
It’s a Monday. Berlin is unrecognizable. The once-proud capital of the Third Reich is now a pulverized hellscape, hammered into submission by relentless Soviet artillery. The Red Army is pushing through the rubble with a fury born not only of war but of vengeance. And at the center of this ruin—thirty feet below the surface in a reinforced concrete maze—the architect of this nightmare is living out the last hours of his life like a cornered animal.
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