in the grammar of his dialogue.
Translation of German Phrases:
"Gott in Himmel" means "God in heaven," an exclamation similar to "oh my God!"
"Es tut mir leid, es tut mir schrecklich leid" means "I'm sorry, I'm dreadfully sorry."
(So glad those seven years of studying German didn't go to waste.)