Book 1: Ascend From Darkness

by RadZakpak

Ascend From Darkness is the first book in a five book series adapting the Call of Duty Zombie Aether storyline into a full-fledged series of novels. Ascend From Darkness follows the creation and downfall of Group 935 leading up to the formation of Ultimis.

Dedicated to the kind folks at for their contributions to the story and friendship over the years.

Based on Treyarch's Call of Duty Zombies storyline.

Prologue: Nacht

An abandoned airfield

Sgt. John Raine

June 4th, 1945

"Status?"

Unbroken silence within utter blackness.

"Damn it, is anyone out there?! I can't see a damn thing… "

Sergeant Raine felt around the dark cockpit, searching for a recognizable element of the plane's interior to orient himself, or better yet, any sign of life.

As he felt around, broken shards of glass from the cockpit window and coarse gravel grazed against his palms. Raine could now be sure that the plane had not turned upside down, with the base of the pilot's chair felt below him. Now that he was sure how the plane was arranged, he could find a way out.

This wasn't how the mission was supposed to go. Following Germany's formal surrender, the OSS had enlisted Raine and four other men in his squad to ensure the safety of a spy by the name of Peter McCain as he was escorted into the country. Their primary objective was ensuring McCain infiltrated Group 935, a scientific research organization partnered with the Germans during the war. They flew under the cover of night to avoid arousing any suspicion about Agent McCain.

As Raine crawled toward a source of light, he began to remember the moments leading up to the crash. All the systems aboard had malfunctioned and the engines had given out, seemingly at random. Perhaps it was sabotaged by agents working for Group 935? It seemed unlikely, given the amount of preparation that went into this vital mission. If this truly was a freak accident, American forces would soon recover Raine and any survivors of the crash.

McCain must be one hell of a spy for the US to send three planes carrying squads of US Marines as an escort, Raine thought. During the war, Group 935 had aligned with Nazi Germany and they may be responsible for numerous war crimes committed within that partnership. With an American spy on the inside, they can be exposed for who they truly are, and their research can be put to greater use. At least, that's what Raine was told.

Raine could now see faint moonlight seeping in where the plane had crumpled upon crashing. Cautious, the Sergeant drew his Colt and crawled towards the hole. His ankle had been badly twisted after being tossed about in the plane. He eyed the foggy landscape through the breach in the fuselage: No one in sight. He waited a few more moments for any sign of life.

Radio silence.

Raine crawled out from the debris onto the harsh gravel outside, and a sudden odor struck him. He was so taken aback by the scent his arms crumpled beneath him and his eyes began to water. It was the stench of rotting human flesh, reminding him of Guadalcanal. Balance regained, Raine raised himself up, eyeing his surroundings: No Germans, but none of his fellow soldiers either.

On the other side of the plane was a seemingly abandoned bunker, worn and barren from many hard fought battles of the past, but now lying still in this foggy airfield. The thick fog prevented Raine from seeing anything in any direction besides the bunker and a couple of power lines. On closer inspection, the bunker was caved in and heavily damaged due to falling debris from the plane, but the structure was still standing, lying dormant and silent midst the fog.

Surrounding the small bunker were rusty metal barrels and a few German army trucks, their beds full of cargo. Upon a closer inspection, he found the crates within were marked with an insignia: A pair of wings, between them the head of a wolf. There was also another symbol: It looked like a gear surrounding a hand with electrons spinning around the center; The arm of the hand was made up of the Waffen SS insignia, and in the center, the numbers 9-3-5.

Group 935 was here; At this abandoned airfield. For what purpose?

At the nose of the plane, a similar truck was seen destroyed by the crash, its cargo spread out along the flat ground around the plane. One such crate had been flung several yards near where Raine had emerged. From a large hole bashed into the side of the crate, strange, glowing blue rocks could be seen inside.

Raine waited a few moments before attempting to get back to his feet. The pain in his ankle was nigh unbearable, yet Raine stood up, deciding to take a chance to find the others in his squad.

"Rook!"

Only the wind.

"Turner, are you with me?!"

Waning light.

"Hunter! Come on, anybody?!"

Rolling fog.

For what seemed like an eternity, there was only silence. Then, faintly, a voice called out to Sergeant Raine.

"Sarge! Come quick!"

The voice was coming from the bunker, and Raine could not quite catch whom the voice matched. He lifted himself up on his good leg and staggered towards fellow life with renewed purpose, before stopping dead in his tracks.

It erupted like thunder, the boom echoing across the desolate landscape. There were groans and yelps in the distance, becoming clearer as something was approaching. A group of yellow-orange lights appeared in pairs deep within the fog, shifting about erratically. They started small and grew ever larger until the outlines of their bodies became clear. Several dozen, around the size of grown men, with piercing orange eyes and a hellish moan, stumbled across the field towards Raine. Distinguishing features could now be seen: Flailing arms, flapping jaws, and grey skin. As they came closer, the monsters' intentions became clear, and they were heading straight for Raine.

Raine dove into the plane to find a gun with more ammunition for the ambush, but the shambling bodies had transitioned into a full sprint, shoving each other away to try and reach his position. Raine dropped his Colt in the darkness, and was forced deeper and deeper into the plane as the beasts piled into the tiny, cramped hole in the side of the fuselage. There was no route of escape as they pushed even further inward like a wall of flesh. Raine ran his hand along the walls to find what he was looking for. Finally, the rations compartment was in front of him. Raine desperately scooped weeks of rations out and stuffed himself inside the tiny compartment. He could barely fit his head in, being forced into the fetal position with his head in his lap. Raine shut the door in a panic, gripping the emergency interior handle with fear.

The sound of banging, crashing, groaning, and clawing were heard outside the compartment for the next hour. Raine had begun to panic from his claustrophobia, but his fear of the beasts that wished to reach him inside was far greater. Sweat and tears soaked the shaking man within the plane, trapped by an unknown enemy.

From within his prison the soldier heard the faint sounds of gunfire outside. Surely that was his squad-mates coming to his rescue. They would kill the things outside, and finally this Hell could be over.

But the banging and screaming continued. Sergeant Raine stayed within the plane's ration compartment only a few days before finding peace in death. He had water on his person which lasted a short time, but the rations, only a few feet away from him, were beneath the boots of the monsters. No one came back for Raine, and his squad's screams of terror were heard by no one else but the undead.

Act I – Awakening The Giant

14 Years Earlier...

Chapter 1: Induction

Auditorium, The Giant ("Der Riese"), near Breslau

Dr. Ludvig Maxis

May 10th, 1931

Ludvig Maxis sipped his tea one last time before making his way to the stage in front of his collaborators: The soon-to-be first wave of Group 935 scientists. He approached the podium and adjusted his microphone to his own greater-than-average height. The recruits grew silent, eager to hear whatever he had to say. Doctor Maxis motioned to the audio technician to begin recording the induction ceremony, and he initiated the speech towards his dazzled, child-like admirers.

"Gentlemen, allow me to take this opportunity to welcome you to Group 935."

Younger members of the crowd perked up, eagerly anticipating their careers in scientific research under Doctor Maxis. The older, more experienced scientists sat silent out of respect, awaiting Maxis' official instruction.

"This is a prestigious moment in the history of our race. You represent the future of technological advancement. You are the pioneers of human discovery. In your hands lies the destiny of mankind. In our hands is a great power and with that power comes a price. You have volunteered to be part of this great experiment and with that decision comes the responsibility of absolute secrecy."

The crowd stayed silent and respectful of the Doctor. Maxis paused and his tone changed to a more strict form.

"No one is to know what you do, where you work, what our research has uncovered, or what our purpose will be. You will have no further contact with your governments or with your families. Your decision to fully dedicate your lives to Group 935 is absolute. In your lockers you will find your field ops manual which will direct you should our manifesto get compromised. We cannot afford to let this power fall into the wrong hands and therefore the field ops manual should be considered your bible. Make your preparations now; A new dawn is beginning for mankind."

Ludvig Maxis stepped down from the podium, the audience clapping uproariously, and he found his way off the stage to meet with the new recruits. For the next ten minutes he shook the hands and patted the shoulders of humanity's greatest scientists from every corner of the globe. These great men all held a fiery passion for scientific advancement. Many naive, youthful scientists nervously approached Doctor Maxis, asking for signatures on distributed copies of his work. One young man hailed from Russia, leaving the Soviet Union to pursue his dream of becoming a great Physicist and working under the esteemed Ludvig Maxis. Another had arrived just last week from the United States. He was the first of his family to receive a full education and had never left his home country before arriving in Europe.

Most interesting were the words of older scientists invited personally by Doctor Maxis. Maxis was greatly honored to be in the presence of those he considered his peers, and conversations he had with these men gave him hope for the future of Group 935. A long time partner in science, Doctor Porter, greeted Maxis from the crowd.

"Doctor Maxis! I cannot believe this day has finally come. I know you have been dreaming of this collaboration for so long, and I am honored to be a part of it."

"Thank you, Doctor. It has been arduous work, yes, but I see light at the end of this tunnel! Der Riese is more than a money pit, as you can see around you, Doctor Porter!"

"Oh, Ludvig, you know I only meant such comments in jest. Der Riese, and Group 935, are certainly worth all of your efforts!"

Nearby sat a table covered with refreshments, fresh fruit, and sandwiches for the crowd of scientists. Doctor Maxis poured two glasses of wine, handing one to his colleague, Doctor Porter.

Maxis raised his glass for a toast, "To 'Improving the human condition'."

Porter raised his own glass before downing a portion of the wine along with Maxis.

Doctor Porter soon finished the glass before handing it to an attendant at the table. "I should begin getting acquainted with my new laboratory. Again, I must thank you for this opportunity. I will begin studying this new element. Just how much was discovered here?"

"More than enough for the foreseeable future. When the German government sent us here to study the meteor, I had no idea the research would be so… life changing. Element 115 has unprecedented potential to change the world for the better."

"I foresee Group 935 making great strides in the field of science. Future generations will be inspired by what you've accomplished here. Anyhow, I will see you throughout the week, Doctor Maxis. Say hallo to Hilda for me. Auf Wiedersehen, my friend."

Doctor Porter returned to the crowd, leaving Maxis with his own thoughts at the concessions table. His one reservation regarding Group 935 was Hilda. When Ludvig met her, they both bonded over their wishes to start a family. Ludvig dreamed of owning a house in the countryside without need for any other earthly desire. His wife, Hilda, at his side to love until they reach their deathbeds, and two children, a girl and a boy, to pass their love onto. However, Maxis feared this love may soon be overshadowed by his career: His passion. Group 935 and this new element presented an incredible opportunity to improve the human condition, but with Maxis at the helm, his own future family may be neglected in the process. But his life must be fully dedicated to Group 935's ambitious goals if they are to succeed. For now, Doctor Maxis pushed these growing fears to the back of his mind. Hilda must understand the great importance of his work at Der Riese.

Maxis extended his empty glass to the event attendant, hoping more wine could drown his woes. At the other end of the table was a middle-aged man, his head bald aside from a splotch of hair at the very top; The man leaned in closely to the sandwich tray, examining its contents before he noticed Doctor Maxis gawking at his peculiar mannerisms. The man raised up, a smile coming to his face, as he extended his hand for a handshake.

"Doctor Maxis, I am such an admirer of your work. I must say, I am beyond pleased you have invited me to join your organization. Trust me when I say that I am fully dedicated to Group 935's goals. I expect many wondrous things to surface from our collaboration, Doctor."

Doctor Maxis shook the German scientist's clammy hands, feeling anxious due to the man's tight grip and peculiar, darting eye movements.

"Yes, it is... marvelous that a scientist such as yourself should accept my humble invitation, Doctor..." He paused for a moment, unsure of the scientist's name.

"Oh! Mein Gott, I have been foolish! I am Doctor Groph."

"Ah, Doctor Groph. I am pleased to have your expertise here at The Giant, erm, Der Riese. Now... I believe I also sent an invitation to your partner as well. Has he given any thought-"

"Albert und I had many, many, many disagreements regarding Electrodynamics. I would not consider us partners, hardly even acquaintances! The last time I heard from him he was considering leaving for the United States. If not for its women, America would have no redeeming qualities... Trust me, Doctor Maxis, his work was not worth your time. But, I possess the skills you will need to place Group 935 at the top of the scientific world."

"I look forward to it, Doctor Groph. I should-"

Groph removed the top slice of bread from his sandwich, dissecting its contents as he interrupted, "Are you familiar with the Vril-Ya, Doctor Maxis?"

Maxis blinked twice, trying to grasp at the question.

"I... have read The Coming Race if that is what you are asking."

"Nein, nein, there is much more to be learned from the Vril-Ya than Lytton's work, though it is a fine start."

"You will have to tell me more once we've settled in here. Right now, I should really be going. I have some directorial business to attend to."

Doctor Maxis promptly handed his glass to the table attendant and prepared to make his way towards the exit of the auditorium, away from the babbling nutcase.

"Of course, Doctor. Thank you for the opportunity! I look forward to the numerous discoveries we will make together!"

Doctor Maxis nodded back to the distant Doctor Groph and exited through the doors of the auditorium outside. The night air warmed Maxis' skin as he passed through the construction area that would one day be the courtyard of the facility. Doctor Maxis progressed past several scientists wandering towards the central building housing Group 935's administrative offices, before entering the brand new building himself. Maxis entered the room at the end of the hallway, his own personal office space, before settling into his leather desk chair.

This first wave of recruits would prove a strong base for the organization, but Group 935 must always be searching for more minds to advance its projects. One scientist in particular had been making a name for himself in the community by the name Doctor Edward Richtofen. Doctor Richtofen had published several books with his findings in physics and biology along with his partner in science, Doctor Baron Schuster. Both being based in Germany and being exceptionally skilled in their field, the two may prove valuable assets in the future, and Doctor Maxis sought to watch their careers closely. With such great minds at its disposal and the power of the new Element 115, Group 935 could be an unstoppable force of change for humanity.

For weeks prior, Doctor Maxis had been keeping correspondence with Doctor Richtofen, exchanging ideas for potential projects if the two were to collaborate. Though he respected his work, Doctor Maxis could not see Richtofen as the head of any sustainable project. For all his intuition, he still lacks humility and professionalism. Letters from the Doctor read like a child's frantic attempts to impress an indifferent father; For a man in his thirties, Doctor Richtofen lacked the attention to detail and formality in his communications one would expect with his experience. Nevertheless, Doctor Richtofen's proposal for projects utilizing Element 115 fascinated Maxis. Doctor Richtofen had acquired an article published by Maxis on the discovery of the new element and privately mailed him an idea relating to the element's potential properties.

The bizarre concepts jotted out on the paper read like those of a madman, yet upon looking further into their current knowledge of Element 115, Maxis determined that Richtofen's ideas may hold merit. Just a tiny sample of the element has shown to have an incredible amount of potential energy output to fuel Richtofen's unique concepts.

Doctor Maxis had done prior research with a process dubbed "teleportation", the transfer of an object or living being from one location to another through the conversion of their atoms into a steady stream, which is then sent via a massive wire to the intended location before reassembly.

Doctor Richtofen seemed supportive of the idea, and wished to collaborate further on the project. Soon thereafter, Maxis drew up blueprints for a potential prototype he lovingly christened the Matter Transference Device, or MTD as it was referred to thereafter and sent a copy to Doctor Richtofen, with the technical specifications left out, of course. Doctor Richtofen held much clout and credibility as a scientist in the field of physics and would make an excellent fit for the project if it is to be pursued. Such a technology could be a massive success for Group 935.

One of Doctor Richtofen's own ideas, however, placed him in Maxis' sights as a prime candidate to join Group 935. He was also an expert in Biology, a field Maxis had studied at Oxford to earn his Doctorate. Richtofen suggested that Element 115 may be an avenue to create new forms of life: The Genesis Code. In Maxis' early years, the very basic concept of life fascinated him to no end. Its formation is so incredible, so profound, that humanity has ascribed it to omnipotent gods. Ludvig often entertained the idea that the ability to create life, in spite of any higher being, is the final evolutionary step for mankind.

Chapter 2: Serve in Heaven

Laboratories, The Giant ("Der Riese"), near Breslau

Dr. Ludvig Maxis and Dr. Edward Richtofen

August 8th, 1939

"Begin Matter Transference Device test… one-"

An impatient voice interrupted, "One-six-two!"

Doctor Maxis sighed, continuing, "Yes, 162. Doctor Richtofen, note the weight of the test subject at the center of the pad, and the approximate amount of Element 115 being used up."

"Yes, Doctor. The test subject is a rat weighing approximately 0.2 grams, and the amount of 115 being used for Test 162 will be one microgram. Please, insert your earplugs... again."

Doctor Maxis and Doctor Richtofen each held pairs of red-orange earplugs, worn from a multitude of previous tests from the past month. Placing the plugs into his ears, Doctor Maxis pressed a button on the control panel, powering up the Matter Transference Device. A sliding door brandishing Group 935's insignia closed around the large central pad inside. The sedated rat at the center of the pad sat still as the device powered up. After a few moments, the coils surrounding the head of the device began to spark and chain electricity, and the interior of the device created a light growing ever more and more blinding as seconds passed. Even with protective goggles, the two scientists were forced to look away from the blinding whiteness shining through the MTD's view-port. The hanging light at the center of the room began to flicker as power was routed into the device.

After roughly a minute, the test came to an end and the device was opened once more, dispelling smoke throughout the laboratory from inside. Doctor Richtofen eagerly approached the pad, waving away the smoke from his vision. Doctor Maxis stayed behind, his mind being held hostage elsewhere. As the clouds dissipated, Richtofen crouched close to the pad. There lay the rat, which appeared dead, its eyes hollow and its body inert. Yet, like the many other living subjects before it, this subject was merely in a catatonic state, one that it would never leave. Its body had changed composition as well, becoming bloated and burned.

Doctor Richtofen kicked over a wooden chair near the pad before returning to the lab table. He approached the recording device, leaning in closely and uttering a final statement.

"Test 162 is a failure."

Richtofen dramatically pressed the button to end the recording, removed his goggles, and turned his gaze towards Doctor Maxis, whose eyes were still blank and the plugs still in his ears. Upon finally noticing Richtofen's disappointed demeanor, Doctor Maxis removed them.

Edward began to pace around the room, dabbing his forehead with a towel. "Must the temperature be so high during the tests?"

"Edward, it is more cost effective to work under these conditions during the Summer heat. I apologize, once again."

"Ah yes, I almost forgot we were doing all of this for the riches." Edward tossed the towel aside, leaning onto the lab table and thinking to himself for a moment. "I'm sorry, Doctor Maxis. I've lost my composure. Both of us have, really."

"Have I?" Maxis grew irritated at the suggestion.

"With all due respect, Doctor Maxis, I've noticed you are not as attentive to your duties as you once were when you invited me to join Group 935."

"My duties? Edward, you should know your place. You are a revered scientist, but I invited you into Group 935, and I hold authority here."

"Of course, of course, Doctor. I'm just concerned... with our work, that is."

"Again, I apologize for the lack of resources, Edward. If you were in my position, you would understand the stress I have been forced to endure to make ends meet."

"Is Hilda the reason you are so forlorn, Doctor?"

Doctor Maxis looked into Richtofen's cold, distant eyes, first vexed by Edward's question, before seeing its profound truth.

"Her loss... has added to my anxiety, yes."

"Und Samantha?"

"She's almost five years old now. Soon, I will have to tell her what really happened to her mother when she was born… She still thinks she is in Dresden. I don't know... if I am strong enough."

Doctor Maxis looked to Richtofen, whose attention had been turned towards his lunch: Canned bratwurst. Edward pried the can open with his teeth before reaching in and taking a bite from one of the sausages and mumbling through the chewing, "So, is that all that has you depressed, then?"

"For someone so concerned with my mental health, it seems you could not care less about my family."

"Forgive my ignorance, Doctor, I lack the experience as a family man, myself. What did you bring for lunch, by the way?"

Unfazed, Doctor Maxis continued to stare down Doctor Richtofen as he shoveled the bratwurst into his maw, barely exerting any effort to chew.

"I admire your perseverance, Edward. Even after all of our failures over the years you are not pulled down by the weight of the world."

"The 'world' has no bearing on my decision-making, Doctor Maxis. The only thing that drives me is success, und the road to success is paved with failure, as they say, ja? Besides, I know that in the end, I will meet my destiny. I will achieve great things, und save the world. With that knowledge, I can endure just about anything."

Though his work ethic seemed commendable, Edward Richtofen's tendency for outbursts caused Doctor Maxis to question his reliability as a scientist, or even as a friend. Despite Richtofen's lack of caring, airing woes must have felt almost therapeutic for Doctor Maxis.

"Family is not the only factor in my distress. I was foolish to once think Group 935 would lead the world of science unopposed. With Japan discovering Element 115, I fear we will be competing in technological progress against the army's new 'Division 9'. The Americans have found a deposit as well, and I have no earthly idea what they are capable of."

"Doctor, isn't science meant to be collaborative, rather than competitive?"

"While that is true, Edward, the issue of funding arises again and again in my administrative position, and for funding we must set ourselves apart from our rivals."

"A pity. This world we live in, it is so driven by conquest und fear. With any luck, things may change in the near future. Surely you've heard the stirrings of war approaching?"

"I have heard talk. But I am not concerned. Hitler only desires Poland. I don't see him sparking another global war, no matter what empty threats he makes."

"I must disagree with you for once, Doctor, there will be severe consequences for his actions. Everything that he says und that the Party does is driven by fear, und fear motivates people to do the unthinkable, the illogical."

"I suppose we will see in the coming months."

"Yes, I suppose we will."

Edward finished his meal before tossing the empty can into the trash bin, and he returned to the table alongside Maxis.

"Edward, shall we begin testing again?"

"Ja, but I have a few alterations to our methods I would like to suggest."

"What kind of alterations?"

"I believe we must begin testing on human-"

"That is out of the question, Richtofen, and you should know better."

"Of course it is, Doctor, you didn't let me finish. We should begin human testing, starting with cadavers, obviously. If the MTD is meant to revolutionize human transportation, then we should be accounting for a human-sized occupant, ja?"

"I suppose you are correct."

"Und since you insist on being so frugal, Doctor Maxis, we can still use approximately the same amount of the element und power in teleporting the subject. I've made all the necessary calculations… and I believe it is possible under the right conditions. It may even be more efficient than with our rodent subjects."

"Excellent, then fetch a cadaver from storage."

"Yes, Doctor."

As Edward left the room, Maxis stared directly into a coil atop the MTD, captivated by the electricity that passed between the other coils around the bell-shaped device. Time seemed to slow as he gazed into the coil; His mind drifted to the thought of his daughter in the care of an Au Pair while her father toiled away in the lab, test after test after test...

Irritated, Richtofen exited the room out into the hallways of the laboratories building, passing several others on his journey to the storage area. In one such room was his old friend, Doctor Schuster, along with another scientist. They were mixing a fluorescent blue vial of liquefied Element 115 with various other chemicals in the lab. Though Maxis had bestowed upon Edward the duty of a lowly errand-boy, the job gave Richtofen a chance to see Group 935's current projects; Something his overseers in The Order would deem valuable.

Inside the room the other scientist was looking over a data sheet plastered on the nearby wall, running his finger along the calculations as he spoke to Doctor Schuster. Schuster and Richtofen had a great personal relationship, though Schuster knew not of Richtofen's involvement with the Illuminati. Though both Schuster and Richtofen desired to make the world better through science, the methods of the Order would frighten the timid Doctor Schuster, Edward felt, and for that reason he kept them a secret. Edward had joined them because he saw an opportunity to make real, lasting change, though the motivations of their members had changed since he joined. Despite the time and dedication he had placed in The Order, he knew there were secrets being held from him.

Schuster was measuring out a brownish liquid within a beaker, and by the label it must have been amphetamine. Nearby were several other measured compounds as well as the previously observed Element 115. Doctor Richtofen would have to inquire to Schuster what exactly their purpose was. Edward knew Schuster was an expert in Chemistry, and had been dying to utilize Element 115 in his favorite branch of science, now finally receiving approval from the administration to begin testing. Edward could tell Schuster was visibly excited as he instructed his assistant in his methodology. Then, Richtofen remembered his purpose being there and he hurried to the freezer to avoid suspicions from Doctor Maxis who was surely waiting in the test area.

Richtofen retrieved a male cadaver from the shelves, before placing it onto a cart and wheeling it through the halls towards the testing area. Upon entering the room with Maxis, Doctor Richtofen noticed he had not moved from his position at the table, his gaze again drawn away towards the wall. The testing area had not been cleaned and the MTD had not been re-calibrated. Doctor Maxis had done nothing of worth while Richtofen was away.

Edward approached the MTD, placing the chemically displaced rodent into a bag with gloved hands before loading the device with a microgram of Element 115 and placing the dead human subject onto the MTD's pad. He returned to the table, donning his goggles and waiting for a moment before looking at Maxis, who was still staring at the wall with the recorder deactivated below him.

Frustrated, Doctor Richtofen reached across the table, activating the recording device and snapping Doctor Maxis' attention back to the test at hand.

"Begin Matter Transference Device test 1-6-3. The subject is a human cadaver of approximately 72.8 kilograms, und a micro-gram of Element 115 has been placed into the device. Doctor Maxis, please insert your earplugs."

Maxis turned to face Richtofen, awakened from his comatose state, then looked back to the cadaver, now aware of his situation.

"Yes... we will begin the test... now."

Both men inserted their ear plugs, and Doctor Maxis pulled the lever to activate the MTD once again. The door of the device sealed and it lit up, filling the room with a blinding light and sending waves of tingling electricity into the air. Strangely, the light lasted longer than before, and the power surge was so strong the lights in the room went completely out for a few moments before returning to normal. Through the deafening sound of the device, Maxis called out to Richtofen.

"You said there would not be an increase in power usage, Edward!"

"I believe my word choice was, 'approximately,' Doctor!"

Finally, the noise and the light faded as quickly as they had appeared, and the sliding door on the device re-opened, releasing smoke into the room.

Within the smoke was the silhouette of the cadaver just as Edward had left it. Defeated, Richtofen tossed his goggles aside and came closer to the body.

"Und so we've failed once again... "

However, the body did something very peculiar for a corpse: Its fingers began to twitch. Despite its preservation by the scientists, its skin was horribly burned and lacerated by the experiment, yet it seemed to be... alive. It pulled itself upon two legs, wobbling as it did so. For a moment its blank, rotten eyes were completely black, but soon they lit up with a bright, yellow glow. As it seemed to come to life, the monster vomited a pint of blood onto the pad before looking at each of the scientists.

Richtofen stood still, frightened by the sight of the ghastly creature. "Mein gott."

"Edward... it's... alive."

"Impossible."

The creature's vocal folds still functioned as it began to lightly groan. Then, it placed its right leg forward, and next its left. It began a small shamble towards Edward, barely able to stand on its stiff muscles.

As it came too close, Richtofen cried out, "Stop!"

And so the beast stopped. The mindless cadaver seemed almost obedient to Richtofen's command, as if it had heard such a command before.

Doctor Maxis walked forward to Richtofen's side. "Look at me."

The body cocked its head towards Maxis, letting its mouth gape and drool ooze out from the corners of its dried lips.

Maxis shook his head, muttering, "We've... brought a dead man back to life."

Richtofen was still in shock from the ordeal. While a discovery of incredible proportions, what they had created was unnatural.

Dr. Maxis attempted to give the walking husk another task.

"Walk... forward."

The zombie paced towards Doctor Maxis slowly to start, but began to pick up its pace and drool onto the floor more excessively. One arm dangled at its side, while the other was lifted and held out in the direction of the scientists.

"Now stop!"

The beast continued to walk forward, its bright, other-worldly eyes locked with those of Maxis, picking its pace up even further and groaning louder. It extended its other limp arm outwards towards Doctor Maxis, prepared to grab him with both of its grimy hands.

Doctor Richtofen pulled Maxis aside by the coat collar, away from the cadaver. "Maxis!"

"Why won't you stop?! Stop! Halt!"

The beast did not waver as it began to lumber towards Maxis directly, clamping its jaws together repeatedly as it lurched forward.

Doctor Richtofen acted swiftly, looking at the mounted emergency fire axe on the wall and taking it in his hands. The beast leapt through the air towards the distressed Doctor Maxis cowering in the corner of the room. Richtofen cut it down with an axe swing to the abdomen.

The creature fell to the ground, turning its attention towards Richtofen as it waved its arms at him and wailed in anger. Richtofen lifted the axe into the air again, bringing it down on its chest and severing the top half of its body. Blood and intestines spilled out onto the floor between the two halves, yet the upper half continued to hunger. It crawled with its weak arms towards Richtofen, howling and groaning like before.

Again, Richtofen brought the axe down, this time severing the head from its putrid neck. The body spurted blood at the jugular and the arms trembled before finally laying to rest, while the head continued to gnaw at the air until the light drained from its eyes.

For a moment, there was only silence as Maxis recollected himself and Richtofen questioned his very sanity. The two met eyes as Richtofen dropped the bloody axe and headed for the door.

"I... will inform the cleaning crew."

Fearful, Doctor Maxis approached the corpse carefully on his hands and knees, afraid one of the three sections may return to life at any passing moment. Doctor Maxis questioned how a creature of such horrific design could have come into being. For a moment in the previous encounter, Maxis felt hope. The body responded to his requests... as if it were alive again. He had become God; He had the power to bring the dead back to life. The possibilities flowed through Maxis' mind; Thoughts of those that could be saved from death: World leaders, soldiers, pets, loved ones... Hilda.

Chapter 3: Revelations

Cafeteria, Der Riese, near Breslau

Dr. Edward Richtofen

November 23rd, 1939

Leberwurst again; They called it a 'specialty', but Edward knew it was the only edible dish these chefs-for-hire could create. Budget cuts are nothing new in the field of science, but times are especially desperate for Group 935. But as long as Edward could continue his work, his passion, he could suffer this insufferable meal.

Edward plucked a handful of walnuts from a woven basket at the end of the cafeteria line before exiting entering the larger seating area. Richtofen could see Doctor Porter eating alone at one table, with Doctor Maxis nowhere in sight. Doctor Maxis had been skipping lunch for the past several weeks to seclude himself in his office. Edward believed Ludvig's melancholic demeanor since Hilda's death to be the reason behind his isolation. Following the contentious Test 163, Maxis deferred his own place in Matter Transference research to Doctor Schuster. Edward did not mind this change, however; Toiling away in the labs by Schuster's side reminded Richtofen of much simpler days at Heidelberg, sneaking into the campus laboratories after-hours and performing unorthodox dissections. Schuster never quite approved of their actions, yet he always followed Edward.

From across the cafeteria, Richtofen met eyes with an apprehensive Schuster, who was waving his hands in the air and trying to grab his attention. When the scientist across the table from Schuster turned to face Richtofen, he came to understand why.

Doctor Groph grinned as Richtofen approached; He had another victim to subject to his theories on underwater cities and ancient astronauts.

"Doctor Richtofen! Come, join us. I was just discussing my Vril research with Doctor Schuster."

Doctor Schuster looked to his brother in science, muttering, "A discussion usually has at least two participants. This is more of a lecture."

"You're free to chime in anytime, Doctor." Groph scooted aside to allow Richtofen to sit down.

Doctor Schuster mumbled as he pressed his fork into the leberwurst, "If I could get a word in-"

Groph spoke with an unfounded confidence, "Anyhow, so nice of you to join us, Richtofen. Schuster und I thought you would not be coming at all."

Edward took a seat across from Schuster, also ensuring there was nearly a foot in distance between himself and Groph on the bench. "I was adding a few minor touches to the Wunderwaffe prototype before I begin tests tomorrow morning."

"Still working on that infernal contraption? I thought you began work in September, and you have not even created a prototype? When do you suppose the second iteration will be complete then, 1954?"

Cross with Groph's rude line of questioning, Schuster interjected, "Doctor Richtofen does not have the luxury of time that you have Doctor Groph. Between our work on the MTD and Maxis' budget cuts there is little time nor resources for pet projects without personal investment. How about your research on Vril, Doctor Groph? What has that produced?"

"Vril has not been utilized by any human before. Only the ancient Vril-Ya knew of its true healing properties. Recreating its power could elevate the human race to a higher plane! Think of the power we would hold if we wielded the power of the Ancients! Vril is infinitely more complex than Doctor Richtofen's weapon."

Doctor Richtofen placed his fork back onto the plate, daring not to make eye contact with Groph. "Die Glocke is not simply for weapons like the Wunderwaffe. It is so much more than that… With its power I have produced a defense infrastructure, or, well, it will be one. Once it is perfected. After the incident with MTD Test 163 und the other... creatures created as a by-product of 115 testing, I have taken it upon myself to design a defense system should these beings ever outnumber us. The Shield will protect Der Riese in the event of an outbreak. I do not understand Maxis' fascination with controlling these monsters; What purpose do they serve? They are only a liability."

The table sat silent for but a few moments, Groph's expression turning from vexation to a smug grin. "I know exactly what he intends."

Schuster did not look from his tray, taking a bite of the cold fleisch. "I am sure this will be enlightening."

Ignoring the snide remarks, Groph continued, "Doctor Maxis has a deal in the works which could increase Group 935's budget exponentially, und he has been keeping it under wraps for longer than we may ever know. He is seeking to create a partership between Group 935 und the Nazi Party. The writing has been on the wall for quite some time."

Schuster displayed a disgusted grimace. Richtofen put his fork down to try and comprehend what he had just been told.

"Do you know how ridiculous you sound sometimes, Doctor Groph? We have some of the greatest scientists in the world at our disposal, und have you forgotten our maxim? 'To improve the human condition.' Not to assist some political idealists und their war-mongering Führer. In my time working with Doctor Maxis these past years, he has never seemed to be a man to stoop so low! There is no way Group 935 will ever associate with the Nazi Party. End of discussion."

