01 - The Beginning of the Dream

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1926. Berlin, Germany

The sounds of hammers pounding into metal and wood resounded around the bustling streets.

When one looks at them, they can see multitudes of men, both young and old, coordinating to build something.

Carpentry and Construction.

All of them have different roles. Some men stood tall, steadfast, and resolute, ensuring the foundation was solid and unwavering. Others were engrossed in handling massive slabs of wood and heavy stones, their sinewy muscles straining as they carefully maneuvered each piece into place. They understood the importance of precision and alignment, delicately adjusting the position of each material to ensure seamless integration within the overall design.

Some workers took on the role of helpers, offering their tools and nails to their fellow colleagues. They moved with grace and agility, anticipating the needs of others and extending their hands in support. Some took the hammer itself and nailed the wooden materials to each other in order to build something.

All in all, everything is synchronized and coordinated.

"Scheiße!" exclaimed a young man, though not as loudly as one might expect. His appearance could be described as quintessentially German: dark-haired, with a chiseled face and a well-built body. He didn't particularly stand out among others, but his appearance was decent enough.

However, what set him apart was his expression. Despite swearing out in pain after accidentally hitting his finger that was holding the nail with his own hammer, his face remained absolutely stone-cold.

"Oi! What's the matter, man?" a young yet masculine voice asked him. The appearance of the young man who approached him could be described as the embodiment of the ideal Germanic person. He stood tall, with piercing blue eyes that sparkled with intensity and his blonde hair waving in the air.. His milky-white skin radiated a healthy glow, accentuating his chiseled face, while his muscular physique exuded strength and power.

"...Nothing to be concerned about. Just had a little mishap with the hammer," the dark-haired young man replied, his voice laced with a cold tone.

Apathetic and cold.

"Hah! As long as it wasn't your head that got smacked! That would be quite a loss, especially considering your intellect!" the blonde-haired young man quipped, his tone filled with humor.

"…Keep working Ehrlen. Also, mind your own business will you?" The dark-haired young man replied. Though his tone is cold, there is warmth in those. After all, the blonde-haired young man, Ehrlen, was his long-time friend.

"All right, all right, Herr Vought. Wouldn't want your pants to get all twisted up under there," Ehrlen replied once again, his tone filled with playful banter.

The dark-haired young man simply shook his head at his friend's banter, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

And so, the two young men carried on with their laborious work, toiling away for minimum wage. Armed with their hammers and nails, they continued their work.

(V)

"Arbeiters! Time for lunch!" The leader of the workers, draped in his own working attire, announced to the workers.

The workers, tired from their labors, shouted in celebration.

The two young men stood up from their stations, putting down their tools and walked to the sidelines in order to eat.

Then, they brought out their packed lunches.

"What do you have Frederick?" Ehrlen, the blonde-haired young man, asked his friend.

"….The usual gruel. Hard bread." The dark-haired young man, Frederick, replied. His tone listless and cold.

"Well same! Though to be honest…We do not really have much of a choice there." The cheerful tone of the blonde-haired young man gradually disappeared as he stated his words. There was a tinge of disappointment in his voice, acknowledging the limited options they had when it came to their meals.

Poverty.

Frederick gazed at his friend with cold eyes, his expression can't be determined, as he took a bite of the hard, stale bread that had likely been sitting for days.

"...The economy is in tatters. There is no more Reich. The government is riddled with degenerate politicians amassing wealth and fucking boys. Fathers selling their daughters for few Rentenmarks. Political violence is on the rise. It is inevitable. We are the lost generation," Frederick stated, his voice laced with a cold, unyielding tone as he continued to chew on the hard bread.

Ehrlen looked at his friend in silence for a moment. Then, he started chewing his bread.

"You know, you're such a damn pessimist. You're going to grow old way too soon," Ehrlen retorted, his voice lightening up once again, resuming his cheerful demeanor.

"...You're one to talk, Ehrlen. You know it just as well as I do. After all, the Great War claimed our fathers before we even learned to walk properly." Frederick responded, his tone filled with a mix of resignation and bitterness.

Generation of Men lost to time.

"...Even so, that's not an excuse to be sad bastards. After all, we're alive, aren't we, my friend?" Ehrlen's voice maintained its cheerfulness as he posed the rhetorical question.

