Semi-Coercive Imperialist

The visiting room. In that place, surrounded on all sides by gray concrete walls, I gazed at the man seated across from me.

Oliver Müller. Beside him, looking as wretched as if he'd bee⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌n dragged through every hardship imaginable, sat Imperial Guard Captain Hans.

"Oliver Müll⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌er."

I murmured his name quietly.

"Is that correct?"

"Yes, yes. That's right."

It was Hans, who answered. I furrowed my brow and asked Hans.

"A⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌re you Oliver?"

"...I'm sorry."