Disclaimer: Kuroshitsuji (Black Butler) and all characters therein belong to Yana Toboso. We make no profit from the writing of this fanfiction, and it is strictly for entertainment purposes only.

He got the order from the board, and he stared at it for long moments before making the decision to choose candidates and call them into his office for a meeting and to issue their orders. As he waited for them to arrive, William T. Spears began to pace the floor. He looked out the broad window overlooking the reaper metropolis and he narrowed his eyes against the rising sun, pausing to watch it for a moment. What might the sunrise look like in such a setting? He couldn't imagine it appearing this peaceful and welcoming.

"Hmph. Peaceful and welcoming," he mused. No, where he would soon be going, the light of day would only highlight the horror of everything. Blood, screams, fire, gunshots…and carrion. He sighed and removed his glasses, pressing a thumb and forefinger against either side of the bridge of his nose to massage it. He would find nothing peaceful about the sunrise while on this assignment.

There was a knock at his door, and a junior officer with shoulder-length, feathered auburn hair stuck his head in. "Boss Spears?"

"I would prefer that you call me 'Mister Spears', 'Sir', or 'Supervisor Spears', Alexander Jeffries. I've told you that."

The younger reaper smiled—he smiled too much for William's liking, though his were not the mad grins of the Undertaker's; nor were they the cocky, engaging smiles of Ronald Knox. They were more like the boyish, distracted smiles of a youth who hadn't yet suffered enough harsh reality to know better. "Sorry."

He didn't sound sorry. He said it as if an afterthought, and he came in. "What's up, sir?"

William replaced his glasses and he turned to look at him, gesturing broadly at the room. "Have a seat somewhere and wait for the others to arrive. I shall explain when—not in my chair."

Jeffries' butt was hovering two inches over William's leather office chair and he stopped, giving him another damnably absent smile and shrugging. "I was just doing as you told me, boss…er…sir."

He got up and went to one of the other chairs on the opposite side of the desk, sitting down with a sigh and crossing one ankle over a knee. He twiddled his thumbs and flicked his black sneaker-clad foot as if tapping it to the beat of a song, while his knee bounced rapidly. That particular nervous habit grated on William's nerves almost as much as the fingerless gloves the boy wore.

"And I believe I have also told you that those gloves are not regulation," admonished the supervisor, his eyes narrowing on Alexander's twiddling thumbs.

The motions of said thumbs stopped, and the junior officer shook his feathered bangs out of his eyes and looked at him with the helpless expression of a man wrongly accused, spreading his hands. "I only wear 'em so I can type better in the office, though. Slows me down if I've got the regular ones on, and I always put on the regulation ones when I go out in the field to collect, sir."

"Then why not simply remove your gloves when you work at your desk?" suggested William caustically. "I should think a reaper of your reputed intellect would have the sense to—"

"Mornin' boss," said a deep voice with a Scottish burr, interrupting his lecture.

Eric Slingby walked in with his partner, Alan Humphries. Rather than take a seat, he chose to go up to the window and lean against it, his blue-tinted polarized glasses shading his eyes from the morning light. The sun backlit his tall frame, highlighting the golden lion's mane of hair falling to his collar in waves, but for the right side—which was braided into cornrows and dyed black. His brunet partner Alan—small and slim of build and barely reaching Eric's shoulders—stood beside him and yawned softly behind his hand. His youthful countenance complimented the Scotsman's more rugged one, rather than clashing with it.

"Good," remarked William. "Thank you both for your prompt arrival."

"I arrived promptly too," reminded Jeffries, "and he just called you 'boss'. No lecture for him?"

"Slingby is a senior officer who has proven himself many times over," William answered shortly. "He has earned the right. You, Alexander Jeffries, have not."

Eric smirked. "Been reapin' since everyone in this room was still in diapers, kid. Including tha boss, here."

Alexander shrugged and started twiddling his thumbs again. "Crystal clear."

William checked his watch. "Now if only Sutcliff and Knox would arrive, we could begin."

Eric folded his arms across his chest, the thin gold chain around his throat glinting in the light. "Could ya give us a hint o' wha' this is about, sir?"

"You will get more than a 'hint', once the others arrive," promised William. "I have no desire to repeat myself, and so we shall begin once we are all assembled. I only wish to go over this once, is that understood?"

