Well, here it is. My first fanfic. As a Gravity Falls fan and avid fan art viewer, I've been wanting to do this for a while. So without further ado, I hope you enjoy.

OCs are mine

Dipper, Mabel, and Pacifica belong to Alex Hirsch and Disney.

Weapon models belong to their country of origin.

Disclaimer: Is it really necessary? It's a Fanfic!

March 17, -

-Auschwitz-Birkenau, Poland-

The Polish countryside was serene and quiet but for the Crows and insects cawing and buzzing in the mid morning light. Abandoned train tracks and dirt roads stretched from the abandoned complex, slightly rusty and worn respectively from many years of disuse. The series of buildings and basements of the long-abandoned death factory that were still standing and stable lay untouched. A small amount of structures to the east, meant for the German soldiers stationed there during the 2nd World War, were remarkably intact. Watchtowers, built well after their time during a later conflict, were stationed at the 4 corners of the formerly-electrified fence surrounding the camp. A more modern set of buildings and bunkers was constructed to the west of the older architecture, laying just as dilapidated as the actual Extermination Camp. One would almost think someone used it as a temporary military base at one point….

A quiet rumble filled the surrounding countryside. As the seconds passed, the sound steadily got louder. Suddenly, an armored vehicle came rolling out of the treeline at 60 MPH. The APC was military green in color with no Camo pattern, with 4 large wheels and a surprising lack of machine guns and rocket launchers. Despite its size, the Armor transport had minimal engine noise, barring the tone of rubber on dirt. Where the star on a military APC might be, there was a symbol that looked like it was added separately. The symbol was a circle that one would have mistaken for a picture of a clear night sky, if not for the pitch black silhouette of a pine tree taking up most of it. A golden sketch of the big dipper stretched across the symbol. The Armor transport rolled up what was left of the dirt road and slowly ground to a halt in front of one of the only remaining, surprisingly legible gates to the extermination camp. As dirt from the movement of the APC steadily cleared, a very out of place license plate became visible, sporting a single word: PINES. Inside the Army vehicle, a group of 4 people were getting ready to explore the dilapidated extermination camp.

BOOM!
BOOM!

whiiiiiiirrrr...
THOOTHOOTHOOTHOOM!

The soundtrack of frontline warfare combined with the odd sounds of weaponry I was certain wasn't from anywhere in this dimension rattled my ears as I made my way through the woods.

When I got up this morning, I wasn't expecting very much, just hanging out in the Shack, probably take a visit to one of Great Uncle Ford's labs, visit the crashed flying saucer just out of town to help him map out the place, or maybe spend some alone time with my girlfriend.

What I didn't expect was green interdimensional rifts opening in the sky outside of town dispensing aliens and teleporting an ominous-looking structure in the distance. Having been in what passed for town square in the small town at the time, I saw these details with great clarity, as the square was one of the few places not obscured by trees. Several of the townsfolk predictably looked at the Events in confusion, anticipation, and curiosity (Gravity Falls didn't have the best history with interdimensional rifts, especially considering Weirdmaggedon). Toby Determind, or 'Bodacious T' as he was known as on the news, even took a picture for the paper, before wisely running into the forest in the general direction of the crashed spaceship to hide. I, on the other hand, ran in a slightly adjacent direction towards the Shack, knowing that Great Uncle Ford would have the place reinforced with deflector shields from the Saucer and numerous underground escape routes if that fails. When I reached the edge of the forest, I hid behind a tree and looked back towards the town. One of the aliens, something that looked something like a permian sea creature equipped with wings and some advanced variety of propulsion engines (not rockets, that involves combustion, and rockets don't whir like a helicopter) holding a large storage container with an open ramp-like door, like on an 18-wheeler's trailer. Inside the container (which I realized that, while carted around by the airborne alien, turned it into an organic dropship. As unsettling as the concept was, I was still somewhat impressed they managed to pull something like that off.) were what were obviously soldiers. They looked very human in shape, with metallic armor and masks with blue lenses which obscured the eyes, each of them holding a futuristic and inefficient-looking assault rifle.

CRAK!
CRAK!

