Berlin, April 29th – 1945
The walls of the Führer's office shook as the Allied artillery shells struck the immediate area around the building. A short man in glasses burst through the door and reported that the American and British forces had landed on German soil.
"Cursed hunde! I will not be taken as a prisoner to those pandering imbeciles! Mir ein Automobil jetzt holen!"
The man saluted as the Fuhrer turned to look out at his home, his Germany, battered and beaten and on the retreat. He would not be taken to trial for his so-called 'crimes', nor would he suffer the same fate as that Italienisch dirt Mussolini. He would retain his dignity, even in death, and so be remembered for all time. He walked slowly around his desk and slumped into the seat while opening a small drawer which contained only one item – a Luger P08 pistol. He removed it sluggishly and hefted it from one hand to the other before placing it in his side holster.
As he stood and prepared to leave, the office was instantly bathed in a brilliant white light that forced him to cower behind his hands until it had passed. Once it had dissolved and his eyes had resumed something approaching their normal function again he looked into the centre of his office, and directly at the three figures that stood before them. They each wore similar outfits of something resembling flexible steel and over their faces with two circular eyes and a rectangular mouth, were two oddly shaped 'handlebar'-like protrusions. One of them stepped forward slowly, its feet clanging on the floor as it neared him. In an instant the gun was drawn and unloaded at the figure who continued to approach, seemingly unaware of the bullets which glinted off its metal skin like water off wax.
"Adolf Hitler, there is nothing to fear."