Alan nodded quietly and Eric followed suit. William looked at Jeffries. "Is that understood, Mr. Jeffries?"

Alexander jerked his thoughts away from whatever song he'd been playing in his head and humming to. "Yessir. I'm hip with that."

"Honestly," muttered the supervisor beneath his breath. He found it easier to understand Eric when his accent got thick than it was to comprehend the slang so often used by the youngest generation of agents like Jeffries and Knox.

The door suddenly burst open, and a reaper dressed in black pants, a brown vest, a red and white-striped bow-tie and a long, ill-fitting red coat twirled in with a dramatic entrance. His crimson hair fell past his waist and it flared around him as he danced in.

"Hello, my darlings," cooed Grell, "your idol has arrived! Grell Sutcliff d—"

"Enough of that," snapped William before he could finish his self-promoting greeting. "Sit down and be quiet, Sutcliff. We have much to discuss and I won't have this meeting distracted with your antics."

Ronald Knox stumbled in, his signature white shoes dragging the carpeted floor as he mumbled a greeting and combed black-gloved fingers through his dual-colored blond on black hair. He made a beeline for the leather futon and he collapsed on it.

"Do not dare fall asleep, Ronald Knox," warned William when the boy curled up like a sleepy mouse and shut his eyes behind the somewhat oversized black frames of his glasses. "I need you alert enough to understand the directive I'm about to give. Heavens, it's like herding cats with you people."

Eric smirked and walked over to the futon to nudge Ronald with his boot. "Up an' at 'em, shrimp. I warned ya no' tae stay out partyin' sae late."

Ronald swatted at the Scotsman blindly and grumbled, turning over onto his other side and pillowing his head on one bent arm. "Yeah, yeah…I'm listening."

"Good, then. The Berlin Dispatch division is in need of foreign aid. The number of souls to collect has risen dramatically this year, and they lack the numbers to keep up with it. As such, they have requested aid from all major branches across the world, in order to garnish assistance without leaving anyone short on staff—or rather in our case—shorter. London Dispatch can only spare four agents for this assignment; two of which will collect the records of fallen German soldiers, while the other two will be assigned to the concentration camps…to gather the records of the victims there."

Alexander looked around with a frown. "But there's five of us here, sir."

"Indeed. I have decided to take on the task of the soldiers myself, with a partner. I will require two reliable officers to run this department in my stead while I am away, hence why I called five of you for this meeting, rather than three. Officer Humphries, Officer Slingby, I am counting on you."

Eric's brows shot up. "Ya want me tae run this place while yer gone? Have ya thought this through, boss?"

William nodded. "I have. With your more…conservative partner at your side handling the paperwork, I believe you can manage dispatch assignments. You have been here longer than anyone in this room, as you said, and you know the workings of this department."

Eric shrugged. "A'right, then. Who's partnering up wi' ya in Germany?"

Ignoring Grell's suddenly hopeful look, William nodded at Ronald. "I'll take Knox."

"Whaaa?" Grell pouted. "No offense to my darling Ronnie, but he's still green, Will!"

"Which is why he will be partnered with me," explained the supervisor. "We are short staffed, Grell Sutcliff, and we cannot afford to send the bulk of our senior officers on this mission. No junior officers should be sent without a mentor to guide them, either. It's far too dangerous for that."

"Then who am I getting partnered with?" Grell asked, crimson brows furrowing.

Everyone looked at Jeffries, who smiled benignly at Grell. "Looks like you'll be my mentor, Officer Sutcliff."

Grell made a face and gave William a protesting look. "If I have to be teamed up with a greenie, why not the one I've trained from fledgling status?"

"No need to fight over lil' old me," yawned Ronald, grinning. "Plenty o' Knoxie t' go around."

"Because where you'll be going, you may need the skills of someone with a greater understanding of technology and mechanics…and someone that spends most of his spare time researching everything under the sun—including the current goings-on in war-torn mortal Europe."

Alexander smiled a bit wider, taking it as a compliment. "Wow, thanks for putting faith in me, b—I mean, sir. I know all about German engineering and—"

"You will be assigned to the death camps with Officer Sutcliff," interrupted William succinctly.

The young agent's smile faltered and faded, his lightly tanned complexion going a little pale. "Oh."

Everyone sobered at that…even Grell. William adjusted his glasses and turned to look out the window again. "I chose Sutcliff because he does not give way to compassion when he reaps. That will be an asset. I myself am familiar with the country and am best suited to guide myself and my partner through it in our task."

