The Fall of the Black Light Cavalry

The free spirit of France is trampled beneath the Nazi heel. The refined, elegant French way of life is poisoned by the brutal, authoritarian German invaders. On a clear autumn afternoon, a Nazi demon with an elegant smile stains the streets with the blood of innocent Parisians. Sofina gazes coldly at the demon, swearing that one day she will drive a knife into his chest with her own hands. God hears Sofina's prayer and delivers the cold-blooded Nazi executioner right before her eyes... And so, the next day, a pair of spotless black military boots steps into the peaceful, tranquil Wever Manor. An elite officer of the Third Reich. A war hero who conquered France. A young Junker aristocrat raised on the humiliation and hatred of a defeated nation. At last, one day, he swoops down upon prosperous, frail France on the vast wings of revenge. When the cold, hard Iron Cross is pinned to his collar, when his swaggering armored cars finally roll down the Champs-Elysees, when the streets and alleys of Paris are finally covered with the startling, chilling swastika flag, when the proud Gallic rooster is forced to bow its noble head, the thrill of victory is swiftly driven away by a nameless bewilderment... The Nazi officer Klausberg, a proud German aristocratic major and heir to a steel and arms magnate, steps into this French manor for the first time in his black military boots. From that moment on, nothing is the same.