"I sound ridiculous? Believe it or not, Doctor Richtofen, I have evidence. Do either of you have any idea where Doctor Maxis is right now?"

Doctor Groph looked to Schuster and Richtofen, who both had nothing to say. He continued, "Neither does Doctor Porter, one of his closest friends. But I know where he is. He is en route to Berlin to discuss this deal as we speak."

Doctor Schuster questioned Doctor Groph, "And how did you come to that conclusion?"

"I found Doctor Maxis in his office before he left Der Riese. I wanted to discuss today's findings as I do every day before lunch, but he seemed rather dismissive today, stressed even. He was reading a peculiar letter before he sent me away. After he left, I entered his office und-"

Schuster cut him off, "You raided his office and looked through his belongings... Is that what I am hearing?"

Richtofen added, "Und how did you enter his office? Maxis keeps all administrative offices und laboratories behind an electronic lock, does he not?"

"All of the pass-codes are the same: His daughter's birthday. 0-5-1-1-3-4. It was simple guess-work."

Schuster was shocked at Groph's actions, while Richtofen remained interested, "Very clever... Continue, Doctor Groph."

"On his desk I found the opened letter and accompanying envelope. It bears a symbol you two may recognize."

Doctor Groph removed the envelope and letter from his coat pocket, placing it on the table. The envelope was indeed addressed to Doctor Ludvig Maxis, and came directly from the Reichstag building. Doctor Schuster unfolded the letter, marked at the top with a symbol of an eagle carrying a swastika: The Parteiadler.

Shocked, Schuster muttered, "No… no it-, it can't be... Edward, this is an official seal!"

Edward examined the envelope, reading the German text through.

Dr. Ludvig Maxis,

We have observed Group 935's scientific achievements at The Giant since its inception, and there is no doubt that its successes are primarily due to your outstanding leadership and personal investment. Your actions have caught the attention of the Führer and members of the Party, and we humbly present an opportunity for your organization that may benefit your scientists as well as our Homeland.

We will fund all of Group 935's future endeavors to ensure it stands as the crown jewel of scientific advancement in Germany, under the condition that Group 935 defers authority over projects to the National Socialist German Workers' Party during this time of world unrest. When military research is no longer required, Group 935 may return to independent research under the supervision and funding of the Party. We hold and will soon acquire many more valuable pieces of land which Group 935 may utilize to create research stations across the world.

The Party has a particular vested interest in wonder weapons and other equipment that utilize Element 115 to be used by our troops. We have also examined the results of your testing with Element 115's ability to reanimate the dead. If these reanimated beings could be controlled, they could prove to be a great asset to our army in some capacity.

On the 23rd of November, a meeting will be held at the Kroll Opera House in Berlin to discuss Germany's goals and the protection of our people. We would be honored if you could join the meeting as a revered scientist and member of the German community. When you arrive, General Lehmkuhl will inform you of what Group 935 can do to assist Germany's efforts.

Signed,

Martin Bormann, Secretary to the Deputy Führer

The letter was indeed official. This collaboration could change everything the entire organization stood for, and worse yet, it may interfere with the motives of the Illuminati. Edward could not have predicted this sudden change in Group 935's leadership; With the eyes of the Partei scrutinizing Richtofen's every move, he may never be able to satisfy the Order and their desire for Group 935's research. A single world power in possession of this research may slow the Illuminati's efforts in creating a new, peaceful world order of their own design. Unless of course, this was all part of their plan...

Groph spoke, smug with righteousness, "You see, I was correct in my suspicions. You will come to find that I am right about a great many things. Perhaps you see now Maxis is not the great leader Group 935 deserves."

Schuster began to panic, "This organization was founded by a coalition of scientists from all over the world! What will become of our work once the news is made public?! The Nazis will twist our research for their own agenda. Can you believe Maxis would do such a thing, Edward?"

"I... cannot. Our research should not be controlled by any world government. It appears Doctor Maxis has become desperate, und desperate men make foolish decisions… This changes everything." Richtofen pondered what action to take next to ensure the preservation of the progress he had made, "Doctor Schuster, we must perfect our research on the Matter Transference Device as soon as possible, before Maxis diverts what little funding we have left into weapons for the Wehrmacht."

"Agreed, Doctor Richtofen, we should finish our lunch in the lab and begin testing again."

Doctor Richtofen and Doctor Schuster rose from their seats and headed towards the labs, leaving Doctor Groph to finish his meal alone.

As the two exited into the courtyard towards the laboratories, Richtofen turned to Schuster, asking, "Doctor Schuster, do you remember where your research on... oh, what were they called... Perky-Per-"

"Perk-a-Colas?"

"Yes, eh-heh, those. Do you remember where you kept that research?"

"I believe I stored it in laboratory A6. Why do you ask?"

"We should know where your hard work was last seen in the event Maxis decides to pawn it off to the Reichstag, should we not?"

"Surely Maxis would not do something so cutthroat?"

"These are uncertain times, my friend. I'm afraid Maxis has changed over the past year. We should be expecting the unexpected. About those Perk-a-what's-its, did that young scientist you were working with come up with the ridiculous name?"

"Oh, well, actually it was my idea... I believe the concoctions could be mass-produced for the general public to drink some day, once the 115's adverse side effects are stifled of course."

"Hm, how quaint. Anyhow, I must send a quick telegram out before we continue work on the MTD. Set up the test chamber und work station, would you kindly?"

"Yes, Doctor. Who is the telegram for?"

"Just a little... book club I'm in. I have to let them know I won't be attending the meeting this week. They must know."

Chapter 4: Forsaken

Laboratories, The Giant ("Der Riese"), near Breslau

Dr. Edward Richtofen

December 4th, 1939

"You know what to do, Doctor Schuster!"

"Initiate Test 149. Subject is a pig weighing approximately forty-four kilograms. We have one microgram of Element 115, which, as always, will be used up entirely during the test."

"Commence the test, Schuster."

"Yes, Doctor. Please insert your earplugs."

"Earplugs, yes. Go."

Lights around the spacious laboratory began to flicker as the MTD prototype pulled in power. The sliding door of the device shut, enclosing the miniature pig within the chamber. It began to panic, running the circumference of the MTD's interior in a vain attempt to escape. The bulbs around the head of the bell-shaped device lit up and the view inside the device became a pure, blinding white. After a few moments, a similar blinding light erupted from the uncovered receiving pad just three feet away. As both ends of the device came to rest, and smoke dispelled from the interior of the teleporter chamber, Doctor Richtofen noted the subject did indeed teleport, or at least a portion of it did.

What remained of the pig inside the MTD's chamber was a small lump of flesh lying on the blood-soaked floor, and an assortment of organs and flesh coating the walls and ceiling. The end of the pig which was successfully teleported was not in significantly better condition; The flesh and bones which passed through the device were charred and partially turned to ash.

Doctor Schuster hung his head and reached for the mop and a hose, anticipating Richtofen's reaction. Richtofen stood idle, running his hands through his hair and worn down by his failures. For days the two of them had focused their efforts entirely on the MTD with no fruit to bear, and today seemed to be no different. Every day spent toiling away in the lab without progress is another day closer to Doctor Maxis potentially announcing Group 935's alignment with the Nazi Party, and another day closer to their funds being diverted to other projects. The Order demanded that Richtofen perfect teleportation and deliver its power to them rather than the Nazi Party. The project has such incredible potential to change the world in the right hands.

Richtofen turned to Schuster, who was pulling away the chunks of flesh hanging from the bulb at the center of the MTD. For the sake of time, Edward remained composed, slipping on disposable gloves and bagging the singed mess on the receiving pad. Edward could not help but smile to himself as the clumps of ash slipped between his fingers and he was forced to sweep them into the bag.

"Doctor Schuster, doesn't this remind you of our little... incident in the school's laboratory?"

"Indeed, it does. If I remember correctly, we burned the Biology department's entire supply of animal bodies."

"Well, that's not entirely true. I don't believe the fire spread to the larger mammals. By then the entire school was there to find the two guilty parties responsible."

"I may also be remembering this incorrectly, but, I believe you were the one with the idea to sneak in and make the compound you were devising."

"It was meant to be an explosive gel. All in good fun, of course. Things got really out of hand." Richtofen chuckled at the nostalgic memory.

"Quite the understatement. We were nearly killed, Edward. But, I admit, the experience was fun... up until the clean up."

"Und paying for the damages..."

"Not to mention the servitude to the University for a year after."

Edward tossed the bag into a large trash bin along with his gloves before raising his goggles up to his forehead to look at Schuster.

"Do you remember what they said to us? After the flames were put out? They said they should expel us, and that we were no scientists. They said that if not for your father's influence in the administration, we would have been imprisoned."

"I remember, Edward."

"They said we were a disgrace. Failures."

"What is it you are getting at, Doctor?"

"The key point in this story is that none of them believed in our ability to succeed. We proved them wrong when we graduated, ja?"

Schuster smiled, "I suppose we did. We've already made great strides in science."

"But we have done nothing to cement our legacy, Doctor Schuster, until now. The MTD is our chance to rub it in their fat, pompous faces. The world will remember our names in one hundred years, Doctor Schuster, not theirs."

Doctor Schuster seemed to take to the idea for a moment with positivity, yet he did not seem to display the same confidence Richtofen had. He insisted on returning to the task at hand.

"Shall we look over the previous test?"

"Yes, of course. We will succeed, no matter the time or the cost."

The MTD's control panel printed a detailed analysis of the subject's weight before and after teleportation, the amount of power used during the test, the amount of Element 115 used up, as well as other minor statistics such as temperature and humidity. Doctor Schuster laid the document out on the table before Richtofen and leaned in closely.

"Like the last dozen or so tests, the subject has been split into two sections. There does not seem to be a correlation for what parts of the body will and will not go through; It is seemingly random. As with every test, the subject's chemical composition is changed, presumably by Element 115's radiation, especially the sections which do successfully teleport. Living subjects of all shapes and sizes seem to suffer the same fate. We have avoided tests with living things now dead and preserved due to the potential side effect of 115 reanimating dead cells. Perhaps we could try again with something dead, Doctor Richtofen? Our stock of living subjects is finite after all."

"Nein, that is Maxis' department, reanimating the dead. You were not there, Doctor Schuster, when one of those things attacked. Doctor Maxis should be more concerned with halting the creation of those beasts rather than controlling them. Perhaps I will propose the Wunderwaffe prototype to Maxis. Anyway, as it stands, Doctor Schuster, we must continue using living, breathing test subjects or inanimate objects."

The two pondered for a moment, looking over the printed statistics carefully. Doctor Schuster looked at his tray from the cafeteria, the meal not much colder than it was six hours ago. Peckish, he took a walnut, cracking it open and eating the insides.

"Have we met the MTD's maximum power capacity, Doctor Richtofen?"

"With maximum power, we have the potential to blackout Der Riese in its entirety. Doctor Maxis cannot know what we are doing here just yet. We are meant to be working on his projects."

"If not maximum, can we raise the device's power capacity?"

Richtofen stroked his chin for a moment, "It is possible. We should reduce the subject's mass as well to reduce strain on the capacitors. We will try it, Doctor, though we must be cautious not to drain too much power and alert everyone of our experiment. Fetch the smallest living subject we have in inventory."

"Yes, doctor."

Doctor Richtofen prepared the testing area, allowing the MTD to cool down and reset to the ready position. He set up a recording device in the center of the room with microphones for he and Schuster to speak into. As he awaited Schuster's arrival, he cracked open another walnut from Schuster's lunch tray, snacking on the insides.

After a minute passed, Doctor Schuster returned with a small cage and inside was a rat with dark brown fur. Schuster had placed a pill within the rat's small helping of food and fed the rat. Mere moments after feeding, the rat became docile and could hardly move on its own. Being sure the rat would not retaliate, Schuster opened the cage, carefully lifting the rodent and placing it within the test chamber before joining Richtofen at the table, looking at the recorder then to Richtofen.

"We are recording the tests? What if Maxis finds these recordings?"

"Not to worry, Doctor Schuster, I feel we are close to a breakthrough. We must record this historical moment, whenever it does come. It will be a fine addition to my log of achievements."

"I understand. Are we ready to begin?"

"Jawohl. Let us begin Test 150."

Doctor Richtofen pressed down on the button, initiating the recording, and he began his log entry.

"Log entry 38. Date: December 4, 1939. The Matter Transference Prototype is prepared for test run number 150. We have adjusted the power levels und decreased the mass of the test subject to prove teleportation is indeed possible. Doctor Schuster, would you kindly give an overview?"

"Yes, Doctor Richtofen. We have the new test subject, a rodent, weighing approximately 0.21 kilograms. The target platform is now approximately one meter away without any obstructions. We have one microgram of Element 115 which should be entirely used up during the test."

"Wunderbar. Doctor Schuster, commence test number 150."

"Yes, Doctor. Please insert your earplugs."

As the rat on the platform began to open its weak eyes, the two doctors had inserted their ear protection and commenced the test, shutting the sliding door to the test chamber and powering up the device. Doctor Schuster increased the power levels significantly, causing the lights hanging from the ceiling to flicker while the machine whirred and buzzed. Strangely, the blinding light did not last nearly as long; The device's door came open automatically, dispelling the smoke and revealing a third of the rat's body still lying on the floor. Even more out of the ordinary, it was completely intact, apart from the two-thirds which had disappeared. Dumbfounded, Doctor Richtofen approached the receiving pad, where the front two-thirds of the rat lay.

Doctor Richtofen raised his arms into the air in celebration before bringing them back down and returning to the table to end the recording.

"Doctor Schuster, the rat was perfectly intact! Well, almost. Without enough power, the subjects must have become exposed to the concentrated Element 115 for too long. If we can reduce the subject's mass even further, und use the same power levels, the subject should go through in its entirety, unharmed. Clear the test area, I will make the calculations."

"Yes, Doctor."

Doctor Richtofen initiated the cool-down for the MTD prototype before taking to paper with his pencil and calculating the approximate weight of a potential test subject to prove teleportation's potential. Accounting for the portion of the rat that teleported, the power levels of the previous test, and the possibility for human error in measurement, Doctor Richtofen formed a threshold which the potential test subject should weigh.

Doctor Schuster returned, looking over Richtofen's shoulder as he wrote. "Doctor, I don't believe we have a living subject that weighs so little. That rat was the smallest we have. Now I do believe we have a pygmy frog on ice-"

"Doctor Schuster, bring me the scale."

"Yes, Doctor."

Doctor Schuster hurried to the adjacent table, lifting the scale and placing it before Richtofen. "What is your idea, Edward?"

Richtofen reached for the lunch tray, picking out a couple of walnuts and examining them closely, finding one in particular he wished to represent his grand achievement. He placed the walnut on the scale, allowing it to weigh in for a moment. The walnut weighed ten grams, fitting into the weight threshold with plenty of room for error.

"An inanimate subject will be a viable alternative, Doctor Schuster, as a proof of concept. Shall we begin?"

"That… may just work. I'm ready, Doctor."

"I will erase the previous log entry und we will try it again. I am sure this test will succeed."

Doctor Richtofen cleared the previous recording, preparing for a new one as Doctor Schuster placed the walnut in the center of the pad. He searched the stash of equipment and recovered a metal tin, then placed it onto the receiving pad where the walnut will appear should the test succeed.

Doctor Richtofen adjusted the microphone and looked to his brother in science, "Are you ready to triumph, Doctor Schuster?"

"Yes, Doctor. I am confident in your calculations."

"Excellent."

Doctor Richtofen initiated the recording. "Log entry 38. Date: December 4, 1939. The Matter Transference Prototype is prepared for test run number 151. We have now reduced our test subject's mass to prove that this is possible. Doctor Schuster, please give an overview."

"Yes, Doctor Richtofen. We have the new test subject, a walnut, weighing in at ten grams. The target platform is now at three feet with no obstructions. We have one microgram of the element which, according to our calculations, will be entirely used up during tests."

"Excellent, Dr. Schuster. Commence test number 151."

"Yes, Doctor. Please, insert your earplugs."

Doctor Schuster initiated the test, shutting the sliding door around the walnut and powering up the machine. It buzzed and whirred, filling the interior chamber with smoke. Doctor Richtofen wrung his hands together, his excitement palpable. After a few moments, the buzzing and clanging came to a stop, and next came a light clink as the walnut, the exact same walnut, dropped into the metal tray placed on the receiving pad. The walnut was unaltered, appearing just as it had before the experiment.

Doctor Richtofen marveled at the sight, "Good God, we've done it!"

Doctor Schuster appeared just as stunned. "We have powered up the prototype, and it moved a walnut directly from the prototype device into the receiving device. It moved instantly. It... it-"

"Teleported... Get me Doctor Maxis immediately!"

Doctor Richtofen shut off the recording, his chest flurried from the achievement, as Doctor Schuster hurried out of the room. Richtofen approached the receiving pad, lifting the walnut from the metal tray and examining it closer. To Richtofen, the walnut symbolized determination, and his own drive for success. Nothing could have broken Richtofen's resolve to achieve.

Richtofen placed the walnut with his belongings, planning to treasure it forever, before picking another walnut and setting up the test area for Maxis upon his arrival. With his financial backing, the MTD could be perfected and would be of great use to the Order while keeping Group 935 independent.

The door to the laboratory came flying open, the middle-aged Doctor Schuster panting from a lack of breath.

"Doctor Maxis... he's not here!"

"What?! Where could he be at a time like this?"

"He's spending the day with his daughter."

Chapter 5: Abracadavre

Laboratories, Der Riese, near Breslau

Dr. Ludvig Maxis

December 5th, 1939

"Get the subject into position, and begin the test!"

The two lab assistants assigned to aid Doctor Maxis hurriedly placed the corpse onto the elevated platform bed of the test area. After an injection of pure Element 115 into the unused veins of the cadaver, the lab assistants exited the test area. What was once a lifeless collection of bones and organs began to rise up and shift its gaze towards the pane of glass separating the scientists from the creature.

"Stand up."

The beast did not flinch at Maxis' simple command.

"STAND UP!"

The decaying corpse of the elderly man rose up from the table and let forth a groan as it came to its legs in the operating room.

"Good. Look at me."

For a moment it did not take notice of Doctor Maxis nor his command. In retort, Doctor Maxis snapped his fingers twice, calling out again, "Over here!"

It lifted its dangling head up to face the Doctor. The corpse's blank, soulless gaze turned to a more focused sneer.

"Good. Now walk forward."

It began to dribble at the mouth and shuffle towards him across the concrete floor, dragging its feet as it did so.

"Excellent. Further. Keep coming."

The awoken body lost its balance and fell to the ground, shattering its jaw and staining the floor with its blood. It groaned louder as it became more enraged, attempting to return to its feet.

"It's all right. Stay there."

Now on its legs again, it began a faster pace towards the pane of glass protecting Doctor Maxis from the interior of the operating room.

"Calm down! I order you..."

The zombie now began to swing violently as it approached the glass. Its mouth was now fully agape ready to take on the Doctor.

"Kill it!"

Before it could reach the glass, a lab assistant unloaded two handgun rounds into the creature's head before settling his fearful, shaken hands back to his side. The bloated corpse yelped before sliding to the ground and draining all life.

"Bring me another..."

Two assistants, one of which being the young man who shot the walking corpse moments before, left the spacious laboratory in search of another subject. Through their many tests over the past few weeks, Group 935's supply of cadavers had been cut short and they had been forced to resort to locally donated corpses to perform the tests Doctor Maxis demanded.

Deeply troubled by these tests, Doctor Porter inquired, "Doctor, what are you hoping these creatures will do once they are under your command? If I am being honest, these tests on the dead are depraved… Sinful, even."

"I understand your concerns as a man of God, Doctor Porter. However, think of what can be accomplished if we can return these beings back to the way they were before death."

"With all due respect, Doctor, is it worth it?"

Maxis stopped his reading of previous test overviews and statistics, thinking for a moment of the question.

"What are you really asking, Doctor Porter?"

"Life is finite for a reason, Doctor. These things we are creating today... they are not the people they once were. They are unnatural. They are past their time."

Doctor Maxis continued his train of thought, ruminating on the loss in his own life. He almost agreed with Doctor Porter; Life is precious and beautiful, but everything that is beautiful must end.

"Perhaps you are correct, Doctor Porter. But we must perform these tests; The future of Group 935 depends on it."

"How so?"

"I will share this with you Doctor Porter, before anyone else, because I can trust you. I have been given an opportunity to align Group 935 with the Nazi Party in exchange for funding. When Doctor Richtofen and I created the first 'zombie' using Element 115... I will admit I was intrigued by the possibility of eternal life, spiting nature. But, as I performed more tests, I caught the attention of the Party. They believe we can utilize the dead as an army for Germany's war effort."

Doctor Porter seemed horrified by the thought, preparing to say something before being interrupted as the metal door opened on its hinges and the two lab assistants had returned carrying a new test subject. This one was younger than any of the previous, seemingly a young boy, killed in some brutal accident that left him with but one arm still attached to his battered and scarred body.

Doctor Maxis called the assistants sternly, "Take it to the operating room and begin the injection!"

In unison, the two young men replied, "Yes, Doctor." They entered the sealed operating room, placing the corpse onto the operating table on its back.

Maxis continued his previous conversation with Porter, "Think of the potential, Doctor Porter: An army that does not grow tired!"

One of the men shone a hanging light into the body's face as the other injected it with liquefied Element 115.

"An army that does not need weaponry!"

The body's limbs began to tense up as the lab assistants threw out their gloves and exited the test room before closing it once more.

"An army that feels no fear!"

The boy's eyes opened for likely the first time in weeks. It did not breathe and its heart beat variably, without a pattern. At first the lights in its eyes frightened it, but the sight of the many scientists in the lab drew its attention.

"Stand up. Please."

The body raised itself up with its one arm, but lost its balance, falling shoulder first onto the floor: A fall to the concrete test chamber which would have surely injured the average human did nothing to impair the thing. It was no human.

It began pulling itself towards the thick bullet-proof window with its single, working arm.

"Halt!"

As Doctor Maxis said it, the beast was stunned. It did not move for a few moments, drooling an oozy mix of saliva and blood from its mouth onto the concrete floor, releasing a putrid odor that could be sensed through the locked metal door. Doctor Porter began to vomit into the nearby bin, while the two assistants averted their eyes in disgust. Doctor Maxis had an expression of success; His bushy eyebrow raised, intrigued by the sudden cooperation of the monster.

"Good! Yes! Now... walk- er... crawl towards me, slowly."

He snapped his fingers and the crawler continued to try and grip the flat ground, dragging its mutilated, naked body across the concrete towards the glass. It reached the wall and raised itself up on a shaky leg, then onto the other, finally standing again for the first time. Now leaning on the glass, it peered inside the laboratory at those that had awoken it from eternal rest, and it began to breathe rapidly, leaving condensation on the window. Ravenous and angered, it started to slam on the glass with its arm.

"I ORDER you to-"

It began to scream progressively louder as the glass cracked along the entire pane. Finally the beast's enormous, inhuman strength caused the glass to shatter onto the floor and it vaulted into the room with Doctor Maxis.

"Kill it! Kill the damn thing, now!"

Panicked and untrained, the two lab assistants raised their civilian-grade handguns, firing wildly in the direction of the beast. Twelve shots were fired in total, with seven entering the walking husk and disfiguring it further. The entire floor was blood-soaked and concerned nearby members of Group 935 were racing towards the lab to investigate the loud screams and gunshots.

"It's alright... It's alright, everyone. Someone get the cleaning crew, now! Men, we are relocating to a new lab for further tests while this pane of glass is being repaired."

The two assistants looked at each other, uncertain, before doing as Maxis instructed, "Yes, Doctor."

The body was crumpled and unrecognizable from the holes born into its head and chest. The young boy's face was rendered essentially non-existent. Doctor Porter felt sick, searching for any excuse to delay any further tests.

"Doctor... perhaps we should return to testing tomorrow."

Doctor Maxis shooed the curious scientists back into the hallway outside, assuring no one else was listening in to what he had to say.

"Porter, I'm afraid it is of utmost importance to the organization that we continue our research with the undead."

"Yes, but, Doctor..."

"We are in need of funding if we are to improve the human condition together. It is unfortunate our work is not free, but it is the reality of things."

"What I mean, Doctor, is there may be other business that needs attending to. Doctor Richtofen and Doctor Schuster have been trying to contact you since yesterday. They say it is a remarkable breakthrough."

"They can wait."

"They've been working on this project for you, Ludvig. They would not share the details with me. I don't think they will be working on the projects you've demanded until you concede."

Maxis frowned, looking at the gaping window pane and the bloody mess laid out on the floor reeking of rot. The blood had soaked his boots and splattered on his lab coat without him even noticing. Doctor Porter approached Maxis' side and gripped his shoulder.

"You need a break from all this death, Ludvig. Go see what Richtofen is up to. I will have the lab set up when you are ready to return."

From the doorway to the lab came three men wearing protective masks and air-tight suits followed by the two lab assistants. The suited men gathered around the lump of flesh and began cleaning the remains off of the floor. Doctor Maxis called the assistants, "Follow Doctor Porter's words closely. He will be instructing you on preparing for the next set of tests."

In unison, "Yes, Doctor."

Maxis leaned in to Doctor Porter, saying, "Thank you."

"It's a matter of efficiency, Doctor. Oh, I forgot to ask, how was your outing yesterday?"

"It was wonderful spending time with Samantha. I had not seen her since her birthday just last month. She's so full of words now, always asking for things the other children have. I thought a teddy bear would suffice but now she wants a dog... Hm, it's a wonder how she's grown so curious, like her mother, I suppose. She's begun asking about her, and where she is. I will have to tell her the truth soon."

"I do not envy your situation, Doctor."

"Yes, well... she is worth all of it."

Chapter 6: Doing or Suffering

Laboratories, The Giant ("Der Riese"), near Breslau

Dr. Ludvig Maxis and Dr. Edward Richtofen

December 5th, 1939

Doctor Maxis wondered if the excursion to find Richtofen was even worth the trouble, though he seemed to enjoy the walk away from the cramped laboratory. For a brief time, the edging sense of dread for Group 935's future had ceased, leaving Doctor Maxis almost cathartic as he wandered through the crowded halls of Der Riese's many buildings. Scientists once under Maxis' own tutelage shuffled about, nodding their heads in respect to the Doctor in hopes of a returned acknowledgment. Maxis smiled, nodding his head back to his peers; With such respectable young scientists under his wing, Maxis wondered just what there was to worry about.

The dread permeated his mind once more as he arrived at his destination, where Doctor Richtofen and Doctor Schuster have been holed up the past twenty-four hours in the hopes that he would approve of whatever it is that they had done. While he respected Doctor Richtofen as a man, he could not find it in himself to see Edward as a scientist of equal measure. Much like many men of science before his time, Doctor Richtofen was driven by his ego. Maxis begrudged any interactions with Richtofen, preferring to keep them to a minimum ever since the initial test which brought a dead subject back to life. It was a wonder how Schuster could keep sane working under Richtofen, though he always struck Doctor Maxis as the submissive type.

The metal door to the laboratory was locked electronically from the inside. Despite his mistrust of Doctor Richtofen as of late, Doctor Maxis had given him authority to create lock pass-codes and access to the facility's administrative systems, due to his tenure in Group 935.

Doctor Maxis knocked on the door with his left hand with enough force to be heard through the thick metal that the door was composed of. A moment passed, as Doctor Maxis stared at the Group 935 insignia painted out on the door. It was as if the symbol mocked him for being locked out of his own lab, by his own staff.

Eventually, a rectangular view-port on the door slid open, revealing the weary eyes of Doctor Richtofen who yelled out through the port, "Go away, dummkopf, for the last time, we- Oh, Doctor Maxis!"

"Enough games, Richtofen. Open the door."

"Of cooooouuurse, Doctor Maxis. Finally, you've arrived to witness this modern marvel of science!"

The port closed once again as the sound of the electronic keypad beeping could be heard. The door opened on its hinges with haste as Doctor Maxis entered the laboratory, stone-faced.

"If you ever lock me out of the lab without telling me the pass code again, Doctor Richtofen, you will lose your right to it."

"Apologies, Doctor. It will never happen again! But this project is for your eyes to see first! Doctor Schuster und I have been working tirelessly-"

"The point. Get to it, Edward. By the state of the lab, I am assuming this has something to do with your Matter Transference prototype."

"An astute observation, Doctor. Indeed, we have achieved something extraordinary with the new design."

"And I would assume this was all in place of the research I commissioned?"

"You would be correct, Doctor, but this simply could not wait! If you approve our funding, this could change the world for the better. It will be the envy of all of the world's governments; We will show you. Doctor Schuster, prepare the test area!"

"Yes, Doctor Richtofen. Please, Doctor Maxis, insert these earplugs. There is a pair of protective goggles on the table there."

Doctor Schuster handed Doctor Maxis a pair of bright orange ear plugs, and pointed to the table at the center of the room. Against the far wall was the tall and spacious MTD prototype, the gears turning as it sucked in power from the main generator. To its right connected through a thick cord was the receiving pad, and at its center a metal tin sat alone, visibly out of place on the pulsating, circular void as it appeared within the pad. The device was larger than the original prototype Maxis had created that was now currently in storage. The room was in disarray, with papers scrawled out on the floors and dust on every utensil the defiant duo did not employ. The center table held more unsorted papers, a recording device, stacks of tapes, stained and food-encrusted trays, and an assortment of walnuts lined up in order of size.

As Maxis scolded Doctor Richtofen, he smiled and cleared the table before him, setting the trays into one large stack at the corner of the table.

"We were planning on returning those to the cafeteria. Today, actually."

Richtofen looked at the line of walnuts, running his index finger along the line from smallest to largest, stopping and grabbing a modestly large walnut and raising it in the air.

"Here I have the test subject: A walnut."

Doctor Maxis rolled his eyes as Richtofen rolled the walnut in the palm of his hand for a moment before waving the other hand horizontally as if he were unsure of his estimations.

"Weighing in at, er... roughly ten grams. Give or take a little."

He handed the walnut to Doctor Schuster, who placed it at the center of the MTD. The rather large nut was dwarfed by the device which reached up to the ceiling with a chamber able to hold nearly a dozen men.

Doctor Richtofen and Doctor Schuster donned their protective eye and ear wear as Doctor Maxis followed. After a moment, Doctor Richtofen gave the ready signal to Doctor Schuster, making a fist, placing his arm vertically, and pulling downwards.

Like the multitude of tests before, Doctor Schuster activated the MTD via the control panel at the face of the device. The lights dimmed as power fluctuated and funneled into the MTD. The chamber doors slid closed with a loud thud and the interior lit up like a firework. The coils at the head of the device spewed a discharge of electricity into the air which tickled Doctor Maxis' nerves from across the room. After the air became calm again, an orb of light shone through the cord connecting the MTD to the receiving pad, zooming through until it reached the other end. The receiving pad shone a blinding light and emitted a turbulent sound before diluting then dissipating. A light clang could be heard as the walnut landed into the tin at the center of the receiving pad, and then all was silent for a moment.

Through the fog released from the MTD's chamber, a silhouetted Doctor Schuster approached Doctor Richtofen, offering a hug to his close friend and colleague. The two embraced and rejoiced for their triumph, audibly laughing and exclaiming.

"We've done it, Doctor Schuster!"

"I knew we could. I knew you were right, all along!"

Meanwhile, Doctor Maxis' attitude had not changed despite recent events. He tossed his goggles onto the table without care, exposing the rings around his cold eyes. He removed his earplugs as well, tossing them into the trash.

Puzzled, Doctor Richtofen turned to his superior, "Doctor Maxis, is there something wrong? What did you think of the device? We intend to make further adjustments to increase the size of test subjects that can be sent through. Surely you see the benefits to a device that can give humanity the ability to teleport!"

"But this is not the crucial experiment that you were supposed to be working on!"

"With all due respect, Doctor Maxis, this is a breakthrough of unimaginable proportions."

Doctor Schuster looked to his feet then to Richtofen, knowing truly how much the experiment meant to him.

Doctor Maxis scoffed, shaking his head. "What? That you moved a walnut a few feet? Yes, Edward, we will improve the human condition by revolutionizing the walnut industry. I can see it now: 'Edward's Walnut Delivery!'"

"Don't be obtuse."

Further vexed, Doctor Maxis pointed his index finger to Richtofen, edging closer to him and shouting in his face.

"How dare you call me that! We are at war, Edward! I will admit that there is promise here, but until this war is won-"
"Correct me if I'm wrong, Doctor Maxis, but Group 935 is a research organization. What was the motto? 'To improve the human condition.' What business of ours is this war?"

"Fine, Doctor Richtofen, I will let you in on a little administrative secret. We are finalizing a deal with the Nazi Party. We need funding, we need equipment, they need new weapons. Chances are this war will end soon with a treaty or two and we will be in a much better position to help the world."

"Are you certain this won't cause massive defections? We have scientists from all over the world working with us."

"That is why it is with the utmost confidence that I share this with you. No one will know of this. This is simply the breaking of an egg to make an omelette."

Searching his feelings, Edward postulated reasons for Maxis to allow their teleportation experiments to continue. His plans to impress the Order relied entirely on Maxis' decision.

"Think of the tactical advantage we would have!"

"Think of the cost, think of the time! We can provide the Nazis tactical expertise in various areas without putting all our eggs in your walnut basket. Good day, Edward, and get back to your real work." Leaving Richtofen and Schuster to their thoughts, Maxis stormed into the outside hallway, slamming the door tight as he left the vicinity.

Doctor Schuster broke the silence with a piercing statement.

"Bloody jerk."

Shaken but unfettered, Doctor Richtofen formulated his own ideas for the future. "I think Doctor Maxis has lost his perspective. No matter... we will do this on our own and publish the findings before he has a chance to-"

"You're not suggesting that Dr. Maxis would steal this technology and perfect it without us, are you?"