Frederick stared at his friend. The expression in his eyes changed a little.

"...Tch. You're truly delusional, you know that?" Frederick muttered, his voice filled with skepticism, as he continued to chew on the tough bread.

"Hahaha! Who do you think I am!? I am Ehrlen Schwarz, the future Hero of the German Volk! With my looks and skills, I will put even General Moltke to shame!" Ehrlen exclaimed, his voice filled with exuberance. In an instant, he rose from his seat, striking a theatrical pose with both hands raised, as he proudly boasted before his friend.

Frederick, once again, maintained his emotionless gaze as he observed the flamboyant antics of his friend, all the while chewing on his hard bread.

And he continued to stare...

"Oi! What's with that look! Don't you believe in me!? You're my friend goddamnit!" Ehrlen, as usual, bantered with his friend.

"No, I just feel like your dream is a bit too... enthusiastic, so to speak. I mean, we can't even afford proper continuous education," Frederick responded, his tone remaining cold and matter-of-fact.

"That doesn't matter! Whether it's on hell or highwater, a man's dream must never die! Even if you were born a sewer rat, as long as you breathe, even that sewer rat can become a mighty Baron!" Ehrlen declared emphatically, spreading his arms theatrically and infusing his words with undeniable passion.

Frederick stared at his friend speaking his passionate words.

"After all... for men like us... our dreams are all we have left," Ehrlen murmured softly, his tone becoming subdued compared to his previous exuberance.

"…" Frederick simply stared at his friend. Then, he nodded his head in acknowledgment.

At that, Ehrlen's eyes suddenly lit up, a spark of renewed determination shining within them.

"That's my dream—to be a revered General of the German Volk! For that, I will never stop working and toiling!"

"...But our nation doesn't have a proper standing army. How can you become a general without a proper army?" Frederick inquired, his voice laced with curiosity, challenging Ehrlen's grand aspirations.

"Eh... That doesn't matter. It will be answered soon. I can sense it in the air, you know? The impending events. There will be a great upheaval for our great nation. Germany will regain its strength, as it did decades ago," Ehrlen declared with unwavering determination.

"Hah! And with whom will you side then? The Communists? The Conservatives? Liberals? Socialists? National Socialists?" Frederick asked his hot-blooded friend, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

"Heh! Whoever offers me the opportunity to become a great general! I will seize it with open arms!" Ehrlen proclaimed, raising his thumb in a confident gesture and beaming at Frederick.

"...Well, anyway, it's your dream. I won't intrude upon it," Frederick responded, his tone steady as he continued to chew on his nearly consumed bread.

In that moment, Ehrlen's gaze intensified, his scrutinizing eyes locking onto Frederick. The unexpected scrutiny caught Frederick off guard, and he couldn't help but express his surprise.

"...What?" the dark-haired stoic young man asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Frederick... What is your dream, anyway?" Ehrlen finally asked, his voice filled with genuine curiosity and interest.

"..." Frederick fell into silence, his gaze fixed on the ground as he pondered.

"No... You don't need to hear it. It's a silly thing anyway. I will grow out of it soon," Frederick replied with a touch of coldness and apathy, deflecting Ehrlen's curiosity.

"Oh, come on! There must be something, right? You, Frederick Vought, a man with titanic intelligence, have no dream? Do you think I'm that foolish?" Ehrlen retorted, his voice tinged with petulance. It was clear that he was not pleased with Frederick's avoidance.

"...No, forget it. We still have work to—" Frederick began to stand, clearly attempting to evade the conversation. But Ehrlen interrupted him, unwilling to let him escape.

"My friend, you can say it. I promise I will listen, and I will not tell anyone about it," Ehrlen asserted, his tone serious and sincere.

"Really?" Frederick responded skeptically, a tinge of doubt in his voice. "I mean, that's not what happened with Frau Claudia."

"Oh, come on! That's a different matter! This time, it's a man-to-man talk," Ehrlen insisted.

Frederick glanced at his friend, contemplating his words. He let out a deep sigh, realizing that Ehrlen wouldn't easily relent.

"Fine," Frederick finally relented, his voice tinged with resignation. He settled back into his seat, ready to share a part of himself that he had guarded closely.

