The Rise of German empire

On December 26, just after Christmas, a royal meeting concerning the future of Germany was held in William II's office. The senior military and political officials of the German Empire, including key members of the Communist Party, gathered to discuss the next steps in light of Crown Prince William's tragic accident. The atmosphere was heavy with the weight of the situation.

"Everyone, as you know, the unfortunate incident involving Crown Prince William has left him in a perilous state. The Royal Hospital has already confirmed the diagnosis: it will be extremely difficult for him to wake up," William II began, his voice tinged with sorrow.

"God! Poor His Royal Highness the Crown Prince," Prime Minister Bernhard von Bülow muttered, his face filled with empathy.

The other ministers, equally somber, nodded in agreement. No one could deny the tragic nature of the Crown Prince's situation—an heir to a mighty empire, now reduced to a comatose state, destined for a life of misery, either in a bed or a wheelchair. The entire empire mourned the loss, even if it had not been a physical death.

"Let's not dwell on the sadness," William II said, trying to maintain his composure. "It seems that all of this is God's will. We must move forward."

The ministers exchanged glances, knowing full well that today's meeting would focus on one critical issue: the future of the empire's leadership. William II had called the meeting to address the succession of the crown prince, which now hung in the balance.

"Now, as Crown Prince William is unable to fulfill his duties, the Empire needs a new Crown Prince. According to the law of succession, Prince Ethel Friedrich, being the second in line, should naturally assume the role. Do any of you have objections?" William II asked, looking around the room.

"Your Majesty, while we are deeply saddened by the tragedy that has befallen Crown Prince William, I do not believe Prince Ethel Friedrich is the right choice. The Crown Prince of the Empire needs to possess not only great personal ability but also impeccable character. I believe Prince Oscar is the most suitable candidate," Marshal Earl Tirpitz was the first to speak, his tone firm and unwavering.

The other ministers, though hesitant, nodded in agreement. If they had to choose between Prince Ethel Friedrich, who had proven himself to be somewhat ineffectual, and Prince Oscar, whose abilities were widely recognized, the latter seemed a much stronger candidate for the Empire's future.

However, not everyone shared this view. Moltke, the Chief of Staff, stood up in opposition. "Your Excellency Tirpitz, while I agree that Prince Oscar has many commendable qualities, we must remember that according to the law of succession, he ranks fifth. We cannot simply bypass the established laws. If we allow Prince Oscar to ascend to the throne, it would set a dangerous precedent, one that could undermine the entire system of succession. The law must be respected," he argued, his voice cold and methodical.

The room fell silent as the weight of Moltke's words sunk in. The Germans, known for their strict adherence to law and order, would find it difficult to support a move that disregarded the established succession rules.

Tirpitz, frustrated, shot back, "Moltke, your argument may hold legal merit, but it ignores the reality of our situation. The empire is on the brink of war. We need a leader who can ensure victory, not one who simply follows tradition. Prince Oscar has proven his competence, and his leadership could guide Germany through the coming storm."

Moltke, unfazed, responded coolly, "Indeed, Prince Oscar is capable, but his youth and lack of experience in governance make him a risky choice. The law of succession cannot be set aside for expediency. We must follow the rules, or we risk destabilizing the very foundation of the Empire."

The tension in the room was palpable, as the two men, Tirpitz and Moltke, locked horns over the future of the throne. Their positions reflected the broader divide in the Empire: those who believed that practicality and ability should trump tradition, and those who held that the rule of law was sacred, no matter the circumstances.

William II sat in silence, his brow furrowed in thought. He hadn't expected such a sharp divide among his most trusted advisors. Tirpitz and Moltke had always been pillars of his court, yet now they were at odds, and the Emperor found himself torn between their arguments.

"Enough, both of you," William II interjected, his voice commanding. "Today's meeting is not to become a battleground. We must focus on the issue at hand: the future of the Empire. This is not a personal matter; it is a question of survival. We cannot allow infighting to cloud our judgment."

Tirpitz, unable to hide his frustration, shot a glare at Moltke, but said nothing. Moltke, equally displeased, clenched his fists, his gaze steely and resolute.

"Your Majesty," Tirpitz pressed, turning back to William II, "I understand the importance of the law, but there are times when it must be bent for the greater good. If Prince Oscar is not made Crown Prince, the Empire may face even greater dangers. The people need to believe in their future leader."

William II's face tightened. He could see the logic in both sides of the argument, and the weight of this decision bore down on him like a crushing weight. His own son's fate was in the balance, and now, a new heir to the throne must be chosen.

"Very well," William II said after a long pause, "we will hold further discussions on this matter. But I want everyone to understand: the future of the Empire is paramount. We must ensure that our next leader will be capable of guiding us through the challenges ahead, regardless of the consequences."

As the meeting continued, the room remained divided. The debate over who should succeed Crown Prince William as the heir to the German Empire had only just begun, and with it, the political landscape of Germany would change forever.