"I would by no means discourage that thought. Great scientists must stick together and achieve great science."

Without Maxis' financial support, they would be on their own in perfecting teleportation technology. Doctor Schuster would prove useful as a loyal underling and a source of funding with his family's wealth, but such support would not hold forever. For now, they should worry about perfecting the teleportation of a living, breathing human being. Then, Richtofen could plot his intentions with the Illuminati and take control of Group 935 away from Maxis, the old fool.

Chapter 7: Perdition

Laboratories, Der Riese, near Breslau

Dr. Edward Richtofen

January 4th, 1940

Looking and feeling foolish in his protective body gear and eye goggles, Doctor Richtofen stood in the center of the MTD signaling Doctor Schuster that he was ready and activating the handheld recording device in his hand.

"Entry 42. Date: January 4th, 1940. Doctor Schuster und I, despite mounting pressure from Doctor Maxis, have continued working on the Matter Transference Prototype. We have made great strides in the last thirty days and are ready for our first human subject. If our calculations are correct, we will send a test subject to the receptacle station sitting thirty yards away and behind a cinder-block wall."

"Are you certain you want to do this, Doctor Richtofen?"

"Nein, Doctor Schuster, this must be done. Quickly, put in your earplugs and power up the machine."

Edward's hands shook vigorously with sweat gathering at his palms. He had many nights' worth of calculations and previous testing to show the test should indeed be a success, but regardless, The Order had been pressuring Richtofen to perfect the MTD by the end of this week.

Doctor Schuster placed his earplugs in, putting his hand upon the control panel, and giving Doctor Richtofen the all-clear signal. Richtofen hesitated, before reluctantly offering his own. Edward shut his eyes tightly as Doctor Schuster activated the MTD, entrapping him within the test chamber. Edward opened one eye involuntarily, noting how cramped the walls of the device felt from the inside. For Richtofen, the whirring and buzzing of the machine was so much louder than expected. He could not even hear himself think.

All that he could see was a bright, white light more intense than the sun. Then, sudden darkness and utter silence: Unexpected. What was once the sweltering heat of the MTD was now a bitter cold upon Richtofen's exposed skin. As Doctor Richtofen reached for his belt to be sure the recording device he had activated minutes before was intact, his arm movement felt... off, with much less force being required than normal, leading to his arm making an exaggerated motion to his side, slapping the recording device and hurting his finger. Richtofen failed to notice due to the low temperature numbing his sense of pain.

"Is there a power outage? Why is it so dark? I feel almost... weightless. How very unexpected. Doctor Schuster? Hello?"

No answer. Perhaps the teleportation process had taken longer in real time than it felt in Edward's head. The power must have gone out following the test. Doctor Schuster had surely left to try to find a new power supply and calm the storm heading their way. Edward would likely lose his position in the organization after this. No matter. He was now far beyond the capabilities of Maxis or any two-bit replacements that would come after him. The Illuminati would be pleased with the successful test, and perhaps this could mean a higher position of power for Edward. Only when he is within the highest circle would Edward be able to enact the changes the world so desperately needed.

Edward began to feel around for anything solid to grip. What was around him did not feel like the metal inside the MTD, but more like rock. Bumpy and coarse, completely uneven: Odd.

Edward reached in his pocket for a lighter to hopefully illuminate the area. Click.

"Ah, I can see now."

The lighter revealed a small space around the Doctor as a flame burst to life. Before him was a rocky wall, like that of a cave within a mountain. The ground was similarly rocky and coarse. Turning around, there was a large, seemingly metallic structure taking up a larger portion of the room. It was marked with strange, yet somewhat familiar symbols. Edward could hear machinations from within the structure, and a low hum. Edward searched his memories, hoping to grasp the meaning of the symbols, but they were unrecognizable. The pyramid did, however, appear similar to a device from one of Doctor Groph's books. The device was how many of the fictional Vril-Ya were able to leave Earth's atmosphere to explore the cosmos in their advanced space-craft.

Upon glancing upward, Edward noticed that this structure was the base of some kind of pyramid. It had a black finish so dark it appeared like a void, with Richtofen only realizing it was a three-dimensional object by placing the light closer to it. The corners appeared to blend in with the mass of blackness, creating something totally otherworldly to Richtofen. The front face of the pyramid's base held a large dial-like panel, with a protruding circle in the center and strange markings and grooves surrounding the circle. Above the pyramid was a set of metallic protrusions, not too dissimilar to the capacitors atop the matter transference prototype.

"Oh my god... I am standing in a circular cave, surrounded by some kind of machine, like... it's like nothing I've ever seen before. It looks almost alien in nature. There's a pyramid structure at the center of the room. I'm going to try and carefully touch it."

Edward reached for one of the edges of the pyramid, hoping to get a feel for the material. As his index finger and thumb attempted to grip the structure, it sent out a sharp electric shock which numbed Edward's hand and jolted through his spine, startling him.

"Ach! Static electricity... It's sharp to the touch. Very cold. Not a speck of dust."

Edward turned his hand into a fist and began to lightly bang on the strange structure.

"Hmm, might be hollow. The chamber's quite large. I see what looks like capacitors at the ceiling of the chamber. There are no obvious connections to anything electrical. What is this place?"

Breaking the silence of the secluded cave came a voice, whispering as if from nowhere.

"Edward..."

"Doctor Schuster, is that you? Doctor Schuster!"

He re-centered his focus away from the voice and back towards the peculiar pyramid device. Edward looked to the front panel, carefully placing his gloved hand onto the bumpy surface and studying the symbols present.

"Look at this. It appears to be covered in some kind of hieroglyphic language. I've not seen anything like it before..."

The voice came back, clearer than before and yet still a whisper, as though it were coming from someone right next to Edward.

"Please, you must help me."

Frightened by the closeness and the tingling in his ear, Richtofen turned his head to face the speaker, but there was no one in the chamber with him.

"Why are you whispering to me? There's no need for that."

In his frightened state, Richtofen had leaned back onto the pyramid's front-facing panel, causing the grooves to spark and the dial to turn.

"Was ist los? Do you hear that? It sounds like… "

The sound of static filled Edward's ears and a similar light to the MTD appeared then faded soon after from the spinning center panel. What was once an eerie, void silence became running water and buzzing insects. The air felt hot and muggy. Edward was not appropriately dressed for this occasion.

The ground below was grassy and moist, and the skies were clear and bright as the sun beat down on Edward as well as the abundance of vegetation and flora around him. On the horizon, Doctor Richtofen spotted a tall, man-made stone structure. Behind him was a similar, yet smaller structure.

"My god, what happened? I seem to be in some kind of jungle. I can't be certain of where I am."

As Doctor Richtofen regained his bearings, he dusted off his lab coat and looked towards the tall man-made structure in the distance, before looking closer to the ground and spotting a congregation of men approaching from the underbrush to his immediate left. They held spears and knives, and a man at the head of the group pointed towards Edward, bellowing a cry of anger as his followers did the same, charging towards him.

"OH NO!"

Edward went into a full sprint towards the man-made tower up a hill, dropping his recorder to the ground to be trampled by his attackers. His arrival through teleportation must have drawn their attention, and the place he arrived at may have been sacred ground to them.

Edward dashed past architecture made from stone, and with each structure came more natives to give him chase. There were stone temples and staircases to homes made by the people, as well as artwork and statues Edward would have loved to admire had it not been for the current situation. Edward panted from the running as he brushed aside leaves and ferns, nearly tripping on a vine in his path. Edward ducked into a thick collection of plant life, hoping he could find some safety behind a fallen tree. He reached for his pockets searching for anything to defend himself, finding only his lighter and gripping it tightly hoping to formulate a plan. Mere moments later a spear came flying from the sky above, piercing the dirt at Richtofen's feet. Edward looked above the log to see they had spotted him, and he returned to sprinting towards the tower.

After emerging from the underbrush, Edward ascended the stone stair-case leading up the tower. Richtofen tripped as a flying rock slammed into his lower leg, and his face hit one of the stone steps, causing his nose to bleed. Persistent, Richtofen continued climbing before halting as two towering figures atop the temple brandished daggers and came down towards him. Looking back at the wave of natives chasing him and then to the two defenders of the temple, adorned with tattoos and piercings, Richtofen panicked, holding the lighter towards them and flipping it open. The two men halted their approach, backing away. Taking the opportunity, Richtofen pointed the lighter towards those giving him chase at the base of the steps and stood his ground. The leader of the charge, his face covered with symbols similar to those seen on the pyramid, called out to his followers to halt, stopping just before his spear pierced Richtofen's abdomen. All stood silent for a moment, before Richtofen clicked the lighter, igniting a small flame. The natives all gasped, many shouting at Richtofen, before silencing as he waved the flame around.

"Yes… Well, uh, my name is Doctor Edward Richtofen. I'm not quite sure if you understand me, but I hold great power in the form of knowledge! I can make you whatever you may want. Just back away with your weapons… "

No one in the crowd moved or responded. Edward took that as a sign they were not looking to kill him just yet. He ascended the staircase further, pointing the lighter towards the two guards as he did so. The two inevitably dropped their spears and fell to their knees as Richtofen stood atop the platform overlooking the village. Everyone below had spread out and looked to each other expectantly, fearing what he might do next.

"I'm trapped here."

A voice called out to Richtofen, but it spoke in English, not like the people who lived here. It was not coming from someone in the crowd, but from Richtofen's own head.

"Ahem, okay, here is what I will do-"

"Only together can we prevent the destruction of your world."

"Gott... okay, I will provide for you in exchange-"

"When I am free, you will be rewarded beyond your imagination."

"Shush! Please!"

"You're not listening to me Edward, don't you want to help me?"

"SHUT UP!"

Frightened by the outburst, all of the natives dropped their weapons and lowered to their knees, even the leader at the forefront of the mob.

"Well, that's one way of doing it. Now, everyone, gather around."

Edward lifted the lighter into the air for all to see.

"Every journey begins with a single step. This is step one."

Chapter 8: Paradise Lost

Unknown Mountain Range

Dr. Edward Richtofen

January 5th, 1940

"Und how exactly did I end up here? This is one of my many, many questions regarding what transpired yesterday. Hopefully my experience with these villagers will illuminate the answers to said questions. My power over them is so strong they have provided shelter for me over the night; They have even thrown some kind of banquet in my honor. Their culture is fascinating. I'm no anthropologist, but their lack of experience with any outsiders is quite the topic of interest. I'm sure Doctor Schuster would love to meet them. I do hope he is alright. There is no telling what sort of commotion this ordeal has caused at Der Riese. I can only hope he will be able to- "

"It's how we'll all end up."

"NO! Quiet!"

Edward's hands clenched around the dirtied recording device he had recovered from the site of his arrival, shutting it off completely. The otherworldly voices had continued to call out to Richtofen throughout the feast provided to him the night before and into his dreams. That night, Edward dreamed of a city engulfed in flames, near a river. There was a woman crying out for help before disappearing in a flash. The voices had many accents, and in some instances, they spoke in different languages, but they always seemed to be asking for help. They would interrupt Edward in the worst of times, like a mosquito buzzing near his ears. There was, however, no shortage of actual mosquitoes in this tucked-away jungle.

Edward swatted at a little pest preparing to land on his face, then pushed open the hand-crafted wooden door to his hut to reveal what seemed like the whole village anticipating his awakening. They all began to kneel upon noticing him, led by their leader from the night before. Wary of the attention, Edward nervously approached the head of the village, offering him his hand.

The elder did not seem to understand the gesture, looking visibly confused and frightened.

Edward spoke up, "Take me to the temple." He made a hand motion indicating the shape of the temple he had seen when he arrived, then pointed in the direction he had seen it the day before.

The leader seemed to understand this command, standing on his two feet and motioning the others in the village to step aside. It seemed the entire village was subservient to him and only him. Despite the fear Edward had instilled, it was he whom they respected and followed. So long as Edward stayed in his good graces, his people would follow suit.

The elder stopped for a moment as he led Edward on, approaching a woman with a baby in her arms. He rubbed his right hand on the child's forehead, before placing his hands onto the woman's shoulders and muttering something as he placed his head against hers. By Richtofen's hypothesis, this infant was the elder's son.

The center of the village was at the top of a steep hill. Interestingly, the path upwards was marked with bamboo shoots entrenched into the ground with space between them. They seemed to hold no purpose, until Richtofen looked back from the top of the hill to see the older, weaker members of the village using them for support when traversing the hill. Despite their violent attack at Edward's arrival, the natives were quite closely bonded and supportive of one another, especially the eldest members of the village. They seem to be at peace in this paradise. If that is the case, then why do they carry weapons?

As he passed through the village square, Richtofen took note of much of the peoples' primitive, yet impressive technology. They had created an irrigation system and structurally sound platforms for their huts to stand high on above the nearby river. Most impressive of all seemed to be a boat on the river with a bamboo crank to churn the water and propel the vessel.

Yet, all of these achievements paled in comparison to the wondrous stone structures built on the site just outside the village. They scaled high into the sky, blotting out the sun from the right angle. With the sheer amount of man-power required to build this architecture using no machinery, Edward hypothesized these people may have been here for centuries. Given his limited knowledge of the region, Edward could only deduce it was somewhere in East Asia, due to the fauna and some of the markings within the walls of several huts.

Though he initially believed the people to have been uncontacted, Edward's belief was shaken as he entered one of the temples. Near the entrance were two ceremonial gongs, gold in color, and most definitely made of a type of metal, be it actual gold, brass, or something undiscovered in the West. Throughout the village he had passed, there had been no signs of metal work or blacksmithing; All of their architecture was crafted from stone, and yet before Richtofen's eyes were massive, circular gongs suspended in the air, marked with precise script. Edward was shocked to find that he recognized the symbols intimately. The script was in the Illuminati's alphabet, used to encode secret messages between members. How could the Order have discovered this place without Richtofen's knowledge? What other secrets must they be hiding?

Past the gongs was a vast inner space occupying the structure, its walls lined with engravings etched into stone, as well as animal skulls native to this jungle.

The head of the village called out of the entryway towards a grouping of his people. On his orders, they scrambled with a club made of bundled bamboo, lighting it aflame using flint, before a single member of the congregation approached the leader, bowing his head as he offered the torch.

Returning the bow, the leader looked into Edward's eyes to ensure he was watching his actions, before he illuminated the nearby wall by lighting another torch held tightly in the stone. Above the torch was a fair-sized illustration. It appeared crude, but Edward could understand the message it conveyed. It depicted a gathering of humans surrounding one in the center who appeared larger than the rest; This center leader had a tattoo on his chest very similar to the one seen on the man before Richtofen.

He lit another torch, guiding Richtofen along the wall as it told the story of their people. The next etching showed three humans in various situations: One hunted a jungle cat, another appeared to be constructing a hut, and another held a baby.

Continuing along the wall, Edward viewed an etched piece depicting a group of villagers and their leader kneeling before a large, round object that appeared to be emitting something outward. The next etching was very similar, however now there were more figures, their outlines marked in red. These figures were attacking the villagers without weapons, simply walking towards them, their arms raised.

The next panels showed what seemed to be a war with the mysterious figures from before, with much violence and death on both sides. It soon became clear, however, that the others were attempting to devour the villagers. These monsters continued to terrorize the people of the village, until Edward reached another panel, portraying some larger figure before the villagers. The large figure looked very similar to the less-detailed humans, but held many odd features, including an elongated skull, large teeth, and it seemed to float above them. They were praying before the creature, the leader even offering his headdress.

All through this demonstration, the leader of the village was narrating in his own tongue to Richtofen. As he approached this etching, the leader's voice seemed to elevate in urgency. The small humans in the etching stood dwarfed behind the massive, angular figure as it rained down lightning onto the red monsters that had been attacking the village.

Further down, Edward witnessed the arrival of more of the tall figures as they appeared to conjure up tools and assist in the construction of temples for the villagers. The final etchings chronicled the gift of one of the creatures' heads to the people, and their eventual leaving of the village. In one last panel, the villagers were depicted worshiping an altar holding the elongated head of their gods as the sun appeared solid black above them.

As Richtofen admired the stories and the statues of monkeys and elephants surrounding him, the head of the village motioned him towards the center of the room. Illuminated by his torch, the altar from the story was there before Richtofen, and atop its perfectly flat surface was the strange skull he had seen in wall etchings.

"This is… remarkable..."

The head of the village pointed his unwavering finger to a handcrafted bowl full of black rocks sitting nearby the skull on the altar. He spoke to Richtofen in a pleading manner, but with no method of understanding, Richtofen was simply confused.

The head of the village then placed both of his cupped hands around the bowl, then pulled them outward as if an explosion were emanating from the bowl. Just then, Richtofen noticed a crowd had gathered before him at the altar. Daring not to disappoint, Edward reached for his pocket, pulling out his lighter. Some in the crowd began to cheer as he did so, before silencing once again. Edward then lit the flame, and ignited the bowl of rocks creating a lasting fire on the altar. The spectacle had created an uproar in the crowd as they chanted in delight of the event. Through their cacophonous jubilation, however, Edward heard the soft, yet, striking voices once again, their sudden arrival raising Edward's heart rate.

"Certain events have come to pass just as they were foretold. They love you, Edward. They will do anything you say."

Edward slapped his right ear with his palm hoping to stop the voice in his head, before noticing another set of etchings in the side of the altar. The style, however, was very different from those on the wall. The figures were more detailed and finely precise, bordering on impossible to create with the stone tools available to the village.

From left to right, the illustrated story showed a being appearing from above wielding the power of fire from his hands. The members of the village were shown giving the gift of food to the god-like being. The next panel showed the fire-wielding figure standing in front of the rock shown in previous etchings that created the monsters. The figure was blasting the rock with a power emanating from his hands, destroying it as the villagers surrounded him, worshiping him.

"You've got them eating out of your hands, now. Haven't you always wanted to help the world, Edward? To make a change? Use them, Edward."

"Leave me alone!"

Not understanding of his frustration, the members of the village mimicked his speech, seeming to believe it was the chant of their gods.

"Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Leave me alone!"

Overwhelmed and sweating from a combination of the fire and his fear of the voices in his head, Edward stood dumbstruck as he was lauded by the people.

"Your name. Give it to them. Show them who will bring them salvation!"

Trembling, Richtofen stood in place, whispering to himself.

"No… stop it. Stop, stop, stop! I won't!"

"Do it, Edward. NOW!"

Shaken, Edward unhooked the name tag of his white lab coat, on it was marked his last name, 'RICHTOFEN'. With his quivering hand he tossed it onto the altar, backing away from it as the villagers examined it. The leader picked up the harmless plastic, gazing upon the Roman lettering before understanding what he must do. He called out to the crowd, and a single male villager approached, kneeling as he arrived. After a command from the leader, he took a chisel beside the altar and began to etch a design into the opposite side of the altar. The leader of the village pointed the tag at Edward, saying something in his own language, awaiting his rebuttal.

"Tell them, Edward. Tell them who their new king is! Do it!"

With hesitation, Edward spoke softly, looking to the stone floor.

"Richtofen…"

The crowd began to mutter amongst themselves, still looking at Edward.

"Again!"

"… I am… "

"Yes… "

"Richtofen!"

The village leader said in his own foreign accent, "Richtofen."

"Yes, I am Richtofen!"

"Richtofen! Richtofen! Richtofen!"

The crowd chanted his name with a candor Edward had never heard before.

"You've made a brave new step, Edward. Use them to find a way home. You will make the changes you've wanted to make since boyhood. But you must help us."

Dazed and mentally exhausted, Edward replied. "Und what is it you want? How will I leave this place?"

"Exit their temple through the path ahead and all of your questions will be answered."

The wall closest to the altar appeared to be a large, movable slab. Edward approached it, sweeping his hand along the symbolic, bumpy surface. The head of the village let out a command, and several men came to the right side of the slab, as they slowly shoved it aside to reveal the sunlit outdoors. The sight just outside this side of the temple was beautiful to Richtofen's worn eyes.

Stepping out of the temple, Richtofen could see the lush, green trees of the surrounding jungle paradise for miles, their many branches populated with vines and birds. In his ears were the sounds of flowing water from a nearby waterfall, and the howling of monkeys in the distance. The air was warm with very little wind, and the rays of the sun obscured just slightly by the cloudy morning skies. Below Edward was a series of stone steps leading to stone with grass and dirt sifting between the man-made floor. At the center of this area were the ruins of what looked to be an ancient stone-brick temple. It was overgrown with flora and the structure was barely standing with over half of the bricks seeming to be missing. Aside from the bottom of the staircase were two stone-carved lizard-like creatures with sails on their heads. A monkey could be seen resting in the crevice behind one of the dragons, scratching at its head with one hand. Most interesting of all were two wooden stands atop the ruins in the distance to Richtofen's immediate right and the left of the central ruins. High up in what would be the treeline, these stands held peculiar crystal orbs, larger than even the tires of an automobile in circumference. The beautiful, spotless crystals intrigued Richtofen greatly, who desired a closer look when he had the time.

"Breathtaking isn't it? A true, secluded cornucopia of harmony. Your purpose here will soon become evident. It was not by accident you found this place. It was destiny."

Pacing further out into the open air, Edward marveled at the gargantuan mountain range appearing through the fog to the immediate right of the temple.

"In just what area of the world am I?"

"Its location has been sought after for all of mankind's existence. You are in the mythic Shangri-La. There are men who would kill to find a home in this paradise. Follow your pawns, and you will know why you are here."

Edward searched his feelings, unsure if the voice was to be trusted, and unsure if this voice could sense the conflict in his heart or the thoughts running through his head. He felt as if he was taking advantage of the friendly natives of Shangri-La, promising them some form of heroism and leadership. Edward only wanted to find home, yet he was still tantalized by what this place may bestow upon him if he continued.

He took a few steps out, placing his feet just above the next step down the stairs. The steps were muddy, appearing to have been unused for a fair amount of time, and in his best interest, he was careful in his footing. The members of the village followed suit and looking back it appeared as if even more of the village had joined than he had thought.

Now at the base of the steps, Richtofen stepped forward into the stone-brick ruins before him. Entire sections of the structure were completely missing, leaving it entirely exposed to the sky. At the center on the floor was a large slab pushed into the ground with large bags of dirt on each corner of the square stone. There was a design engraved on the slab: An eight-pointed star filled with small squares, and at the center a large skull. It was eerie in appearance, but even more unsettling was a statue just out of the corner of Richtofen's left eye, in the corner of the small area. The statue was of a monkey, divided into four sections from top to bottom, and each section was spinning continuously. To the right of the monkey statue was a circular stone sticking out of the wall, with a skull engraving similar in design to the slab at the center of the floor. Looking around him, Edward also noted the same circular stone sticking out of the other three corners of the structure, and another at the center of the back wall, just above head-level. Nervous that there would be some sort of strange ritual, Edward looked towards the villagers, who were now fanning in all directions towards other areas of the ruins as they were directed by their leader. The leader approached Edward, bowing his head, and directing him to step away from the center slab.

After following his instructions, Edward watched as the villagers lifted the bags of dirt off of the stone slab. With no pressure on it any longer, the slab began to rise out of the earth slowly, scraping the inner stone wall as it did. The monkey statue in the corner began to clatter, and the head section stopped completely. As he continued to wait, Richtofen watched as the other sections of the statue slowed and came to a stop. Then, as villagers previously unseen returned to the group, they all looked towards the staircase leading up to the temple, and that is when Richtofen noticed two eight-point star-shaped stones descending down the sides of the staircase slowly, as if on a timer. As Edward mentally counted roughly a half a minute, the stones had reached the bottom of the staircase, and an entire section of it sank into the ground near the base. To follow, a surge of water gushed out of the head of the temple like a waterfall, flowing to the very bottom via gravity, before collecting in a small trench where the bottom steps had been. After a short amount of time, the two dragons at each side of the steps began to stream water from their mouths, frightening the monkey that previously sat atop one. The water then drained into a hole in the ground until the water stopped gushing from the temple.

The villagers began to chant in revelry as the leader approached Edward and kneeled before him, directing his attention to the head of the temple. He then directed four villagers at each corner of the small structure to press the circular skull tablets into the walls. After a few moments, Edward's sight became blurry, and he covered his eyes attempting to re-center his vision. He felt a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach, with a hint of altitude sickness and a similar weightlessness felt during teleportation, only this time it felt more sustained. Upon opening his eyes once more, it became completely and utterly apparent just what he was meant to do in Shangri-La.

Atop the temple, where a large chunk of the stone had appeared to be missing, there was now a massive, pulsating blue meteorite of Element 115. It matched exactly the rocks he had been testing with at Der Riese, and the deposit discovered there was not even this large.

"So you see, Edward, it was destiny that you discovered our gateway on your moon and ended up here. Think of the possibilities with this meteorite. These people... they have no use for it; But you are a genius, and you know what must be done. There is more here, just below ground, ready to be mined by your loyal subjects. Do the right thing, Edward, for humanity's sake. You will find a way to return to the pyramid where we met, and there we will acquire more power than you could possibly imagine."

"Power… that's what this is, is it? This… can't be right. You aren't real. I've just spent too long in the heat..."

"Don't be foolish, Edward. We are real. We only want what's best for you and your race. I promise you that there is a great reward for you, but you only need to listen."

"I won't!"

"In time, Edward, you will see what you are capable of, and we will ensure that you do."

"Stop it!"

"Celebrate with the village; Make a spectacle of how you will destroy the meteor that has terrorized them for generations. They will show you the ways of the Ancients, and the powers they held, and what they left behind in this land for you to find."

"The Ancients? No, no, no… the Vril-Ya are just Groph's ramblings… they can't-"

"Only time will tell what awaits you. When the time is right, return home, and bring back the tools to harness the power that Shangri-La holds!"

"I can't! These people and this land have been untouched for-"

"They've been waiting for you, Edward. You are their hero. Don't disappoint them. Don't disappoint us. Besides… it appears that the Illuminati has already made contact with them… they lied to you Edward."

Chapter 9: Novus Ordo Seclorum

Laboratories, The Giant ("Der Riese"), near Breslau

Dr. Baron Schuster

January 23rd, 1940

Doctor Schuster was all out of hope. In the eighteen days since Edward Richtofen's disappearance during the matter transference testing, Doctor Schuster had failed to discover any trace of his colleague anywhere at Der Riese. As the test had commenced, the receiving pad failed to activate, causing Edward's body to disappear completely with only smoke in his place. Upon investigation, Schuster discovered not a failure in the design of the receiving pad, but a loose connection between the receiving pad and the transference device. His initial reaction was to blame an unseen saboteur; After all, Schuster was positively sure he had set up the device as Edward had specified. However, Schuster came to feel he was shirking the responsibility of his actions, and he bore a painful guilt as he decided that he, alone, failed to take necessary safety precautions, and as such, Schuster was wholly liable for this failure.

In these passing days, Schuster has spent many agonizing, sleepless nights searching for Edward and researching into a method of reversing his grave mistake. Alas, there would be no respite as Schuster made no such breakthrough. Other scientists of Group 935 had begun to ask where Richtofen had been and, being his closest associate, Schuster had received a majority of the questioning. Schuster stayed isolated in the lab that was host to his greatest failure, toiling away with the research he and Edward had conducted in their time on the project. With no receiving area for the MTD, it was not inherently clear where a test subject would be allocated in the event of activation. Schuster's initial theory was that without a clear pathway for Edward to be transported through, he would be held, or 'stored', within the device itself at some smaller, cosmic level, and upon re-connection with an ample receiving pad, Edward would be sent completely through. Unfortunately, through a series of tests, this theory was deemed to be untrue as no trace of him reappeared no matter Schuster's method.

Before Edward's disappearance, he had discussed the possibility of a 'wireless' connection between the MTD and receiving pad, as the next logical step following the 'wired' version. He proposed that with Element 115's immense power, the MTD could be used in conjunction with a beacon-like signal connecting it to other MTDs around the world, forming a network of intercontinental transportation. Schuster had always admired Edward's forward thinking and motivation to succeed, and he acted no differently in modifying the MTD to test these capabilities later.

While it was wired, the modifications Edward had made to the prototype were meant to be compatible with other MTDs once production of more had gone underway. For a time, the theory that Edward had been sent somewhere else ran through Schuster's mind, however, this was impossible, as there were no other devices like the MTD in existence, and thus no connection could have been made.

It struck Schuster today, finally: Edward must be dead, or worse yet, vaporized and dispelled into the air following the fateful test. In the pit of his empty stomach, Schuster's guilt and pain swelled until Schuster was but a hollow mess of crushing defeat and restlessness. Not fit to leave Edward's legacy behind, Schuster strode to Edward's locker inside the lab, its door still open just as he had left it weeks before. In life, Schuster would never have invaded Edward's privacy in such a manner, but he felt a need for connection with the departed unlike any other time in his life.

He reached inside, pulling out Richtofen's hand-written diary. For a moment, he hesitated, and in an uncharacteristic act of boldness he read over the pages, skimming through some of Richtofen's first few weeks working for Group 935. The weathered little book held many minute quirks of Richtofen's. There were little jottings of ideas, and sketches of said ideas with descriptions and details of their functions.

On the entry marked the 3rd of September, 1939, Schuster discovered the day Richtofen had epiphanized the idea for his next project, the Wunderwaffe DG-2, a project Edward had kept close in hand in life.

"In my time working with Maxis, I have become increasingly disillusioned with the unsightly image of corpses rising from the dead. I do not want to discredit Doctor Maxis, but I fear his interest in these foul creatures is misguided; I suppose that is what a dead wife and a little Mädchen will do to your focus. He has allowed me to establish a defense system throughout Der Riese in the event of some sort of outbreak; Lord help us if these abominations ever escaped the laboratories. I created the electro-shock defense system to fry them with over 200,000 amps of electricity, more than the electric chair. An undignified and inhumane death for Maxis' unholy resurrections: How fitting. In the event the alarm system is sounded, which I have dubbed The Shield, these defenses can be activated in major doorways of Der Riese to block entry from the undead, while others are blocked by electronic, steel gates. The facility will be completely locked down and, if protocol is followed to the letter, all research and sensitive materials will be destroyed.

Today in the news, we discovered that Hitler had sent German forces into Poland just yesterday. I fear what this will mean for our international scientists in Group 935, however, Maxis appeared indifferent, and perhaps a little too eager. He once said that in times like these, creating weaponry may be a beneficial pursuit should this conflict escalate. I do not know what he meant by this; We are scientists, not warmongers. It did, however, lead me into thinking of a conceptual device utilizing elements of my electroshock system and the Die Glocke project thus far. I call it the Wunderwaffe DG-2, which I believe will be the first of many defensive weapons that could use the power of 115. It is the second iteration of the design, the first being rejected outright by Doctor Maxis. I will keep the DG-2 a secret from him until I have a working prototype. Frankly, I have lost a great deal of respect for the Doctor as of late, just as I have for my superiors in the Order."

Schuster stopped reading there, puzzled by Edward's reference to an 'Order'. He could not think of anyone Edward might be referencing and concluded that this must be some sort of secret being kept from Schuster. He read on, continuing to find mentions of this 'Order' but little in the ways of context or explanation into the meaning. He searched through the most recent entries in an attempt to find some hint of where Richtofen could have ended up, but there was no hope to be found.

Schuster placed the diary back into its place, leaving the locker ajar as it was. He looked around the trashed, disorganized laboratory once more, fearing the worst as he would have to face Doctor Maxis alone, and present him with the fact that Edward was gone, forever, because of Schuster's failure with the project Maxis had insisted they discontinue. Set in his path and ready to face the end of his career, Doctor Schuster decided to initiate one last diary entry to bookend the creation, testing, and failure of the MTD. He dusted off a recording device sitting upon the nearby table and activated it.

"Log Entry 43. Date: January 23rd, 1940. I cannot be certain what happened to Doctor Richtofen. Once the test commenced, he just disappeared from the machine into thin air. I have searched the area for days and have no evidence that he is anywhere. I am afraid I might have to scrap the-"

The door to the laboratory swung open, and out of the doorway came the full-bodied, but evidently disheveled Doctor Richtofen, his white lab coat soaked with sweat, and in his hands the audio recorder once on his person during the test, jogging towards a dumbfounded and relieved Doctor Schuster.

"Don't scrap anything! We have done something, something wondrous." Edward cocked his head towards the wall as if a noise caught his attention. "Shhh. Do you hear them?"

Unperturbed by the strangeness but relieved all the same, Schuster approached Edward, his arms reaching to Edward's shoulders. Surprised and jittery, Edward flinched as Schuster touched him.

"Doctor Richtofen, you're alive!"

"I'm more than alive, mister Schuster. Is the device still intact?"

Though he was satisfied in seeing Edward alive again, Schuster noticed the bemusing differences Richtofen possessed from himself on the test day. Richtofen seemed almost manic in his speech, stuttering as if being constantly interrupted, and his gait was much less professional, instead he slouched and paced as he walked, and seemed to be restless, unable to stand still as he spoke with Schuster.

"Yes, but, what happened to you?"

"Aaah, something wunderbar! That chamber was incredible, the wonders we could learn!"

"What are you talking about? Are you alright?"

"Get in the Matter Transference Prototype, Doctor Schuster. We have work to do."

Doctor Richtofen grabbed two pairs of earplugs and walked with Doctor Schuster towards the MTD, passing a pair of the plugs to him.

"You will need these. They don't block out everything, but it helps."

The MTD activated on a timer after Richtofen input several commands on the control panel, and Doctor Schuster experienced a strange, unprecedented feeling as his vision clouded with smoke and then blinding light. The stimulation came to an end and Schuster could finally see, though it was very little. Curiously, he felt light on his feet, apparently experiencing low gravity. For a moment he thought he had gone blind, as there was utter blackness, then, a light from Doctor Richtofen's lighter flickered to life, and Schuster could see his surroundings. They had been sent to a dark, spacious, rocky cave with a solid-black void in the shape of a pyramid at the center of the room.