Ehrlen's gaze softened, an expression of gratitude and understanding crossing his face.

"Did you read the epic of the Iliad? The one written by that Greek poet, Homer?" Frederick began.

"Not entirely, but I've heard bits of it during my early secondary schooling," Ehrlen replied.

Frederick nodded before continuing, "That epic is the one that ignited this grandiose dream of mine. In fact, I believe I have completely memorized some of the verses."

Ehrlen nodded and remained silent.

"The grand setting of men and mortals... The rich characters like Achilles, Agamemnon, Hector, Helen, and Paris... The romances and battles alike... The grand intervention of the pagan gods... It was vivid to me," Frederick stated, and Ehrlen listened intently.

"The rage of Achilles, the folly of Paris and Helen, the vanity of Agamemnon, and of course... The Trojan War," Frederick continued.

"The Trojan War was the best part for me. In that war, heroes emerged like mustard seeds! Diomedes, Hector, Odysseus, Ajax, Penthesilea, Patroclus, and of course, Achilles…" Frederick said, his voice losing its usual coldness and gaining a touch of passion.

Ehrlen nodded and attentively listened, being a good friend.

"One of my favorite characters in that epic is Achilles. Why? Because Achilles, despite being a flawed man, perfectly represents what a classical hero should be. Strong! Beautiful! Courageous! Arrogant! And above all... an inspiration," Frederick said, and a smile appeared on his face.

"In what way is Achilles inspirational?" Ehrlen asked with genuine curiosity.

"Because Achilles imposed his will upon the unforgiving world, he was the supreme individual. Yes, he possessed courage and strength, but more than that, he had the will—the will to push forward and attain glory, despite being flawed and ground down by the world and the gods themselves. He embraced life itself, extinguishing his own life for eternal glory," Frederick continued his explanation.

"Because, for me, the ability to impose one's will upon the world through his own individuality and strength is what a true hero means. It is the essence of rising above the primal beast within men and resisting degeneration. Achilles, in his embodiment of these qualities, inspired men to resist becoming beasts themselves. He inspired them to transcend the limits of their humanity." the dark-haired young man continued his explanation.

"...And how does it relate to your dream?" Ehrlen inquired, puzzled by the connection.

Frederick maintained his gaze, signaling his friend to allow him to continue.

"The Age of Heroes was an era when men dared to transcend their limitations, to rise above the primal degeneracy lurking within their souls. Heroes emerged to guide humanity's ascent towards greater heights—Achilles, Herakles, Siegfried, and, of course, Jesus Christ. These heroes did not appear by the command of higher beings or divine intervention; they simply arose, as if to steer mankind away from its impending downfall," Frederick explained, his voice icy and resolute.

"But then, the Age of Heroes came to an end. No more heroes graced the world. The epoch drew to a close with the crucifixion of Jesus Christ himself, perhaps marking the final act of true heroism—a continuous source of inspiration and eternal values. Yet, as we all know, without guides, humanity descended into degeneration..." Frederick's voice grew colder.

Ehrlen stared at his friend, his expression filled with disbelief.

"Oh, not in terms of technology, of course! But men themselves degenerated. The evidence lies in the Great War and the wretched state in which we find ourselves," Frederick declared.

"What do you mean?" Ehrlen questioned, seeking clarification.

"Tell me, in this wretched squalor that engulfs us, does anyone possess the audacity to rise as a hero? Does anyone dare to transcend the pitiful bounds of their own human limitations? In the chaos of the Great War, was there a single figure worth gazing upon, a beacon of inspiration? In this wretched society we inhabit, can we find any higher values worth cherishing beyond the base instincts of consumption and destruction? Or have the feeble minds of men succumbed to the decayed collective ideologies that hold them in thrall?" Frederick stated with a rising anger in his tone.

"…What do you mean?" Ehrlen asked once more.

"….There are no more heroes, Ehrlen. Not a single one. We have monarchs, princesses, aristocrats, intellectuals, and ideologues, but not a single hero. No Achilles has emerged," Frederick spoke quietly, his voice carrying an icy edge.

Ehrlen stared at his friend, a mixture of confusion and dawning comprehension evident on his face.

