A black and obsessive vortex has invaded the night above the Niederwalddenkmal, wrapping the figure of Germania in an unstoppable spiral that swallows the moon. Unlike the scorpions over Rome, which colonized power from below, the occupation here descends from the sky, a vortex of black wings symbolizing the descent of blind folly and a dark harbinger of misfortune upon a land already profoundly exhausted. The crows, pitch-black and numerous enough to form a spiral cloud, settle in a cold grip upon the monumental guardian's bronze robes, her shield, and even the imperial crown she holds in her hand. They have invaded the landscape, the Rhine flowing like a dark ribbon, the vineyards, and the entire German horizon, which appears empty and resigned. The people, as happened elsewhere, allowed themselves to be convinced by false promises of salvation, permitting the darkness of hatred to become their only horizon.