Suddenly, the music shifted—the dramatic swell of "The March of the Defenders" filled his headset. The border with Poland flashed red. Thousands of tiny 3D sprites, little soldiers with bayonets fixed, began their synchronized dance. The Kaiser's divisions slammed into his line like waves against a cliff.
By 1943, the Kaiser's army was a ghost. The player finally clicked the "Select All" button, then drew a single, sweeping arrow that stretched from Moscow all the way to Berlin. Suddenly, the music shifted—the dramatic swell of "The
As his green arrows surged forward, overtaking the retreating gray lines, he leaned back and took a sip of lukewarm coffee. The map was changing color, a slow, inevitable tide. He wasn't just winning a war; he was painting the world his favorite shade of red. The Kaiser's divisions slammed into his line like
