Ludwig remembered those words, or rather, ones much like them. Back when they had both been defeated, when the Allies had beaten them both into the ground and left them to await their fate, Gilbert had said similar words. 'They're underestimating me!' It hadn't been simple bravado, either; his older brother had survived what no one else thought a nation could endure, and he wasn't much the worse for that wear. Granted, it was still uncertain if it had truly worked, still not entirely solid in its formation, but Prussia had survived. Even in the dark days after the War, he had survived and carried on as he always had. Perhaps it was too much to say that he had made a complete recovery, but it was at least not an end to the one who had raised him and made him who he was.

...no, what worried Ludwig was the immediate future. Prussia had no idea what was in store for him. Their survival had been predicated on their lands being ripped in half. Half, Ludwig's, had been allowed some measure of self-determination. He'd recovered from the worst ravages of the war, and slowly grew into an economic power again. And half... half was Gilbert's. Half had been thrown to be savaged by the Russian Bear. Half had been decimated and ravaged and left a broken husk of what it once was. Did he dare speak about it? Should he let Gilbert know, or was it better to leave him in ignorance?

"Ah... on that topic..." But he couldn't say anything else. Suddenly the intercom chimed in, and it broke Ludwig's nerve. Later on, perhaps, he'd come to a decision about it. For now, however, he scooped up his journal and changed subjects quickly. "Hopefully we can speak again tomorrow during this shift? I hope to have more to report then."