Suddenly, two strange cracks, almost like energy bursts, snapped through the air. Naturally, I looked up in response. In the sky, trailed by a short length of green rings, were 2 spaceships, radically different in design from both the UFO here and these invaders. They were quite aerodynamic, vauguly oval in shape and very large. I was fairly certain that was weaponry mounted all over them, but they were so far in the air it was hard to be sure. There was a glow of a strange whitish-blue light emanating from the rear end, where the oval design just opened, likely because those were the engines.

THOOTHOOTHOOTHOOM!

My attention snapped back to the ground when I heard a stream of what I assumed to be gunfire, though definitely not one built on Earth. Rather than muffled explosions of ignited gunpowder, the sound seemed closer to an exceptionally low-tone energy burst, almost to the point of sounding like a drum. Shaking my head to rid myself of my off-track thoughts, I looked at the scene in front of me. Another spaceship, 4 small engines on the side to support its weight and one on the back for propulsion, had flown down to the square. It appeared to be armed with some kind of missile launcher, if the holes on the side pointed to the front of it were any indication, and it was definitely armed with a machine gun, or at least the alien equivalent, which was currently dispensing what were definitely energy bolts onto the soldiers I saw just before the arrival of the ship. Each bolt seemed to push material outwards, like the kinetic energy of a small explosion, with each object they made contact with. Considering what the gunship was aiming at, it made a sight I wish I could unsee.

Another dropship, radically different in design from the first one, had also flown down. Except it was now flying back up in the general direction of the spaceships, as was evidenced by the fact it had its dispensed cargo on the - wait, those are humans. I pinched myself hard on the arm to make sure I wasn't dreaming, despite the fact I suspected they must not be from this dimension. (Ford's Superportal alone gives me enough incentive to believe this.) The equipment, for example, was well beyond anything anyone (excluding Great Uncle Ford) in the world would have the mental capacity and creativity to construct. They were wearing a kind of armor, like an exo-suit straight out of a sci-fi movie, and using weapons that looked like a cross between a modern-day assault rifle and the strange the inefficient-looking weapons the other soldiers were using. Who were currently engaging in combat with the armored aliens. I decided I've seen enough and ran into the forest.

That brings me to now, 25 or 30 minutes later, running through the Gravity Falls Woods, trying to make my way towards the Mystery Shack, accompanied by the sounds of reinforcements shooting at each other and significantly louder, more powerful energy bursts landing in the forests at random intervals and locations, maybe looking for more targets.

Suddenly, I saw a building through the trees ahead of me. I passed a few more and I emerged into a clearing. One with a sign on the roof that read 'Mystery Shack', with the S resting on the slanted roof just below it, which comically changed the latter word to 'Hack'.

'Made it', I thought. I ran towards the door, hoping everyone else was okay.

"Dipper?" I almost thought I could hear Mabel from here.

"Dipper."

"Dipper!"

"DIPPER!"

Wait… that is Mabel.

Sure enough, the sound of the excited voice of my twin sister roused me from my deep thought. I looked up from the old news article- more accurately, what was left of it, since the edges were burned and worn away from 20 years of being in a sheltered box- and up to Mabel. My optimistic twin sister was standing some 5 inches from my face, something I've gotten quite used to, having lived with her for almost all of my life. She was wearing a smile that would have been pretty had it not been stretched to a psychotically excited grin. Her hazel eyes almost looked like they were vibrating with energy, probably from her unhealthily excessive sugar intake, and her curled, waist length brown hair was held by a green headband. Matching her headband was a poofy green sweater with a green 4-leaved clover in the middle of it. A caption above and below the clover said "HAPPY ST. PATTY'S DAY!" in golden letters. She was wearing a dark green skirt and white sneakers with green socks to go along with it. "WE'RE HERE!" she shouted at a distance of less than half a foot from me.

I was too lost in thought to be too annoyed with her.

"Yeah. Thanks, Mabel," I said rather bluntly

Mabel's look of excitement flickered to one of great concern in the span of less than a second.

"Dipper, are you still moping over what happened to Wendy and Tambry?"

I looked back at the old news article still in my hand. Despite being a 20-year-old piece of paper, it was still very legible and visible. The heading said SIEGE OF GRAVITY FALLS: INITIAL STRIKE KILLS DOZENS. The picture was taken somewhere in the town square of a small lumber town with a water tower that read Gravity Falls on it, probably the least concerning thing in the background. Among several flying alien-like creatures that looked like sea creatures right out of the Permian Era, there was a tall, dark spire in the distance and an explosion not far behind the buildings. 2 large spaceships of different design from the spire also filled the background. I thought it was ironic how those 2 warships were easily the best thing about the Event. To say nothing of how some of my friends died during the siege….

