Bonhoeffer sits at his teacher's desk in his old family home, his glasses sitting a little lower on his nose than usual as it's been a while since he pushed them up. The only sound in the room is the occasional pull off his cigarette with a small exhale, his pen writing away, or the chair softly squeaking when he adjusts his posture.

The SS party's occupational dissonance in the streets is starting to gnaw at his personal time.