"Why am I... weightless? And what is that… that pyramid? Excuse my language, but where the hell are we?"

"Doctor Schuster, if my theory is correct, I believe we are on the Moon, and this device is a gateway: A gateway... to another dimension."

"Another dimension? Is Doctor Groph here as well, feeding you this lunacy?"

"Nein, but I'm beginning to think much of what he says is truer than we've ever thought possible. He was right about 935 partnering with the Nazi Party, was he not?"

"What are you suggesting are the origins of this pyramid-gateway… device?"

"Doctor Groph, in his study of the Vril-Ya and similar mythologies, mentioned something about three flying pyramids, gateways to the Aether, a dimension beyond our understanding. These pyramids could fly through space und time. The ancient Vril-Ya built these devices to travel between dimensions at will. Though Doctor Groph believed in the existence of the Vril-Ya, and their space-traveling technology, he did not fully believe that they could travel between dimensions. He saw this as creative liberties taken by those who publish books on them, but this pyramid fit the description perfectly from the stories told."

"I'm not sure what to say... it all sounds a bit mad."

"You must believe me, Doctor Schuster, I couldn't believe it either! After so much time away, I have seen things you wouldn't believe. Things… you couldn't even imagine."

"What could we do with such a discovery? Should we tell the others at Group 935?"

"Certainly not everyone, especially not Maxis, that… that fool! But I know several members of Group 935 who have lately shown a distaste for Doctor Maxis' policies. They could help us build a station here, and we can discover the power this device holds, und use it to change the world, just as we always wanted."

"Okay, my other concern is... how did you arrive back on... well... Earth?"

"In my tampering with the device when I initially arrived und after a painful, irritating, aggravating, grievous shock… ahem, the front panel of the pyramid began to spark, und it teleported me to some god-forsaken jungle where I was chased down by its native people. From my time there, I made some more new discoveries."

"Do tell."

"After a brief quarrel with the natives, I took advantage of their primitive nature, and convinced them I am their God. You see, their people had met the Vril-Ya generations ago, and to keep the story short und simple, they showed me what has been causing trouble for them ever since: Something that caused terror for their ancestors and serves to still wipe them out today."

"What? What is it?"

"A meteor made up of Element 115 crashed into their temple some time ago, leaving traces of itself in the surrounding area. They avoided these traces due to its effects on their dead."

"My God, that's horrible."

"What's horrible is the power held within those rocks going unused for so long. I do not care how our test has appeared to fail. This was truly a success, Doctor Schuster, and you are, in part, responsible. We must return to my kingdom in the jungle, where the natives will do the heavy lifting in recovering the element for our work on this base."

"How will we acquire the resources to mine it exactly?"

"I know for a fact many of the members from the excavation team would jump at the chance to undermine Maxis… " Richtofen chuckled to himself, before continuing, "Any-who, they will have the tools we need."

"This plan is ingenious, Edward! So much potential for what can be done here... Think of it: We are the first men to walk on the Moon, and soon the first to enter into another dimension!"

"I'm glad we can see eye-to-eye, Doctor Schuster. Now, we must return and find others to join us. We should avoid bringing up what exactly this device can do until we are sure everyone on the team is on board with our plan und we are able to trust them. Doctor Maxis can never find out what we will do here."

"Absolutely. Now, Edward, how were you able to return to the MTD receiving pad all the way from the jungle?"

"Near the deposit of Element 115, I was shown an ancient structure embedded within the dirt that had similar markings to this pyramid. I determined it was an ancient transference device, likely designed by the Vril-Ya to travel to this very cave. I was able to return to this pyramid, und through trial und a little error, I sent myself back to Der Riese. Mein gott, Doctor Schuster, there were many strange, cosmic happenings in the temple, und I am eager to discover just what their significance is. Destiny appears to have connected our MTD with this pyramid, und with this discovery in mind, I believe I can begin full construction of the 'wireless' matter transference devices we discussed to aid our travel here."

"That is such great news, Doctor Richtofen, but, I will admit I am far happier that you're still alive after so long."

"There is little time for sentimentality, Doctor Schuster. We should begin our work once more. I will introduce you to the village."

"Oh, yes. Perhaps afterwards I could get some rest, if that's alright. I have not slept since, well, I cannot really-"

"That's quite alright, Doctor Schuster. I need you at full attention for our plan to succeed."

"Thank you, Edward. I… actually have a question for you. Well, a confession as well."

Richtofen began to twitch and blink repeatedly, looking irritated as he spoke.

"Yes, what, SH, I am talking to my friend!"

"Oh, uh, who?"

"No, no, you! I am talking to you, Doctor Schuster, go on, please! Speak a little louder!"

"Well, after the test, I searched for you for days, and today I came to face the possibility that you were… dead. And so, regretfully… I skimmed through your diary."

"Oh?"

"Simply as an attempt to reconnect with a dear friend who I thought had passed. I hope you can forgive me for my moment of weakness. But, I read through some of your entries and I saw you mentioned many times some type of 'Order.' I've never heard you mention these people you wrote of, and perhaps I am prying too much in asking, but, I am ever so curious who these people are that you are reporting to with all of your discoveries."

"Hm… I can forgive you, Schuster. I understand my absence must have been troubling, und I thank you for continuing to have faith in the MTD for so long. To answer your question, the Order is, well, an old group of... ahem, friends. They, as well as I do, want to make the world a better place. They live their lives in secret just as we in Group 935 do, but they have greater purpose, or at least, I thought they did..."

"What do you mean?"

"Doctor Schuster, I would not worry about them anymore. Lately, the Illuminati have failed to assist me in my ventures und so I have kept things from them. I will no longer need them going forward nor the influence they possess. They have become too preoccupied with this damned war. I will change the world myself. Without them."

"I still do not quite understand… "

"Oh, naive, innocent Doctor Schuster, I kept this from you because I was afraid you might think less of me. Also, by their mandate, I would have probably had to silence you by killing you... But, that is over now. I will wash my hands of them forever when we arrive back at Der Riese. From this point forward, it is you und I who will do the right thing in this- SH! Do you hear that too?!"

"Hear what, Edward? Are you alright?"

"No, I won't make him do that! Stop! Sh! Ach!"

Edward cupped his ears, bobbing his head back and forth with a face of intense agony as sweat dripped from his forehead.

"Don't worry, Doctor Schuster… I'm alright. Together we will endure!" Edward let out a nervous chuckle.

Edward adjusted the panel at the forefront of the pyramid, causing it to spark and begin to distort Schuster's view. He felt the weightlessness of teleportation once again, as the light shone bright. Being sure Edward was still close nearby, Schuster shut his eyes and anticipated an uncertain future waiting for him in the jungle. Schuster was concerned for Richtofen's mind, as it appeared to be permanently frazzled from his isolation from civilization. Schuster could only hope that with this newfound power, Edward would do the right thing.

Chapter 10: Second Coming

Courtyard, Der Riese, near Breslau

Dr. Edward Richtofen

March 13th, 1940

With a newfound eagerness to return to his post at Group 935, ideas flowed through Edward's head as he contemplated the future. Though Maxis would be an obstacle in his research, returning to Group 935 was simply the right thing to do. It would be wrong of Richtofen to rest on his laurels while the Moon base is under construction. There is still much to be done.

The previous week, Richtofen had made a telephone call to Doctor Maxis informing him of his return from his sabbatical and that he would like to establish a meeting to discuss the Wunderwaffe DG-2, a device Richtofen had been perfecting in his free time. What Maxis did not know, however, was that Richtofen had also been spending his time away planning the construction of a lunar base, an operation that Maxis must know nothing about. It would be independent of any world government, but secretly funded by Maxis and his Nazi friends. Richtofen had also spent his time making lists of those in Group 935 he could trust and those he could not. He had already contacted several members of the excavation team at Der Riese to begin building a framework for the station, supplied with pressurized suits designed to allow for survival in the vacuum of space. Richtofen and Schuster had learned a great deal studying the mysterious pyramid device during this time, and were now able to directly teleport between Der Riese, the Moon, and the jungle known as "Shangri-La," which would be the next location he would build a research station.

Times are good, truly.

With great effervescence, Richtofen entered the courtyard of Der Riese, surrounded by the hurly-burly shuffling of scientists and factory workers moving between Der Riese's many campus buildings. Edward approached the center of the courtyard, looking out towards the direction of the laboratories. Behind the metal fence and on the catwalk above stood Doctor Maxis, leaning against the railing and speaking with Doctor Porter.

Richtofen clenched his right hand around the handle of the Wunderwaffe's case he was carrying, feeling a twinge of frustration as the voices returned.

"Edward, my boy, keep the facade. Bear a smile and the old fool will bend to your will."

"Ja, ja... let me think for myself for a moment!"

The busy scientists around Edward paid him no mind, preoccupied with whatever projects they were assigned.

Doctor Maxis noticed Richtofen standing awkwardly among the crowd down below. Maxis seemed pleased at first, but uneasy, as after all, the last time he had seen Edward he had shot down his success with the MTD.

Richtofen put on his best smile, waving his left hand in the air to affirm Maxis' attention. Maxis looked upward towards the giant clock looming over the courtyard, noting the time, then nodded to Doctor Porter before going the opposite direction of him. Their meeting was scheduled for 0815 hours, just forty-five minutes from now. With Maxis now on his way to his office, Richtofen headed in that direction as well.

Taking a shortcut through a nearby laboratory building, Richtofen passed many closed-off rooms, inside holding many scientists performing experiments using loud machinery. Richtofen had nearly reached the rear entrance leading towards the building where Maxis' office would be when he was suddenly grabbed by the shoulder and twisted around by a familiar, animated scientist.

Doctor Groph panted as he spoke, apparently out of breath, "Doctor Richtofen! I received your telegram- with- with all the details! This is incredible! Vril-Ya technology! On the Moon no less-"

Richtofen leaned in, barking in a hushed tone, "Quiet! Have you lost your mind, Herr Groph?!"

"Forgive my elation, Doctor! I will ensure this remains a secret from Doctor Maxis."

"Not just Maxis, Doctor Groph, but everyone in his inner circle. Until we know who we can trust, this is to remain between us."

"I understand, Doctor Richtofen... But you must tell me, were you able to determine how the structure was able to provide oxygen? I have a theory myself."

"All in due time. Go to the site where those unsightly pillars are being built. Ask for Herr Sauers, und he will put you through to Doctor Schuster, who will answer all of your questions... Well... most of your questions."

Doctor Groph bounded away with excitement back towards the courtyard area, his arms raised to his head.

"Direct communication between here and... Mein Gott!"

Richtofen's muscles relaxed and he finally felt the ability to breathe in peace, looking back towards the exit. He muttered to himself, "Groph is not quite right in the head… "

"Indubitably." Even the voices concur.

Richtofen pushed through the exit leading him to a street between rows of laboratory buildings. German military vehicles and transport trucks lined the sidewalks as scientists unloaded materials. It seems the alliance with Germany has brought an abundance of spoils for Group 935. Perhaps it was wrong of Edward to have doubted their usefulness.

Edward approached an office building at the end of the street, passing the desk attendant heading towards Maxis' office.

"Doctor, wait! Do you have an appointment?"

Richtofen scoffed, looking back towards the female desk attendant, who had stood up from her desk in trying to get his attention.

"Do you know who I am?"

"Yes, Doctor Richtofen, but Doctor Maxis asked that all visitors wait for him to call-"

"Ludvig will understand. We go back a long, long time!"

Richtofen continued down the hall, stopping at Doctor Maxis' office, the door marked with a plaque reading 'Ludvig Maxis M.D.' He straightened his jacket and twisted the knob on the door to reveal a young woman with blonde hair and a short dress sitting on Maxis' desk, and Maxis himself in his chair, now gazing angrily towards Doctor Richtofen.

"Is this a bad time, Doctor?"

"Thirty-two minutes ahead of schedule is as good a time as any, I suppose... Check in with the receptionist next time, would you, Edward?"

"Of course! Danke schoen und guten Morgen to you Doctor Maxis! I assume this fine young Fräulein is your new assistant... My, my, Doctor, a little young, don't you think?"

Visibly annoyed, Doctor Maxis motioned for the young woman to shake Doctor Richtofen's hand.

"This is Sophia. She writes my memorandums, plans my day, and looks after Samantha while she is here."

"Ah, how wunderbar, you certainly deserve the help for all that you've done for this organization. I'm sure Sophia here is quite helpful."

Richtofen kissed the young assistant's hand, before sending it aside and passing her to put his full attention towards the task at hand.

"Close the door on the way out, would you, Schnuckelchen? Ja, thank you."

Sophia left the office with an uncomfortable smile, shutting the door to leave Richtofen and Maxis alone. Richtofen lifted the case containing the Wunderwaffe onto Maxis' desk, causing it to creak under the enormous weight. In the process, a framed photo of Doctor Maxis and his late wife fell face down.

"Slow down, Edward, we have a lot more to discuss than this pet project you're dying to show me. You've been gone for quite some time and I need to get you back up to speed."

Maxis readjusted the photo on his desk as Richtofen took a seat, leaning forward towards the desk.

"Apologies, Doctor. You must understand how hard it is to contain my excitement! This device before you is the culmination of all of my life's work. I believe I have created the perfect weapon using Element 115."

"Be that as it may, Edward, you've been on a two month sabbatical that I had not even realized you had taken… That is, until Doctor Schuster informed me weeks in and promptly resigned... If I didn't trust your judgment, Edward, I'd have feared you too were leaving after my comments regarding your work on the MTD. It was my error for not being truthful about our involvement with the Nazi Party from the start."

"How very humble of you, Doctor Maxis. I accept your apologies. All of them! I believe in my time away I have found a new appreciation for the decisions you've made. Times are difficult, und just outside I saw many men of science with the tools they needed. I must assume this is a result of your leadership. It is a shame that some do not agree..."

"Yes, we have lost some great minds. It is unfortunate about Doctor Schuster."

"Doctor Schuster is a brilliant man with a faint heart... Such a pure soul for a man of science. I'm afraid he was unable to accept his work going towards a party with such a radical agenda."

"In any case, I promise you, just as I have promised every other scientist in Group 935, that our work will not be hindered by this alliance."

Doctor Maxis poured a cup of green tea and handed it to Doctor Richtofen before raising his own for a toast.

"To improving the human condition," they said in unison.

The two men sipped from their cups, Richtofen placing the sub-par tea back onto the desk.

Maxis placed his tea aside, looking over a written document with bullet point notes, "Now, Doctor Richtofen, with Schuster gone you will need another lab assistant for your tests on the Untoten."

"Oh, Doctor Maxis, don't worry about-"

"As you know, it is our policy that there should be at least two scientists in every laboratory, and many of our more experienced staff members are busy elsewhere. Your work on unlocking the secrets of the mind will require a precise, younger touch. I'm assigning a recent graduate by the name Hans Wagner to assist you. He is a protégé of mine whom I would trust with my life."

"Oh, wunderbar..."

"He is elated that he will finally be able to meet you, Edward. He will be in your lab within the hour."

"Joy."

"We are truly lucky to be living in these times, Edward. Everything just seems to be falling into place for us! With the surplus funds the Reichstag has provided, I do believe Group 935 is due for an expansion. The only issue I find is a lack of Element 115 in our possession. Word has trickled down to me from our agents that the Americans have a supply of it in Nevada. Surely the Reichstag could find us another supply for our needs. There must be more out there!"

"I haven't the faintest idea where there might be more, Doctor. But expansion of our operations is a wunderbar idea. You must let me know of any new developments. It will be quite the burden of responsibility for you to manage so many facilities, no?"

"Yes, well, there is always more work to keep our good luck from running short. Always so much to do... Perhaps it would be best if I found new helping hands to lead as we expand. I won't be around these halls forever, after all, and Samantha... She will soon start home-schooling."

Edward shifted in his chair, grinning as he leaned in and said, "You've made many sacrifices in the name of science, Ludvig. I would be honored if, someday, you decided to give me some administrative responsibility."

Doctor Maxis leaned back in his chair, silent for a moment with a sullen face, and looked at the portrait of himself and his wife.

"Believe me, Edward, when the work is too much for me, you will be the first one I call."

Richtofen nodded, satisfied with the seeds he had planted.

"Now then, Doctor Richtofen, before you left, you were working with Doctor Schuster on the Untoten experiments, yes?"

"Oh, ja, I remember that. Completely."

Maxis pulled a folder with documents pertaining to the experiments from his drawer.

"I took the liberty of sorting through the results from previous experiments, which were incredibly disorganized, but legible enough for Sophia and I, nonetheless. It seems positive results were minimal."

"Oh, yes, I remember... The best thing I could teach the subjects to do was salivate on command."

"Something Pavlov achieved with canines decades ago. I believe it is time for a more direct approach. They do not seem to respond to stimuli like other observable living creatures. This may be a biological issue, which I believe is one of your specialties?"

"I have not practiced outside of the realm of Physics in years, but I would never turn down the challenge."

"Good. I believe working with the brain itself may be the key to unlocking the mind in the subjects. Perhaps decay in the frontal lobe is preventing them from responding to commands without violence. I've given a copy of these documents to Doctor Wagner and he should be up to date on the experiments by the time he arrives. You are to report the results to me as is standard. Controlling the living dead may be the ticket to our permanent place in the scientific world. I am entrusting this crucial experiment with you, Edward."

"Then you must trust me when I say that the Wunderwaffe may also be one of those tickets!"

"Yes, yes, I did not forget, Edward. Go ahead."

Richtofen stood up swiftly, unlatching the case sitting atop Maxis' desk, and revealing the device. It sat cradled in a custom-shaped foam casing, and in the top half of the case was a folder containing test results. Richtofen handed Maxis the folder, before carefully lifting the Wunderwaffe DG-2, caressing it in his arms before taking a grip on both handles. The device's center had three outlets for Tesla bulbs which it used as ammunition, as well as a switch to ready the weapon. It was a bulky and incredibly heavy piece of equipment, requiring two hands to hold. The under-barrel of the device was box-like, with exposed circuitry, and a wire connecting the box with a small power supply.

Maxis shifted his chair away from the desk, leaning towards the wall, away from the end of the weapon. "Is the device active?"

"Nein, do not worry, Doctor Maxis. Without the bulbs the firing mechanism should not activate. What you see before you is mein greatest work, the Wunderwaffe DG-2 prototype. Harnessing the inherent conductive properties within Element 115, much like the electro-shock defenses, a concentrated bolt is sent directly to the target through the barrel, electrocuting anything it comes into contact with and any other nearby organic beings. In its current stage, it is absolutely lethal und accurate. You will find in the results that the maximum number of targets with one bolt is currently four before the effect begins to decrease in effectiveness. My goal is upwards of twenty four targets before lethality drops off."

"I thought we had discussed ending the Wunderwaffe project?"

"Yes, the first generation of the program was a bit… haphazard. But I have taken great care to overhaul the DG-1's designs in creating the DG-2. It is far more practical und efficient in its power usage."

"Is it safe to use for the operator?"

"If the target is a safe distance away. If too close, however, there is the potential that the operator will become a part of the chain of targets... But from a distance it is perfectly safe apart from a little heat in the face. Due to its size und weight, it would be best brought into battle with two operators to carry the device und its power supply. It could also be mounted on gunships or tanks. Further improvements will be made in miniaturizing the power supply to allow it to be wielded by a single operator."

"You believe it would help the German war effort to invest further into the project?"

"To that I say indubitub... indutable... indubitably!"

Maxis pressed his back in his chair and peered down at the device inquisitively. "I see some potential in this weapon, Doctor... I will send a copy of these results to the Reichstag. If they have any right mind, they will want to see more from you. Excellent work, Edward."

"Thank you, Doctor Maxis. I was afraid you would take issue with how I've spent so much of my time on the DG-2. Do you see it going into production here at Der Riese?"

"I promise, Edward, with the results you've shown me today, the Wunderwaffe DG-2 should see our production lines within the year. For now, we should focus on what the Reichstag has instructed us to do, and that is to pursue creating this army of Untoten. I will send your results as soon as it is opportune, Doctor Richtofen."

"Thank you, Doctor. This has been a lovely meeting of the minds. I bid you farewell!"

Richtofen placed the device back into its case, latching it shut before hoisting it from the desk and heading towards the door, leaving behind his now cold cup of tea.

"And Edward?"

"Yes, Doctor?"

"The Reichstag wants us to inform all Group 935 scientists that there will be mandatory background checks coming this month. You should have received a letter from them with the required documentation. I would suggest you look over it and clear out your box. I'm told your mail has been piling up since you've left."

"Danke. Goodbye, Doctor Maxis."

Doctor Richtofen shut the door behind him, marching towards the front entrance, smirking at the receptionist as he passed by. Opening the door to the street outside, he placed the case on the ground safely before pumping his fist into the air in exaltation. With Maxis firmly in the palm of his hands, Richtofen could begin his real work in unlocking the potential of the Moon Pyramid Device, now shortened to M.P.D.

Arriving at the mailroom, Richtofen peered into his mailbox. As Maxis had explained before, it was overflowing with letters. Edward took them in his hands, walking towards his laboratory where he would wait for this new little problem, Doctor Wagner.

The room had been cleaned heavily since his return from the Moon and Schuster's departure. Edward placed the letters on the central table, sorting through them to find any potentially urgent messages he may have missed. Most were letters from other scientists, which Edward presumed were most likely to praise and adore his work. But one in particular caught his eye. A letter from Hermann Becker, the chief Illuminati leader in Germany. Edward opened the letter to view its contents.

To our Faithful Servant, Doctor Edward Richtofen,

Since your resignation letter we received in January, the Order has reviewed your membership through due process. As you know, our code dictates that all members' resignation or acceptance into the Order must be reviewed with extreme scrutiny and carefully approved or denied by all leading members. Your letter and the accompanying cloth bag of unwashed robes came with such short notice. Many of us were stunned and frustrated with your decision. You have proven yourself a worthy member of the Order and a loyal part of our plan, and as such we have unanimously agreed to allow your safe departure from the Order. You will, however, lose access to all Illuminati opportunities. This includes your former laboratory at Alcatraz Island, the Hanford Site, our facilities in Vienna, and our central hall in Ingolstadt. Agents of the Order will be keeping a watchful eye over your actions to ensure the safety of our secrets, but we are sure you are to be trusted as you have endured the trials of membership and taken your oath to the New Enlightenment. Attached to this letter are farewell messages from members who chose to send them with their vote to allow your resignation. As you surely know, this document and all attached documents are to be burned or shredded after reading.

Herr Becker, First Circle of the European Nations

Doctor Richtofen smirked for a moment, remembering he had sent his resignation to the Illuminati the day after he returned from the Moon, paying no mind to any potential repercussions. He knew the Order could do nothing to silence him with his level of notoriety. Amused, Doctor Richtofen looked into the attached letters from other members of the Order. One letter in particular, however, ruined his day.

Uncle Teddy,

It is with great sadness that this letter of resignation has arrived at my office today. Just this morning I thought of my father and his relationship with you. The two of you never saw eye-to-eye on much. He never much cared for the Illuminati taking over his prison, and thankfully I was able to convince him to allow us access. He was still unhappy with your presence in particular. I do, however, believe he found a new respect for you shortly before his suicide. I share the sentiment with him, for the most part.

It is unfortunate your laboratory will be turned over to another in the organization. I will miss your wacky antics and experiments that nearly exposed its location to the late night guardsmen under my employ. Perhaps I may sound bitter, but that I am not. It brings me great joy to see you moving on to other things that may enrich the world outside of the confines of the Order. Perhaps you and this Maxis have a better relationship than you and my father, and perhaps Group 935 will suit your needs just fine. I wish you all the best, Teddy.

Joseph Crawford, Warden of Alcatraz Prison, Second Circle of the Americas

Edward frowned, crumpling up the incessant letter and setting it aside to burn. He viewed another.

Doctor Richtofen,

I am indubitably disappointed by your actions, Edward. You had so much potential to change the world for the better and you've squandered it by distancing yourself from the Order in the past year. We rarely received news of your discoveries and movements in Group 935's leadership, and now you have decided to resign from your position to do what exactly? "It is simply the right thing to do," is what you said, which is frankly puzzling to hear. I trust you will keep our secrets, however, I do not understand your decision. When you first joined the Illuminati, you were so eager to mould a new, perfect world. You told us all that you would prefer to work in the shadows to improve humanity's overall happiness, without them even knowing your name. Now you spend your time in this Group 935, run by that pompous, self-absorbed man they call Ludvig Maxis. It seems now you only care for the glory and riches that comes with your genius. How could you abandon your obligation to the Order like this, Edward?

I do not expect an answer, as I'm sure you are continuing to distance yourself from the Order as I write this message. You would have proven such a valuable asset in taming this great war, and it is a shame to see you leave, old friend.

- Mr. P., Second Circle of the Americas

Edward scoffed at his old friend's use of code names like a child pretending to be a secret agent. No amount of shaming would make Edward regret his decision to leave on a new path. Edward only wished he had seen the letter sooner.

There Edward stood for a moment, the letter in hand, as he began to feel an aching feeling in his temples. He began to hear whispers behind him, and as he turned, there was no one, but the whispers continued to guide him out of the lab and into the hallway outside. He looked left and right, but the voices guided him down a corridor to a laboratory two doors away, the letter still in hand. Edward knocked on the door and waited a moment as an older scientist approached, smiling before opening it.

"Doctor Richtofen! It's an honor to finally meet you."

The older doctor outstretched his hand for a handshake, but the whispers guided Richtofen elsewhere, to the younger scientist in the corner, viewing something through a microscope. Richtofen approached this scientist, who raised his head to meet Doctor Richtofen's gaze. Getting closer, the scientist raised his whole body revealing a name tag, 'Dr. Novák'.

The two scientists stared at each other for a moment as the scientist who had opened the door backed away, returning to his work. As Edward looked into his eyes, the voices in his head grew louder before slowly silencing.

Richtofen pushed the letter from Mr. P. into the scientist's chest, who took it in his hands to look over. Richtofen leaned in, stating with his hands making air quotes, "'Mr. P.' asked how I could abandon my obligation to the Order. Tell him and the others, 'Teddy was a liar.' "

The young scientist thought silently for a moment, placing the letter into his jacket pocket before asking, "How did you know I was-"

Edward cut him off as he walked out the door, saying, "Auf Wiedersehen, Doctor."

***TOP SECRET***

***LEVEL 1 CLEARANCE EYES ONLY***

***DER RIESE RECORDING #6***

SUMMARY:

The following is a transcript of the sixth in a series of recordings that originated from the Der Riese test facility in Lower Silesia. The voice heard in this recording is DR. LUDWIG MAXIS. This transcript is a dictation of a letter to the Reichstag High Command requesting additional funds for the Wunderwaffe projects. The recipient of this dictation is his presumed secretary, a woman by the name of SOPHIA (full identity unknown).

Note that Dr. Maxis makes reference to "operatives in America." The identities of these operatives were never uncovered.

**START**

[Static.]

MAXIS: Sophia, this letter is to go to the Reichstag High Command immediately.

MAXIS (cont): Gentlemen, it is with the utmost urgency that I draw your attention to the lack of funding being injected into The Giant project. While I believe we are close to realizing the ultimate plan, we still have several years of development before it is ready. It would be folly to cut our expenditure so early in our development.

MAXIS (cont): As you know, early tests on the DG-2 have easily outperformed expectations and we fully anticipate mass producing the Wunderwaffe within the next few years. Work on the matter transferer has, however, come to a standstill. We simply do not have enough Element 115 to continue the experiments. The test subjects have survived teleportation but are currently unresponsive to commands and cannot be controlled. If we are to overcome this obstacle we need to increase the frequency and size of the experiment.

MAXIS (cont): To this end, I suggest we find not only a regular supply of 115, but that we also find a larger conduit to channel the energy. Our operatives in America have informed us that the US have a large supply of the element at the Nevada base, so time is of the essence if we are to stay ahead of them. This cannot be done if you cut the budget; nor can it be done if you insist on pressuring us into action before we are ready. I am of course available for discussion of the matter but in the meantime, I will continue with the work here and try to win this damned war. Signed etc. etc. Doctor Maxis.

[Static.]

**END**

Chapter 11: Expansion

Town Square, Werfen, Salzburg, Austria

Dr. Ludvig Maxis

November 6th, 1940

"Doctor Richtofen is a close friend of mine."

As Doctor Maxis said these words he began to question their validity. For years, he had felt a sense of mutual admiration in his professional relationship with Doctor Richtofen, but ever since their disagreement over the MTD, things began to gradually change. Richtofen was initially sour on the idea of the German government facilitating Group 935's research. After his month-long hiatus and surprise return, however, he has been rather allured by the prospect of weapons research and meeting the German high command. General Lehmkuhl seemed convinced by his affirmation, though Maxis was not.

"Then I am sure the two of you can coordinate control of this new facility."

The two men dressed in heavy coats were being escorted by armed German soldiers through the snow-trodden village. If not for the conversation keeping their minds, the cold would be nearly unbearable.

"Yes, well, perhaps I should delegate control. However, I'm not sure Richtofen could handle such a burden."

"You must loosen your grip in order for Group 935 to grow, Ludvig. Besides, it is not quite time yet for Doktor Richtofen to take control of Der Eisendrache. He is needed in France while we establish a research station. The other Generals have taken quite a liking to his, eh... unique personality."

Maxis grinned, "He has been quite the socialite, recently. I am sure he and your men have gotten on well."

The convoy trudged further through the village towards the gondola station near the mountainside. Beyond the secluded village, all that could be seen at this elevation was the beautiful, snow-capped Alps of the Austrian country, and amidst the mountains connected to the gondola station was Der Eisendrache: 'The Iron Dragon,' a castle constructed in the 14th century that was under the control of the Austrian government and care of the down-wind village until the recent German occupation.

To their left and right were homes built to withstand the snowstorms, a majority of their occupants cozy inside. The stone homes were now plastered with German propaganda, and soldiers forcibly settled inside. The few villagers that stood in the market square only watched silently with a grimace as the convoy passed by.

Maxis looked at each of their faces; Their eyes were fixed on him, as if ready to strike when the soldiers left. General Lehmkuhl took note of Maxis' unease.

"Pay them no mind, Doktor. Soon they will understand our arrival is for their betterment. The castle is quite far from them und heavily fortified. An uprising would not stand a chance against my men und their new ammunition, all thanks to you, Doktor."

"Have the soldiers gotten used to the enhanced rounds? They've been sure to slow their rate of fire to avoid burns, yes?"

"Ja, Doktor Maxis. Training mit the rounds has proven successful. They love them. Watch. Achtung, Müller!"

The German soldier at the front of the escort halted, turning to the General before saluting, hand raised to the sky. "Generaloberst!"

"Auf die Wand feuern!" The general pointed his finger towards the wall of a nearby church building. The soldier who received the orders smiled and raised his loaded MP-40.

Maxis yelled out. "Wait! Halt! Halt! Generaloberst Lehmkuhl, there could be civilians in there. The rounds will easily pierce through-"

"Ja, you are correct. Stein! Peters! Überprüfen Sie... auf Kollateralschäden."

The two addressed soldiers opened the door into the church and scanned for any living beings. There were none in sight.

"Now then, fire!"

The soldier with his MP-40 crouched into a battle stance to hold the weapon steady. He fired two short bursts into the wall before lowering the weapon. The other soldiers in the group, Lehmkuhl, and Maxis approached the impact point, as villagers and other soldiers who heard the gunfire approached.

The stone had been blown apart at each point with such speed and power that the edges of the holes were singed from radiation, all due to the microscopic amounts of Element 115 moulded into each bullet.

"And that is just stone. You should see what your inventions can do against armor plating!"

General Lehmkuhl patted Maxis on the back, directing the attention of the bespectacled soldiers and frustrated Austrian citizens to him.

Maxis hesitantly replied, "Oh, thank you for the demonstration. It's really Doctor Porter you should be thanking: He has perfected the augmentation process."

"I send the man my regards! We should move before the cold kills us. Lasst uns gehen!"

The men reformed their shape around Maxis and Lehmkuhl as they pushed forward towards the gondola station just a few blocks ahead.

"Your men are learning English as instructed, yes?"

"Of course, Doktor! They are slow learners and quite loyal to their Fatherland, however. Why is it that this is necessary, again?"

"When it comes to lab work, I find it is most important that everyone can clearly communicate in a universal language just as we all follow a standard set of metrics. English is an excellent language for communicating research, as I learned in my time studying at Oxford. It is simply a matter of preference and formality. Your men must know in case there is a problem only they can resolve and time for translation is short."

"That is fair, Doktor Maxis. However, I would consider in the future transitioning towards using German if Group 935's relationship with the Reichstag is to truly flourish. There are predictions that German will be the most used language in the world in ten more years."

"I will consider it when the time comes. I wish to make the German people proud, any way that I can."

"Das ist gut zu hören, Doktor Maxis."

Now at the Gondola station, the group entered the cramped platform before the operator closed the doors and sent them up towards the castle. Though it was a small interior, there were windows on all sides to give a view of the breathtaking Austrian mountains. The rising sun was cradled between a set of white-covered mountains in the distance. At a nearer mountain, just below the castle were a set of man-made platforms extended from the rock. On them were metallic structures reaching high into the air. Beneath were tracks leading to a massive door as large as the structure itself.

Lehmkuhl placed his index finger on the glass, pointing to each of the platforms.

"Those are the rocket test sites I mentioned. In 1938, once we found this place, we were hard at work trying to develop rocket technology, from this secluded, high-altitude facility. Tests have halted recently, as we have shifted our focus to weaponry. I am hoping when your scientists are settled in you may return those sites to full operation."