"Bloody Germans," muttered Eric.

William turned his head to look at him, raising a brow. "I happen to be German, Mr. Slingby."

Eric blinked, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "Ye are? Really? I had no idea."

The tall brunet smirked without humor. "On my mother's side, yes. I was raised in England, but I am fluent in German and I spent enough time there visiting with my family to know my way around."

Eric grimaced. "I dinnae mean tae offend. I jus' dun' understand how they can do tha things they're doin' an' still sleep at night."

"Eric Slingby with a conscience," mused William.

"I've go' some morals, boss," insisted the Scotsman. "Ye'd ne'er see reapers wiping each o'er out like tha'."

"You used to have the same attitude towards the English," murmured Alan as a reminder.

Eric shrugged. "A'right, so I did. But this is even worse than wha' happened in Scotland."

"Direct your anger where it belongs," advised William sternly, "at the Nazi regime, not the country it originated from. Not every German citizen supports what goes on, need I remind you. Besides, we are meant to be neutral in these matters. Our task is to judge the souls we collect, true, but we are to do so impartially and without malice. If you must feel anything for these mortals and their actions, better for it to be pity than loathing. They are un-evolved and weak, as a whole."

Eric sighed, flushing a little. "Aye. Seems ye made tha right call keeping me here."

William nodded. "Indeed."

He picked up the paperwork he'd put together and he passed out a folder to each of the reapers that would be on assignment. "These are the itineraries we are to follow. We shall leave tomorrow at dawn. Do not be late, and remember to pack any necessary items you wish to take with you to the Berlin branch. Accommodation for us has already been arranged in Shinigami Berlin, so we will have a place in this realm to rest between assignments. We will report in to their Dispatch headquarters at the end of each workday to turn in our collections and be debriefed. In addition, I will fax those reports here to our home division to be processed by Mr. Humphries, to keep the board of directors updated on our progress."

He looked around at his fellow agents, his face a cool mask despite his inner feelings on the entire affair. "Get plenty of rest tonight, Gentlemen. Those who will be departing for Germany may take the rest of the day off. Slingby and Humphries, resume your normal work duties for the day. I shall organize a chart for you to go by in my absence, and should you run into any problems, you may reach me on my mobile phone. Are there any questions?"

Jeffries slowly raised his hand. William sighed. "Yes, what is it, Mr. Jeffries?"

Alexander looked up from the documents he was flipping through, his oval, wire-framed glasses darkening as the sun struck them. "Say we run across a tank. Can I drive it?"

William grimaced slightly. "With your driving record, I should say not."

"Oh."

"Ronnie! Up! We got to go to Germany today. If you make me late I'm leaving without you and taking your spot with my darling William!" Grell snipped, jumping on Ronald who was fast asleep on his couch.

Ronald didn't own a bed, and he only had a couch because Grell had been throwing it away when he got a new one. Grell lived just down the hall from Ronald in the same apartment complex. But compared to Grell's lavish flat, Ronald's was cramped, mis-matched, and messy. The furniture was all second-hand items he'd picked up off his neighbors when they were replacing them. From Grell's old red couch to an ugly, faded yellow chair with a high back and a broken seat, everything was out of date apart from his wardrobe which was all designer name-brand items. His watch alone was worth more than all his furnishings put together.

"Up! It's your turn to drive us to work!" Grell insisted, pinching Ronald's cheeks and tugging on them until the young blond responded with a groan, his eyes cracking open. "Honestly, you have got to stop partying all night! Especially last night! You knew you had to get up early."

"I dinna wanna." Ron groaned, sitting up and rubbing his eyes before reaching for his glasses which were sitting among empty bottles on a old wooden coffee table in dire need of being refinished. "Stupid Germany…we have enough deaths with the air raids on London…"

"Well, now you get to reap the ones responsible rather than victims." Grell said, getting up and moving to the kitchen to make up some eggs to help get Ron moving, "That help?"

"I'd rather go to Germany if I get to reap that nasty Hitler guy." Ron stretched, his blanket falling from his bare shoulders before he stood up, Completely nude, he shuffled around the room, picking up clean boxers and ducking into the bathroom for a quick shower and to brush his hair and teeth. When he came back out, he wore only his boxers and his towel around his neck to catch the water from his hair; as he preferred it to air dry. He walked to his closet and began to dress himself in a clean, pressed suit, leaving the top button of his shirt open and his tie loose. He slipped on his signature white belt and then slipped on his shoes and gloves.

