Prompt: In the dim candlelight of his study, Hitler paces restless as a caged animal. Sweat soaks through his uniform. Yet no amount of movement relieves the itching beneath his skin. Documents lie scattered where they fell; his war machine grinds to a halt without its commander. Beyond the window, the night seems to close in, mirroring the cells of his own ravaged body. Once an empire writ large across the map, now a microcosm of wreckage. From the first hypodermic needling ambition, his fall was foretold. But in oppression's echoes down the years, may some discern: no matter the heights, nothing borne of poison lasts. Somewhere in the city, the ghost of Morell watches and weeps.

Style: Cinematic