"Yeah, I am," I responded after a brief pause to collect my thoughts.

"Dipper, that wasn't your fault," Mabel said. "Besides, they're fine! They joined the Salan Army, remember?"

"First, it's 'Solan', and second, I know that it wasn't my fault," I said, starting to get mildly annoyed with my sister's unconscious tendency to press for details. I understood she was at least trying to make me feel better, but I digress. "I just wish I could have convinced her and her friends not to go into the forest to do... whatever they had in mind. Wendy and Tambry lost half their limbs and almost passed out from blood loss. They nearly died, Mabel, and all of their friends and family did."

I'm positive I sounded much more cynical and condescending than necessary, even to me. To some people, they would have been put off or annoyed. To those who knew me (personally, at least), It was normal. I had a tendency to get like that when I was annoyed, frustrated, or under stress, a habit that started when I was 16 during the Siege.

"Dipper… you can't worry about it forever. If It makes you feel any better, they're taking some time off to see us in Berlin when we're done. And they're bringing Mom, Dad, Grunkle Stan, Grunkle Ford, and Candy!"

I softened a bit as she said this, slowly shaking my head in disbelief. I think I might have even smiled. (And before you ask, no, we are not together. I've had enough people on the internet in any dimension I've been to say that, even though we're siblings. even if it is moderately commonplace in the Sol Union. Yes, you read that right. If you don't plan on visiting, disregard it; it's better for your sanity.) I put the article on the desk I was sitting in front of and stood up to respond. "How are you always so positive?" I asked. "I would have thought you would have at least some bad memories of the siege. Didn't Grenda die during it?"

"Well, how are you so level-headed and able to pick exactly who to trust so accurately?" she responded. "Especially since you're so paranoid!"

"It's a talent," I responded. "Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. Besides, anywhere we go..."

"...We go together," She finished our Great Uncles' favorite catchphrase from when they were 12.

We looked at each other, a combination of determination and platonic affection our eyes.

BLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPP!

"AHHH! What the hell!?"

"AHHH! What's that noise!?"

"AHHH! I'm awake!"

Three voices screamed at the same time thanks to the sound that had completely ruined the moment.

I made a mental note to try not to swear again while we were here when I remembered who was here with us. While a minor sound-induced headache made itself known I looked in the direction of what was the loudest air horn I've ever heard.

"Oww! Who in the Multiverse makes an air horn this loud!?"

"No kidding! It would've been better if you'd just dumped water on me!"

The speakers were 2 teenage girls at the other end of the APC, one sitting disheveled on one of the 2 bunk beds, as if she just woke up, and the other standing, ready to go, next to said bed, holding aforementioned air horn. They were Diane and Rose Pines, my 16-year-old twin daughters.

Diane, the one holding the air horn, had hazel eyes like mine and hair a tan color somewhere between my dark brown hair and my wife's blond hair, which was currently in a medium-length ponytail. She was very skinny, to the point where she wouldn't look too out of place in the back of a library, but someone who's pushed her over the deep end, usually one of the bullies at her High School the few times she actually goes (she and her sister are home-schooled. Don't feel too bad, though. Me and my uncle ford tip well into the higher spectrums of the Sol Union's WAIS scale, both of us ranking in at 'genius'. Plus, we both have numerous PhDs. ), but she is startlingly strong for what she looks like, likely things to the self-defence training I've been giving her and Rose for the last 4 years. She was wearing camo sweatpants, blue and white tennis shoes with white socks, and an orange t-shirt with an atom silhouette on the front, along with an open dark green bomber jacket I recognized as the one Mabel made her for her last birthday. On her head was a very old and worn blue and white trucker cap with a blue pine tree on it - the same one I got on my very first summer in Gravity Falls when I was 12.