Maxis gazed out upon the platforms, now able to make out the frames of the rockets within the structures. "Remarkable. I would be overjoyed to begin working again with rockets. As a boy I dreamed, one day, that the German people would be the first to reach the Moon."

Lehmkuhl looked at Maxis, somewhat off-put, before returning his gaze to the rocket pads.

"How wonderful that would be, yes. But for now, we should focus on our problems here on Earth."

Now realizing he had made a fool of himself, Maxis returned to his former composure.

"Of course. Those are just the musings of a child. My own daughter has them as well. But I assure you, I am focused on the here and now, Generaloberst."

"That is wunderbar to hear. I am sure you have heard of our man von Braun and his research. I would suggest you contact him for any inquiries and assistance in the future."

"Thank you. Today marks an historic day for not only Group 935 and Germany, but the world at large. I hope Der Eisendrache proves to be as valuable an asset to us as Der Riese. I am thankful that you and the others in the Reichstag received my letter months ago and have agreed to assist Group 935 in expanding its horizons around the world."

"Yes, about your new facilities. I have been meaning to discuss with you a certain matter, privately. When we arrive, I will meet you in your living quarters to discuss when you are ready."

"Absolutely, Generaloberst."

As the gondola came to a stop at the top of the line, it began to rock back and forth due to the momentum before finally settling and the doors opening. The escort fanned out to allow the General and Maxis through. The rocky underbelly of the castle had been converted into a fully-functioning Gondola station with power generators buzzing and sending power throughout the facility. Faintly, above on a scaffolding towards the interior of the castle, Doctor Maxis could hear the distinct choral sound of Wesley Reicha's Requiem, as well as laughing from many different sources, including one cackle that was certainly from Edward Richtofen.

General Lehmkuhl led Maxis up a set of metal stairs towards the source of the sounds. Passing a large beam connected to the generators, they entered a rocky formation that led directly into the castle's undercroft, passing through a metal gate and by a cot against the wall.

"Here is where the Gondola operator sleeps und... ah, there is Doktor Richtofen!"

The medieval design of the undercroft took Maxis' breath away, with the intricate tombs and markings along the walls signifying an era long past. Yet here to take his attention away was Edward Richtofen, wearing a light coat for the warmer temperature of the castle's undercroft, his right foot raised and resting on a wooden chair. To his right, a table with a gramophone playing the contemporary music, and several German men in military uniform toasting the new Group 935 facility.

Now taking note of Lehmkuhl and Maxis' arrival, Richtofen raised both his hands in the air, one holding a glass of champagne, before shaking hands and offering another glass to the General. The two exchanged a joke and a laugh as Maxis soaked in the glorious stone architecture around him. Again, he was pulled away from his wonder by Richtofen, who grabbed his shoulder and turned Maxis towards him.

"Doctor Maxis, you've finally arrived!"

Looking back towards the crowd, then around the room in a strange way, he turned back to Maxis.

Richtofen asked no one in particular, "Where is General Amsel?! Doctor Maxis, you have to see this, it's like looking in a mirror!"

"That's alright, Edward. Where is Doctor Wagner?"

"Oh, yes, my little assistant is helping unload the shipment to the labs. He's probably scurrying around in those little, squeaking boots of his! Oh how I hate those boots... "

"Edward, he is more than your assistant. I vouch for him as a valuable partner. If you believe you should hold any sort of power in Group 935, you should be more amicable to its members."

Edward paused for a moment, his eyes wandering as if listening for something. He winced before refocusing his attention back to the conversation.

"Yes, amicable. That is just what I was being towards these men from the Reichstag. I'll tell you, I expected them to be much more, I suppose I could say, obtuse. But they are quite free-spirited once you get to know them!"

"I can see that. This is a day for celebration, I suppose."

Edward patted Ludvig on the shoulder, "Don't fret, Doctor Maxis, I have not lost sight of what lies ahead for our research. We have a great future in this castle. I hope to make a home here once my work at the front is over with."

Doctor Richtofen grinned, handing Maxis a glass of champagne before raising his own for a toast.

"To improving the human condition!"

Maxis let his guard down, smirking and raising a glass himself.

"To improving the human condition!"

The two men drank from their glasses, before Maxis spoke up.

"How is Samantha taking the move? She must be very upset."

"Ah, your little girl. She's fitting in quite well. Her room is now filled with her belongings; Wagner saw to that while I was mingling. She asks so many questions, just one after the other, yak yak yak yak yak yak! No wonder you let Sophia take care of her all day! For all our sakes, I hope Sam makes some new friends."

"Yes, well, Sophia will not be here for nearly a week as she gathers my belongings. We are visiting Japan to tour the Rising Sun Facility. The Reichstag was able to negotiate full control for Group 935 in exchange for a joint operation with Division 9 at another facility in Europe. The location is yet to be decided, but word is that they are interested in somewhere in Berlin."

"Ah, the Rising Sun Facility. What a wonderful... swamp. Will Division 9's scientists remain active there?"

"Many of its staff will stay behind while others relocate."

"The Japanese are very protective of their work, I'm surprised they would even want to collaborate! Luckily for you, I know Doctor Okitsu very well. Say hallo to him for me!"

Richtofen downed the last of his champagne. "One last thing, Doctor Maxis... Please speak with Lehmkuhl about the Wunderwaffe. If he has any sense, it will see production immediately."

"I will discuss it with him, Edward."

Edward nodded to Maxis before returning to the crowd to further mingle.

Maxis turned to the wall behind him, with an intricate tomb leading up to the ceiling. Though cracked and worn, the stones making up the crevices were deliberately and efficiently aligned to form a beautiful monument to who could only be the King ahead of this castle.

From behind, the bellowing laugh of General Lehmkuhl took Maxis' attention as he wrapped his free arm around Maxis' neck, his other hand with a full glass of champagne.

"Ah-hah! Doktor Maxis, there are plenty of better things to stare at around this castle than a hole in the wall filled with old bones. Perhaps another time we can look at it all like two aging historians at Museumsinsel. But for now, let us head to the living quarters to have our discussion, ja?"

"Of course, lead the way, Generaloberst."

The two men rested their glasses on a nearby table, before departing to a nearby stone archway left of the tomb. As they were nearly gone, Doctor Richtofen called out to the two of them.

"Off to bed, already?"

The crowd began to laugh heartily, one general even spilling his champagne as he leaned over to clutch his chest. After a moment, General Lehmkuhl joined in the laughter as he and the stone-faced Doctor Maxis walked through the archway to a set of stairs, passing crates of ammunition and armor.

Now away from the crowd, Lehmkuhl leaned in towards Maxis, "I'm not sure what he actually meant by that, but by the way he said it, I am sure it was sehr lustig!"

They opened a wooden door leading out into the cold, trudging forward to another set of stairs.

Maxis sighed as he said it, "Yes, he is quite the character. At least you and the others in the Reichstag can find some value in his childishness."

"Ease up, Doktor. War is a dark time for all of us. We could all use a little joy."

"Perhaps. My assistant, Sophia, says I tend to be very... terse when I am frustrated."

"What you need is some time away. Not now, obviously. We need you to steer the ship, so to speak. But someday you should take that pretty Frau and your daughter somewhere not so cold."

"Sophia and I have a purely professional relationship."

At the top of the staircase that hugged a stone wall, they were now in a higher tower with a brick fireplace against the wall and some crates in need of unpacking.

Lehmkuhl smirked, tapping his fingers against Maxis' chest.

"Come now, old boy. You gave her a phone call as soon as we arrived in Austria to check up on her. There is something there, or perhaps I am an old... cold fool."

The two men exited through another doorway to some wooden scaffolding connecting it to the center of the castle where the living quarters had been designated.

"She is beautiful and I enjoy her company, though Samantha does not feel the same way. There is no replacement for her mother, and I know this will always be so."

"Loss must be quite a strain on both of you. My condolences, Herr Doktor. Just give the thought some time. Time heals most scars."

Now they had finally arrived at the living quarters, guarded by a thick titanium door. Lehmkuhl knocked three times on the door, and rubbed his gloved hands together as two armed men let them in.

The entrance hall was a beautiful interior design like that of a quaint cabin on the countryside with a spot of luxurious amenities. Fine art lined the walls and flowers grew in pots on exquisite wooden drawers contrasting the bitterness outside, and the stained glass windows depicted knights in ornate armor.

"What a lovely living space. I am humbled by the craftsmanship of your men."

"Oh, this is none of our work, no. The former villager in charge of caring for the castle is the one who imported this artwork. All except the one at the end of the hall there."

"Oh my."

Near the end of the hall was a large, golden framed painting of a man in red armor wielding a sword and sitting upon a throne. At his side were two wolves.

"A beautiful piece, is it not? Well, it is a recreation of the original hung here by the former owner. Before we arrived he sent the original and several others away, und we have been trying to track them down…"

"Where is the owner? I would love to compliment him myself for this wonderful arrangement."

Lehmkuhl looked off, distant.

"Well, he... is being held in captivity. You must understand, he was very aggressive towards my men when we relinquished the castle, und it would not be safe for him to know what we are doing here. Unfortunately, it had to be this way."

"I... see."

"Speaking of secrecy... I have been meaning to have this discussion with you away from any of your men, because it is for your ears only, for now."

"What is it?"

"After the letter you sent and the results from your tests on the, eh... what was it you called them again?"

"Untoten. Brought back into living from death."

"Ja, ja, very unsettling, that name. We will find something better, later. Anyhow, the prospect of an army of men previously thought lost? That sent ripples throughout the Reichstag. We came to a decision that this project must be pursued further. Much more than those eh…" Lehmkuhl placed his arms to his sides, moving them shortly back and forth, "Those gigantic, metal machines you sent designs for. Or, or that Wunderwaffe. 'Wonder Weapon' is a bit presumptuous, hm?"

"The Wunderwaffe DG-2. In person, Richtofen's invention is very impressive."

"I am sure, Doktor Maxis, but is it right for Germany? It does not seem cost-effective or a definitively powerful device against more than infantry. Perhaps with more tests, it will become more promising. For now, it is much too cumbersome. But this Army of Untoten idea, that may be the key to winning this war!"

"Thank you, Generaloberst."

"But it will not help us in the slightest if the Allies learn of the idea. As you have said before, the Americans have a supply of Element 115 at their base in Nevada. The Japanese have their own at the Rising Sun Facility. There is no doubt that there are more deposits we do not know about. When the Americans decide to end their support from the shadows and join the fight, if we are not careful they will have an army of 'undead' of their own."

"This is true, but how can I help?"

"As you know, this castle, as well as the Rising Sun Facility are now under Group 935 control. But, the Reichstag has set aside three more new facilities."

"Three more new facilities?!"

Maxis raised his voice, partly in excitement, but also in fear as the prospect of more stress began to become apparent.

"Sh, sh... These facilities are to remain secret from anyone whom you cannot trust completely. The first is an Asylum, Wittenau Sanatorium. In exchange for your control of the Rising Sun Facility, Division 9 will be partial owners of this Asylum. It is outside Berlin and already has plenty of living patients to perform testing. Another will be in Siberia, near Tunguska. The Soviets have no idea the amount of 115 present there nor its potential. On the outside it appears to be a dock und a lighthouse along an icy shoreline. Beneath the surface and on the mountainside, however, your men will work."

Ideas and fears began racing and colliding with one another in Maxis' head as he contemplated the additional workload of new facilities.

Lehmkuhl continued, "The last and most secretive facility is in a theater within Berlin. Things must be kept very quiet there, but to the public, the theater appears to be closed and being permanently renovated. From this location, the men in charge at the Reichstag, und the Führer himself will be able to view your progress in unlocking the mind first-hand. As you will be working directly with the Reichstag, we will be funding all of Group 935's research for the foreseeable future."

Maxis rubbed his temples, looking side to side, thinking of the responsibility. "My god... Thank you, Generaloberst. The others at the Reichstag and the Führer have my most humble appreciation."

"It is not a problem, Doktor Maxis. But as I stated, it is imperative that you do not share this with anyone until we have a definitive list of trusted candidates to transfer to these facilities. With such proximity to the Reichstag, the cinema in particular becoming exposed could be disastrous. When you are eventually transferred, you will not be able to bring your daughter, unfortunately. A child is prone to speaking out of school, as they say."

"I understand, but I trust all of my scientists. What about the background checks your men have undertaken?"

"They have been successful in rooting out the unwanted, ja. But reconnaissance and espionage have changed drastically since the Great War. Anyone could be an agent of the enemy. A few of your men have stood out to me as suspicious. Perhaps I am wrong, but I have an eye for these things. Novák, Sauers... as well as others. My point is, do not assume you can trust old friends."

From down the hall, Maxis could hear the pitter-patter of small feet on wood, and came face-to-face with his daughter, Samantha, as she approached him for a hug. The two embraced for a few moments, Lehmkuhl even touched by the exchange.

Lehmkuhl leaned down to speak directly to her, "Samantha... It is very nice to meet you. How old are you now?"

"Six. Daddy missed my birthday yesterday…"

Maxis looked into her eyes, saddened that he could not have been there due to a meeting at Der Riese delaying his arrival.

"I'm sorry, Samantha. I... I promise we will celebrate. You and I... and Sophia... and Edward."

With each name, Samantha's face soured further, "Daddy, Eddie was very angry with me."

"Why is that, honey?"

"I was looking for my Teddy, und I thought I found him in Eddie's room. But he yelled at me and said that was his Teddy and he wouldn't share."

General Lehmkuhl lost his composure, laughing with a wheeze as he decided to leave the room with the new-found information.

"And did you find Teddy?"

"Yes, he was under my bed."

"Good."

"Daddy?"

"Yes, honey?"

Maxis gently took Samantha's hand, walking her to her room.

"Where do dogs come from?"

"Dogs? Well, as puppies, they come from their mother."

"I like puppies."

"Me too, honey."

"Daddy?"

"Yes?"

"Can I have a dog?"

Act II – Descent Into Madness

14 Months Later...

Chapter 12: Faithful Servant

Approaching The Giant ("Der Riese"), near Breslau

Dr. Edward Richtofen

January 11th, 1942

"Und then he said he got her… wait for it... a dog!" Richtofen held his chest, the riotous laughter bellowing out. With his other hand he slapped his own knee, leaning forward then left and right from a combination of glee and the shaking vehicle. The military truck they were in had nearly reached the front gates of Der Riese, marked by the signature uneven gravel road that stretched across Lower Silesia.

Across from Doctor Richtofen was Doctor Wagner, his expression one of emptiness and indifference. This did not stifle Richtofen's jovial mood, however, just as it had not in the five hour ride up to this point.

"But it gets better, if you can believe it! Then, Doctor Maxis said the dog he got for his daughter... was from the Animal Testing Lab!" Richtofen continued to guffaw, muttering as he did, "A lab mutt!"

Richtofen's face was now red with laughter, continuing well past the revelation's worth. Wagner continued to appear unamused, gazing out of the truck bed towards the road barely lit by the sunrise.

Once the cackling subsided, Doctor Wagner spoke up with his rebuttal, "Doctor Richtofen, Samantha has been asking her father for a dog for years. It seems like a very thoughtful gift to me... "

Edward wiped a tear that had formed in his eye. "Oh, Hans, children do not know what they really want! When I was a boy, all I ever wanted was to see my parents again."

Wagner's eyes lit up.

"What a foolish pursuit that would have been! They were dead! Anyhow, I did not get what I wanted, und look at me now! Everything is perfect… "

Hans Wagner again returned his gaze outside, with no further rebuttals.

The truck began to slow as the convoy approached the gates before stopping completely for inspection. During the lull, Richtofen would take an opportunity to pen a diary entry.

"January 11th, 1942

Dear diary,

Construction of the Moon Base, now known as Griffin Station, is nearing completion, as I was informed just last week. Our plans seem to be advancing on schedule, due in large part to the efforts of my old friend, Doctor Schuster. I should ask him how he is doing; He seems quite down in the dumps every time I hear from him. I admire his dedication to our cause, and I only trust him with this task knowing he wants to make the world a better place just as much as I do. I have considered making him the head of the station, but I'm afraid he is not qualified to lead such an operation. He simply does not have the courage to quell a rebellion or to make demands of his underlings. Perhaps he will be heartbroken when I make the announcement, but as a friend, I only hope that he will understand."

Voices began to creep into Edward's mind, gnawing at him to look up from his journal towards Doctor Wagner. Wagner was holding test data from their time together in France, his wretched little hand marking through and scribbling on the sides to make it more "presentable" for Doctor Maxis. Richtofen said nothing, for that would only mean a stern lecture from Maxis and suspicions of Edward's treachery.

"He's Maxis' puppet." "Kill him." "Just a slave to his master." "End his worthless life, Edward."

Edward rubbed his temples and returned his attention to the diary to stow his frustrations. Recently the voices had become far more aggressive, and one loud, violent one in particular had filled his thoughts. Even in sleep, the voices would interrupt Edward's dreams, promising power. Edward was not sure if they could be trusted yet, but the potential that the MPD holds is very, very real, and he only hoped to learn more once the station is complete.

"Doctor Wagner continues to be a thorn in my side. All he ever wants to discuss is his love for Maxis, and I hate it. I hate it so very much. I cannot contact Griffin Station during daylight hours while Wagner skulks around. I have considered stealing his work boots to end the irritating sound that follows him everywhere he goes, but I would rather hear him coming at all times.

Anyhow, today we are joining Doctor Maxis for a very late birthday party for his incessant daughter. I suppose a consolation for my orphanhood is that I did not have Maxis for a father. I brought a gift, as Maxis requested. Whether Samantha should like it or not, he did not specify. More importantly, I am reaching the final stages of the Wunderwaffe DG-2 prototype. Before Maxis leaves for Japan, I hope to suggest its mass-production to him once again. This factory has seen nothing like the DG-2 before."

The convoy had begun moving again towards the interior campus of Der Riese, coming to a halt on the street outside the laboratory buildings. German soldiers stationed at the facility unloaded the truck bed of supplies before assisting Wagner and Richtofen out of the vehicle.

Wagner came to his feet on the concrete below, straightening his lab coat, which Richtofen had forced him to leave on, as they had left the lab in a hurry.

"Finally, we are home."

Richtofen rose to his feet, straightening his own lab coat which had a large, bloody blotch on the chest fresh from the night prior. Carefully, he unloaded a case that held components for his Wunderwaffe DG-2 prototype, which he would assemble here at Der Riese. Carelessly, he also grabbed a box wrapped in bright blue wrapping paper with a poorly-tied bow on top, as Wagner grabbed a similar, more festive box.

"Let's get this over with, Doctor Wagner, so we can return to work."

"Of course, Doctor Richtofen... "

Richtofen led the way in search of Laboratory C5555, in the building across the street. He climbed a staircase, Wagner in tow, up towards the fifth floor. At the end of the hallway was room 5555 and mounted by a nail in the wall was a note stating, "Party inside, do not disturb."

Richtofen straightened himself and dusted off his shoulders before turning the knob to open the door, a smile plastered on his face all the while.

What he revealed was the sterile laboratory space, its tables cleared and adorned with presents and one orange balloon attached to a table's leg. Scattered around the room were about twenty people, many of them in work attire and a few with pointed party hats on their heads. The center table had a small white cake and candles. Leaning over the table facing the wall was Doctor Maxis.

Richtofen and Wagner entered the room, closing the door behind as Maxis, now facing away, called out behind himself bluntly, "You're late!"

Maxis turned around, his expression inflamed and movements swift. He closed a manila folder of documents and set them aside as he looked into Edward's eyes. "Doctor."

Maxis marched forward as Richtofen cautiously moved further into the room, his expression somewhat confused. "... Doctor? Is there a problem?"

Now inches away, Maxis stopped, staring straight at Edward.

"The problem, Edward, lies in your timing. This party was already late when I planned it, but you've continued to set it back further and further."

"Well, as you can see, Doctor Maxis, I have been hard at work... " Richtofen motioned to the blood stains on his lab coat.

"All this time to prepare and you show up dressed like that... Put your uniform in the locker and your gift on the table. I will let Sophia know the party can finally begin now that the last guests have arrived."

"Entschuldigung, Doctor- "

Maxis pushed Richtofen aside before approaching Wagner, outstretching his hand for a handshake.

"Doctor Wagner, how did the ride treat you?"

"It was quite uneventful, I'm afraid. But it is worth it to be here again. It is good to see you, Doctor."

"The feeling is mutual. How was the research in France?"

"Results are promising, Doctor. I will give you the full, annotated report after the party."

"Excellent. Would you care for a drink?"

As the two haughty men mingled, Richtofen fought the urge to lash out, gritting his teeth as he approached the table filled with gifts. He set his gift down before stepping towards the lockers against the back wall, where Doctor Porter was examining his own research, a lopsided party hat attached to a string on his head. Richtofen opened the locker, paying no mind to Porter, and removing his lab coat to replace with another.

Porter did, however, notice Richtofen, as he looked up from his work.

"Ah, Doctor Richtofen. You're just the man whose opinion I need right now."

"Really? Just me?"

"With your Wunderwaffe being such a success, I have been inspired to work on a 115-powered weapon along with Doctor Maxis. We seized designs for the weapon from Division 9, but it lacks a proper power conduit as well as many other requirements for a prototype to be developed. We have considered the use of cold fusion technology, but for a weapon of this size, that seems to be impossible at the moment."

Edward looked over the designs from Japanese scientists sketched into a notebook Porter held. It appeared to be a very portable design, able to be held with only one hand like a handgun. It would fire bursts of plasma that would vaporize anything it came into contact with.

"I wish I could help, I really do. Plasma is not quite my specialty. That will require quite a bit of power, und from quite a small package."

"What about your DG-2? It is meant to be held by one man, is it not?"

Cross, Richtofen shut the locker door and turned to Porter.

"The DG-2 is still a sizable piece of equipment. More like a rifle than a little handgun. It is far more practical, Doctor Porter."

"I'm sure we will find a power solution. Thank you anyways, Doctor."

Edward bowed slightly, rolling his eyes as he looked away and carried his bag of equipment to his seat at the left-hand side of the room. Others simply mingled or looked over their work as they ate veal cut and provided by the campus butcher. It was all they ever had to eat in this concrete hell.

A minute or so passed before there was a knock at the door and Maxis motioned for everyone to get into position near the central table as he turned out the lights. The party now ready, Maxis nodded his head towards Doctor Porter, who called out, "Come in!"

The handle turned and the door inched open, as a small silhouetted figure ambled slowly into the room. A larger figure behind reached out to turn on the light switch, the note that was on the door in their other hand. Young Samantha stood in shock as the gathering of old men in the room shouted, "Surprise!"

Now seven years old, she was initially startled, stumbling backwards towards the young woman behind her, Sophia. Realizing this was the party her father had made for her, however, Samantha's expression turned to joy, her eyes widening and jaw dropping as she looked at the decorations, the cake, and the gifts in her honor. She skipped over to her father, who was now crouching as the two embraced. Richtofen checked his pocket watch: 9:02.

"Daddy, I almost thought I would not have a party this year!"

"I know, Samantha. Things have become very busy around here, but I would never, ever forget your special day."

"When can I open my presents? Can we now?"

"Of course, but once you see what I got for you, you may want to wait to open the rest."

The others in the crowd smiled, happy for the father and his daughter. Richtofen chuckled to himself, placing his face in his hands.

Sophia left the room for a minute, returning with an audio recorder and rolling a large box with holes in the side on a cart. Samantha began to jump up and down, eagerly anticipating the gift from her father.

Sophia placed the recorder on the table, and turned the box around to reveal the mesh cage door, and behind it, a resting German Shepard mix.

Samantha continued to bounce, restless and joyful. Richtofen started to wheeze, attempting to silence himself as he laughed into his hand. Maxis did not notice, but Wagner did, who scolded Richtofen.

Sophia opened the cage, placing a bone on the floor and whistling to the dog inside. The dog opened its eyes, slowly lifted itself up, and skulked towards the bone before sniffing it and laying back down to chew on it.

"Is it a boy or a girl, Daddy?"

"She is a girl."

Maxis motioned to Sophia who began to fiddle with the recording device. Samantha crouched near the dog, petting her ears and running her palm across the fur of her back, and she did not seem to mind.

Maxis kneeled down near them. "Now, you must be very diligent with her, Samantha. Owning a dog is a great responsibility."

"Yes, father. Oh, I love her."

"You must feed her every day, and walk her, and be very careful when you play with her. You know she's going to have puppies?"
Samantha's eyes lit up, as she looked back towards her father in disbelief.

"Really?! Can I keep the puppies too, father?"

"We'll see, Samantha. One step at a time."

Samantha began to rub the dog's belly, who seemed to enjoy the love and attention as it rolled over and stuck its tongue outward.

"I will name her Fluffy."

"Fluffy? That is a beautiful name, honey."

At the nearby table Sophia was tinkering with the device, and finally deactivated it.

Maxis rose back to his feet. "Thank you, Sophia."

"It was my pleasure, Doctor. She is so happy."

Face red with laughter, Richtofen shook his head, attending to the plate of veal on the table.

Maxis knelt down to face Samantha, who was overjoyed with her new companion.

"Would you like to open the rest of your presents now, or would you like to spend some time with Fluffy first?"

"I want to pet Fluffy first. She is so happy when I scratch her like this!"

"That's wonderful, honey. Let me know when you are ready. Daddy needs to attend to some business with Uncle Eddie."

Maxis stood back up and turned around, his eyes now fixed on Richtofen, his expression far more stern.

"Edward. Doctor Wagner told me the two of you made great advancements in your research. Unlocking the secrets of the mind may be key to winning this war, you know."

Richtofen replied as he chewed the meat on his plate, "Yes, you will find that non-living subjects are far more cooperative when being cut open than your undead. Through studying their minds, perhaps we will be able to better understand these zombies…"

"You know how I despise that word, Edward... I will review the results with you after the party. But, quickly, I did want to brief you on something all Group 935 scientists will need to know in the near future. Perhaps you can help the new recruits coming this week to become acquainted."

Maxis led Richtofen towards the corner of the room, where a table along with something far larger was concealed by a green tarp. Maxis unveiled the larger object: It was a boxy computer with an elevated keypad and a round screen at the top that had green back-lighting.

Maxis leaned down to power on the computer, as the screen lit up and began relaying data. The simple screen displayed several lines of machine information followed by a blinking green line to denote where information could be input.

"This is the Datenbediensteter, or Data Servant. The project is nearing completion, and will see that a paperless network of data is established between all of our facilities. You will be able to log in to the Servant using your own set of credentials, input test information, and send messages to other scientists. It is truly remarkable."

At the first screen, Maxis steadily typed out his ID in the system, 'lmaxis'. On the next line, he quickly typed a set of characters that appeared on the screen as a series of asterisks. Richtofen took note of Maxis' keystrokes, inputting into his memory the password: 'hilda32'.

The lines of characters faded away as a new line appeared, reading, 'Hallo Welt!'

Richtofen waited a moment, before sarcastically uttering between chewing, "Wunderbar."

Maxis rolled his eyes, stating, "Much of the functionality is hidden from view for the moment. It is nearly complete and ready for the first file to be input. Doctor Porter and I have tested it minimally, but Doctor Novák is the programmer of the Data Servant. Any concerns or inquiries should go through him."

"Doctor Novák?"

"Yes, I don't know if you've met. His office is two doors away from mine."

Edward remembered Novák, the spook sent by the Illuminati to spy on him, "I may pay him a visit or two. This technology seems very... complicated. Surely it will not completely replace audio logs or the simple written word?"

"This technology is far more secure than either of those forms of recording. In times of war, our security is a matter of life and death. All Group 935 scientists will need to become acquainted with the Data Servant as soon as possible."

"I suppose I will have to try to become accustomed, then. In the meantime, Doctor Maxis, I've nearly completed-"

"If this is about the DG-2-"

"Of course this is about the DG-2!"

"We can discuss this during work hours, through an appointment with Sophia. I don't have all the time in the world."

"Be that as it may, Doctor, this project is worth your time. My prototype is nearly complete, und it seeks to blow our other weapon projects out of the water! Sky high! You will not regret hearing me out."

"Later, Edward."

"Fine, Ludvig, in either case, I must return to my work immediately. I hope I served my time at your party long enough."

"It was not long at all, actually. Samantha hasn't even opened her presents yet."

"Then let's get the opening started! I'm sure she cannot be too busy with the lab mutt. All it does is lie there and drool on the ground!"

Maxis irately motioned to Samantha to approach them, after they had reached the table full of presents.

"Honey, Doctor Richtofen must return to his work. Could you open his present now, dear?"

"Yes daddy…"

Edward pulled the blue box from the table, handing it firmly to Samantha. She pulled the bow off of the box, ripping the paper, before revealing what was inside. She recoiled in horror before attempting to reach inside.

Maxis appeared stunned as Richtofen nodded, his face one of child-like glee and nostalgic memories.

In Samantha's hands was a stuffed, brown monkey about the size of her teddy bear. By the feel of the fur, the skin was clearly that of a real monkey, its face frozen in horror, mouth agape and screaming. Its eyes had been removed and replaced with plastic ones that protruded out in shock. A striped piece of cloth had been cut and re-purposed into a makeshift shirt for the stuffed monkey.

"It's so ugly! I…"

Continuing to smile, Richtofen replied, "You hate it! That's alright, I am sure he will start to grow on you once you give him some time. The little monkey can be your new best friend!"

Samantha could not bear to look the eternally screaming primate in the eyes, and she held it at arms length away from herself as she lowered it back into the box. Maxis was still gobsmacked, and looked to Richtofen as if he held any answers.

Samantha closed the top of the box. "Thank you, Eddie…"

"Bitte! I really should be going... "

Maxis took the box, and placing his hand on Samantha's shoulder, he guided her away, not saying a word to Richtofen. Edward picked up his bag, and without drawing the attention of Doctor Wagner, he slipped out of the door into the hallway.

Free at last, he headed to the stairs, descending to the first floor and outside. He checked his watch again: 9:36. Now would be a good time to read any mail that had accumulated over the past year.

Edward approached another laboratory building, entering through the front and making his way to the mailroom. Reaching into his own box he pulled out a stack of letters. Strangely, however, there was a note on the top. Richtofen headed towards his lab on the second floor, shutting the door and locking it before placing the note down to read it.

"To faithful servant, the seed has been planted, observe and report, Maxis must not know."

Richtofen knew immediately the origin of the note. It seemed the Illuminati believed that Richtofen would still serve them. They created the Data Servant to collect Group 935's research, and Maxis willingly fell right into their trap.

Edward shredded the note, discarding the pieces in a bin. Edward made a vow that he would serve no one any longer. The Illuminati were fools if they believed Richtofen would have a change of heart.

He would not tell Maxis of the system's true purpose. Not for the Order's sake, but for his own personal gain. In his diary, Richtofen penned the password he had remembered from earlier: 'hilda32'. Perhaps the Data Servant could serve Edward's needs as well.

"He hides something from you Edward. Him and his stooges. Maxis. Wagner. Porter. None of them are to be trusted. They have been working against you for years!"

"You've told me this many times, yes."

"You will not understand. Not until it is too late and they have slit your throat, Edward. They are better off dead men."

"The station is nearing completion... I need more time."

"Time you will not have!"

"Please! Stop yelling... I will do as you say, if you just... Soon we will open the gateway, and finally you will be free from your imprisonment."

"And you will Ascend to Agartha!"

"Yes... yes, I know. The Aether's power... the dimensions... I am honored that you have chosen me, my Lord."

Chapter 13: Upon This Rock...

Dr. Richtofen's Office, Griffin Castle, Werfen, Salzburg, Austria

Dr. Edward Richtofen

February 1st, 1942

The ticking of Richtofen's wrist-watch was deafening through the silent office, where he stood lording over the telephone awaiting a call from Doctor Maxis to discuss the Wunderwaffe DG-2. Fifty-two minutes had passed since the time Maxis was scheduled to call. What a waste of time, Edward thought. He had already delayed the grand unveiling of the MPD to his colleagues until an hour after the call with Maxis that seemed not to be coming.

Richtofen pondered for a moment: What could Maxis be doing at this time? No doubt, it had little to do with the research he was so adamant would save Group 935. Nay, it was likely an intimate conversation that spiraled out of control with his little girlfriend, Sophia. Possibly, he was entertaining the little wretch he called a daughter. Even more fruitless, perhaps he was begging the Reichstag for more financial aid. Unlike Edward, Maxis is largely unsuccessful getting those maniac bureaucrats to do what he wants. All they require is a sense of humor and a some personality to bounce their large egos off of. Maxis is far too obtuse and abrasive to be the face of Group 935, and as such, all of its members have suffered the consequences. Soon, however, things will be changing.

While he awaited his phone call in the lonely office space assigned to him at the castle, now referred to as Eagle's Nest, Richtofen reviewed his notes regarding the MPD. Using Groph's prior research and personal literature, Edward was able to pin down the meanings of some of the symbols inscribed onto the stainless base of the pyramid. While many of the phrases remain untranslatable, a common motif in the lettering was the Vril-Ya symbol for "Gateway". As he suspected, the pyramid likely serves as a gateway to another dimension beyond human understanding: The Aether, also known as Agartha in many ancient texts. This realm beyond is unexplored by humanity, and judging by what the voices have told Edward, it holds powers of unimaginable proportions begging to be unlocked.

This unlocking would prove to be Edward's, nay, mankind's greatest undertaking. An immense amount of power must be required to open such a gateway, and for the powers present in the Aether to be fully unlocked, one must create a rift between dimensions. According to a series of journals from disgraced scientists who have pursued this dream, the Earth's core may be the key to opening such a rift.

On a page of his diary, Edward drew out sketches for antenna-like structures, which he dubbed Global Polarization Devices. Such devices, when activated in unison, would reveal the rift to whomever resides within the Aether. If all goes according to Richtofen's plan, it will be him awaiting the rift's opening. Humanity is counting on his success, and they do not even know it.

