HELLLLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO READERS! I am Christopherweebling, bringing you a REWRITE of my first fanfiction.

So here's a little rundown on why I'm doing this. When I first became a fanfiction writer, I barely knew anything about writing. I barely understood pacing or spelling, or anything really. And I like to think that I've grown somewhat as a writer, but to be honest I'm not too sure. But whenever I look back upon the first ten chapters of The First Kampfer(Technically nine because of the one Authors notes chapter), I always feel so disappointed in myself. I want to give you guys the best darn stories I can make, that's why I took up a Beta Reader for HoodWitch(Who I have since let go of due to quitting fanfiction and not wanting to tie him back down again.). I want to make you all happy. And that was so piss poor. I'm gonna give you stuff I know you're gonna like.

Now, I want to make sure that the major plot points stay the same while also throwing in some new ones and making the Omega Warrior(Who is NOT a self insert, by the way. I don't have a robot arm or an "Omegatrix" or AIs or anything) have more depth to him. I also might not do any of those PSAs anymore because I didn't really have much though for them.

I'm gonna try my damnedest to make sure that this is enjoyable for you all. I hope, pray, that you like this.


It was such a waste.

500,000 active guards on duty. Armed with the greatest weapons the Moderators could provide. All of them trained for some of the greatest battles to ever transpire.

All for one prisoner.

"Trust me, the Fuhrer knows what she's doing. If she says this guy needs to stay in chains, he stays in chains." Said the Moderator Patrol Guard leading the new recruit down the hallways towards the cell.

"If she told you to jump off a cliff, would you?" The recruiter asked, failing to understand the processes they were taking.

"Look, I know this may seem crazy, but this guy has done stellar things since he got involved in the war."

"I doudt that."

"If what's been said is true, then he's taken down more Kampfers in a month than any other could in a year."

"'If what's been said?' As in rumors? For all we know, this guy could be completely innocent of any crimes he's been convicted o-"

The recruit would have continued if not for the sudden click of a gun's safety being turned off and the inside of a barrel being displayed in front of her.

"Are you calling the Fuhrer a liar?" The guard asked.

"N-no, I was just-"

"The Fuhrer has trained us, raised us, cared for us. We owe her our lives, our homes. If you believe that she has been lieing to us, then you are no comrade of mine."

"I-I would never say such things! I'm completely faithful to the Fuhrer, I love her just as she loves me! As all of us do and she does all of us!"

"Good." The guard said before putting her gun down. "Remember, you're not allowed to speak such things about the Fuhrer. You are her soldier, you follow command without hesitation."

"N-not to worry." The recruit stuttered. "I live to obey, no hesitation here!"

As this duo descended deeper into the prison, the echo of their footsteps grew stronger and longer. To the point that the recruit couldn't tell if they belonged to the two of them or some third party member. After what felt like hours they finally reached the end of the stairs, seeing great doors of metal. The steel, stainless. Contradicting the age of the vessel which it resided in. The recruit stared at them, curiosity burned in her eyes.

"I'm just wondering who would be considered this much of a threat is all." She said. Her elder looked her in the eye for a minute before a smirk spread over her lips.

"Why don't I introduce you to him?" She said before she pulled the doors keys out of her pocket.

"A-are we allowed to do that?" The recruit asked.

"We aren't forbidden, it's not a crime is there are no rules against it."

"B-but is this safe?"

"Pretty sure."

"That's not good-"

Before she could finish, the doors already creaked open as though they were held onto rusted hinges. The room inside was dark, blackness was burned by the light of the hallway. In it was next to nothing. Except a man.

The recruit studied him quickly. His arms and legs were bound to the walls, holding him up off the ground. He was dressed simply for a prisoner, wearing black shoes and dark blue pants. He had this white shirt with a green stripe going down it that had a red W with what looked like a C turned to the right above it so that the made this mock Omega symbol. His skin was pale and his limbs were thing. He looked at her with dim emerald eyes. His brown hair grew down to his eyebrows and down his neck, and was extremely messy.

"Private, meat your prisoner, Chris. Chris, this is the newest guard." The leader said as though she wasn't talking to a criminal. The boy did not speak.

"N-not much of a talker is he?" the private asked.

"They never are, I'd assume." The leader asked before handing her keys to the recruit. "Lock the doors when you're done with him, will ya? I gotta get back to my shift." She was already halfway out of the door when she said this.

The recruit watched her leave, as did the prisoner. Looking back at him, the recruit saw nothing in his eyes, no rage, fear, nothing. He was peculiar to the recruit. She's never seen someone like him before.

"What did you do to get yourself locked up in here?" She asked him. He either didn't hear her or chose to ignore her. "Come on, you can tell me." She walked closer to him. Still no response, though his eyes did seem to be trained on her.

