The skies over Stuwerviertel were dark and heavy, casting a grim shadow over the district as if nature itself sensed the impending turmoil. Early that morning, reporters and cameramen had started setting up along the narrow streets, eager to capture every moment of the day's confrontation. Whispers echoed through Stuwerviertel's alleys, rumors growing with each passing hour.
Inside the club, a tense silence filled the air. Georg had ordered the club and all nearby establishments closed, gathering everyone inside to prepare for whatever lay ahead. The club's vast dance floor was occupied by worried faces, some huddled in small groups, others lingering by the bar. The faint clinking of glasses as drinks were poured added a nervous rhythm to the otherwise quiet room.
Karl, the club's long-time bartender, leaned against the bar, eyes dark with concern as he looked at Georg. "I'm worried about you, Captain," he said, voice low. "This is dangerous business, and we don't know how far they'll go. If things get bad, you can leave—you don't need to stay here for us."
Across from Karl, Lilian placed a hand on Georg's shoulder. Georg had become a brotherly figure to her, reminding her of her family she'd long been separated from. "Karl's right, Georg," she added softly. "We can handle this. Just say the word, and we'll cover for you."
Georg scoffed, slamming his empty glass on the counter. "Run away? Me?" He stood, running a hand through his hair in agitation. "This is our territory, not theirs! They think they can waltz in and make demands—throw us all out?" He began pacing, casting fiery glances at those around him. His voice held a defiant edge. "If they expect us to back down, they're dead wrong."
Lilian watched him, worry plain in her eyes. "But Georg, you're not like us," she said, her voice filled with a quiet urgency. "We're used to this kind of trouble. You... you're not. And they'll be after you first. Once things turn chaotic, there's no telling what they'll do."
Georg stopped, his hands on his hips as he looked at her, brows drawn together. "Are you seriously thinking of backing out?" His frustration was clear, but Karl quickly shook his head.
"No, Captain, it's not that," Karl said firmly. "We're just as eager to stand our ground. But we're not blind to what could happen if things go south." He leaned in, voice low, as if not wanting to scare the others. "Big Boy and Marie de Sachelles—well, they've been sharpening their blades for you. If those protesters so much as touch you, those two will go mad."
Lilian nodded in agreement, her gaze unwavering. "We don't want to give them any more reason to shut us down. You know they'll use any excuse they can."
Georg sighed in frustration, dropping back onto his seat. He picked up the refilled glass of whiskey Karl had poured for him and threw it back in a single gulp, the amber liquid warming him as he swallowed his frustration. "Fine," he muttered, slamming the glass down with a resigned grimace. "If that's what everyone thinks is best, then I'll stay out of sight."
Karl gave him a small, approving nod, filling his glass again. "Good man," he said quietly. "We need you, Georg, but we need you alive."
As Georg looked into his glass, he felt the weight of the responsibility settle even heavier on his shoulders.
⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻
The procession moved solemnly through the narrow streets, their footsteps echoing against the cold cobblestone. Father Cohen led them with steady determination, his eyes fixed straight ahead, never wavering. The cross he held seemed to glow in the dim afternoon light, a beacon guiding them toward Stuwerviertel's infamous boundaries. Behind him, Frau Lulu and Frau Luttenberger kept their chins high, whispering among themselves and occasionally glancing back to ensure everyone was still in formation.
Maria felt her heart beating rapidly, but the rhythmic motion of the rosary beads in her hands calmed her. She repeated the prayers in her mind, finding a strange serenity amid the anticipation. Frau Lulu turned to her, giving her a reassuring nod, as if sensing her nerves.
"Are you ready, Maria?" Frau Lulu's voice was low, meant just for her.
Maria took a deep breath, nodding as she replied, "Yes, I am." Her voice was soft yet steady, the slight tremor of unease now replaced by a sense of resolve. She reminded herself that the mission wasn't to bring hostility but rather to invoke change—a change that would help souls, not harm them.
As they approached the edge of Stuwerviertel, Maria could feel the weight of her mission settle into her bones. The dim streets and crumbling facades loomed over them, casting long shadows that seemed to test her resolve. She tightened her grip on the rosary, feeling its cool beads press into her palms, a comforting reminder of her purpose.
The others in the Alliance seemed to regard the district with disdain, whispering to one another with wary glances and pursed lips. She could sense their distaste for the neighborhood—how they viewed it as a blight that must be purged. But Maria saw it differently. To her, this was not a place beyond saving. It was filled with people, each carrying their own burdens, perhaps lost, perhaps hardened, but not irredeemable.
She thought of the Captain, the man she'd been hearing so much about. Rumor painted him as a ringleader of vice, someone who actively worked against their values. Yet she refused to believe he was beyond salvation. If I can just reach him, she thought, show him that there's a path back to grace...
Taking a steadying breath, Maria reminded herself to bridge the gap between them and offer a hand, not a threat. If I lead with compassion, perhaps he will listen.
Frau Luttenberger nudged her, bringing her back to the present. "Maria," she murmured, her tone laden with skepticism, "are you sure you can handle this? The people here... they're not like us."
"I'm certain," Maria replied, her voice steady. "They are exactly like us in ways we may not see. And that's why I'm here—to remind them, and perhaps us, of that truth."
The others exchanged glances, some doubtful, some curious. But Maria didn't let it deter her. Instead, she took a step forward, her heart brimming with hope. In her mind, she repeated her silent prayer for strength. I have confidence in me. Somehow, I will impress them. I will be firm but kind.