"I cannot bear to witness humanity's descent into darkness and degeneration without a guiding force, Ehrlen. If the Age of Heroes will not come naturally…then I will forge it myself," Frederick declared suddenly, his tone resolute enough to cut through the hardest of steel.

"W-what?" Ehrlen stammered, clearly taken aback and struggling to grasp his friend's words.

"That is my dream, Ehrlen—to usher in the Age of Heroes once more," Frederick stated with unwavering conviction.

"A-are you serious?" Ehrlen asked incredulously, his mind grappling with the seemingly outlandish idea.

Frederick maintained his unwavering gaze, calmly finishing the last bite of his bread.

"Very serious. But let's assume, for the sake of argument, that your dream somehow has any sort of feasibility. How would you even begin to achieve it? You're talking about fantasy here! Where would you even start?" Ehrlen demanded, seeking an explanation from his friend.

"…" Frederick fell silent for a moment, closing his eyes to gather his thoughts. When he spoke again, his words carried a weight of conviction.

"Friedrich Nietzsche proclaimed that 'man is a rope stretched between the animal and the Übermensch.' In our current age, it is evident that the animal predominates over the Übermensch. If the animal prevails, humanity will succumb to primal degeneration. But if the Übermensch triumphs, a Golden Age shall emerge," Frederick explained to his friend.

Ehrlen listened attentively, absorbing Frederick's words in contemplative silence.

"If the Übermensch is outnumbered, then the solution is simple: create more Übermensch. These beings of superior will and boundless inspiration shall serve as guardians of humanity, driving it towards the Golden Age and transcending its limitations."

"…" Ehrlen stared at Frederick, his mind grappling with the magnitude of his friend's vision, questioning the sanity of it all.

"That is where I will begin, Ehrlen. By creating the necessary Übermensch for the Golden Age. To forge a New Achilles," Frederick declared with unwavering resolve.

"…Wow," Ehrlen simply uttered, his astonishment evident.

"Tch! Just as I suspected! Merely the childish dream of a fool!" Frederick responded with a cold and petulant tone, disappointment flickering across his face.

"No, no, no! Don't think that way! It's your dream, and I won't judge you for it. In fact, my dream is quite insane too…just not on the same scale as yours," Ehrlen said with a smile, attempting to reassure his friend.

"…" Frederick glanced at Ehrlen, his expression softened.

"If that truly is your dream, then I will support you wholeheartedly! As a man, it would be shameful for me to ridicule another man's grand aspirations!" Ehrlen proclaimed theatrically, gesturing emphatically.

"…Pft!" Frederick couldn't help but smile, a rare sight for his stoic countenance.

This moment of levity was interrupted by Ehrlen's boisterous laughter.

"Hahahaha! You laughed! It's been far too long since I've seen you laugh!"

"Shut up!" Frederick retorted, his smile lingering.

Eventually, Ehrlen's laughter subsided, and he looked earnestly at Frederick, speaking with solemnity.

"You will usher in the Age of Heroes, and I will become the Heroic General of the German Volk! I swear upon Jesus Christ, my Lord and Savior, and to my parents that I will achieve my dream, no matter the cost! Now, swear it too," Ehrlen stated with unwavering determination.

"Do I really need to—" Frederick attempted to protest, but was swiftly interrupted.

"Yes, you need to! If you do not swear upon Jesus Christ and your parents, there is a possibility that you may slack off in pursuing your dream!" Ehrlen retorted.

"…Alright, alright! I swear upon Jesus Christ and my parents that I will achieve my dream of ushering in the Age of Heroes," Frederick conceded.

"No matter the cost," Ehrlen added.

"…No matter the cost," Frederick affirmed, completing his vow to heaven and earth.

"HAHAHAHA! Now that it's settled, let's get back to work, shall we? We need those Rentenmarks for our dreams, after all!" Ehrlen said, resuming his enthusiastic stride.

Frederick watched his friend depart for work, then turned his gaze skyward.

His eyes grew frigid and absolutely cold.

"Yes…no matter the cost. The ends… justify the means."

And so, Frederick Vought committed himself fully to the pursuit of his dream.

(V)

And so, this is the dream of Frederick Vought. Though we all know how it ended.

Also, the chapter for the main story is coming soon.