"Not much of a talker, are you?" She asked, standing right in front of him now. Still no response. "Guess it doesn't matter." She pulled out her pistol, a small revolver, and started spinning it around her finger. "Always do as the Fuhrer tells yo-"

Before she could react, he lent forwards and bit onto the gun and her fingers. Reacting on instinct she let go and jumped back, not knowing that was what he had wanted. Spinning the gun around his mouth, he pointed it at his right hand and pulled the trigger with his tongue. The recoil throw his head back sharply, but the restraint on his wrist had been blasted off. He quickly took the gun out of his mouth.

The recruit turned to run, but before she could take so much as two steps, a bullet ran through the back of her knee and dug itself into the floor. She bent down in pain as the criminal began shooting away the rest of his restraints. She felt tears well up in her eyes as she realized what people were going to do to her once they found out she had failed on her first day.

With a thud. The prisoner fell to the floor. His eyes trained on the new guard before he could hear the echo of footsteps racing down the stairs. He readied his gun and prepared for the next target.

"What's going on down he-" *Bang!* Before the previous guard could finish, she was shot through the four head, her head jerked back as her body went limp. She bent down onto her knees and fell to the floor, life devoid of her eyes.

Chris walked closer towards the door before turning his attention to the private. He saw tears rolling down her face and almost felt pity for her. He knew how the moderators worked, she was a failure.

The private looked up at the prisoner with pleading eyes. "P-Please, you can't let them find out about this. They'll punish me."

The prisoner suddenly realized the weight in his right hand and what the private was requesting.

"K-kill me, it would be painless compared to what they do."

Chris lifted up the gun and looked at the weapon he held. If he chose to shoot her, she dies quickly and painlessly. Let the moderators find her...

"Gladly." He said as he lifted the gun to her head. The girl closed her eyes and, with a deep breath, Chris pulled the trigger. He watched as she fell to the floor lifeless. He bent down over the private and wiped away her tears.

Her face cleared, we began his walk up the stairs. First he needed to reclaim what was his, then he leaves.


Finding the armory took considerably longer than the warrior had anticipated. Granted, he did attempt to keep a low profile in his search for his tools, but he was extremely surprised by the lack of signs pointing anyone in any direction. The only signs he was was which series of triple digit numbers were which way. Having no history with the moderators had limited his sense of direction. Before this wouldn't be a problem. Now...

After what felt like hours, but knowing his sense of time it was probably either longer or shorter, he finally came into a room filled with weapons. Abstract and foreign tools decorated the walls. Chris scanned the room he was in, looking for his tools, the only ones he would need.

His cybernetic enhanced eyes highlighted familiar shapes, and he leapt towards them. Opening a cabinet, he found what he had needed. Reaching in, he slipped on the red hoodie with green stripes on the sleeves and edges of the pockets, the inside of the jacket had thin green fur. Chris reached in and slipped his black fadora on. Then he took what he really needed. A sonic screwdriver which he slipped into his hoodie's inside pocket. A hook that seemed to curve into a sort of pistol shape, which he slipped into his left pocket. A Prophets Bane that looked as though it could disconnect into two which he shoved into his right pocket. And a brown cane with a golden hook at the end which he slipped onto his back, one good thing coming out of his life support. These were the tools that only the greatest would wield. He was proud to call them his own.

Now for the real glory. Searching the cabinet he found that he had completely emptied it. Reaching into his inner pocket he pulled out the sonic and pressed the button. The claws holding the green bulb opened as the dim emerald light glowed into his eyes and a soft buzzing was heard. He released the button and patted the device into the palm of his free hand.

"Come on, work already." He muttered to himself as the device made another soft whistle. He gripped it into his other hand as he began to turn the base of it to re-calibrate. He then pressed the button again and this time the whistling was sharper and the light brighter. He could feel the data poring into him as the sonic collected it. He ran a quick scan of the room before the device showed him to his true price.

Putting the screwdriver away, he walked to the other side of the room and reached into a drawer close to the floor. In it he saw his greatest tool, his symbol of honor. The Omegatrix he was assigned. Picking it up, Chris wondered his he could be considered worthy to wield one given what he had attempted. But he reasoned that if his doppelgangers could wield one, so could he. With that he slipped the gauntlet on and felt it shrink to fit his wrist. Looking at the watch like core of the device, he found the badge of the Omega Warrior to be vacant, replaced by blackness.

This would make things difficult. Without Omega the device was near useless. Getting most of the systems to run would be a hassle, the Matrixies is almost inoperable without an AI the user face was so complicated. And his massacre leading up to his defeat was nowhere near as easy as he made it look.