Rose, the one on the bed, could very easily and accurately be taken for her twin. She was sitting on the edge of the lower left (to my perspective) bed, a position she adopted because of her abrupt wake-up call. She, like her sister, was quite skinny but unlike her had a small amount of physical muscle, so she looked more like an athlete than a bookworm. had Diane's tan hair, although a mess because of the fact she was just asleep, but had my wife's bright blue eyes, rather than hazel ones. Despite the fact she was snoring under the covers of the bed for the past 3 hours and 48 minutes, she was dressed ready to go as well. She was wearing grey cargo shorts and a camo T-shirt with the 21st-century marine insignia and a white caption that said "pain is weakness leaving the body". She was wearing dark green sneakers with black socks. For whatever reason, she was also wearing her favorite (and only) accessory, a necklace with the Solan Army insignia and a military dog tag (birthday gift from Wendy) with her name on it. In short, inappropriate clothing for the still-cool weather outside.

"Your Great Grunkle Ford," I responded, holding my head trying to stifle my fortunately fading headache. "Got it last April. His idea of a joke."

"I'll never understand how Grunkle Stan convinced him," said Mabel.

"It's Grunkle Stan," I replied, my headache completely fading by this time. "He can be pretty convincing when he wants to be. We didn't find out about his brothers portal until 2 thirds of the way through the summer."

"You mean Great-Grunkle Ford's Superportal?" Rose asked.

"Yeah, that. You know, it's lucky Stan activated the thing at all. A couple of FBI agents and a Black Ops task force almost confiscated the thing."

"I don't think you've told me this one before. May you please continue!?" Diane's tone shifted from one of casual banter to one of great excitement. (Kind of like what I would do if I was about to hear one of these stories. Well, she is my daughter, after all.) She sat on the chair I vacated in order to make herself comfortable.

"With pleasure. It started when I found Great Uncle Ford's third journal in..."

BLAP! BLAP!

Two quick but loud honks from the horn, which Rose was now holding (Diane dropped it when she asked about the story), Immediately brought me back to the present. (Or would that be 'future'? Do other dimensions count? I'll have to ask Governor Schneider later.)

"Sorry about that, Dad, but may we please get… whatever we're doing here started please?" Rose interjected, with a rather apologetic tone. (All things considered, she did interrupt me.) "Also, what exactly are we doing here? All you said is that it was a 'surprise,'"

"I'll explain outside. Please get your stuff ready and…wait." I just noticed we were one number short. "Where did Mabel go?"

"Outside," the snarky military fanatic responded simply, gesturing to the now-open door.

"Probably while I was talking." I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose, annoyed with my bad habit. I really had to work on trailing off on conversations. Especially when on the field.

"Should I…?" Asked Diane, gesturing towards the open door. The handle of one of Ford's old magnet guns was sticking out of the left outside pocket, and she was currently putting a pocket knife in her right one with her remaining free hand. (What? Be prepared for every contingency, especially with my dangerous line of work. Especially since both of my daughters have almost 4 years' worth of self-defence training under their belts.)

"Go ahead," I responded.

Diane walked past the beds and out the door. Rose, however, paused at the bed she was laying on to grab a few things. She knelt onto it and reached to the other end, placing the airhorn against the wall and bringing out a 21st-century camo colored Army knapsack and a belt of the same color with a plastic handgun holster attached to it, both birthday presents from Mabel. She opened the knapsack to inspect it. After a second she smiled, allegedly satisfied with its contents, and closed it again. Next, she reached into her pillow and pulled out a vintage and well-cared-for 20th-century Colt M1911. She pulled out the clip and looked into the top. She smiled again, and pushed the probably fully loaded 7-round magazine back into the sidearm. Finally, she pulled back the slide until it clicked, then released it, which allowed the slide to move back in place with a 'click!'. (I noticed the way Rose loaded the handgun was very slow and clunky, like she has never loaded it before. Quite justified, since she hasn't had a chance to use the thing since she got it on her birthday. I doubt she's even fired the thing before. Even so, that doesn't mean I'm not questioning Grunkle Stan's idea of a birthday present. Owning 10 guns doesn't mean you can just be giving them out to minors, family or otherwise.) Then she put the weapon in her holster, pulled her Knapsack over her shoulder, then walked out the door.