"Hey, Senpai…what should I pack?"

Grell walked out with a plate of eggs and handed it to the boy. He hadn't been bothered by the nudity. He was used to it, though he still liked to tease his junior about it some mornings. "You didn't pack last night?"

"Didn't know what to take." Ron shrugged, taking the plate and fork, sitting down to eat.

"Well, you'll likely be given clothes to wear. War-time reaps are often long-term undercover assignments of sorts. There is so much death on the battle fields that many humans can see a reaper, even if he is masking himself. Uniforms help cut down on mortal wounds directed at a reaper. Bullets hurt. Trust me, darling. Basically, just take whatever you can't be without. Maybe a nice picture of one of your girlfriends or something."

"…So I don't really need to take anything?"

"Just your scythe." Grell said, then frowned, "Darling…I know how fond of your scythe you are…but it's quite large and heavy. You may want to consider taking something easier to handle on a battlefield."

"But I like mine! She runs great! I can really fight with her if a demon shows it's ugly face!" Ronald insisted, referring to his scythe which was in the form of a push lawn mower.

"I know, but it does get jammed on you at times. You need something quick and reliable. You have to be on your toes. You can't be fiddling with your mower." Grell pointed out as he watched Ron shovel eggs into his mouth, barely taking time to chew before swallowing.

"Den what am I—" he paused to swallow, "supposed to take? My old trainee scythe? Nah, no way."

"It is only a suggestion, Ronnie." Grell hopped up and pulled his long red hair into a ponytail and grinned, "Ready?"

Ron nodded and snatched up his keys, "Ready."

Together, the two reapers made their way out to the parking garage and Ron hopped onto his sleek orange motorcycle. "Hop on, Senpai." He grinned as he turned it on. Grell hopped on behind him and soon they were speeding down the roadway towards the Dispatch building.

"Knox and Sutcliff are late." William checked his watch again. "How typical."

He was standing in one of the executive conference rooms with Jeffries and two visiting reapers from Berlin Dispatch, waiting to create a portal that would require the combined efforts of all of them, to travel such a distance. He looked at the male and female reapers that had come to assist with their transport to Germany, give them a tour of the headquarters there and show them to their suites. William was already dressed as a Nazi soldier, while Alexander wore appropriate civilian clothing for the current era in the mortal realm, including a black flat cap.

"I apologize for our associates' tardiness," offered William in German. "I assure you they are good agents. They are simply running a bit late."

The foreign officers both nodded patiently, pacified by his fluent use of their mother tongue and the burden it took off them to speak in English. Both were trained to do so passably, but his offering to translate for them made things easier. The flaxen blonde woman eyed William covertly, a tiny smirk adorning her lips. Terrible as the Reich was, their sharp dress code was attractive and William T. Spears wore the SS officer uniform very well. The British Dispatch supervisor turned his back to them and her gaze became slightly more obvious. Her partner gave her a sidelong warning look when he noticed how her eyes admired the way the pants fit Spears' backside, and he nudged her disapprovingly.

"Ah, here they come," William said with faint relief as he saw a flash of red through the open door of the conference room. As soon as Grell and Ronald entered, he tapped his watch and raised an eyebrow meaningfully.

"Ronnie's fault!" Grell said as soon as he was within ear-shot. The redhead had slung Ronald's protesting form over his shoulder as soon as they had parked the bike. Both their hair wind-whipped from the ride.

"Was not my fault traffic was so bad!" Ronald hissed, "Put me down! I can run on my own, Senpai!" As soon as Grell set him on his feet, he took out a comb and quickly ran it through his hair to make sure it looked nice.

"Oh~ William-darling~ You look very official dressed like that~" Grell cooed, moving to hang off the man, only to stumble for balance after William side-stepped his advance.

"…Not the best entrance we could have made, Senpai…" Ron sighed.

William straightened his glasses in a dignified manner and he began introductions, starting with the blond woman. "Good of you both to come. This is Officer Bernat and her partner, Officer Gabler. They will serve as our guides until we depart for the mortal realm from Germany. You already know that Europe in the mortal realm is currently war-torn, but what we have thus far seen in England is rather tame, compared to the sights we'll soon be seeing in Germany and surrounding occupied territories. The allies are closing in on the Reich and their supporters, so I'm afraid that the information I gave you yesterday was somewhat misleading."

