Germany teeters on the precipice of annihilation. In the West, the merciless advance of the Allies threatens the Ruhr, Germany’s industrial lifeblood, choking it off from essential resources. In the East, the Red Army, like an avalanche, obliterates German defenses, sweeping through hundreds of kilometers in a matter of weeks. The monumental failure of Hitler’s “Fortress Towns” strategy unfolds, leaving the path to Berlin ominously vulnerable.
 
INT. FÜHRERBUNKER – DAY
 
An unrelenting deluge of grim reports floods the bunker. Maps strewn about show large swaths of lost territories. Resources dwindle, mirrored by the dimming bunker lights. The once robust defenses crumble, much like the morale within these cold, concrete walls. Hitler, his hand trembling subtly as he grips the phone, barks out orders, demanding counterattacks on both fronts.
 
HITLER (on the phone) Every man, every gun, now! Push them back!
 
INT. EASTERN FRONT – DAY
 
German soldiers, their uniforms hanging off their emaciated bodies, try to follow Hitler’s orders. Their faces, etched with exhaustion and defeat, tell a tale of a losing battle. Soviet forces press on, an indomitable wave that swallows everything in its path.
 
INT. FÜHRERBUNKER – DAY
 
As each failed attack and missed deadline is reported, Hitler’s agitation mounts. His eyes, bloodshot and wild, dart across the room. Unbeknownst to him, some of his orders echo into the void, aimed at divisions and armies that exist only as ghostly figures on paper.
 
INT. WESTERN FRONT – DAY
 
Allied forces march on, their boots pounding on the captured grounds, seizing vital resources. German soldiers, their faces bloodied and grimy, retreat in disarray. Behind them, the vacant stares of civilians fleeing their homes haunt the empty streets.
 
INT. FÜHRERBUNKER – DAY
 
Hitler’s generals, their lips pressed into thin lines of fear, remain silent. They dare not challenge his increasingly unrealistic orders.
 
GENERAL 1 (whispers to another general) We’d end up before a firing squad if he knew the truth.
 
The Führerbunker, once a fortress of German power, now reeks of desperation. The scent of fear, as real as the damp, musty smell of the underground bunker, claws at each person within. Outside, the relentless march of the Allies and the Red Army echoes ominously, a symphony of impending doom. The Third Reich, once a symbol of might and power, totters on the brink of oblivion, pushed ever closer by Hitler’s delusional grasp on reality.