"To think," sighed Goebbels, exasperated, "that we finally took care of Rommel, and still all of this won't stop …" He continued up the road, curling his fists.

The urgent news had been of an uprising. It seemed as if a large scaled rebellion was deliberately planned in another city for when they knew that the armies would not be there.

"It does not appear to be a pressing situation currently, but it has the potential to become one upon our return," Günsche remarked rationally. "What is more, they have great numbers behind them. Our armies surely need their rest."

"But they're not that big of a deal, are they?" Jodl asked, walking up towards Günsche. "We've destroyed Rommel and made peace with Fritzsche. How much of a problem could they be?"

"Surely so," Hitler agreed, swiping his dark hair, stained with blood, to the side. "All we have to do is suppress them one by one."

"Exactly," Fegelein said, exchanging a nod with Hitler.

Among the casual laughter and smiling of his generals, Burgdorf was alone, staring at the powder on his unusually still hand.

"General." Günsche, noticing Burgdorf away from the men, walked over to him, his head cocked in concern. "Is something the matter?"

"No," Burgdorf replied after a moment's silence. He looked up at last, though slowly, when he was attacked, scanning his men.

These men, who had believed in him, and whose belief led them to seek his divine rule as surely as he did for himself. All of them must be full of their own hopes and dreams, hopes and dreams that have yet to become anything. That is just the way things are. There was no reason to believe that the simple act of killing one man would bring about a new era. No … in order to do that, Burgdorf realized, he must retain his power.

Again, he looked down at his hand. "Why does it have to be this way?" he whispered. Even though he had finally bested his greatest enemy, was it worthless, after all?

Krebs was still spending his days, praying for the safe return on Burgdorf's army. He decided to go back into the town just to stretch his legs a tad. However, as he walked through the town, there are rumors of General Burgdorf - none of them with any basis in truth, and none of them hood.

"Burgdorf is that monster who murdered that entire village and holds their heads as trophies, isn't he?"

"Are you not afraid to work in the bunker of such a horrible man?" Krebs skidded to a halt as he realized that the man was asking him that question. "I came to Berlin after being told it was the safest place in Germany, and now the town is going to become the most fearsome place of all!"

"Burgdorf is not that type of man," Krebs tried to explain calmly, attempting to reassure the dubious townspeople with a smile. However, that made them look even more troubled than before. It almost seemed as if they were more shocked by the rumors not being true over the horrors of their lies. I wonder what Burgdorf would say if he knew this is what people here think of him … Krebs sighed. "Well, not to say he does not have his frightening moments, mind you. But, everything he does, he does for the sake of making the world better for everyone."

Another voice joined in. "The real question is if a better world will truly come from such acts at all." The voice, which came from another townsperson, looked off into the distant mountains, narrowing his eyes. From there, he could still see the scorched earth of the church up there, in the town, still barren from when it was burned. Oh.

"One wonders if someone who can set the God ablaze is truly human at all," the person went on.

Krebs bit his lip, lacking the words to respond. He realized that the conflagration at the town and church still lingered there, leaving its terror still in the hearts of those in the city. He isn't a monster … but how to make them see that? Eventually, the man offered him a smile, in the hope of easing his distress.

"So you're the servant, then?" he asked, seemingly without malice.

Krebs shrugged. "I guess you could call me that … I'd like to think I'm an assistant." Though he managed to say that much, and nod, the one thing he could not bring himself to say is that he would be Burgdorf's husband.

Several days later, word of Rommel's death arrived in the suburbs of Berlin. The generals of the Third Reich were beside themselves, seeing an end to a long history of strife and bloodshed. Burgdorf, too, finally returned, stepping across the threshold of the renovated building across from Berlin for the first time.

Krebs stood beside him, his jaw gaping as he looked up at the new Reich Chancellery. This was the brand new version - the other one had been destroyed. The chancellery had a stern, authoritarian appearance. There were two bronze statues accompanying the entrance - the Armed Forces and the Party. Burgdorf walked in, with Krebs at his heels. As they walked through the chancellery, they entered through a court of honor. By the way of an outside staircase, they entered a medium sized reception room. Double doors stretched through the hallway and opened into a large hall clad in mosaic. Krebs gaped as they continued to walk, and they came across a flight of stairs. The two climbed them with ease, and passed through a round room with domed ceiling, and saw before them a gallery 480 feet long.

"Come on." Burgdorf led Krebs towards a few more flights of stairs, and Krebs realized that Burgdorf was taking him to a balcony.

As they reached the balcony, Krebs could not help but gasp again at the sight of beautiful scenery before his eyes. "Wow!" Of course, the town was beautiful, but the view of a lake spread before them magnificently as well. "It's beautiful up here." He looked back, seeing Burgdorf standing one step behind him. But when he kindly acknowledged him with a nod, Krebs could not miss the way his eyes strayed down to his right hand.

"Burgdorf, did something happen?" Krebs asked.

Burgdorf jumped at the sound of his voice, immediately moving his hand behind his back. "Nothing," he replied, attempting to try to recover from his shock.

"But …"

"Don't. Just keep looking. This is the world I have made for you."

"I know …" Krebs' heart warmed, its blaze starting to reach his cheeks with a blush. The world before him now is even more beautiful, haven risen up from all the hardships General Burgdorf had to take upon himself for it. Hm … Suddenly, he noticed an empty field next to the chancellery. "Burgdorf, what's over there?"

"Oh, that." Burgdorf followed his gaze. "That's where we're gonna live. When it is done, we will move there, and spend our mornings where we can look down even at the sun."

"Burgdorf," Krebs murmured, thinking of the stunningly beautiful place that it will surely turn out to be. Burgdorf has really become a divine ruler … I guess Hitler's all right with it. "Only you could have done this."

Burgdorf's eyes widened, but he suddenly returned back to his normal expression. "That's right. None of this would have happened if I had been unable to do what I had." He glanced at Krebs, the world still reflected in his eyes, a smile on his face. However, his eyes soon fell again to his right hand.

What's wrong with his hand? Worried that he may have been injured in battle, Krebs reached out to take it with his own. After he stroked it a few times, as if to make sure that it feels the same as he remembered it, Burgdorf spoke. "It's an amazing view … just as I thought it would be." His smile finally returned to his face, his heart soothed by Krebs' touch. "I shall take you as my husband three days hence. See that you are ready."

"I will," Krebs breathed. "I will." And just like that … I'm going to be Burgdorf's husband. If someone had told him this the day he arrived at the bunker just as a general, he would have thought them mad. To think that day would come when not only that he would love this man and he would love him, but that he would become his divine husband …

"Krebs, what are you staring at?" Burgdorf asked.

"I'm sorry," Krebs apologized. "I'm just … moved."

"You do not have time for such foolishness any longer," Burgdorf purred, "you brazen little thing." He reached out and traced his jawline with his fingers, a smirk upon his lips.

The memories of all of the days of unspeakable anxieties awaiting his return from the front came flooding back, all of the nights he had spent weeping, imagining the day he left him as their last together, as their lips met. Krebs seeked the touch of his body, of his lips, wanting desperately to feel the joy of him being here.