Alexander sighed, and when William gave him a warning look, he wisely kept his mouth shut. "We shall be given a list of several locations throughout Europe to collect in, which means making use of established portals in between our realm and the mortal one, in order to travel more efficiently. Each team shall have to rely on some form of transport between portals, whether it be in this realm or the other. It's too dangerous to teleport long distances in the mortal realm right now—you could end up on a landmine or in the middle of a firefight with no cover, hence the need for use of pre-established, open portals. These portals are each guarded on the Shinigami side, to prevent the possibility of demons coming though from the other side to create mischief."

William handed Grell and Ronald two sets of identification; one for the mortal realm and one for the Shinigami realm. "We will each be going under aliases in the mortal realm as we move around to complete our directives. The directives themselves remain the same: Knox and I are to collect records from fallen German troops, while Sutcliff and Jeffries gather from the victims in the concentration camps. Expect to encounter other reapers from other branches doing the same. They have their assignments and we have ours. Pass like ships in the night, gentlemen. They have their jobs to do an unless they show you a badge with the same symbol on the bottom right corner of your own, they should have no interest in collecting from your marks."

Grell sighed and looked at the badges he was handed, "Any idea on how much longer this war is going to last?"

"Too long." Ron muttered, pocketing his and leaning against the wall, "But no use in complaining. Everyone is getting overtime and it won't stop until the humans settle things on their own."

"With any luck, things will settle before another decade passes," William said. "Until then, every top-power nation in the world will continue to slaughter one another and we must keep up with the tide of souls. We cannot allow the demons to feed on our targets, if it can be prevented. Now then, about accommodation: It has been arranged for us at each collection location, on our side of the planes. Staying overnight in the mortal realm would be ill advised. When we reach Berlin Dispatch, we will be given our first death lists to collect and part ways by this afternoon to begin. Collections shall be turned in at each respective agency as we move across Europe; to be sent to Berlin Headquarters."

He noticed Ronald's lack of luggage and he frowned. "Did you bring nothing for this journey, Knox? Our hosts have arranged for our bags to be transported to each new location when we finish our assignments and prepare to move on."

Ronald shook his head, "I couldn't think of anything I'd really need. Grell told me that I'd be given a uniform to wear so I didn't see the need to pack extra suits or anything. I grabbed my toiletries though; and extra boxers." he pulled a small bag out of an inner pocket.

William gave what might have passed for a shrug. "As you wish. Both you and Sutcliff will be given proper attire to wear in the mortal realm, to suit your respective roles. You shall be masquerading as an SS adjutant, Mr. Knox. Mr. Sutcliff, both you and Mr. Jeffries must dress as civilians. You will be shipped with the other victims to the Auschwitz concentration camp in Poland, for a start. Sutcliff, I'm afraid you will need to do something with your hair. Either cut it short, find a way to conceal it…or…dress as a woman. I shall leave the choice up to you, but you must fit in with the population you will be reaping, all the same."

"Wait…I don't like the way you said 'other victims'," Alexander said in an uneasy tone. "Don't tell me we're expected to get gassed."

"Not that it would harm you as reapers, but no." William smirked at him. "You will, however, need to enter the extermination chambers to collect, and to make your job easier, you will need to pose as two of the intended targets. Under no circumstance are you to interfere with what is being done, no matter how abhorrent you may find it. Is that understood?"

Jeffries tucked a lock of hair behind his ear and grimaced. "Uh-huh. Loud and clear."

"You want us to play the part of the victims? Why can't we be on clean-up duty? We could collect souls after they open up the showers to clear out bodies," Grell protested. "I've heard the reports of what goes on there! The victims are stripped, shaved down, and branded like cattle with tattoos. I want no part of such abuse!"

"I am not suggesting you allow yourselves to be taken to the chambers with those who are doomed to them, Sutcliff," corrected William, "but the fact remains that you must fit in with the population of the prisoners, nonetheless. Vanish from mortal sight when they come for you, make your collections in those chambers after it is done, and move on to the next assignments."

"It'd be easier as a German, I think." Grell insisted, "You—what was your name? Don't you agree with me?" He asked his partner for the assignment.