Step one of the plan, however, must be opening the MPD. Some clues have presented themselves to Edward in the construction on the Moon's surface. Embedded in the soil was an ancient Vril artifact that nearly destroyed the crew's drills. A black, intricately-designed orb, which Edward referred to as an egg, began to levitate into the air after its uncovering. Attempting to view it closer, however, caused it to move away. It always seemed to gravitate towards the circular panel at the front-facing side of the pyramid. If it contacted the concave center of the circle, it would spark and the pyramid would begin to hum.

The men have reported some voice-like sound coming from the egg, not in any known language. Some even postulated that it may be an artificial intelligence designed to assist the Ancients in interfacing with their devices.

All of these plans and theories would have been years down the line if not for Groph's outside research during his time at Group 935. His appointments as the head of Griffin Station and the one to discover how to unlock the MPD are completely justified. If only Edward and the others had seen the truth sooner, perhaps the rift would be open already, and this war would have never started.

Richtofen looked at the phone once more, ensuring that it was still running by placing the receiver to his ear and hearing the tone. Maxis had failed science once again. Richtofen placed the phone back, and raised himself out of his chair. He placed his diary back into the breast pocket of his lab coat, and the documents regarding Griffin Station and Vril inside his filing cabinet. Checking his watch once again, he decided he must arrive at Griffin Station soon for the ceremony to begin.

Walking through the doorway, Richtofen entered the old stone section of the castle's undercroft, passing nearby empty laboratories. Every scientist Richtofen had assigned to work with him at Griffin Castle was now awaiting his arrival on the Moon. Since Maxis had decided to give him control of this facility, only his most loyal colleagues would be chosen to work within Eagle's Nest, as they would correspond with his Moon base. Still, there were provisions in place should Maxis or one of his men pay a visit to the castle. The single MTD on-site was hidden away in a room accessible through one stone entrance that could be closed inconspicuously via a lever. Also, all computer systems corresponding with Griffin Station could be reverted to their original operating systems temporarily during any visitations.

One empty laboratory caught Richtofen's attention, in which one of the Data Servants was still powered on. Previously, Edward had avoided using Maxis' credentials to access the Data Servant, as Doctor Wagner had continued to follow him around since he was assigned by Doctor Maxis. With Wagner sent away to Berlin on an errand, this would prove an opportune time to access the system.

Edward entered the laboratory, typing in 'lmaxis,' pressing the enter key, and then typing 'hilda32' for the password. The top of the screen read, "Willkommen!" Two options presented themselves for selection: Personal Files and Server Mail. Richtofen began by perusing Maxis' personal files, starting from the first day the Data Servant's system was finalized. The very first test file consisted of only text written in German, reading:

"Greetings,

I am Ludvig Maxis, today is 20 January 1942. My daughter has a dog, its name is Fluffy. This is File 1, for storage in the data servant. I trust in its success."

Unsurprisingly, his other personal files were just as worthless. A majority simply cataloged tests using Element 115 and prototype devices Group 935 had been working on that Richtofen already knew about, from Maxis and Porter's Ray Gun development and tests on the undead. What was strange, however, was that a majority of the files were typed completely in German. While German is his first language, Maxis has been quite particular that Group 935 scientists learn English and use it exclusively in their reports. The Reichstag men Edward had spoken to seemed to show distaste for this policy. This all pointed to these files being written to be sent to the Reichstag by Maxis.

A revelation troubled Edward: None of these files even mentioned the Wunderwaffe in any form despite the repeated attempts to have Maxis forward the results to the Reichstag. Just what else has Maxis been lying about?

Richtofen backed out to the home screen, and accessed Maxis' personal mail server. The screen scrawled out a series of message titles and recipient names. He scrolled to the bottom of the list where the first message sent resided. The first few messages were to Doctor Novák regarding problems with the Data Servant to be fixed. Further up was a series of mail to members of the Reichstag, and attached were the files Edward had sifted through. Again, a majority of the mail was innocuous, but a single subject caught Edward's eye near the top of the list: "**REQUESTING FURTHER INFORMATION REGARDING [FAUST]**"

Edward opened the mail, reading the message:

"Doctor Maxis,

Since our recent assignment to [FAUST], my men have assembled the hardware and structures as you've instructed. The projector and screen will function nicely as tools for the experiment, when you are ready, but we need to know when you plan to proceed. In the meantime, we have begun the tests you ordered regarding VRIL. Tests with the experimental VRIL element are promising. Exposing some of the undead you have sent in cryopods to the experimental element has provided unforeseen results. When you arrive in person, we will demonstrate for your viewing. We will continue to update you in the coming weeks.

Signed,

D. T."

The message had been sent a week prior from an unnamed user. Edward was unsure what [FAUST] might be or who D. T. was. Something was being hidden from the rest of Group 935. The mention of Vril confused Richtofen, as like himself, Maxis showed no interest in Groph's work prior. It appears they have stolen his valuable research and are exploiting it without his permission. There were rumors circulating of Vril research in Group 935, but there was never any evidence to prove it. Groph would need to hear this after he is assigned as Station Chief. Knowing Doctor Maxis, however, Richtofen concluded the project would likely go nowhere.

As Richtofen pondered, he heard the beeping of his wireless transmitter. Pulling it from his belt under his coat, he pressed the button on the side and spoke into it.

"This is Eagle's Nest."

"Eagle's Nest, this is Doctor Schuster. The arrangements are ready, Doctor Richtofen. The men await your arrival."

"Ah! Danke, Doctor Schuster. I will be arriving soon. Over und out."

Richtofen placed the transmitter back into its pouch and logged out of the Data Servant. He pressed on towards a stone wall at the back of the undercroft of the castle. He located the lever, and the stone wall opened to reveal a small laboratory with the teleporter at the back of the room. Richtofen ensured the coordinates to Griffin Station's receiving bay were correct, and set the MTD on a timer before stepping onto the large platform within the bell-shaped device. After a few moments, the sliding door closed around Richtofen, and light filled the chamber as he began to feel the heat. Smoke clouded his vision before he came to within the receiving bay. Feeling off-balance for a moment, Edward reoriented himself and looked around the metal bay.

Before him was a small station with multiple white suits hanging from a rack, and a white, spherical helmet with a semitransparent visor. Surrounding Edward in the corners of the room were control panels for the station's machinery and crates of resources stolen from Group 935. Above them on the walls to his left and right were windows giving a perfect view of the Moon's surface.

Edward approached one of the windows to his right. Below his view was a small man-made tunnel with an airlock door that led under the surface towards the location of the MPD. In the distance, a massive excavator drill used to cut through the rock to create the station's many underground tunnels. From this height, Edward could see for miles over the Moon's gray surface, lit only by the sun now above the station.

Richtofen pulled a suit from the station, and began to enter it one leg at a time, zipping it up over his lab coat. As he did so, he could see a majestic view of the Earth through the other side of the receiving bay windows. He caught himself staring at the beautiful, blue and white colors that contrasted the empty blackness surrounding it. Beneath the receiving bay was a massive man-made canyon. Here, he planned to build rockets similar to those researched at Eagle's Nest. Though his ultimate goal was opening the rift between the Aether and Earth in order to reach Agartha, Edward could not help but want to study the Moon and perhaps learn more of the universe's history through exploration.

From behind, Edward could hear the parting of sliding airlock doors as a lone figure walked into the room in the same suit as Edward, with a helmet locked firmly at the neck. The cosmonaut placed his hands behind the helmet, pressing two buttons as the seal came undone, allowing the helmet to be removed and revealing Doctor Schuster's face.

Schuster and Richtofen approached one another, wrapping their arms around each other in brotherly triumph.

"We've done it, Edward. We've achieved the impossible."

"A research station on the Moon. It was no small feat, Baron. But we did it. I am proud to call you a partner in science."

"I am pleased to see you still call me a partner, with that Wagner fellow... "

"Oh, that old spoilsport is little more than an errand boy. I've sent him to Berlin to fetch some equipment. I needed him away before we could unveil the pyramid."

"How much longer will you be able to hide all of this from him at the castle? Surely he will find out sooner or later-"

"You let me worry about him, Doctor Schuster. He is mein problem to deal with. You have enough on your plate working on this station."

"I have enjoyed every moment of my time here. It is marvelous, isn't it?"

"Indeed. Shall we depart? We don't want to keep them waiting any longer."

"Yes, Doctor Richtofen. Take a helmet, and we will arrive via the rover. I believe a grand entrance is in order."

Doctor Schuster replaced his helmet, before approaching a large, four-wheeled vehicle and entering the driver's seat. Edward donned his own helmet, standing near the large doorway leading onto the surface. From within the helmet, he could hear the automated computer system of the station speaking through the suit.

"P.E.S. active. Welcome to Griffin Station. Artificial gravity and life support systems are online."

Richtofen approached a nearby panel, opening the large bay doors to reveal the rocky surface of the Moon. Between the interior of the receiving bay and the vacuum outside was a field of energy that kept oxygen and artificial gravity active within the room, but allowed for larger objects such as the rover to pass through.

Edward entered the passenger seat, and gave a thumbs up to Schuster, who set the vehicle in motion. Immediately upon leaving the bay, all that Richtofen could hear was his own breathing and heart rate as all the sound around him left. The traction and weight of the rover's tires kept it from flying off due to low gravity, and allowed it to traverse the bumpy surface below. Soon, it arrived at a man-made metal platform. Schuster exited the vehicle and pressed a button on the keypad to lower the elevator underground several hundred meters. Once it came to a stop, he activated the artificial gravity and oxygen tanks as a metal door to the outer surface closed. Richtofen could now hear the engine of the rover far clearer as he removed his helmet, placing it on a rack alongside Schuster's.

"This way, Doctor. They are waiting for you."

The two men entered a vast hallway meant for transporting cargo, which led directly to the power and control station. As the large metal doors opened to reveal the room, so too did it reveal a group of around fifty scientists and engineers, who began to cheer and clap as Richtofen arrived. The group separated to clear a path towards the podium, with a banner at its base that read, 'Welcome to Griffin Station.'

Edward chiseled his way through the crowd towards the podium, waving and shaking hands as he passed his exuberant followers. It felt nice to be praised for a change. The podium sat in the center of the cave which he had first arrived on the Moon, and behind it was the MPD, now covered by a tarp as it was hidden away until this grand unveiling.

Richtofen climbed the stairs and approached the microphone at the podium. He paused for a moment as the crowd came together, now silent and awaiting instruction from the man towering over them.

"Gentlemen. We've been betrayed, so terribly betrayed. Betrayed by a man I am sure many of us once looked to for guidance. Doctor Ludvig Maxis was a brilliant man of science, und he had a vision of a world where men like us would improve the human condition. That vision was enough for us to join in his cause, und we devoted our minds, our talents, und our bodies to this man und this vision. We built Group 935."

The crowd was positively mesmerized by this speech, and not a word was spoken between them.

"Unfortunately, Ludvig and many loyal to him have betrayed our faith in Group 935. He sold his soul and ours as well to the greedy barbarians of the Reichstag. He turned our work towards a better tomorrow into a cog in the factory of war. He is foolish to believe such a betrayal is possible without a reaction of rebellion."

Edward pulled the microphone from the stand, walking about the stage as he spoke further.

"Years ago I formed my list of trusted colleagues to join me on this journey. I forged my plan to use what I have found in this cave on this rock floating in the cosmos... to do more than improve the human condition. With what stands before you all, humanity will discover its true purpose. War will end with this discovery, as war is fought over land and resources, a bounty which we will give to all people... This is the prize which humanity has worked its entire existence towards."

Edward motioned towards Doctor Schuster to prepare to remove the tarp on the MPD.

"Gentlemen, for two long years we have toiled here and at Eagle's Nest to build up fortifications. For two long years we have taken equipment and built up our labs. For two long years we have worked under Group 935, believing that Doctor Maxis truly wants to help the world. For two long years we've led a double life. Today, that all ends."

Nodding to Schuster, Richtofen placed his arm outwards to draw attention to the structure behind him. The tarp fell to the ground, revealing the pyramid, its base intricately adorned with symbols and its surface black and spotless, like the open void of space. It stood taller than Richtofen even at the height of the stage.

The once silent crowd began to murmur, shocked and confused by the device.

"I bring to you what this project is all about: What I have worked to keep from my enemy."

From within the group, Doctor Groph shoved the other men aside, moving himself towards the forefront, closest to the MPD. He asked Richtofen, not averting his gaze from the pyramid, "What is it, Doctor Richtofen?! It looks alien."

"It is an ancient Vril machine. And you, Doctor Groph, are now the lead scientist here at Griffin Station."

Members of the crowd began to applaud, some patting Groph on the back, his eyes still locked on the perfectly flat face of the pyramid. To the side of the stage, Doctor Schuster seemed shocked, and somewhat hurt.

Richtofen pointed towards Groph, saying "You will be the one to discover how it works."

Groph came close, nearly touching its surface as Schuster motioned him not to. Groph spoke up, "We first must discover what it does."

"Nein, Doctor Groph. I know what it does. It is a direct connection to another dimension."

Again the crowd murmured loudly, unsure what to make of this revelation. A scientist in the crowd yelled out, "Preposterous!"

Richtofen responded, microphone still in hand, "No more preposterous than teleporting you all to the Moon and building Griffin Station, is it?"

Groph finally averted his gaze, now looking up to Richtofen.

"I suppose not. How do you know what it does?"

"I found many interesting Vril artifacts here. I have decoded some of their language. All signs point to this device being a stable gateway to the Aether."

Through the loud quarreling of the men, Schuster spoke directly to Richtofen.

"Doctor Richtofen, I am aware of a project being run by Doctor Maxis at Der Riese concerning Vril."

"As am I. I am going back to my post at Group 935 to continue the charade. I will be finding out just how much information Doctor Maxis has on Vril. Once the machine is operational, I will enact my plan and return. Gentlemen, let the games begin."

The scientists and engineers cheered and clapped, letting their love of the Doctor and his discovery be known. But even louder than this admiration, came the voices again. Amidst the speaking was the sound of agonizing screaming.

"Remember your place Edward. You serve our bidding, and our bidding only. Do not let your own emotions cloud your true purpose. You are our vessel! OUR PUPPET, EDWARD!"

"SHHHH! The voices are so loud!"

The others, besides Schuster, did not seem to take notice of Richtofen's pain in their celebration.

Schuster helped Richtofen down the steps, placing his hands on his shoulders.

"What's wrong, Edward? Are you all right?"

Edward spoke softly, his voice shaky as well as his body.

"What have we... what have we done..."

Chapter 14: Little Resistance

Orani, Bataan, Philippines

Pvt. Peter McCain

April 13th, 1942

'For every evil act done upon one man by another, there are three acts of good being done elsewhere. No matter the depths man may go to in order to cause harm, there is an inherent love and compassion lodged in his soul. No matter what you see, and no matter what you do, understand that evil is not a part of the human spirit; It is a disease that must be fought at every turn.'

The last written words of Peter's father tumbled around his head, repeating and scrambling until they lost their meaning and gained a whole new one. No matter how much good one man can do, there will always be men who are cruel. War will always exist as long as there is evil, and evil thrives on war.

With each passing, distracting thought, Peter could not help but repeat in his head these last words his father wrote before Peter joined the Marines. As a boy, his father shared stories with Peter about the Great War. He told him about his plucky, optimistic attitude when he first enlisted, and the rush of charging into the unknown. He told him about the pain, the sorrow, and the loss. He saw his new-found friends blasted into oblivion, impaled by bayonets, and suffocated by toxic gas. He left the war jaded to humanity, set in his belief that man is inherently evil. He took this aggression and hatred and projected it on his devoted wife and son. He eventually repented years later, not expecting their forgiveness.

All this to say, Peter's father's words could not numb the pain of seeing men shot, disemboweled, and beheaded, left to rot in the dirt or in trenches of their own filth. Every half mile was another ten dead men, with faces just as unique as their fates. Peter McCain could see them all. He could hear the cries of pain in the distance, soiling the beautiful tropical landscape. He had never felt so hopeless and alone, despite the thousands of American and Filipino men around him. There was nothing to do but walk, hungry, thirsty, and afraid. The weak who slowed or toppled from the heat or exhaustion joined the dead at the wayside.

At his side was Private Wesley Johnson, a man almost too short to enlist, immature and afraid of his own shadow. At camp the two had shared playful jabs with one another, sharing the same bunk and training together. What he had been reduced to shook Peter's character. Johnson stood at the center of the marching crowd, which was about six men wide. He slouched, his eyes dead and lips dry, being pushed forward only by the sun-burnt and exhausted men behind him. In a raspy, beaten voice he spoke softly, "I can't go any further Peter. I can't. There's nothin' left in me..."

"Don't talk like that. We'll get through this, buddy."

"I can't... We just keep passing water. It hurts..."

To their left, they could see a small pool of muck-covered water.

"It hurts to, what… Walk?"

"Speak."

"We don't need to be doing much of that anyway."

"You of all people, Peter..."

In a hushed voice behind them, their Corporal spoke up, "If you slow us down any more, we are all going to die!"

Peter turned his head, glaring into his Corporal's eyes.

"Shut the fuck up, none of us are going to die!"

The Corporal's eyes widened and brow raised, "Excuse me, Private?"

"You heard me. We are on the same side. Let's all just calm down."

A Japanese soldier passed by the edge of the crowd, faster than Peter or his brothers, gazing upon each man as they struggled to keep upright. All were silent and gazed forward, as to not make any contact with the soldier's eyes. He slowed his pace to peer at the man immediately in front of McCain, looking into the unflinching Marine's soul before backhanding him, sending his helmet flying into Peter's face, bloodying his nose. The soldier who was hit continued to march forward, attempting to appear unfazed as the Japanese trooper cackled to himself and took a canteen from his own belt to drink. Water droplets streamed across his mustache and onto his uniform as some men could not help but watch cautiously.

Wesley was especially allured by the canteen, not averting his watch from the moment the cap came unscrewed to the time it returned.

"I'd kill him for that water."

"Don't talk stupid, Wesley."

"I'm dying, Pete, I have the right to be stupid."

"Stop that."

"I'm gonna get that water, one way or another."

"Don't do anything. Promise me you won't. Just... I'll try to get it."

"How?"

"I'll ask him."

"He'll kill you."

"Just let me try."

Peter stepped out of line, breathing in and out slowly to prepare himself, "Sir, do you speak English?"

Bewildered, the soldier turned around, furious.

Pointing to the water at his side, Peter said, "My friend, he needs that-"

The soldier slammed the butt of his rifle into Peter's face, damaging his already bloody nose and sending him to the ground.

"Bakku! Buta!"

The pain in his head after hitting the ground clouded his vision, and only after a moment did he see the end of the bayoneted rifle inches away from his face. The soldier then proceeded to deliver a swift kick in the ribs and place a boot to his ankle while he laid in agony, the crowd continuing at the same pace as before. Wesley had tried to exit the group to help him but was pushed forward by the other prisoners of war.

In a fury, the soldier put the rifle even closer to his eyes, prepared to pull the trigger. A Japanese voice called out through the sound of horseshoes clomping through dirt.

"Sorede jūbundesu!"

A horse came into Peter's view just above his head, whinnying as its rider stepped down and pulled the rifle from the soldier's hands. Though he could not understand them, the rider was clearly frustrated, and the two were in heated discourse. The rider, with the cap of an officer, had won the debate, pushing the rifle into the soldier's chest and sending him ahead with the wave of onlooking men. The significantly older officer barked an order in English to Peter.

"Up!"

Peter mustered up the strength to stand back up, his ankle twisted from the violent attack. The old officer returned to his horse, pointing to the marchers, the closest now being a platoon of Filipino troops. Peter obliged without question, returning to the ranks of the marchers.

The officer sat tall atop the white horse, his chest adorned with medals and a blade sheathed on his belt.

Peter limped on, managing to keep pace with the others. Fearing backlash if he were to speak up again, but indebted to this elder officer on horseback, he could not help but try to thank his savior.

"So, you speak English?"

A Filipino soldier next to Peter glared at him, to which Peter added, "Not you, him."

The officer atop the horse looked down, confused by Peter's relentless persona.

Peter continued, "Either way, thank you, but my friend up there... He needs water. I think we all do, but he won't make it much further."

The officer gazed ahead, pretending initially to ignore his words, but looking down and shutting his eyes as the herd passed another corpse, its head resting on a stump, eyes wide open in a state of shock.

"We will stop for water shortly. My underling's response was... unnecessary. But, do not step out of line again."

"Yeah, I understand. Thanks."

"Do not thank me. I believe in second chances, but no more than that. You are the Emperor's prisoner, and you will follow our orders without delay. That is true for all of you."

Peter continued silently for a few moments, the pain in his ankle palpable, before speaking up once again.

"This pain is killing me. He really did a number on me."

The officer looked down on Peter, both angry and puzzled.

"Are you a fool? Or do you have a death-wish, American?"

"A little of both, I guess."

"How can you find humor on this day?"

"It's how I survive."

The officer looked away, solemnly, before sharing his thoughts with Peter, "I have not found time to laugh since before my service in Nanjing. These young men... they see those not born under the flag of the Empire as lesser. There was a time when the young did not perpetuate this view of self-righteousness; When the young were the ones trying to bring peace and prosperity to our great nation."

"They're your men, can't you stop them?"

The officer did not respond for a moment, shaking his head.

"It is not my place. The Emperor has ordered that we show no mercy to an enemy that would surrender rather than die."

"And what's your opinion?"

He paused, sorrowful, "I was raised to believe there is no dishonor in living to fight another day. The Emperor holds a different opinion."

"I mean, if you disagree, you don't have to-"

The rider unsheathed his sword, displaying it close to Peter's neck from atop the horse, shouting, "Enough talk!"

Peter looked into the stainless, reflective blade at his own wide-eyed face, and replied quietly.

"Okay..."

The Officer re-sheathed his blade, saying, "You are in no place to speak ill of the Emperor."

"I mean no disrespect to... whomever. You just seem less... zealous, I guess is the word. Maybe you could ask the Emperor to make a change?"

"How does one man hold so many ridiculous ideas?"

"You seem to be respected by all of your men. Maybe if you spoke up-"

"They respect me, as should you, because I was once the Emperor's personal envoy. I, like my ancestors, have trained in the Samurai code. Few in our Empire today remember these teachings. Even fewer dedicate their lives to them. My father, I, and my son... we are bound by our heritage to serve the Emperor, unquestioning."

"What if, and please don't pull out the sword again, the Emperor is wrong?"

He paused, searching for meaning in his thoughts.

"Times are changing, and I fear my son will be the last Samurai in all of Japan. It seems our family and our traditions are being forgotten by the Emperor… "

Peter stayed silent. He let the aged Samurai meditate for a moment.

"I have been witness to the cruel injustice I see before me many times before today. I have failed my ancestors by remaining silent... These young men serving under me... they do not truly respect me. They believe my age means I am unworthy of battle."

Ahead of them was the sound of a Japanese soldier shouting at someone from the caravan.

"You've got to keep them in line, like you're keeping me in line. Maybe, also, you could stop a little early for some water?"

The Samurai looked down to Peter, eyebrow raised, before displaying a mere hint of a grin.

"I will see to that. The principles of Bushidō do not die with me and my son. Remember my name, American: Saburō Masaki."

Saburō took hold of the reins and his horse galloped towards the commotion, leaving a trail of dust and trampled grass.

Peter took a moment to breathe, assured he may have saved the lives of many of his comrades, but reeling from the attempts at his own life. He began to feel sick, and somewhat guilty he could do nothing for those who had already fallen. Their convoy was also only one of many on the trail on its way from Bataan.

A whisper from behind Peter said, "Hey!"

Peter turned, "Hm? Oh, you're welcome."

The Filipino man who had whispered to him tapped his comrade on the shoulder, and the two switched positions to put him closer to Peter.

He reached into the breast pocket on his uniform, removing a few pieces of paper. Peter was confused about how he was able to hold onto this paper as each of them had been searched and everything removed from their pockets. Peter saw a man shot dead because he would not give up the letter from his wife.

Peter whispered, "Where did you get that?"

The Filipino soldier put his finger to his lips, checking behind the convoy and ahead to ensure no Japanese soldiers were close enough to hear.

"While you were on the ground, I took them from the horse's saddle."

He unfolded the papers close to his chest and low so they would not be seen. The Filipino man's comrades also did not make it obvious they were listening in, as to not draw suspicions.

The paper was entirely in Japanese writing, completely unreadable to Peter.

"What's so important about this you had to swipe it? You know you could have been shot doing that?!"

"I know little Japanese. There are plans for attack in letters to the officer. It has the island attack strategy in the Pacific. If your government has these plans, they will have the upper hand."

"Shit... this could change the course of the war. Well, did you find a gun on that horse too?"

The Filipino man thought for a moment, "No, no weapon."

"How exactly are we going to get this to them when we have nothing to work with?"

The Filipino man looked at the faces of his friends, and seeing that they also seemed unsure how to approach the situation, he replied.

"We must fight back when we arrive at the train station."

"We'll be outgunned and outnumbered there."

"It is our only chance to bring this back."

"If we start an uprising, they will not hesitate to kill all of us. There's no chance that would work."

They both stood silent, Peter thinking over the situation. He looked to Saburō, far up ahead, lording over one of his men ahead of him, watching his every move. Peter continued, "But, if we can escape quietly, no one has to die."

"What is your plan?"

"Plan... yeah, the plan is I distract Saburō, somehow, and draw his men away. We then sneak towards one of those personnel trucks, assuming we can find the keys. We take that out to the nearby airfield, and fly the plane to Corregidor where the military base should still be."

"This plan is... suicide."

"What's your name?"

"Francisco. Call me Isko."

"Well, Isko, this plan's better than everyone dying. If we bring these plans home, maybe we can save everyone here."

To the wayside was a corpse stabbed multiple times in the neck and chest, facial expression blank as it bled into a nearby ravine.

"Almost everyone..."

Chapter 15: Hard Landing

San Fernando, Pampanga, Philippines

Pvt. Peter McCain

April 16th, 1942

Nearly everyone in Peter's platoon that had survived the march now knew Peter's plan. They were all gathered together, tired and afraid, as men before them were herded onto rail cars to be sent to Japanese prison camps. Thankfully, the generous officer, Saburō Masaki, had given the soldiers enough sustenance to stage their plan.

To Peter's left were Isko, the Filipino gunner who acquired the documents in the first place, and Hilario, a technician from Isko's squad with a knack for flying and operating military equipment. To his right was Private Wesley Johnson, anxious after hearing Peter's suicidal proposition.

"You really think this is going to work?"

"My last plan worked, didn't it? Trust me, this is our only shot at getting these plans out of here. And once we are back with American forces, they will come find you guys."

"Three men against the whole fuckin' IJA?"

"If our plan goes smoothly, they won't even notice we've left."

"If?"

"Yeah, if. I can't see the future, but we have no other choice. Don't worry about me. I've got Isko and his buddy Hilario. They say he's the best pilot on this island, and with a name like Hilario, I'm sure we'll be well entertained."

Ahead at the train station, a man in high-ranking officer fatigues sat atop his horse, conversing with Saburō. The officer was guiding some men from the march into a line towards the train car furthest in the back, while a majority stayed in the straight path towards the front-most car. The men the officer chose to send to the rear car seemed almost random, and while the front cars were packed tightly, shoulder-to-shoulder, the rear car was sparse and open for the few men on-board. Unlike the other gray cars, it was painted a dark shade of red, and the side marked with more Japanese symbols than the others. The numbers '731' were painted on the door.

Peter could see Wesley was nervous and unsure of himself, his hands clenched and eyes blinking rapidly.

Peter leaned in, "Hey, stop worrying about me. I can handle myself. You know that better than anyone."

"Oh, please, worried about you? I'm just worried how the Corporal is going to take it when you actually pull this off. He's gonna flip."

Ahead in the line, the officer atop the horse was barking orders at an American being sent to the rear car who was begging to be sent with the others.

"Silence!"

The American begged, "Please! They'll kill me, you're killing me!"

The officer motioned towards two Japanese foot soldiers to force the American into the rail car. They grabbed his arms and wrestled with him to stay calm.

"They're gonna tear us apart! You can't do this!"

He was now on the ground, as one of the soldiers held him down with a boot to his back, the other took hold of his forearm, and yanked it backwards, breaking bone. The American's head was in the dirt, an agonized expression facing Peter's group. He recognized him now: First Lieutenant Gentiles. They had never seen a man so stoic and respected so reduced. The two soldiers dragged Gentiles towards the train, tossing him into the car where he was attended to by the other Americans on board, his eyes red and spirit destroyed.

Nearby the officer who gave the orders, sat Saburō atop his horse, eyes shut and face to the ground. He rode the horse, trotting towards his previous position in the line near Pete''s squad, ashamed and silent.

Peter whispered, "They won't get away with this, Saburō."

Saburō chose to remain silent.

Peter continued, "I know this isn't what you want, but you have the power to do something."

Calmly, Saburō replied, "Unfortunately, I cannot."

Peter raised his index finger, pointing towards a Japanese soldier to his rear, "That guy, that guy behind us? He was smacking around one of us. Even though you ordered them not to."

Saburō was visibly incensed, and meditated for a moment to calm himself.

"For once American, stow your tongue."

Saburō looked to the group of young soldiers watching over the prisoners in the back, then to the officer and the gathering of other soldiers ahead. He whistled to the soldiers in the back, motioning them towards him, as he rode his horse nearer to the front. He rallied a majority of his men towards the other officer, and raised his voice as he began speaking to them. The line towards the train had stopped, and the other officer seemed annoyed. One Japanese soldier was ordered to stay behind to ensure there was no trouble.

Wesley put the back of his hand to Peter's chest as he was preparing himself to run.

"Good luck, Pete. See you on the other side."

The single Japanese soldier stood facing forward where Peter, Isko, and Hilario were, before having his attention drawn towards a Filipino man in the back asking in Japanese what was happening. With him far enough away, Isko barked in a hushed tone, "Now!"

Isko, Hilario, and Peter darted out of line, the crowd filling in the gap as they departed. They ran through dirt onto concrete before meeting the wall of the station, away from the view of the Japanese.

Out of breath, Peter took a moment to rest. "Holy... shit... that... worked!"

Isko leaned on the wall, positioning himself towards the edge to look out on the rest of the station. There was a building that the tracks went through with an open door that was spacious enough to hold plenty of vehicles.

"We're not through yet! Hilario, see that building?"

Hilario joined him at the edge.

"I see. It could have weapons, armored vehicles, everything we need."

Peter now crouched alongside them.

"I thought the idea was to get out of here quietly?"

Isko replied, "That is ideal. But we should prepare for the worst. If we are caught, we need protection."

Peter interjected, "That is, if Hilario can operate whatever we find in there… "

"Of course I can." Hilario stood up, ensuring he saw no one surrounding the large, open doorway, and sprinted with Isko and Peter in tow. Now crouched, they turned the corner into the spacious building, the size of a large barn.

The walls were mounted with vehicle parts and there was a massive crate filled with ammunition boxes straight from the factory. Around the edges were rows of tanks, and on the tracks in the center was a vehicle that looked like a tank, but it sat firmly attached to the rails.

The trio moved inside the dimly lit building, the majority of light coming from the open doors and a single window at the highest point on the wall.

Hilario approached the tank nearest to the door, being sure he saw no one inside the building. He laid his hand upon its dark green finish, the armor completely unscathed. He raised himself up on top, chuckling to himself.

Isko spoke quietly to him, "A tank escape is not an option. We need something fast to get to the airfield before they notice we've left."

Peter looked around the room, then to Isko.

"These are all tanks! Nothing with tires by the looks of it."

Hilario jumped down, walking towards the vehicle on the track.

"Not all tanks."

By all accounts, the vehicle looked like a tank, with treads, thick armor, and a hatch at the top for the crew.

Isko approached it, ducking his head underneath to see it attached to the tracks. "What is it, Hilario?"

"So-Ki armored car. Not many made. Used for reconnaissance and armored transport. It has no weapons, but can move, I believe, near seventy kilometers per hour while on track."

Peter climbed atop the railroad car, looking inside the hatch at the spacious interior. "Can you get it moving?"

Hilario replied, "Of course I can."

Peter looked at Isko, "I like this one's attitude, Izzy. He's a keeper."

Isko grinned before patting Hilario on the back.

"Let us get moving. We won't have much time soon. Hilario, get acquainted with it. Peter and I will find weapons."

Hilario located the hatch to enter the So-Ki as Peter and Isko approached the crate filled with ammunition. Inside were a set of pristine Nambu sidearms as well as a gun the pair had not seen before. The new Japanese weapon was roughly the size of a Thompson, with some similar components.

Peter muttered under his breath, "Looks like the Tojos have submachine guns now."

"It may be useful. Take a Nambu for Hilario with magazines and what-"

Isko stopped speaking as the sound of boot steps on concrete grew louder. The duo whipped their heads back to a lone Japanese mechanic, unarmed and frightened of the armed prisoners.

He yelled out, "Tasukete!"

Peter dropped the gun, and bolted towards him, tackling him to the ground as he tried to run. He wrapped his arms around the man, holding him tight as Isko rushed to shut the large doors on either side of the building, keeping them shut with a pipe. Peter held down on the man's neck as hard as he could until he stopped struggling. Peter let him go, adrenaline pumping, before feeling the man's chest for a heartbeat. He was alive, but unconscious.

Peter rose to his feet, the room now much darker as the doors were closed to the sunny outdoors, with only the single window's light shining onto the tank in the middle of the room. There was a loud banging and shouting from Japanese soldiers outside, attempting to enter the building.

Peter yelled, "Shit!"

