Europe had lost its mind. The leaders, drunk on nostalgia and arrogance, spoke in grandiose speeches of honor, duty, and sacrifice. They whispered of the past—of wars fought and won, of empires that once stood tall. But they had forgotten the cost. The lessons of history, written in blood and ruin, had faded into the background of their ambition.
It began with skirmishes, border disputes that escalated into something far worse. The politicians, safe in their palaces, fanned the flames while the young were sent to die. Cities that had stood for centuries crumbled in days. The youth, eager and misled, marched to the front lines, only to be swallowed by the machine of war. Their bodies littered the fields, and the rivers ran red.
The world watched in horror as Europe burned. The great capitals, once beacons of art and culture, became graveyards. And yet, the madness did not stop. The old powers clung to their delusions, convinced that victory was just beyond the horizon. But victory never came—only more death, more destruction.
It wasn’t long before the world was plunged into darkness. Nations collapsed under the weight of war, economies shattered, and famine crept through the land like a slow-moving plague. The once-proud continent was a wasteland, its people reduced to scavengers and soldiers.
The only path forward was surrender. To lay down arms, to accept the reality of their ruin, and to rebuild from the ashes. But would they come to their senses? Or would they fight to the last man, blinded by the ghosts of a past that had long since turned to dust?
Time would tell. But time was running out.
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