"Grell, I'm sure Berlin Dispatch has figured out the best way to handle the camps." Ron sighed.

William sighed as well. "These were the orders relayed to me because the board felt it would be easier for you to move amongst the victim population as one of them. Once we reach our destination, I shall contact them and discuss the possibility of the two of you going in as Reich soldiers. I will advise you not to get your hopes up, however. Going into this situation as a Nazi would mean directly involving yourselves in the extermination of the people they are currently rounding up. You would at least have to put up a reasonable pretense of herding these doomed souls to their death…and that includes unleashing dogs on children that try to run away."

Jeffries swallowed. "I'd rather play a victim, thanks."

"But we'll be dirty and bald!"

"Senpai." Ronald walked over to Grell, "You'll be acting out a part. You're good at that." He encouraged, to get his senior to calm and let the briefing continue.

"As Knox said," agreed William, "you needn't alter your appearance physically. You only need to disguise it enough to be convincing. Jeffries knows enough about such things to put on the illusion convincingly. Don't try to convince me you cannot do the same, Sutcliff."

Grell crossed his arms, fully pouting about the situation he wasn't pleased with.

"So, do I change here?" Ron asked, eyeing William's uniform, "Or are you just jumping the gun?"

"I collected my uniform early and changed," answered William, "but considering you both arrived too late to don your undercover attire and we shan't be leaving from Shinigami Berlin right away, I suppose yours can wait until after the tour. Sutcliff, we will require your help to activate the portal. Silence from the rest of you would be appreciated for the sake of our concentration.

Alexander looked at Ronald and shrugged, making a "zipping" motion over his lips and smiling.

"If you insist, Boss." Ron shrugged, sitting down in a chair as Grell hopped up to help.

The four senior officers created the long-distance portal together, and William urged them all to go through while it held. After a dizzying trip to the other side of it, they stood before the Berlin headquarters. It was much busier than the London branch; with reapers dressed in both civilian and military clothing coming and going up and down the steps in an ant-like race. The hosting officers quickly ushered them in to show them around the facilities and an hour later, they were ready to depart, each London Dispatch officer dressed accordingly to his role. Their luggage was transported to their first respective destinations and it was time for the two teams to part ways and get going.

William glanced sidelong at Ronald as he stepped outside the building entrance with him. The boy was trying to find a way to fit the hat that came with his uniform onto his head without messing up his hairdo.

"Honestly, Knox…be fortunate your hair is short enough not to warrant a cut or illusion," he lectured softly. He nodded to their hosts. "I believe we are ready for departure."

Grell was fussing with his rather drab, scrub-like attire and emitting comments about how distasteful it was. To other reapers, he still appeared as himself. To mortals, however, both he and Jeffries appeared as bald as other holocaust victims, ready to be transported to one of the largest concentration camps in Europe like all the other unfortunates that fell under the knife.

"It is only temporary," William reminded. "And an illusion, insofar as the hair. Do the task set before you, Sutcliff."

He was frankly grateful that he hadn't been able to procure approval from the board to have Grell and his partner masquerade as Nazi soldiers for this. Grell might have no issues finding a way to appear to follow orders to cut down the young and the old that might try to flee, but one couldn't expect as much from a green reaper like Alexander.

"Says the man who gets to look sharp in a uniform."

"Do I have to wear the tie so tight? It's choking me." Ron complained, fiddling with the tie of his uniform, "Who wears ties to war, anyway?"

"People that wish to maintain a professional appearance, regardless of the task before them," answered William readily. "We wear ties to reap the dead and dying, Mr. Knox. I hardly see much of a difference."

He looked at Grell and Alexander. "Stay alert; the both of you. We shall depart with the reminder that these assignments are much more dangerous than any we have undergone before. Immortal or not, being blown to pieces in a moment of carelessness would not be conductive to good health."

He adjusted his hat and his glasses, and he nudged Ronald and nodded meaningfully at the portal awaiting the two of them. Each of them had been assigned portal tracking devices in the event that previously assigned portals needed to be moved to safer locations on the mortal side. In addition, the portal trackers had a map and coordinate feature to help them find their way around Europe.

"Good luck to you, gentlemen," he called as he and Ronald stepped through their portal.

Alexander looked at his assigned partner, then at the portal opposite to the one Spears and Knox had gone through. "Well, at least I'll get the chance to check out the German engineering in this time period in person, instead of books. Ready, Mr. Sutcliff? I mean Miss?"

