Adolf's POV
The first thing Adolf noticed was the softness.
Not a battlefield.
Not mud.
Not cold earth.
A bed.
A real bed.
For several moments, he remained perfectly still.
His eyes stared at the unfamiliar ceiling above him.
White.
Clean.
Unbroken by smoke.
No artillery.
No screams.
No gunfire.
Silence.
A dangerous silence.
His instincts immediately became alert.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
Slowly, he sat up.
Pain shot through his shoulder.
His wounds had been cleaned.
Bandaged.
Someone had helped him.
The memory returned.
Rain.
A city of lights.
A dark-haired girl.
Those strange roads.
The impossible machines.
Adolf swallowed.
It hadn't been a dream.
He was really here.
Wherever "here" was.
The room itself was small.
Modest.
Messy.
Very messy.
Books covered nearly every surface.
Papers were scattered across a desk.
Several empty snack packets sat abandoned near a sofa.
A blanket had somehow ended up hanging halfway off a chair.
Adolf stared.
Then stared some more.
His eye twitched.
How could anyone live like this?
Even the trenches had been more organized.
A strange glowing object suddenly lit up on a nearby table.
Adolf nearly jumped.
The rectangular object began vibrating.
And making noise.
A terrible noise.
His heart nearly stopped.
What kind of machine was that?
The device continued screaming.
Then stopped.
Silence.
A moment later it started again.
Adolf narrowed his eyes.
The object was clearly possessed.
There was no other explanation.
---
Anaya's POV
Anaya woke up to sunlight hitting her face.
She groaned.
Sunlight was rude.
Especially when it appeared before noon.
She rolled over.
Checked her phone.
11:58 AM.
Perfect.
A reasonable time to exist.
Then she remembered.
The stranger.
Her eyes opened immediately.
"Oh."
Right.
That happened.
Unfortunately.
Anaya sat up.
Her apartment remained standing.
Good.
The mysterious war man hadn't murdered her.
Also good.
Yawning, she shuffled toward the living room.
The moment she stepped inside, she froze.
The stranger was awake.
And staring suspiciously at her phone.
Like it had personally offended him.
The image was so ridiculous that she almost laughed.
Almost.
"Good morning."
The stranger turned sharply.
His movements were quick.
Careful.
Military.
Anaya noticed immediately.
His eyes studied her.
Assessing.
Calculating.
Like he expected danger from every corner.
That was new.
Most people looked at her apartment and expected dust.
Not danger.
"Where am I?" he asked.
Again.
Anaya sighed.
"This conversation is going to be exhausting, isn't it?"
---
Adolf's POV
The girl looked different during daylight.
Less mysterious.
More human.
Still exhausted.
Still strangely beautiful.
Though Adolf quickly ignored that thought.
The important issue was survival.
And understanding.
"This is your home?"
"Unfortunately."
Adolf frowned.
"Unfortunately?"
"I pay rent."
She said it like it explained everything.
It explained nothing.
The girl walked past him.
Heading toward a strange metal box.
She opened it.
Cold air escaped.
Adolf stared.
What kind of sorcery—
No.
Technology.
Everything here seemed impossible.
She removed a bottle.
Closed the door.
Then caught him staring.
"What?"
"What is that?"
"The refrigerator?"
"...The what?"
The girl blinked.
Then blinked again.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
"Oh."
For the first time since meeting him, genuine concern appeared on her face.
"You weren't joking yesterday."
"No."
"You actually don't know what a refrigerator is."
"No."
The concern deepened.
"That's... concerning."
---
Azul's POV
The rain had stopped.
Good.
Azul hated rain.
He sat behind the café counter pretending to work.
Pretending.
Because in reality, he hadn't focused on a single task all morning.
His thoughts remained fixed on one person.
Anaya.
And the stranger.
A customer approached.
"Excuse me."
Azul looked up.
"Yes?"
"I ordered coffee ten minutes ago."
Azul glanced downward.
The coffee sat directly in front of him.
Untouched.
Still waiting.
The customer sighed.
Azul sighed.
Today was not going well.
---
By afternoon, curiosity won.
Azul locked the café temporarily.
Then headed toward Anaya's apartment building.
Not because he was worried.
Obviously.
He simply wanted information.
Information was important.
That was all.
Definitely all.
The fact that he had thought about the stranger all night was completely irrelevant.
---
Anaya's POV
This man was impossible.
Absolutely impossible.
Over the last hour, she had learned several things.
One:
He had no idea what a smartphone was.
Two:
He nearly had a heart attack when the television turned on.
Three:
He treated her microwave like an unexploded bomb.
Four:
He somehow spoke like a history textbook.
Five:
He was completely serious.
"You're telling me," Anaya said slowly, "that you think it's still 1916?"
"Because it is."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
Anaya grabbed her head.
A headache was forming.
A powerful one.
She could feel it.
"Okay."
Deep breath.
"Let's try something else."
She opened her laptop.
The stranger immediately became suspicious.
"Another machine."
"It's a computer."
"Should I be concerned?"
"Probably."
He did not appear reassured.
Anaya typed quickly.
A few seconds later, historical photographs appeared.
Black-and-white images.
World War I.
Trenches.
Soldiers.
The stranger froze.
His face lost color.
Because for the first time—
He was looking at his own past.
Displayed on a machine that shouldn't exist.
And suddenly...
Neither of them were laughing anymore.
---
Adolf's POV
His hands trembled.
Impossible.
Absolutely impossible.
The photographs.
The dates.
The years.
The information.
Everything pointed toward one conclusion.
One horrifying conclusion.
The girl noticed.
Of course she noticed.
She watched him carefully.
Waiting.
Adolf stared at the screen.
Then at the year displayed in the corner.
2026.
More than a century.
Over a hundred years.
Gone.
Just gone.
His chest tightened.
His breathing became uneven.
No battlefield.
No Germany.
No home.
No future.
Everything he knew had disappeared.
Everyone he knew was dead.
Long dead.
The realization hit harder than any artillery shell ever could.
And for the first time since arriving—
Adolf Hitler felt truly alone.
---
Anaya's POV
Something changed.
She could see it.
The stubborn stranger who had argued with her all morning suddenly looked...
Lost.
Not confused.
Not angry.
Lost.
A man standing at the edge of a world that no longer belonged to him.
For reasons she couldn't explain, her chest tightened.
She wasn't good with emotions.
Never had been.
But even she could recognize loneliness.
Because she lived with it every day.
Neither spoke.
The apartment grew quiet.
Then—
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Anaya blinked.
Who was visiting?
Nobody visited.
Ever.
The knocking came again.
She walked toward the door.
Opened it.
And immediately regretted everything.
Because standing there was Azul.
Looking directly past her.
Toward the stranger.
The stranger was staring back.
Neither smiled.
Neither spoke.
And somehow—
The room suddenly felt much smaller.
Much more dangerous.
"Well," Anaya muttered.
"This can't be good."
---
Azul's POV
The moment he saw the stranger, every instinct sharpened.
The scent was stronger now.
Ancient.
Displaced.
Wrong.
And the stranger looked at him with equal suspicion.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Azul smiled politely.
The stranger did not.
Anaya looked between them.
Confused.
Unaware.
As usual.
And in that moment, Azul understood one thing.
This wasn't over.
It was only beginning.
Because for the first time in years—
Someone else had entered Anaya's world.
And neither man intended to leave.
---
End of Chapter 3