Leni Riefenstahl, Leni Riefenstahl
Leni Riefenstahl. Leni Riefenstahl. Her film My Struggle was based on the book of the same name that I had written. The protagonist was, naturally, me. "Lucas von Falkenrain."
The actor who played Falkenrain—somehow, they had found someone who looked just like me. The supporting characters, though, were all idealized. He didn't look like that... A few of my comrades from the Great War appeared as well, their appearances from the past.
Perhaps for political reasons, My Struggle focused mainly on my exploits during the Great War. The scene where I forged the shell usage restriction order during the border battle. The moment I led the assault troops charging into the French trenches. Commanding the artillery to seize Ypres. Devising the Falkenrain Offensive, and then getting wounded after the Spring Offensive...
The film ended with the protagonist, "Falkenrain," returning home as a war hero to a hero's welcome from the townsfolk.
Catalina and I exchanged a quiet glance. Then we both chuckled softly.
"It's extremely idealized, isn't it?"
"I don't even know where to put myself. As you remember, back in the Ruhr hospital, not only did they not welcome me like that—they didn't even recognize me."
I shrugged as I said it. Catalina quietly leaned her shoulder against mine, flashing a playful smile.
"I recognized you, though."
"You were the only one."
"I knew it. I knew Lucas was going to grow into something huge."
We were whispering and laughing in voices too low for the other audience members to hear when the end credits rolled. And amid them, someone entered the theater. The actors. And the director of the film, Leni Riefenstahl, was there too.
Why is she up there?
As that thought crossed my mind, Leni Riefenstahl's gaze met mine. She smiled faintly.
"Thank you all for watching our film. Here at the Munich Theater, you have just attended the 100th screening. What did you think of my movie?"
The audience began to murmur. And some started pinning red flags symbolizing the "Third Wave" to the walls.
"I imagine watching the film filled you with emotion as well. So join the struggle. Fight alongside heroes for the future of the nation."
With that, she gave me the DDRAP salute. In an instant, all eyes turned to me.
What the hell? Is that Max Amann? Who planned this random event?
My mind raced. I needed to find the culprit. The one who had ruined my light date with Catalina.
I could tolerate a film glorifying me—the anti-magic held up somehow—but turning our date into a propaganda stunt? Even I couldn't welcome that.
"Hail Falkenrain!"
"Hail Falkenrain!"
"What...? Why is he here?"
"What's going on?"
The crowd was confused. I quietly calmed Catalina, then walked toward Leni Riefenstahl, scanning the surroundings with a displeased expression.
"Pleased to meet you, Leni Riefenstahl."
"You know me. My Führer."
"Führer...? No, more importantly—how did you know I'd be here? This isn't a propaganda venue."
"I just wanted to share your greatness with everyone."
"Max Amann? Hanfstaengl? Rudolf Hess?"
"Um... could I have just one hug, My Führer?"
Leni Riefenstahl said it with a blush, twisting her body coyly. I glanced back—Catalina's face had soured.
This is insane. I remembered from the previous loop: she was a fanatic. If I had to pick the top male fanatic, it'd be Goebbels, no contest. For the top female? Leni Riefenstahl, hands down.
Her fanaticism was over the top. She was like that even with that ugly mustached old man—how much more with my likable face?
"Approaching a woman I've just met like that is a bit much. A handshake will have to suffice."
"You're too cruel. A lady like me adores you, Führer..."
"I'm a married man."
"Tch..."
Tch...? In that instant, her glaring eyes shot past me toward Catalina. Normally it'd annoy me, but... it wasn't anger. It was chilling. Goosebumps.
Sometimes people wear human skins but defy human explanation. With them, you feel something beyond normal human emotions. Cosmic horror. An overwhelming fear of something vast and incomprehensible.
That's what I felt.
"I see... I knew that already. Now, everyone who watched my film! The victory of will! The victory of Germany! Hail Falkenrain!"
"Ah... sigh."
I tried to stop her, but saw the actors behind her saluting me too. I just grabbed Catalina and got out.
After the incident, I summoned Max Amann to our Munich headquarters. He greeted me with the DDRAP salute. It was just a fist instead of an open hand compared to the Nazi salute, but no one else used it. It fostered a sense of "unity" and "belonging."
"Amann. Long time no see."
I welcomed him warmly. He sat comfortably across from me.
"My Führer. I heard you summoned me."
"Has 'My Führer' become the standard title now?"
"It's what party members call you. Ever since we ousted Strasser and Ludendorff."
"Incomprehensible."
"Don't take it badly, My Führer. These little titles build image and authority."
Führer roughly meant "leader," reserved for national-scale figures, not small-time ones. That's why it felt premature.
But Max Amann explained:
"Precisely, it's 'Führer des Dritten Deutschen Reiches'—Leader of the Third German Reich. Shortened to 'Führer.' It started after the oligarchy government and Third Reich declaration. Goebbels—that young man—pushed it, and it spread through the Rhineland and all of Berlin."
"That's why Munich hadn't heard much."
"Exactly. In Berlin and the Rhineland, you're called 'Führer.'"
"Thanks for the update. Anyway, that's not why I called you."
I showed him the movie ticket Catalina had given me. The film was My Struggle. Max Amann looked at it and tilted his head.
"My Führer, I heard about it, but it has nothing to do with me."
"I thought it was you... it wasn't?"
"I never even thought of a film. You want to know who ordered it? My guess: Leni Riefenstahl's solo act."
"Solo act?"
"Yes, My Führer. She's obsessed with you. Fanatically so."
"My Struggle was the source material—how did the rights work?"
"I approved it. It helps the party."
Surprisingly, though I wrote My Struggle, I'd left rights management entirely to Max Amann. He handled publishing too.
"Why didn't you report it?"
"My apologies, My Führer. I'll ensure nothing escapes your notice from now on. With elections coming, things got busy..."
"No. It's fine. It ended up helping, didn't it?"
"Yes."
I nodded. Leni Riefenstahl. The film was her independent project... Well, with things as they were, better to exploit the situation than fear it. A movie would reach the masses easier than a book.
Smart move. Spreading the film would naturally boost book sales.
I gave Max Amann a new task.
"Since it's done, let's use it. Movies hit the public harder than books. Spread it far and wide. We need more supporters for meaningful growth in the next election."
"Understood, My Führer."
"Goebbels too—use him if needed. I can transfer him to Berlin."
"I'd appreciate that, My Führer."
Max Amann accepted without hesitation. I immediately reassigned Goebbels from Rhineland agitation officer to Max Amann's deputy. As an orator, he'd excel at propaganda.
The Weimar Republic's fifth Reichstag election was approaching. I stayed in Munich another three months or so, then moved to Berlin with Catalina.
The point when I possessed Falkenrain's body. I returned to my original family home, where the 10-year-old boy had lived. Father was gone, Mother had become an old woman.
After over a decade, Mother looked frail. I thought she'd scold me for not visiting. But she just hugged me tight and cried, saying nothing.
"I'm home, Mother."
Catalina watched, glaring at me sharply.
"Couldn't you visit your family now and then?"
"Ahem... I was devoted to the nation—no time to spare. Especially during the war..."
"Um, Mother. Nice to meet you. I'm the daughter-in-law."
"Ah... my son is already married..."
The family home wasn't comfortable. With our new residence ready, we should leave soon. I signaled Catalina to hurry.
But she grabbed the crying-then-laughing Mother and kept chatting. This is driving me crazy... These aren't my family. They're the Falkenrains. My real family is back in 21st-century Korea.