He was still getting used to Grell's preference to be addressed with female pronouns—though William and Ronald didn't seem to use them.

"Oh, aren't you cute. Flattery won't get you far in my book, though. You have to prove to me what you can do out on the field, first. Potential means nothing. Remember that. Take care of yourself, because I won't be your knight in shining armor. I have no interest in damsels in distress." Grell said, shooing the boy towards the portal.

Alexander merely shrugged, smiled and nodded in agreement.

Interestingly enough, William and Ronald's first assignment list did indeed take them to mortal Berlin—right in the middle of a bomb raid by United Kingdom's Royal Army. According to the information from Berlin Dispatch, the death toll for this event would stretch out for two full days and nights. They arrived inside a damaged warehouse, somewhere on the outer western part of the city. William could sense the death all around him as the planes flew overhead, dropping bombs into the city.

"It must have just begun," he remarked to his companion, pulling out his small flashlight. "Ronald, let me see your cover Identification. I want to be sure everything is in order."

He was kicking himself for failing to do so before they left, but this entire situation had sprung up so quickly and his mind was racing.

Ronald jumped as another explosion was heard in the distance and he tugged out his identification badges, "Which one?" he asked. It wasn't his first war as a reaper, but in the Great War, he'd been kept on Civilian Collections. He never saw a battlefield, and it was intimidating. Death hung in the air so thick it was overwhelming to his senses and put him on edge. "Uh…are you sure you want…me out here with you?" He asked, eyes scanning over the scene before them.

"You won't do very much good cowering in here, will you? The identification badge you will be using here in this realm, if you please."

When Ronald handed it over, William shone the flashlight on it and he frowned in confusion. "This name is Italian, not German."

He himself was going by the alias of "Christian Heinrich", and Ronald was supposed to be an adjutant under his command. Then he recalled that the blond could speak Italian, and Italy was allied with the Nazis as part of the axis. He breathed a little easier. The SS-Freiwilligen Division wasn't just made up of Germans, and though most of the rest was composed of Ukrainian, Czech and Dutch volunteers, it wasn't beyond reason that an Italian could join it.

"This will do," he said with a nod, handing the badge back to his companion. He'd been prepared to tell Ronald to keep his mouth shut at all times and let him do all the talking if they needed to interact with any live Nazis, but he supposed he could pass for an Italian recruit. Not all of them were dark skinned and dark-haired, after all.

Another bomb came down a block away, lighting up the sky and making the ground and the building shake. William looked up at the ceiling as bits of debris came down, and he grabbed Ronald's arm. "We'd best get started. Stay close, Knox. Focus on the job and work swiftly."

"Shouldn't you be calling me Mosca, Mister Heinrich? Or…what rank are you? It'd be good to know what to address you as once we are out there." Ronald pointed out as they hurried out of the building. He'd been assigned the name of "Nereo Mosca" after mentioning that he was half Italian and could speak the language fluently. Not the name he would have picked, but it hadn't been the time to be picky. "I'm just an officer, right?"

"Correct," replied William with a nod. "You are an executive officer and my adjutant. I am a major. For now, we can go with the premise that you act as an interpreter for me when I have liaisons with Italian military personnel within the axis."

He changed his accent suddenly, taking on a German one but still speaking English. "Many senior officers can speak at least rudimentary English, so it would benefit us to have the ability to speak one common tongue in order for this act to work. Can you put on an Italian accent, Herr Mosca?"

"I can." Ronald nodded, twisting his words with the accent. It was easy to do, though he hadn't spoken his mother's language since he'd been human. "Does it sound alright? I haven't done it in decades."

William nodded. "It will do. Just remember that should it come to answering questions, we have been sent to assess the situation and report back to our superiors. So long as we avoid being seen by the living whilst on our assignments, it should not come to that. The mortal militias will be far too occupied in this chaos to pay much attention to a pair of officers moving amongst the dead, if we should happen to be spotted."

He offered his hand to Ronald. "Now come with me. We have a very busy night ahead of us."

Screaming civilians ran by outside the warehouse, and another bomb struck less than a block away.

Ronald blinked down at William's hand and slowly took it, "Alright…"

William pulled him along with him and he honed in on the first target, practically dragging Ronald along with him. "I shall collect," he called out over the noise. "You keep an eye out, for now. Understand? Ronald! Do you understand me?"