Once they were outside, I turned back towards my desk and looked at it. On it was an open journal with a very accurately hand-drawn map of germany and poland during World War 2 (by Mabel) and neat, very legible handwriting depicting plans and expected finds for my trip to Auschwitz (which wasn't much, and by me), a tin filled with chewed pens, a small box big enough to hold a sheet of paper, aforementioned news article (I could almost hear the gunfire, whirring 'aircraft', rumbling warships, and explosions from artillery, grenades, and dark energy bursts just from thinking about it), a pencil holder half-filled with fresh writing utensils, and a strange-looking pistol. To someone from any "modern day" dimension (ones with an Earth specifically), It would be a very confusing device, for a number of reasons, the most glaring one being it's odd, futuristic design. (Said design only barely resembled a pistol, really. It still had a trigger, handle, barrel, and vague, pistol-like shape. The rest of it looked very much like a mad scientist's choice of sidearm, which in hindsight, is somewhat justified. At the time of its construction, I didn't have access to many materials, apart from old weaponry from the Siege and the crashed spaceship in just outside of Gravity Falls. Disregarding its slight pistol resemblance, it still looked very strange for a pistol. In fact, it looked something like a Sci-Fi blaster from a 1950s cartoon, and even then it still looked quite different, primarily the part just above the handle that resembled a drum magnasine (I've been spending too much time around Rose… I never talk this much about weaponry). On the left side of said drum was a meter in the middle of it with different labels (Magnet +, Magnet -, Light, etc.). To someone from another dimension, usually one with an Earth, it was a very confusing device. To someone from the Sol Union, it's a very handy multi-use device with added application for self defense. In layman's terms, a "utility pistol".)

The thing that caught my attention the most, however, was the family picture sitting to the left. It was Diane, Rose, Mabel, my wife, Pacifica Northwest, and me. Pacifica was wearing a teal blouse with a skirt of the same color with matching high heels. She had sky blue eyes and blond hair hanging down her back, which was, contrary to popular belief, not dyed. I was wearing a red t-shirt with an open brown bomber jacket the exact same design as Diane's, only mine was a larger size and brown. There was a black bandelier with 3 futuristic-looking grenades strapped to it slung across my shirt. I was wearing black pants with boots the same shade as my jacket. It was the same outfit I was wearing right now. The most eye-catching thing about me was the birthmark on my head, a series of dots and lines on my forehead, making a perfect sketch of the big dipper. Just like the pattern on the APC, except red. Mabel was wearing a red sweater with a shooting star with a rainbow tail on it. She was wearing a black skirt, black flats, and white socks along with it, mirroring her favorite set of clothes from when we were 12. Diane and Rose were wearing the same sets of clothes they were right now. I looked at the picture, glad that, unlike my Great Uncles, my childhood and life were tolerable and made me and Mabel who we are today, despite the Siege.

I grabbed the utility pistol opened the left side of my jacket, revealing a holster attached to my waist. I put the handgun in it and let go of my jacket, concealing my armament. Then I carefully picked up the 20-year-old piece of paper, opened the box on my desk, and placed the paper in it before closing the box once more. Finally, I closed the open Journal, revealing the cover. The entire binding, cover, and back had the same "starry sky" pattern as the symbol on the APC's armor. The only thing different thing was, rather than a Big Dipper sketch, there was a golden number printed on the cover: 7. I picked up my journal and 3 of the pens and put then into pockets on the interior of my bomber jacket.

"Hey, Dad, are you coming?" Rose called.

"Yeah, on my way," I responded, taking what looked like a watch and slipping it around my wrist. I walked out the door, took a deep breath, and looked up at the still-legible German inscription on the gate arch. I was ready, and somewhat excited, to do what has been on my bucket list for a long time: exploring the Sol Union's Auschwitz.

March 17, 52,062 CE

Sol Union, abandoned extermination facility of Auschwitz-Birkenau,

Poland. Pines family requested to Investigate death camp. Acting

on tip from German Governor Friedrich Schneider

There you have it, the first chapter of The Buried Reich! With luck, my Dimensional Union installments will actually be a continuing thing, as I don't want it to die any more than you would. My 2 "Pines children" OCs are partially inspired by some fanart I've seen, as far as gender and hair color are.

Oh, and please remember to comment and follow, and please keep it supportive. I've never received more than one comment, but I don't want to know what it feels like to get a bad one. Oh, and please, no Grammar Nazis unless it's supportive.

In regards to updates, I don't have a consistent schedule, But chapters are likely to be sparse.

Until next time, bye!

Update: 3 drafts and chapter 2 isn't out yet? Wow. I think I'll need a beta reader.

Another update: I now have an account on ArchiveOfOurOwn. If you must, contact me there. Once I figure it out, I'll (hopefully) get back to you.