By 1928, the world hadn't caught up—nor would it, not in time. But deep within the shipyards of Danzig, Germany unveiled a weapon that made the Great War look like a schoolyard scuffle.
Nearly three more years had passed since 1925, and something truly spectacular was emerging within the German Reich. Over the twelve years since the end of the Great War in this alternate timeline, the Fatherland had become almost mythic.
There were rumors abroad of a modern-day Atlantis rising in Europe; a land of impossible advances, secret technologies, and prosperity so profound it bordered on the unreal. Yet within the borders of Germany, it was simply the result of meticulous planning, limitless ambition, and the guiding hand of Bruno von Zehntner.
The infrastructure was unlike anything else on Earth: mega-highways crisscrossed the empire, high-speed rail lines connected to capitals and towns alike, harbors teemed with new-generation vessels, and sprawling airfields dotted the countryside.