He cupped the blond's face, practically having to shout at him over the noise surrounding them. Knox looked stunned by the destruction around them. William didn't mind taking on the collection assignments, but he needed his companion to be alert and warn him if anything harmful was coming their way.

"Look at me," he coaxed. His division was so terribly unprepared for this. Was he wrong to choose Knox?

"Look at me," he urged again, his sharp features lit up by the flames. "I need you to focus, Ronald Knox."

Ronald's eyes were wide. Death wasn't new to him by a long shot—but the amount of bodies. The cries, screams, shouts…gunfire and explosions… The further into the battle they got the more overwhelming it became.

There was so much dirt and smoke in the air, it'd be hard to tell by sight and smell alone if there were demons prowling about. But he nodded, "I understand, sir."

William studied him for a moment longer before nodding. "Very good. Stay close. I will require your diligence while I collect."

He found his first target among the smoky rubble, calling out in German when he saw the two reapers. William approached the pinned solider and he spoke to him softly as he drew his scythe.

"Your trials are over," he said, and then the pole of his scythe shot out and punctured the dying soldier, releasing a flood of records.

"Ronald, keep me covered," he said to his companion as he began to collect the reels with his scythe.

Ronald looked about them as his partner collected, his eyes catching sight of a quick moving object headed strait for them, "Duck!" He cried, pulling William down and out of the path of the bullet that whizzed over their heads.

William dropped with his companion, keeping his complaints to himself. He was still collecting the records and he somehow managed to hold onto his concentration and keep drawing them while hunkering low. "Well done," he approved, seeking out the source of the bullet. It seemed to have come from a panicked soldier off to the left, who was suffering a severe case of dismemberment. His left leg had been blown off.

After checking the death list given to them, William nodded his way. "Reap that one, Ronald, while I finish here."

"Yes, sir." Ronald nodded, hurrying over to the fallen, dying man and summoning his scythe. He had taken Grell's advice and had grabbed his old scythe before he got his mower. It was his training scythe, but it had been modified slightly before he switched to his new one. The handle was longer, and the blade had a swirled pattern etched into the blade. He raised it and used it to release the man's records and start collecting them, "It's not nice to shoot at your reapers, you know."

William finished with his collection and he went to Ronald's side, eyeing the sky warily. More planes were flying overhead, and he heard the ominous whistle as they dropped bombs. "Do hurry, Ronald. We need to avoid being out in the open for too long.

As if to accentuate his point, one of the bombs struck the warehouse they'd just left moments ago, and William shielded his companion's bodily as flaming debris flew through the air. It wouldn't do for Ronald to lose his concentration and end up in a struggle with the records. They could turn hostile on him if he slipped up, and William knew from experience how unpleasant that could be.

"Done!" Ron said as the last of the records were collected into his scythe's blade, "How many more do we have?" He knew there was a lot, and they'd only collected two, but he didn't like it on the battle field.

"Nineteen tonight," answered William with a glance at the death list. "Come…this way."

He started off down an alley so that they would have at least some measure of cover, guiding his companion through the ravaged streets to their next target. They found her lying in a pool of her own blood outside a bakery. William dispatched her quickly, and then he grabbed Ronald without warning and shoved him up against the building. The ground shook and the street cracked as another bomb dropped, barely half a street away. A piece of flying glass cut William's cheek and he grimaced without vocal complaint, putting one gloved hand against the bleeding cut. It began to close immediately.

Even though he knew the wound was minor and would heal within seconds, Ronald gasped when he saw the glass cut his boss' handsome face, and he caught himself reaching up to touch it, though he managed to stop himself. It was silly to worry over such a thing, after all. And second later, it had healed, though blood was still smeared over William's cheek. Ronald pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and used it to wipe the blood away.

"Thank you," said William, faintly surprised by the action. Ronald must be more shaken than he let on. He'd never seen him concerned like this before…but this was a rather stressful situation. He'd surprised himself with his own protective actions, actually. With a glance around to be sure it was safe to move on again, William nodded and took the younger reaper's arm. "We'd best get moving before the next bombardment. I don't fancy the thought of dodging more explosions like that."

"Or getting hit by one and spending time in the hospital getting pieced back together…" Ronald agreed under his breath as they hurried on, looking for their targets in the ruins and bodies.

-To be continued