Peter sprinted to the So-Ki which Hilario had managed to get running. Isko was now with them, the weapons loaded on board. Peter entered the car from the back, grabbing the roof then swinging himself in. It was much louder on the inside than on the outside. There was not any wasted space around the interior walls, which were covered in connective wires and components for the engine and control system. There was only a single seat, now occupied by Hilario. The view port at the front of the vehicle was so minuscule, Peter could not properly view the front facing action.

Peter shouted, "What's Isko doing?!"

"Unbarring the doors," Isko replied, "You will want to hold on to something!"

Peter grabbed a hold of the Japanese submachine gun with one hand, while holding onto a hand grip in the ceiling. The banging from the rear doors of the building was getting louder before Isko finally pulled the door shut behind him.

Isko shouted, "Go, Hilario! Go!"

The vehicle lurched forward, nearly knocking Peter and Isko to the ground as it impacted the wooden doors to the building, breathing in sunlight through the tiny viewports.

Through the engine's gaining intensity, yelling from the Japanese could be heard. Following this came the pinging of small-arms fire on the outer armor of the tank. As it picked up speed, the number of bullets depreciated to nothing. For a moment, there was peace and tranquility in the deafening interior.

It was short-lived, as a hail of bullets pinged off the left side of the vehicle, leaving impressions in the metal near the viewport.

Hilario jerked his body to a port on the left side, informing the others.

"There is a car! Two men, one driving! They are trying to hit the engine through the viewports!"

Isko took Peter's shoulder, directing him to the hatch at the top of the vehicle, "Wait for a gap in their fire!"

Peter readied himself, locating the handle for the upper hatch, and ensuring his weapon was ready to be fired. As a hail of bullets pinged off the treads and abruptly ended, Peter shoved the hatch aside, raising himself up into the direct sunlight on the tropical landscape. The station was directly ahead, but more pressing was the re-purposed civilian car, with a passenger reloading the same submachine gun Peter was wielding. The driver called out to his passenger, alerting him to Peter's impending attack.

Peter laid the barrel on the hatch's rim, took aim, and held the trigger. The kickback from the foreign weapon shifted its barrel to the side, which unintentionally increased its effectiveness in throwing bullets in a wide arc. Several whizzed past the truck, until one shattered the windshield and several others hit the passenger, who dropped his weapon and keeled over. The driver panicked, now blood soaked and cut by glass, shifting the wheel swiftly causing the car that was going at top speed to spin out of control, flipping on its side.

Peter lifted the weapon into the air, shouting as he looked back, "Ooh-rah! Hell yeah!"

He felt a tugging at his pants from inside the car. "What? What is-"

Peter shifted focus to the track ahead and saw a Japanese Zero whizzing directly towards them. He dropped like rock inside, heavy machine gun rounds sending dirt flying into the cabin from outside, two bullets even piercing the hull and directly impacting a fuel valve, spurting gasoline onto every surface.

Peter exclaimed, "Fuck!"

The engine screeched and hissed as Hilario attempted to slow the vehicle, now within range of the airfield.

Hilario shouted over the roaring engine, "When we stop, we run to the nearest hangar!"

Peter nodded to red-faced Hilario, then to Isko, his clothes drenched in gasoline. Peter hoped there would be no open flames to ignite the trio as they tried to escape.

The speeding armored car slowed continuously, eventually derailing from the chaotic halt, and veering into a row of transport trucks parked outside a hangar bay.

Isko wasted no time in pushing open the hatch and assisting the dazed Peter and Hilario from the crashed vehicle. Rising to his feet, Peter felt the sun nuzzling his skin and heard the sound of a boisterous, irritating siren. The enemy would be coming for them, soon.

Isko held his Nambu in his right hand, using his left to shield his eyes from the sun and see in the distance, "Foot soldiers on the tracks! They are following the rails."

Hilario had opened a door into the nearby hangar bay, motioning that it was clear to enter.

Peter grabbed Isko by the shoulder, "Isko, let's go!"

Isko stood firm, "They will block our escape. We will be cornered inside the hangar."

Peter tugged at Isko's sleeve, "We're pretty well fucked out here too! Now come on!"

Isko stood in place, looking around the corner of the crashed car to see the men running down the rail line.

"There won't be time. I will take one of these trucks, and they will believe you two are in the back."

Isko approached the driver side of one of the trucks, opening the door and pulling open a compartment beneath the steering wheel, revealing the innards of the vehicle.

"Once I start the vehicle, you two start the plane and leave, fast!"

Hilario took Isko by the shoulder, shoving him into the side of the car, "That is not happening!"

Peter approached them, "What about me? I can stay behind, divert their attention. I'll find some other plane."

"No. Peter McCain, you will return home. You are a fighter, and you will help stop this war. You have a daughter. I have no children."

Isko took the stolen documents from inside his uniform and shoved them into Peter's chest, returning to the truck. Peter was taken aback by the mention of his daughter. He had only mentioned her in passing conversation during the march, and only now did he realize the respect Isko had for him in choosing him for this mission.

Isko continued, "You care for your comrades and for your family. You and Hilario must leave this place."

Hilario begged with him, "Please, let me stay behind. You can go."

"You must fly the plane. Go home... tell mama I love her."

Hilario, normally stoic, was nearly in tears, "Mahal kita kuya… "

Isko pulled Hilario close, "You too, brother. Now go, hurry!"

Isko had managed to start the engine of the truck, enter the driver's seat, and hit the gas, heading towards the soldiers who were running directly towards them.

Hilario and Peter ran for the hangar, precious cargo now in possession, and as they shut the door, the sound of gunshots and the truck now turning another direction could be heard.

Within the lit hangar bay was an array of small attack fighters and bombers. The plane Hilario had set his sights on was near the center, a twin-engine light bomber. From what Peter could remember in his training, the plane resembled the bombers designated by the Navy as "Lily".

They wasted no time walking up the ramp of the plane. Hilario located the cockpit, strapping himself in and fiddling with controls.

He barked orders, "You will take the front gunner position. If any of them are waiting outside, give them Hell."

Lights began to spring to life throughout the interior, where Peter was assessing the machine gun mounted at the nose of the plane, surrounded by a thick set of glass panes to look out of the front of the plane.

The propellers of the plane began to spin, and the plane was in motion towards the front gate of the hangar, where it came to a stop.

Hilario shouted, "Peter, get the doors open! We will make my brother proud!"

Peter took to the ramp, sprinting towards the massive doorway, pushing with all his strength on the left door. The sunlight illuminated the gray bomber, armor painted with the Japanese Empire's flag. Peter then took to the right door, pushing it open enough to reveal the runway to Hilario. There were no soldiers to be seen.

He bolted up the ramp of the plane, which Hilario had set in motion before Peter could arrive at the turret. Now fully exposed, Hilario turned the plane's direction right, away from San Fernando towards Corregidor.

Peter shouted back from the gunner position, "Do you know the way there?"

Hilario chuckled, "Of course I do!"

"I don't know why I even ask," Peter muttered to himself.

The plane began to pick up speed on the runway, but had attracted the attention of soldiers laying dormant near the other hangar bays. Men began to run out, unable to keep pace with the aircraft, as two transport trucks parked near the end of the runway, a dozen Japanese men exiting and pointing their rifles to the rogue plane.

In response, Peter took aim with the turret, firing at the stationary targets. Due to the unexpected gunfire, the soldiers at the trucks began to scatter, firing back as they did so, bullets bouncing off of the wings and hull of the armored plane before one bullet impacted the glass in front of Peter's chest. It had luckily been thick enough to stop it from penetrating. Peter did not cease fire, however, as the nose began to rise into the air. The sudden shift in altitude sent Peter tumbling backwards.

Hilario yelled, "You may hold on to something!"

"Yeah..." Peter muttered, tending to his arm that had banged against the wall.

Peter grabbed a hold of a ladder rung leading up to the cockpit, using the other hand to grip his chest as he grew sick.

The plane eventually leveled out, allowing Peter to traverse the plane on his wobbly legs. "I feel ill… "

Hilario replied, "No worries, it will not be long. The Ki-48 is a very fast bomber."

"I can tell... I'm sorry about your brother. He's a hero."

"Do not be sorry. Be a better man. My brother came to respect you in the three days we have known you. I mostly found you unbearable."

"A lot of people do. If I'm sorry about anything, it would probably be that."

"In any case, Francisco Reyes will live on in our memory."

Peter took a seat, allowing Hilario time to mourn. To take his mind away from the altitude sickness, he took a look at the documents stolen from Saburō. They were folded and crumpled as they were shoved in pockets and passed on during inspections in the march from Bataan. The original document shown to him by Isko regarding attack plans was at the top, and only now with time could he assess the crucial nature of this information. Though the writing was in Japanese, the letter to Saburō came attached with a detailed map of the Pacific with areas marked for varied levels of attack.

The next in the pile was, surprisingly, a letter written in English. The intricate cursive handwriting was nigh-impossible to read with the shaking of the plane, but the letter was written to Saburō and mentioned practicing English writing for a mission. The rest was too crumpled or smeared, but at the bottom, the letter was marked by its writer, Takeo Masaki. This must be the son Saburō mentioned whom he trained as a Samurai. Saburō would never know what his actions had done for the greater good today.

The last document was completely in Japanese, but was adorned with a plethora of seals, and was typed on a typewriter. The seals were unknown to Peter, but two in particular caught his eye as they contained numbers. The two symbols were circular and highly intricate, with one simply having a large number 9, and the other the numbers 9-3-5.

Peter was shaken from his concentration at the sound of bullets whizzing past the plane, coming from the rear.

"Zeros! Get on the rear gun!"

Peter jolted up, pressing his hand on both sides of the plane to keep balanced as he made his way to the rear gun, the same type as that on the front. Hilario began to dip the plane downward to dodge the now-visible twin Japanese Zeros, which were firing their guns at the wings of the plane.

Peter pointed the gun, pulling the trigger and missing as the plane veered to his right, out of view. He swiveled to the second, letting loose a barrage, causing the plane to spin and attempt to dodge the fire. One bullet had apparently hit, as the Zero began to dive, smoke emanating from its engine. It dipped below the clouds, unseen.

The previous plane, however, was still unaccounted for, and Peter scoured the horizon in search of it.

Peter called out to the cockpit, "I can't see him! Do you have eyes on him?!"

"No, I can't... wait, he's high!"

Peter swiveled the gun skyward, setting his sights on the plane as it was now diving at high velocity towards the bomber, firing on all cylinders.

Peter returned fire, failing to hit the significantly smaller target, but the Zero's bullets had penetrated the left-most engine.

Hilario shouted, "We are hit, badly!"

Peter asked, "How long do we have?!"

"I can make it to the island. We are close!"

Peter searched the skies once more in search of the pursuer, spotting him in the distance. He waited, anticipating the plane making another attack. Instead, it slowed down, dipping out of view through the clouds.

Peter yelled back to Hilario, "He's gone!"

He continued waiting, palms sweating and clenching the gun so tightly it began to hurt. From the cockpit, Peter could hear the sound of radio static then a distinctly Southern, American voice.

"Attention, this is restricted air space. Turn around or you will be shot down!"

They must have noticed the plane was being attacked by Zeroes, otherwise they would have begun firing at them. Peter had made his way to the cockpit, climbing the ladder and taking control of the radio while Hilario attended to the flight controls of the damaged plane.

The voice returned, speaking in Japanese for one final warning, "Anata wa gekitsui sa remasu!"

Peter replied into the microphone, "I speak English, damn it! This is Peter McCain, United States Marine Corp. We are survivors from Bataan! We have crucial documents on Japanese attack plans. We need to land on the island!"

The plane dipped left, as the engine began to give out.

Hilario turned to Peter, "This plane isn't landing on a runway."

The radio replied back, "Copy that, your craft is FUBARed. You need to divert to an open field or you risk hitting the base. You need to pull up, now!"

Peter held Hilario's shoulder tightly, "You've got this!"

"Get down and strap in!" Hilario picked up the radio, "We are going down at the beach, south of the base. Send help immediately!"

"Copy."

Peter located a seat under the cockpit away from the glass front and rear of the plane. He strapped himself in and ensured the documents were held safely on his person. He only hoped that if they died, the precious cargo would not burn up in an explosion.

He rattled in his seat, taking his mind elsewhere as the wings of the plane began to crumble and fall. He closed his eyes and prayed for God's protection as they plummeted to Earth.

Hilario screamed, "BRACE!"

No more than a few seconds later, Peter heard a hard crack as the hull impacted the tropical beach, nearly crumpling under its own weight as it was shot like a bullet through the sand. Glass flew from the front of the plane to the back, cutting Peter's knees as he jostled in his seat. Peter could feel the plane's fuselage beginning to twist, the wings now completely gone. The last thing he could remember was the loud crunch of the front of the plane as it slowed and came to a sudden stop at a large rock near the tree line.

When he came to, Peter was being dragged through the sand, his view being of the wrecked, burning hunk of metal that was once a plane. He gazed downward at his legs, which were bleeding profusely, and he felt a sharp pain in his temple, where his head must have impacted the interior of the plane and knocked him cold. He could not bear to move his head enough to view who was dragging him. He placed his hand in his pocket, finding the intel safe and sound. He placed it back, trying to speak with his bloodied mouth.

"Where is... Hilario... did he..."

Peter felt woozy, and close to blacking out again, before he was picked up by two men and put into the bed of a truck. He tilted his head slightly as the truck began to move, and now saw the bloodied, bruised, but alive Hilario Reyes.

"You... you did it. We fucking pulled it off..."

Hilario groaned, "... Of course we did."

Chapter 16: … I Will Build My Church

Near the Himalayas

Dr. Edward Richtofen

May 16th, 1942

Richtofen could not help but bask in the glory of the breathtaking statue being constructed in, of course, his honor. The idol had been designed and constructed by the architects of Shangri-La's local tribe.

Using Group 935's resources, an outpost at the stone temple had been constructed, which should also double as a secluded laboratory for Richtofen's personal experiments, much like his former laboratory at Alcatraz Island under the Illuminati. This would be much more accessible, and most importantly, all his own.

After baking in the direct sunlight beaming down onto the dirt road, Richtofen found solace within the temple, where he had agreed to meet with Doctor Schuster to tour the mining operation. Edward had not taken the time to enjoy the fruits of his labor recently, and would not have much more with his appointment as Director of Operations at Der Eisendrache.

Inside, Schuster stood at the center of the room, looking over blueprints for the outpost on a stone slab. Only this small section of the room was in direct sunlight due to a hole in the roof.

Richtofen emerged from the darkness, frightening his old friend, "Doctor Schuster!"

Schuster let out a yelp, "Ah-ah! My god, Edward, you frightened the daylights out of me!"

"Apologies, Baron. How goes the operations at Griffin Station?"

Schuster readjusted himself, "Progress on the MPD has been... limited."

Edward took Schuster's shoulder, guiding him towards the doorway leading outside as he spoke.

"Time for research on Vril and the pyramid is just as limited at Der Eisendrache. Doctor Maxis has ordered that we continue our rocket testing, as well as work on his infernal Ray Gun. Mein Gott, I've told him time and time again, his naming conventions are terrible! Imagine you are a young, blonde German soldier und your allies have abandoned you. You must choose between two weapons to take on the entire Red Army: the... 'Ray Gun', or... the WunderwaffeDG-2!"

Schuster excitedly replied, "Oh, the Wunderwaffe!"

"Exactly! Finally, someone who knows what I mean when I say that a weapon should sound just as powerful as it performs! Doctor Wagner disagrees, of course. Always Doctor Maxis' lapdog... so sad."

They were now exposed to the sunlight, making their way on the path towards the village which was located just uphill from the mine.

"Doctor Schuster, there is a reason I invited you specifically for this meeting… besides my desire for your company, of course."

"Oh? What would that be?"

"Our excavation team made some very intriguing discoveries in their work in Africa. Some discoveries I would like you und Doctor Groph to explore when the time is right."

"What did they find exactly?"

"You may find it somewhat hard to believe, but, while digging in an area designated as a potential 115 deposit, they discovered a… town."

Schuster slowed his pace, turning to Edward, "A… town? Like the ancient Vril-Ya cities within the Earth Groph is always rambling about?"

Richtofen shrugged, "Not exactly. It was some sort of American… cowboy village."

Schuster stopped completely, "What?!"

"You know, cowboys! On their horses with pistols," Edward turned his hand into the shape of a gun, faux firing into the air, "Pow, pow!"

"How… how is that possible? Have the Americans created a research station in Africa?"

"There was no one alive in the town. It appears the townsfolk all died many years ago… in... cowboy times. How it ended up in Sub-Saharan Africa, I cannot be sure."

Schuster shook his head, "That is quite remarkable, Edward. But what does that have to do with me?"

"Well, less you und more Doctor Groph. A resident of this town went by the name of Jebediah Brown. He was some sort of blacksmith far ahead in genius than the science of his time, much like ourselves. He had designs for something called the Agarthan Device."

Schuster sighed, "Oh boy. Edward… "

"Hear me out, Baron! This Agarthan Device would hold the ability to grant any desire that its creator wishes. It is able to manifest the full power of the Aether within our own world, giving its creator control over the fabric of reality. Theoretically, of course."

Schuster scratched his head, asking, "Like a genie?"

"Precisely! I know that sounds like the ramblings of un apple pie-eating hillbilly, but he was one-third of the way there. He crafted the Vril Vessel: An artifact found in Groph's research, und I have held it in mein hand."

"Edward… "

"I understand your skepticism, Doctor Schuster, really, I do. While our plan to unlock the gateway to Agartha through the pyramid is the ultimate plan, it is necessary to explore all of our options."

Schuster paused, searching for words, "It all sounds a little… far-fetched. And complicated. What of the other components? What are they? Magic beans? The forbidden fruit of knowledge?"

Offended, Richtofen pulled from his coat several copies of Jebediah Brown's work, as well as a schematic for the Vril Vessel, pushing it into Schuster's chest. "Since you are unconvinced und perhaps a little grumpy, you should pass this work onto Doctor Groph. He will understand."

As they returned to walking, Schuster paused before muttering, "I'm sorry, Edward. There has been a lot of stress in our work as of late. I do not mean to belittle you, especially after all you have accomplished."

Richtofen noted Schuster's pouting expression as he looked to the ground. Looking to ease the tension, Edward replied, "That's alright, Doctor Schuster. It all really is very hard to believe how far we have come und what we have discovered. We are on the cusp of a new age for humanity… und not everything will always make sense at first glance."

Schuster perked up as his old friend showed mercy. "Thank you, Edward. I really am sorry I cannot match you in intuition. Trying to keep up as you guide us through the darkness into the light is difficult, at times. But difficulty is what I signed up for when I first met you, all those years ago."

Richtofen smirked, patting Schuster on the back, "I knew I could count on you, old friend. When this is all over, you will get the rest und relaxation you so surely deserve."

The pair had trudged through a short patch of mud before arriving at the village square, with architecture adorned with local art and symbols carved into the stone. As they arrived, they could hear scuffling and yelling just around the corner of a home.

Richtofen and Schuster sprinted to discover the source of the commotion. A group of villagers were surrounding the head of the mining operation from Der Riese, who was tugging at the hand of a young boy from the village, as a man who appeared to be his father was yelling in limited English to let him go.

As Richtofen approached the crowd, they took notice of his arrival and cleared a path before kneeling in respect. They were now silent, aside from the father's cries and the boy's struggling.

Richtofen jovially approached the situation, "Gentlemen! What seems to be the problem, Herr Meier?"

The miner continued to grip the boy's arm tightly, responding to Richtofen as he held him in place.

"There's a frayed wire attached to the generator that needs replacing. But it's deep in the rock and we need someone small to reach in and replace it."

Edward tapped his finger to his lips, "Hm, that seems quite reasonable. And you, sir, what is the problem?"

Richtofen pointed to the father, now kneeling as well with his hands together, begging Richtofen to free his son.

"Please... my son... no work... danger! Danger!"

The voices returned to Richtofen's head, "Will you allow these simple beings to trample over you? Convince them to listen to your will."

Richtofen replied to the father calmly, "Living in a jungle with Element 115 and men rising from the dead is already quite dangerous, no? Surely the boy can handle this task."

The man began to cry, bowing his head as he continued to plead, "Please! Please! Please!"

Meier shook his head, speaking directly to Richtofen now, "This one has refused to cooperate before. I say you tell them to follow our demands, or we will never get anything done! Explain to him I'm taking the boy."

Richtofen paused for a moment, reviewing Meier's words carefully. He turned his body to face Meier, and approached him robotically, coming close enough to his face that he could feel the warmth of his breathing. He was a few inches taller than Meier and looked down on him with a stone-faced expression as he gripped his shoulders tightly. Meier became visibly uncomfortable, averting his gaze downwards towards the sobbing man. Richtofen spoke softly so he, and he alone, could hear.

"They... are not our slaves. They are willing laborers, und they answer to me, just like you."

He squeezed tighter on Meier's shoulders, his breath hitting his face.

"Why do they answer to me, you ask? Do they fear me? No. They respect me. They can see that I will lead them on a path to greatness. They see thatI am their savior. Let me command my people. You... should return to your work in the mine, where you belong. Am I understood?"

One of the voices creeped in, "Bravo, old boy."

Now sweating at the forehead, Meier nodded his head in submission, as Richtofen released him and turned back with a smile on his face to the father, who was still muttering to himself and his son through the tears.

"Alright, calm yourself! Let us form a deal, shall we? Herr Meier will still use your son for this very, very important task. But, you can take off work for the day. Ja? No work today! How fun! How does that sound?"

The villager shook his head, "No! No! No work! Please!"

Richtofen seemed perplexed by the fatherly attachment to the boy, a feeling he could not relate to.

"Really? I thought that was a fair offer, myself. I would have taken it!"

The man was still kneeling and begging, eyes red with tears. Meier was visibly shaken and removed from the conversation. Schuster watched silently.

Richtofen paced back and forth for a few moments, before making a final offer, "Hm... ah! How about the boy does not work in the mines, but you solve this little problem und work for longer periods throughout the next couple of days? Hm? No work for the boy, the lucky little brat, und you will pick up his slack."

The villager hesitantly nodded, finally standing from his position and taking the now released boy to his side.

"Thank you. Richtofen."

Richtofen grinned, waving to the father and the boy, "Bitte! Send the boy running home, now, Herr Meier will need your help with this wire situation."

Meier hesitated for a moment about speaking up, but did so anyway, "How are we supposed to replace the wire? That's why I needed the boy!"

Richtofen placed one hand on Meier's shoulder gently, though still provoking him to flinch.

"I'm sure you will figure it out, Herr Meier. Goodbye."

Meier and the father stood silent for a moment, before Meier led the two of them to the mineshaft's entrance, stepping inside the torch-lit hole. Richtofen looked at Schuster, pumping his fist into the air.

"Now that, Doctor Schuster, is how you run an organization!" Richtofen chuckled to himself.

"That was... impressive, Doctor. Both parties seemed... satisfied."

"Follow my example, and one day, when we've unlocked the MPD's powers und I can safely retire, it will be you in my boots giving all of the orders."

"Me? I don't know what to say, Doctor. I was beginning to think you did not think me capable of leading a project."

"Of course I do, Baron! I had hoped you would not take Groph's assignment as head of Griffin Station as an insult to your leadership ability. I simply wanted to avoid the appearance of nepotism, as you are a dear friend of mine!"

"Of course not, Doctor. Eh... thank you. I appreciate all that you've done. The station, this... jungle is simply breathtaking."

The crowd around them was now dispersing as they trekked down the hill towards the ruined temple, now the entrance to another set of mines.

"All you need, Herr Schuster, is confidence! Confidence und assertiveness. Everyone responds well to these traits. Soldiers, laborers, scientists... we are all ready to serve the needs of others with the right leadership to light the way."

"I will certainly work on that when I have the chance. Perhaps I will try it with these mercenaries you've hired?"

"Hm... ja, that could work."

Up ahead a few meters was a soldier, sitting down on a stone sunk in the mud, smoking a cigarette, his German MP-40 resting against a tree. Schuster began to pick up his pace, moving ahead of Richtofen, eager to exploit his newfound confidence. Richtofen felt the urge to stop him, but the voices prevented him, "Let him go, Edward. How else will he learn?"

Schuster called out to the soldier as he approached, "You there, uh, sir. How many undead attacks have there been in the past forty-eight hours?"

The mercenary continued to puff smoke, looking at Schuster with confusion and then contempt.

"Erm, did you hear me? Can you answer the question? You don't seem to be doing much right now-"

He stood up from the stone, now visibly taller than Schuster, and his build much more intimidating than it had seemed before. Schuster seemed uneasy and frightened.

Richtofen had now caught up with them, and jovially wrapped his arm around Schuster.

Richtofen let out a mood-lightening chuckle, "Doktor Schuster ist mein Freund hier, er war nur neugierig geworden, bezüglich der Angriffe durch die Untoten, die vor Kurzem stattgefunden haben."

Schuster interjected, "Oh my, I, uh, apologize, I mean, es tut mir leid. Ich bin Doktor Schuster-"

The soldier raised his hand towards Schuster, instructing him to stop speaking before replying, "Three, perhaps four attacks in the past forty-eight hours. Doktor Richtofen, we need more supplies, und certainly a higher payment for such work."

"Ah, ja, of course, thank you for bringing this to me personally... I will see that your shipment is doubled, und your wages are... improved."

The mercenary tossed the cigarette into the mud before wrapping the strap attached to his weapon around himself, "The rest of the men are down below. The miners have begun blasting."

Richtofen bowed, replying, "Danke, comrade!"

Richtofen guided Schuster forward until they were near the mine's entrance, where another mercenary stood guard. The facade of the mine was held up by wooden scaffolding, and the interior was lit by gas lamps for many meters before the tunnel branched. Placed in the dirt leading outside was a set of rails for carts to transport ore, particularly 115.

Richtofen patted Schuster's back, smiling as he did so.

"A noble attempt, Mr. Schuster, but some nuts are harder to crack than others, to speak metaphorically. You must remember these men are not loyal to our cause. They are only loyal to the man handing them their Reichsmarks, which happens to be me. Give them time, und perhaps they will understand what we are working towards. Then, maybe they would work for free... But probably not..."

Schuster replied, "I may have been a bit overzealous. Surely, they will come to know me as I continue my work here and at Griffin Station. No need to rush these things."

Richtofen halted as the voices began to whisper in his ear, drawing his attention towards the end of the mine shaft.

Then came the eruption of echoed gunshots and screaming from inside. The man standing near the entrance motioned for them to stay back before pointing the weapon into the sparsely-lit mine. From inside, the screams grew louder before a set of lights from mining helmets cut through the darkness. The men scattered once they reached sunlight, heading for the secure radio station outside the village. Inside the cave there were flashes from the barrels of automatic weapons, and more boots as a set of armed mercenaries ran towards the light. Amongst them were village laborers, defending themselves with the help of pickaxes and hammers. They all formed a defense around the entrance, pushing Richtofen and Schuster back as they prepared for an attack.

From inside the mine there was unnatural screaming and snarling. A set of figures passed by a gas lamp, one even knocking it to the ground as they lumbered forward. They could hardly be seen by Richtofen through the crowd within the dark cave, but he could see the dim lights of their eyes, completely void and dead-set on reaching sunlight.

The man from uphill came running down, followed by two more mercenaries, faces red and sweat dripping. He took aim with the others and crouched in formation. The lamps in the tunnel began to fade as they were blotted out by the beings inside.

The first one came into view, head first. Its skin was grey and covered in muck, the skin around its jaw decomposed. Its bare body was covered in tattoos and splotched with various bumps and lesions where maggots lived. Its yellow pants were torn revealing bone poking through skin and muscle. It swung its veiny, thin arms, attempting to pounce as it entered daylight before an anonymous gunman tore a hole in its chest, knocking it back. It was quickly trampled as two more, equally rotten and disgusting corpses, charged forward. The surplus of ammunition proved to be enough to hold them at bay for now.

A stray bullet impacted a gas lamp near the entrance, cutting out the last available light to spot the attackers. It seemed almost endless, as the trained professionals fired in shifts, taking note of each other's ready status. Another stray bullet created a loud ping as it bounced off of a metal rail, creating a spark which ignited the gas dripping from the hanging lamp. A few in the center of the horde were now burning at their legs, revealing a pile of corpses beneath and the empty tunnel to their rear.

As Richtofen watched in awe, he heard the whispering voices return, which drew him away towards the ground beneath him. He was shaken by the tugging of something at his ankle. There was a filthy, brown and grey hand wrapped around him, and the ugly, terrorizing face of its host, snarling as it pulled itself through the shallow mud.

"Sheiße!"

With the attention of everyone else drawn towards the mine, they had not noticed the riser. Richtofen moved swiftly, pulling from his bag a small, relatively dull knife, leaning down and shoving it into the wrist of his attacker as he used his other leg to stomp on the wound. It grew angrier, rearing its head back as it came out of the dirt. Richtofen continued repeatedly stabbing shallow wounds into the wrist, but it showed no sign of easing off. It pulled Richtofen's body to the ground, and as he struggled, he toppled over.

"Doctor Schuster!"

Schuster attempted to stomp on the zombie's arm to release its grip, with little success. Edward's screams were silent compared to the hail of gunfire.

The beast's ravenous face grew still as the metal point of a pickaxe shot through the top of its skull to the bottom of its jaw. Its wielder was a village laborer who left the tool in place, before prying the fingers off of Richtofen's boot. Through the haze of adrenaline, Richtofen could see the outstretched hand of the man, a tattoo of a black sun on his chest. He took his hand, rising to his feet as gunfire ceased.

"Mein Gott, thank you, I would have-"

As the villager kneeled to the ground to worship him, Richtofen could now see the festering wound in the man's neck. He also noticed the shakiness of his hands and heavy breathing before coming face to face with his bloodshot eyes. As the group of mercenaries began to disperse in search of more undead, the laborer began to lower further, fainting onto the ground, barely even alive.

Richtofen cocked his head around to the men around him, who were paying no mind to the dying man.

He knelt down, examining the wound, gaping and filled with pus.

"That is... quite large."

With no one paying any mind to them, Richtofen raised his voice, "Will anyone get this man to the barracks?! He needs medical attention! This is surely infected!"

He had drawn the attention of two other laborers, who arrived and attempted to keep the man alive as they dragged him away.

Richtofen and Schuster were now left shaken standing in the middle of all the chaos. Edward looked at his blade, stained red with aged blood, before resting his arms at his side and turning to Schuster.

"It appears we will not be touring the mine."

Schuster's complexion was pale and demeanor like that of a frightened child, "So it seems."

Edward began heading back up the hill, and Schuster followed in suit. The two men were silent as well as slow in their pace.

The voices chimed in, "Why do you worry your mind with these worthless beings?"

Richtofen muttered to himself, "They were going to just... leave him to die."

Schuster turned to Richtofen, apparently hearing his statement, "There was nothing that could be done, Edward. His injuries seemed... fatal."

"What does it matter, Edward? Just another body to the pile. He lived a meaningless life, and he died for you. Take solace in the one useful deed you allowed him to perform."

In a hushed shout, Richtofen said, "Quiet! Stop tormenting me!"

Richtofen was now gripping the blade's handle so hard his hand was a bright red.

Schuster sorrowfully replied, "I am sorry, Edward, I didn't mean to-"

Edward cut him off, "Nein, no, not you... you've done nothing wrong."

Edward paused a moment to calm himself before continuing, "Do you know what they called me during my time at the front? I'm sure you've heard the nickname I was given: 'The Butcher.'"

"I've heard these rumours, yes."

"It began as a facetious nickname given to me by General Amsel during my time there, but he and his... men... they transformed it into propaganda. A tool for fear. The occupied peoples on the streets dared not to rebel against the Reich. 'Beware the Doc.' The Butcher would torture and tear you apart, with no morality or even a purpose. It is a fate worse than death to be in The Butcher's hands."

They had reached a nearby stream, where Edward was crouching down, placing the blade of his knife into the water to wash away the blood.

"Every day I've thought about how... ludicrous it all was. I am a man of science. The Butcher should mean nothing to me... as time has passed, however, I've begun to wonder if he is truly gone. If perhaps, I am not as innocent as I seem, in my endeavors to do good; To do the right thing."

He raised himself up, taking a look into the dull blade, before wiping it dry with his coat and placing it back into his bag. Schuster stood silent, listening intently. With nothing further, Richtofen began to head back towards the hill, but was stopped when Schuster asked him a question: "Edward, where did you get a Hitler Youth Knife?"

Edward turned back, sullen-faced, replying simply, "It was a gift."

"From whom?"

He took a moment to respond, "During that time, I was invited to present some of my work in science to a group of Hitler Youth for the week. I was reluctant to, as children und I do not quite get along. At this time, however, I needed to form a strong partnership with members of the Reichstag, und this was the perfect opportunity to prove myself."

"Was it a gift from the staff?"

"Nein... there was a boy in the group who had followed my work, only that which was published, of course. He seemed to be the most interested in my presentation, and during my stay with them, he would constantly ask me questions I could not answer. It was a constant barrage of information und details that I did not care for. The boy simply would not leave me to myself. During a trip through Berlin, he confided in me that his father had left to fight in the war, leaving him and his sister with nothing. His father did not seem to care for him very much, denying him a chemistry kit every year for his birthday und physically reprimanding him when he would ask. He wanted to be a Doctor and save lives."

The sun was beginning to set towards the opposite side of the mountain, reddening the cloudy sky.

"On my last day, the boys created their own knives to use in their scouting trip. The child who had continued to follow me said that I must save as many lives as I can until he can become a Doctor. He came to me with his completed knife, und took from his belt a leather sheath. He had cut into the leather, 'Dr., ...' well, I can't remember his last name. He was glowing... with this expression of pride und happiness... und when he showed me the sheath... I took it and tossed it aside. He had ruined it, rendering it completely useless, and I told him as much! What a waste of raw material for a barely legible inscription! He ran off in tears, of course. The little brat could not handle the criticism. Since he clearly had no use for the blade anymore, he tossed it to the ground, und I collected it. Now... I mostly use it to spread jam on toast."