Retrieving his weapons, however, was only half the battle. Now he needed an exit. Fighting the Moderators directly would be pointless, they had immunity from most inter galactic enforcers, and those police were unaware of what the Moderators were doing. He needed to make them pay attention. If the soldiers they create dwindled in numbers enough, they would start investigating.

Of course, for that, he needed to find the docking station. With how long it took him to find the armory, that would be hell.

Or at least it would have been if the door hadn't slid open at that moment.

Chris didn't even hesitate as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the hook, gripping it tightly as he mentally gave it the command to transform into a Bolt Shot. He quickly placed it against his new guest's head and quickly scanned the hallway for anyone else. All clear, he turned back to the soldier and quickly gripped her weapon with his free hand, pointing it away from himself and yanking it out of her grip.

This certainly made things easier.


It was so much easier navigating the Moderator's base when someone was kind enough to give you directions before they died. At least he could say she died quickly and painlessly.

Quietly approaching the door, Chris slipped it open a crack and scanned the inside of the docking station. He saw numerous soldiers and quick a few ships of varying sizes. Some large, no doudt with numerous weapons equipped, and others smaller, cruisers perhaps.

Unfortunately for the former Warrior, there were very few places to hide, and very many soldiers armed with various flavors of fire arms to work around. Chris let out a annoyed groan as he began weighing his options. His Life Extender was running dangerously low on fuel, he was outnumbered, and to be caught here would mean certain death.

Chris let out a sigh and a mental prayer that he would be able to survive this. He reached over his shoulder and grabbed his cane. Gripping the bottom of it, he sent a mental message to the tool and within nanoseconds the cane lit up a bright blue as it began to reshape itself. Within a second it had converted itself into a Gravity Hammer.

He slipped the door open a crack again and began to look for a suitable target, something that could cause a lot of damage in a short amount of time. Searching quickly, he saw a few soldiers pushing a cart caring various fuel tanks. Taking the opportunity, he threw the door open and threw his hammer at the tanks. The hammer hit behind the soldier, catapulting her into the air and scattering the fuel tanks. This got a lot of people's attention. As the tanks flew he pulled out the smaller hook and turned it into a standard pistol and fired at one right before it hit the ground. The only thing the soldiers heard was a loud Bang! and all of a sudden there was a fireball in the launch bay.

Chris quickly rushed forward, making a b-line for his weapon as the explosions continued to erupt. He shifted his side arm into an SMG and began firing at any soldier that wasn't distracted and or incinerated. He slid across the floor as he grabbed the Hammer, at this point returned to it's cane state, and converted it into a assault rifle and began firing. He quickly put his side arm away and pulled out his energy sword as he began mowing down soldiers in his attempt to reach the nearest cruiser.

Noting that many bullets were starting to go into him, he shifted his assault rifle into a more destructive fuel rod cannon and began firing into the larger crowds while simultaneously slicing and stabbing anyone in his way. He would not be stopped, he will escape.

Reaching the ship he turned around to face whatever soldiers were left as he turned his cannon into an incineration cannon and fired off shots at numerous groups before going inside. Reaching the control room, he found three more soldiers armed with varying weapons. Not even phased by this he turned his weapon into a shotgun and pumped it before he resumed the massacre.

The three obstetrical removed, he ran behind the controls and started pushing buttons, no AI to help him remember the controls made starting the ship difficult, but he quickly managed to get the hatch to close before any more can come in and activated the engine. He gripped the steering mechanism and activated the hyper-drive. Most people would think twice about activating a hyper-drive in the docking station, he didn't even think once.

The ship rushed forward and passed through the force field that separated the Moderator's base from the cold of deep space. The remaining soldiers could only watch on in horror as the prisoner escaped.

The former warrior wasted no time pulling out his sonic screwdriver and setting it to find any tracking devices on the ship and short-circuit them. Pointing the device at the ceiling, he pushed down on the button and caused the claws on the bulb to open, extending the screwdriver a few inches as it made it's signature high-pitched whistle. He looked down at the controls and took note of the error messages. He let out a sigh of relieve when the console said that all tracking systems were inactive.

He then looked down on his wounds, or rather his lack therefore of. The device keeping him alive had done its job and healed any hole he had in him that he didn't previously. He would have to thank that meddlesome human for that. But right now he had more important things to do.

He needed to bring the Moderators to justice. And he could only figure out one way to do that.


I'll be honest with you, I think I've fallen out of love with Kampfer at some point. Don't worry, I'll still try to write this fic, and make it better. But just a heads up, don't be surprised if the chapters still aren't that good. I wasn't really a fan of the whole 'OC centered fanfic' thing despite writing one(Though that's normally because it's 'Hey, this character I made is in the main plot and not much changes.') and it's way to easy to make my character a Marty Stu. Don't worry, I'll try to avoid that.

So, see you next time.