The two men stood silent under the sunset, the buzzing of mosquitoes and chirping of crickets booming in comparison. Schuster searched his mind for words, before turning his body towards the upper hill and pacing towards the barracks.

"The sun is getting low, Doctor."

Chapter 17: Semper Fi

1600 Pennsylvania Ave. NW, Washington, D.C., United States of America

Pvt. Peter McCain

June 16th, 1942

At the dawn of a new day, Peter forced his aching, tired body out of the government limousine into the chilly morning air. He wore his most formal outfit, with a bright blue tie, a grey jacket, and grey dress pants. His right arm rested in a cast at his chest, almost completely healed from the near-impossible landing in the Philippines. He had sent a letter to Hilario as soon as he was able to write while in the hospital, and to his surprise the surly mechanic sent a heart-felt response with an image of him and his brother, Isko, as boys. Hilario hoped to continue writing back even as he was being sent back to the front to assist Filipino forces. Peter, on the other hand, had been dealt an entirely different opportunity.

He was greeted with a sweaty handshake by a man in all-black business attire, a collection of files in a manila folder under his other arm, "We're glad to have you, Mr. McCain."

Behind him was the revered White House, the residence of the President of the United States. Peter paid little attention to the neurotic man before him as he looked out on the freshly cut lawn and intricate stone pathway leading up to the building. It was just as grand a piece of architecture as he had seen in pictures, perhaps even greater.

The man guided him up the path leading up to the front doors.

"A beautiful morning, isn't it, Mr. McCain?"

"Yeah, you could say that. Pretty early to have a meeting for a guy like me, though."

"Director Donovan could only book the room for this time. They've been quite busy, as you can imagine."

Peter perked up, "Director... Oh! I thought you were Donovan. See, I was being real quiet and smooth, because I thought you were the Director. What's your name?"

"The name's Cornellius Pernell. I'll be your handler once you begin training. I thought he had mentioned me in the letter… "

"Ah, yeah, he probably did. Sorry. I've been focused on spending time with my little girl. We've been watching those cartoon pictures at the theater. You need to keep paying those guys making the ones with the bunny. She loves those things."

"That isn't quite our department, that would be the concern of the Office of War Information. You'd have to talk to one of them, assuming you aren't joking."

"Only partially, Mr. Pernell."

"You can just call me Cornellius. We're going to be doing a lot of work together."

Pernell opened the doorway leading into the reception room and then into the central hallway. The floors were shining, freshly cleaned, and an intricate chandelier hung from the ceiling, tying together the various works of art and plants lining the walls. A wide, red carpet divided the room in half, leading them on the path to the West Wing. Looking upon the old-fashioned marble work, Peter whistled in awe at the sheer size and majesty of it all. It was everything his home was not: Massive, regal, fit for a king and his queen, and completely spotless.

Again the duo passed through another set of doors into the West Wing's foyer, the architecture slightly more modern with an entirely different color scheme and atmosphere. In the center of the room were several men in military uniform talking, before glancing at Peter as he entered the room.

Peter began to panic, adjusting his tie, and wiping away any debris on his shoulders, "Shit... I shouldn't have worn the blue tie. It was too much, wasn't it?"

Cornellius muttered quietly, "Peter."

"Look, they're all wearing striped grey ties."

In a hushed tone, Cornellius exclaimed, taking Peter's shoulder, "Peter!"

"What?"

"Just... stay calm. Look, don't worry about what they think of you; They know you're here for a good reason. Just look at your cast: It says it all. Me, though, I'm new to all this bureaucracy. If they're looking at anyone, it's me... When we get inside, just sit down. Be humble. You'll be fine."

With his hand firmly on Peter's shoulder, Cornellius guided them left into another hallway, and then immediately right into a wide room with a table in the center, covered in papers. Sat at the table was a man with posture that commanded the room. He was most definitely Director of the OSS, William Donovan. At his right was a young lady with a typewriter, now smoking a cigarette, and to his left several more men in military uniforms listening to him. At one end of the table was an image projector, turned off on a rolling cart; At the other, was a portable, white screen placed near the opposite doorway.

Noting their arrival, Donovan stood up from his seat, leaning over and outstretching his hand to Pernell who accepted the gesture.

Pernell motioned towards Peter, stating, "Director! This is Private Peter McCain."

Donovan offered his hand to Peter as well, "A Private no longer, Cornellius. It's great to have you, Agent McCain."

Unlike Pernell's clammy, unrefined grasp, Donovan's was firm and daunting. Peter was at a loss for words, already being referred to as an agent of the OSS before training had even begun.

"Thank... th- thank you, Director. Uh... is the President anywhere around here too, or... because I don't know if I, uh-"

Pernell nudged him above his ribs behind the cast, urging him to silence. Donovan responded promptly, "The President will not be joining us as he has other matters to attend to, but I know for a fact he would love to meet you in person. For now, we should begin the meeting. Deandra?"

The young blonde woman put out her cigarette, ensuring her typewriter was ready before nodding to the Director, now seated alongside the others at the table. Pernell and McCain sat down at the opposite side, Peter meeting eyes with the assistant before passing a flirtatious wink. This did not seem to faze her as she prepared to write the transcript of the meeting.

Donovan looked over the paper before him, reciting it to the room.

"Gentleman, just three days ago the President issued an order to establish the Office of Strategic Services. Our agenda is to perform special operations and intelligence work for the United States military. You are all the first members of this historic organization, and have been hand-selected for your skill-sets, expertise, and technical prowess. In particular, the purpose of today's meeting will be to introduce our first field agent, Mr. McCain, to his upcoming operations. Mr. Pernell will be his handler and Mr. Hampton will be the Chief Operations Coordinator."

Peter leaned over, nudging Pernell and whispering to him, "Which one is Hampton?"

Pernell promptly motioned with his index finger towards the stout older man behind Donovan's chair.

"With time, we will have more new recruits for Operation Torch, but Mr. McCain, your training will concern intelligence far greater in secrecy that will affect the future of the United States throughout and after the war. George, the lights?"

Near the doorway, a suited man dimmed the lights of the room, as another activated the projector, beaming a light onto the white screen. Peter squirmed in his chair, dying to ask questions but afraid to do so at this time.

The first image that came onto the screen was that of an older, bald, and bearded man in a lab coat sitting at a desk.

Donovan continued, "This is Doctor Ludvig Maxis. In 1931, he founded Group 935, a scientific research organization headquartered outside of Breslau at a location known as The Giant, or in German, Der Riese. The world's most prestigious scientists were invited to join the group by Doctor Maxis, and it has since expanded across the globe. Group 935 is an extremely exclusive and secretive organization sharing next to none of its research publicly. Their research primarily revolves around a rare, new element known as 115, and The Giant is smack dab on top of one of the largest depositories of 115. Group 935 concerns us because of Maxis' dealings with the German government."

The slide changed to a blurry photo of two figures shaking hands, one apparently Doctor Maxis, and the other in German military fatigues.

"We have confirmation from numerous operatives previously watching over Group 935 that Maxis has formed a deal with the Nazis. They requested Group 935 to support their military in exchange for future funding. What this support has garnered for them, we are not entirely certain yet. British operatives discovered spent shell casings that seem to have been forged partially using the element. Now Group 935 has expanded its influence into Austria, Siberia, Kastovia, and Japan. They also have two facilities in Berlin that are unknown to even some members of Group 935, and the Reichstag would like to believe we know nothing about them. Your first goal, Agent McCain, will be discovering the purpose of these two facilities. Their secrecy to all but Maxis' most trusted inner circle is concerning, and their research could turn the tides of the war for the worse."

Now on the screen was a map of the world with red dots scattered across the eastern hemisphere denoting known Group 935 locations. Peter grew more anxious thinking of being sent to Europe.

"Because of your actions in the Pacific, you've grabbed our attention, and according to your records you excelled in every training regiment, with... minimal complaints from your superiors. You've succeeded in medical training, and apparently speak fluent German?"

He looked to Peter expectantly, who nodded his head nervously as he spoke. "Germ- yeah, I learned it in High School, then some College classes… "

Donovan nodded, assured, returning to his prepared words.

"For these reasons you have been chosen for this operation, henceforth known as Operation Firebrand. At the moment Group 935 is closed off from allowing non-German citizens into its ranks. For now, you'll be training for field operations and analyzing all the information we have on the organization to prepare you for the day you have to infiltrate Der Riese. Major Sawyer, here, has top men forging a medical license and research to be published under your name. If Group 935 will ever allow Americans into the organization again, you will need the proper scientific background to join. Once you are ready and your body is healed, we can begin espionage training and a further debriefing on your upcoming missions. Mr. Pernell will be handling all of that and more. He will be your direct line to the OSS in the field and will provide you with everything you need."

Pernell adjusted himself in his seat, seemingly nervous at the very mention of his name.

Donovan continued, "Between training, you will need to conduct research of your own on Group 935's top players: Ludvig Maxis, Edward Richtofen, Hermann Porter, Josef Lehto... any known associates: Doctor Friedrich Steiner, Walter Bennet, Kosuke Okitsu... Study their books, their discoveries, anything you can find. Mr. Pernell can assist you in finding any information we have available and a list of known Group 935 members. Do you have any questions, Agent McCain?"

Peter mumbled to himself, slumped in his chair, searching for a proper question as the entire room looked directly into him. "Yeah, yes. How much time between my work will I have to come home and check in on my family?"

Donovan nodded thoughtfully, closing the folder before him before motioning the man near the door to turn the lights back on. "Throughout your training you will have holidays and ample vacation time. Of course, during that time you are free to visit family and friends before you are needed again. Once you are in Europe, however, you will stay until Operation Firebrand is a success and Group 935 is no longer a threat."

Peter stared blankly at the table for a moment, then to the young lady at the typewriter. She raised her eyebrow before looking at Donovan. Donovan broke the silence, "Any more questions, Agent McCain?"

Peter caught himself staring, before regaining his composure and replying, "No sir, no more. Thank you, sir!"

Donovan nodded, smiling, and outstretched his hand to him, "Thank you, Agent McCain, I'm sure you'll do us proud."

Peter shook his firm hand before standing up and heading towards the door, Pernell behind him. Pernell looked back to the Director, stating, "You can count on us sir. I'm sure Agent McCain will not let us down."

The pair had now exited into the lobby of the West Wing, Peter stopping as the door shut behind them to backhand Pernell in the chest, who exclaimed, confused, "Hey!"

"Hey you, Cornellius. I won't let you down? What is that supposed to mean?"
"It means I have confidence in you, Peter."

"Why?"

"I said be humble, not this humble."

"I don't know if I can do this. This is all so quick."

Peter was now leaning against the wall near a window looking over the lawn of the White House. Pernell joined him at the opposite side.

"I don't know if you are aware of this Peter, but that stunt you pulled to get the battle plans to Corregidor... that was crazy. No weapons, no air support, that took brains and most of all, that took guts."

"It wasn't all me. Isko-"

"I've read the debriefing. There were three of you, and you certainly couldn't do it alone. But without you they would have gotten nowhere. It was a team effort. Think of me like one of them."

"You? Like Isko? Or Hilario?"

"Okay, maybe not exactly like them, but I'll have your back. I know you can do this, Peter. What you did that day may have saved the lives of your entire platoon and more."

"'May have' being the key phrase there. Since then I haven't seen Wesley, or Stanford, or, Hell, Corporal Little-"

"These things take time. Now, I don't know you yet, not really. But I know you've got the skills that the OSS needs. The skills to save some lives, maybe kick some ass. First, I want to learn a little more about you, Pete."

"Don't call me Pete."

"Noted. Won't make the same mistake twice."

Peter paused for a moment, looking back onto the lawn before continuing to walk towards the doors he came in through, Pernell in tow.

"If you want to know something about me: I don't like change. Not one bit. In terms of a career, pencil-pushing and secret agent stuff is a pretty big change from failed field medic turned grunt. I'm gonna need some time to get acquainted with all of... that. I hadn't even heard of Group 935 before all of this."

"Very few have. And for the record, everything you saw in there was completely confidential."

"Oh please, who would I tell? Have all the information on Element 115 you can find sent to my place. Also everything on Doctor Maxis; I'm gonna need to get inside his head."

Peter and Cornellius were now out of the front doors of the White House, walking down the path towards a different limousine from the one before.

Cornellius patted Peter on the back, "I'll get right on that. You take care."

As Peter prepared to lower himself into the vehicle, he stood back up, speaking to Pernell.

"Also, send me an English-to-German dictionary too. Maybe some lessons for kids or something. I'm a bit rusty. Nein sprechen ze Deutsch sehr gut!"

Pernell said nothing in response, choosing instead to offer a thumb's up and reassuring expression as he closed the door of the vehicle, waving to the driver to take Peter home. As the limousine drove away from the White House lawn, Peter looked out the window back towards Pernell, who tripped and fell as he made his way up the steps, scattering the contents of his briefcase as another suited man in a wheelchair came outside and tried to assist him.

"I guess that's why I'm the field guy... "

Dr. Schuster Diary Entry: 18th of July, 1942

"Dear diary,

It has been quite some time since I first arrived on the Moon, and in that time I have had little to no chance to practice in my primary field of expertise: Chemistry. Dr. Richtofen has requested that I oversee the study of the pyramid along with Dr. Groph, a task I do not take lightly. Still, since I heard the news that Dr. Maxis had taken control of my old Perk-a-Cola project, I have been eager to return to my favorite branch of science from my undergraduate studies. It is strange; For months I worked night and day trying to perfect the formulas, and it was never enough. Yet, as Dr. Richtofen describes it, someone managed to create the Element 115-infused drinks I had dreamt of for years, and that someone left them in a box outside Maxis' office wrapped in a red scarf. Dr. Richtofen was understandably suspicious of me, but I honestly have no idea how my work could have gotten out, and who might have gone out of their way to complete the project in my absence. Edward informed me that Group 935 is beginning to formulate new ideas to be added to the project, but none have matched the utility of my original four concepts: Jugger-nog, Speed Cola, Quick Revive Soda, and Double Tap Root Beer... I fear what the Wehrmacht will be capable of with my creations. Hitler's armies have trampled across Europe and are now on Soviet soil. At times I am thankful to be on a celestial body far from the Earth, away from the senseless violence.

Dr. Richtofen has also informed me that much of Group 935's supply of chemical compounds including diatomite and prussic acid are being sold off to a pest control company in Germany. It seems the Reichstag is no longer interested in chemical weapons of war, and I am thankful to no longer take part in such barbaric research.

I often feel lonely at Griffin Station; Groph and his cohorts are all uniquely bizarre and I find that I cannot relate to any of them. Edward visits the station occasionally, but he has not been himself in quite some time. The cause may possibly be the stress of working under two scientific organizations, all the while hiding one away from the other. Another theory stems from a behavioral pattern I have observed in many other scientists here, and even occasionally myself. All of us who have worked closely with the pyramid tend to have outbursts of anger and confusion, some more than others. Richtofen's behavior in particular has been completely irrational, unlike anyone I have seen before, and he was the first to discover the MPD. At times he can be the same jovial busy-body I once knew, and at others he is short with anyone who crosses his path. I have chosen to withhold this theory from him, because I fear what extra stress this may cause. I know the weight of the world rests on his shoulders in his endeavor to make it a better one. I believe he will overcome the burden and succeed in the end; He always has.

It was Edward who suggested I keep a diary of my daily routine and my thoughts, and I understand now why: It is an amazing relief of stress. The past two weeks suggest a positive outcome in our project. Two days ago, our archaeological team discovered a new deposit of Element 115 south of Griffin Station and began mining operations. We also completed the second phase of the Bio-Dome project last night. We no longer need large shipments of oxygen to the station, as the plant life located in the BioDome now generates enough oxygen to support the station indefinitely. Our success proves that human life may be sustainable on any planet should overpopulation become an issue. This is exactly the type of research I expected when I first joined Group 935, and two years ago I could have never foreseen such progress.

Today Dr. Groph and I will be working with the MPD as we attempt to discover how to open this "gateway to another dimension." Last night, Dr. Groph showed me a set of ancient symbols seen on the face of the pyramid that he intends to input into the device. I can only hope Dr. Richtofen was correct in his assertion that Dr. Groph knows what he is doing regarding this 'Vril' technology."

Chapter 18: Pressure

Living Quarters, Griffin Station, Mare Crisium, Moon

Dr. Baron Schuster

July 18th, 1942

"Doctor Schuster! Time is being wasted. You are needed in the Exclusion Zone."

Doctor Schuster raised his body from his cot, tucked away near the laboratories of Griffin Station. Raising to his feet and rubbing his forehead to stow his headache, Schuster called out through the grey, metallic door to Doctor Groph, "I will be just a moment. Go ahead and prepare the testing area."

Groph followed, shortly, "The testing area has been ready for over an hour. Now, we are only waiting for you."

"Alright, alright, one moment."

Schuster approached his personal locker, the interior walls holding a framed picture of his father as well as his PhD, and he removed his lab coat. Dressing himself, Schuster placed his diary and fountain pen into his breast pocket. He placed his thumb onto a keypad near the doorway, changing the light on the door from red to green, before it separated in the middle, revealing Doctor Groph. His hands were behind his back and his lab coat wrinkled as if it had been slept in. Groph himself seemed to be lacking in sleep, however, as his eyes were bloodshot and there was grey beneath them.

"Come now, Doctor Schuster. We cannot delay any longer. I believe I know what we have been missing."

Schuster stepped through the doorway, pushing through the small gap between Groph and the wall, and stepping out into a hallway of cots for Griffin Station's scientists.

"The symbols?"

"Yes... how did you know? Have I told you before?"

"Yes. One time or two, I believe. If I may ask, the front panel of the MPD seems to hold roughly fifty symbols, many of which appear to be identical. Surely we could use a brute force method to discover the pyramid's functions?"

"To the untrained eye, the symbols appear the same. I know your knowledge regarding the Ancients is... elementary, but you surely must understand the potential consequences if we input the wrong sequence. They are very, very particular in their designs, and it has taken years for me to even achieve my own knowledge of their architecture and language. One wrong action and you may doom us all… "

"It was a simple suggestion. I understand the implications of such an ancient device being in our care, even if I know so little of its creators."

"None of us know just what power is held here... it is truly humbling."

Groph and Schuster walked through the middle section of the laboratories, passing several tired and sluggish scientists preparing their stations. Reaching the stairs, they were halted as Groph let out a yelp and staggered backwards. Before them was a Beagle dressed from the neck down in an aluminum suit not unlike those used by scientists to explore the Moon's surface. The joints were lined orange and a green tennis ball was attached to the side of the suit. It stopped as well at the sight of Groph and Schuster, wagging its tail which was also encased in the pressurized suit.

Groph scolded the dog's handler, another scientist on the station also dressed in a space-safe suit, a helmet under his arm.

"Why is this mutt in the testing area during work hours? It should be in the kennel!"

The middle-aged scientist spoke up, pulling the dog aside, "I was taking Sir Davy for his morning walk on the surface, I apologize, Doctor Groph."

"Do not apologize, just do as I ask."

Groph passed the dog, being sure he was as far from it as possible. Doctor Schuster followed after patting Sir Davy on the head and scratching behind his ears to the enjoyment of both parties. Schuster nodded to the handler before catching up with Doctor Groph near the door.

Groph shared his frustration inside the airlock leading to the cave where the MPD is held. "They even created a suit for it... such a waste of our precious time and resources."

"I believe Sir Davy provides an excellent relief of stress for them."

"Why do you call it... no matter. Our team is performing the most important experiment in human history. What is stress in the face of such a prospect?"

Like the doors of Schuster's sleeping quarters, the airlock opened allowing entrance into the pyramid testing area. The pair descended a metal staircase leading to a stone floor, to the right the glorious pyramid, and to the left a power module and rows of computers connected to the device with scientists lording over them. It was a sight seen so many times by Doctor Schuster in the past few weeks it felt almost mundane.

Groph called out to the technicians and scientists at the computers, "Are we ready?! Doctor Bauman?"

A short, older man with unkempt white hair stood at attention.

"Doctor Groph?"

"Have you ensured that all the data tapes are backed up and stowed away, and that all crucial systems are connected to the backup generator?"

"Yes, Doctor. We are ready to begin."

"Good. Doctor Schuster, join me, and keep a recorder handy. I have a very good feeling about today."

The pair stood together near the front face of the pyramid which held a circular dial covered in sets of engraved symbols outlined with engraved boxes. Schuster held a recording device in his left hand he retrieved from a scientist near the computers. Groph seemed eager to begin, approaching the front panel.

He guided his hovering hand over it, muttering to himself with what seemed like gibberish.

"Orrogwaoth Noz Arkamar..."

Schuster approached closer, trying to make sense of the symbols Groph chose.

Groph muttered, "Esthtuk Asteon... "

Schuster interrupted, "Doctor Groph, you haven't... touched the pyramid have you?"

Groph stuttered, "What? No, no. Doctor Richtofen specifically instructed us not to make physical contact with the pyramid itself or face expulsion from the Group... Now, quiet, I need concentration… "

Groph placed his index and middle finger on a set of symbols to the left of the center, causing the engraving to glow a bright blue. He then touched another set, and then another, lighting four and stepping away from the pyramid. The room was deathly silent as everyone looked to each other and to the pyramid awaiting any outcome. After a few moments, the lit up symbols faded to their original form.

"Scheiße!" Doctor Groph exclaimed, frustrated as he placed his hand on his bald head.

The room remained silent for a moment, before Groph exclaimed once again, "Ah!"

He input the same sequence of symbols again, changing the last to another symbol. Backing away, he waited, and the symbols soon faded once again. Groph stepped away, humbled and lacking words. Schuster dared not to speak up.

Then Doctor Bauman called out from the computers, "Doctor Groph, we are experiencing some interference in the signal."

Groph hurriedly approached one of the screens, Schuster close behind. There was a visible static and warping effect on the screen's representation of the station's power systems. Groph slapped his palm on the top of the system, shifting the warping effect and restoring the picture to normal. Now red in his face, Groph shoved Bauman aside and returned to the pyramid. "I don't understand! I input the symbols just as they were written! This is impossible!"

Schuster spoke up, "Perhaps you are remembering them incorrectly."

Groph barked back, "I remember them perfectly! Doctor Richtofen himself has told me I have impeccable memory on several occasions, I..."

He trailed off in his speech as he heard a loud banging coming from the direction of the other scientists. Up the stairs leading to the subsurface tunnels there was yelling in German as the banging grew louder. There was then a slam as a large, metal Group 935 storage container barreled down the stairs into the area, before flying through the air towards the MPD.

"Get down!" Schuster shoved Groph aside, who stood in its path mesmerized. It impacted the front panel of the pyramid with an echoing clang, sitting completely still on the surface. Every scientist in the labs had heard the commotion and was now piling into the cave. Men all the way from the Receiving Bay were now down the stairs, attempting to catch up to the rogue crate.

Groph rose to his feet, perplexed by the object that nearly crushed him. He attempted to push it away from the panel, with it giving no sign of movement. Even pulling with the strength of three men did nothing.

"What is in this container?"

The exasperated man from the receiving bay said, "Some type of artifact Doctor Richtofen wanted stored away... "

"The egg?"

Confused, the bay worker asked, "Egg?"

"Unlatch the box, and pull it away vertically! Now!"

As instructed, the worker input on the sideways keypad a passcode to unlock the container, and the heavier end on the hinge came away from the top, hitting the floor and shuffling the contents. The lid of the container was still firmly placed on the surface of the pyramid's panel, and in the center was the Black Egg that seemed to always gravitate towards the pyramid, its surface adorned with grooves and symbols just like that on the MPD's base.

Three men pulled the box downwards and away from the base, managing to move the box's lid down, the egg rolling along its surface, still gravitating towards the direct center of the pyramid's panel. They managed to pull the crate completely away, removing any barrier between the panel and the orb. The convex center of the circle had become concave, allowing for the orb to fit firmly in place. The entire panel began to light up as electricity sparked, heightening the temperature in the room.

After a moment of sparking, it stopped, and at the front left corner of the pyramid, a circle previously thought to be ornamental rose from the ground, revealing a seemingly glass tube about the height of an ordinary man. All of the scientists gazed at the tube, dazzled by it.

Doctor Schuster turned to Groph who was now smiling ear to ear. He approached the tube, gazing into it, before barking commands.

"Return the container to storage, and the rest of you return to your stations! Doctor Schuster, prepare the recording device. We have made history today."

The crowd dispersed leaving behind only Groph, Schuster, and the technicians. Doctor Schuster fiddled with the device as Doctor Groph touched the glass. He turned to Schuster.

"Are you ready, Doctor Schuster?"

"I am- AGH!"

Schuster dropped the recorder and stepped away frightened as a rat scurried across the stone below. The rat ran under a metal grate on the floor meant to make the uneven ground flatter. Schuster stood shaking as Groph picked up the recording device from the floor and initiated his log entry.

"Log 1075. Doctor Schuster and I have spent countless hours with the pyramid device in an attempt to understand how it functions. We have made little progress... until now. Today we uncovered what looks to be some kind of tank with a glass-like front. The glass itself seems-"

The rat had now left its hiding spot, revealing itself to Doctor Schuster, who took the opportunity to try and kill it.

"I've got you now, rat!"

Rolling his eyes, Groph frustratedly called out, "Kill it, Schuster!"

Schuster managed to cut off the rat's escape route towards the labs, stomping on it with his boot, crushing it. Immediately upon death, a beam of light shot out from the rat's body towards the pyramid.

Stunned, Schuster asked Groph, "Did you see that?"

Doctor Groph approached the glass tube, which had begun to fill with a blue liquid-like substance. "Look! The capacitor is illuminated, the tank is filling-"

The pyramid began to hum as the panel stayed lit.

Doctor Schuster interjected, "The machine, it seems to be activated! What did you do?"

"I think we just discovered what powers this machine." Groph turned off the recorder, pointing towards the computer team. "Contact Doctor Richtofen. He needs to know what has happened."

The two doctors ran towards the monitors, waiting as Doctor Richtofen received the transmission. A live feed from the teleporter room of Eagle's Nest appeared, with Doctor Richtofen in his lab coat nodding to another scientist before sending him away.

"Griffin Station, this is Eagle's Nest. Do you have an update?"

Groph shoved the technician aside, speaking directly to Richtofen.

"Yes, Doctor! Schuster and I were inputting the Vril symbols as you suggested and the Vril Sphere you discovered flew across the station directly into the device. A glass tube then rose from the ground! That is not all; After Schuster killed a rat near the MPD, it seemed to emanate a beam of energy directly into the panel itself, partially filling the tube."

He waited a moment, and Richtofen responded, confused, "So we have a rodent problem?"

"Doctor Richtofen! I believe this may be the key to powering up the device!"

"Ah! I see. Why do you believe this may be a power source?"

"It is merely a hypothesis, but from what I and Doctor Schuster saw, the rat seemed to emit an energy at the moment of death. Its life force, if you will."

Doctor Schuster inquired towards Groph, "Its... soul?"

"Not quite. From our perspective, that may be an ample description, but it is something more. As we have studied the pyramid we have noticed its tendency to recognize living beings that approach it and flare up in power levels. The device itself seems to recognize some type of... aetherial life force within all living beings. The rat... that dog... us."

Richtofen pondered, "Intriguing... we will need more of this energy to completely power up the device, ja?"

"Correct. Where we can find more living creatures to harness this energy will prove a problem. The chances that Doctor Schuster will find more pests on the station is minimal... although the dog-"

Schuster looked to Richtofen on the screen, "Edward, couldn't you supply us with undead subjects? Or testing animals from Der Riese?"

"Nein, Mr. Schuster. Maxis has a close eye on our inventory of living und un-living subjects. Any misstep and his cronies will be here investigating our interests. Besides, would these zombies even contain this energy?"

Groph responded, "I believe they would, as no device was around to collect it. The sudden burst of adrenaline at the moment of death may be the spark that allows their energy to be collected. Otherwise, Schuster and I would be dead and our energy collected in the machine while we were still alive."

"Regardless, this would be impossible. We cannot create our own undead subjects either, as any supplier of cadavers under the Reich is connected to Doctor Maxis und Group 935. There cannot be any chance that he discovers what we are doing here."

The three men pondered for a moment, unsure just how they may power the device with their limited resources. Doctor Schuster felt prepared to give up on the project altogether.

Then, Groph had an idea, "Do we have access to any prisons?"

Schuster was appalled at Groph's implications, "Are you suggesting we use living humans to power this machine? Have you gone mad?"

"Mad? I can think of no other way. There is no wildlife to harness for energy on the Moon or the barren snow around the castle."

Schuster replied, "With time, I believe we can-"

Richtofen cut him off, "Küstenposten."

"What?"

"I have contacts within Küstenposten: The prison for spies und Communists within Group 935 und Germany's other affiliated organizations. They will not be thrilled to hear from me... "

"Doctor Richtofen! You can't be serious! You can't… "

"I wish there was another way, old friend."

"I can't be involved in this! How can we do this in good faith?"

"You must understand this is the last thing I want to do... but history will shine brightly on us und these men for their sacrifice."

"What if Doctor Groph is wrong? What if it is all for nothing but a bloody light show?!"

"We will not know unless we try, Doctor Schuster. You und I could spend all day exchanging the possibilities, but there is only one way to rule any of them out. You know this."

Schuster backed away from the monitor, unable to see the humanity in Groph or Richtofen any longer. They seemed like complete strangers, no longer the men he once knew. He felt sick, stepping aside and sitting down.

Richtofen sighed, speaking to only Groph now, "I will contact Küstenposten. The first shipment will be on its way within a day, hopefully. I will have them send as many men as possible, so we can be done with this mess."

Groph hesitated for a moment, seemingly conflicted himself.

"Understood, Doctor. Griffin Station out."

The signal cut out into static and the screen dimmed, Groph returning to the pyramid alongside Schuster. The two gazed into the black abyss on the surface of the pyramid.

Groph cut through the silence, spouting, "It is the only way."

Schuster adjusted his lab coat, viewing his reflection in the stainless glass container at the corner of the pyramid.

"I know."

Chapter 19: Infernal Rite

Teleporter Room, Griffin Castle, Werfen, Salzburg, Austria

Dr. Edward Richtofen

July 20th, 1942

"Isn't it time to check in on your progress towards opening the gateway? The sacrificial lambs should have arrived by now."

Richtofen searched within cabinets, through drawers, and behind equipment in the hidden teleporter room. He was looking for a screwdriver set he had set out to find in the castle half an hour before, and there had not been any luck in locating it before official work hours would begin. He had hoped to find the set in order to continue work on the Wunderwaffe DG-2 during the morning hours, while Doctor Wagner was still preparing for today's experiment.

"And if they have? Doctor Groph will inform me when the work is complete. Unlike you, I find no pleasure in this unfortunate solution."

"You misunderstand us, Edward. Their energy is required if you are to form a bridge between your dimension and the Aether. Only then will we be freed."

"Ja, ja, you've told me again und again. I understand what must be done... It doesn't make it any easier."

"Radio the station and see for yourself. With time, it will become clear that their sacrifice is necessary."

With the screwdriver set nowhere in the room, Richtofen looked at the set of monitors atop a wooden table. Their picture showed a grainy feed from Griffin Station, the screen refreshing every second. Various rooms on the station were empty apart from the MPD chamber and the receiving bay, which were filled with armed mercenaries and a line of prisoners bound at the wrists shuffling towards the chamber.

Though there was no audio, detail was difficult to discern, and the feed was choppy. After a moment, he sent an outbound transmission to Doctor Groph. The larger, greenly-lit screen mounted on the wall lit up with the image of Doctor Groph and the pyramid behind him.

Richtofen stared into the pyramid through the feed for what felt like an eternity, switching his gaze to a distressed but stoic Groph, prepared to tell him to end the madness. Instead, Edward stated, "Griffin Station. This is Eagle's Nest. Status update. Over."

Groph seemed almost disappointed in Richtofen's request. Doctor Schuster was nowhere in sight.

"Hello, Doctor. We have the shipment, and are carrying out your orders... "

Through the feed, Edward could see a blindfolded, confused man standing before the massive, ominous structure. He jerked his head around, as if searching around the room without any sight, trying to grasp just where he was and why he was there. An armed mercenary stood behind him, a Luger in hand, guiding him toward the front panel. He then gripped the man's shoulder to hold him still, pointing the Luger to his back, swiftly putting a bullet into his heart. The lifeless body let out a final grunt and gasp as it tumbled to the floor, and a red beam of energy shot directly into the pyramid. Another mercenary dragged the body away as the shooter went out of the camera's view.

"It is grim work, Doctor... "

Though he dreaded seeing such barbarism personally before, Richtofen was beginning to understand the voices in his head, for all their cryptic talk. In Edward's thoughts, these actions seemed like something out of his control; Senseless violence. But, up close, in graphic detail, he could see the importance, nay, the necessity of their sacrifice. With such a perspective, it was almost satisfying to witness such progress for the greater good. Churchill, Roosevelt, Stalin... they send good men to die for nothing. Hitler sends his enemies into camps and prisons to waste away as part of his deluded, grand fantasy of Germany. Little does he know his enemies are here... being used to really save humanity. They die for a cause worth dying for: Eternal prosperity for those who deserve it.

As the gunman pushed another clueless pawn towards the pyramid, Edward responded to Groph's notion.

"All in the name of science, Doctor Groph. Continue until the tanks are full."

"Yes... doctor… "

Another man in prison uniform, blindfolded and dazed by the sudden removal from captivity, stumbled forward before having his heart pierced by the round of a Luger. He let out a gnarly, pained groan as he tumbled to the ground, his life force being harvested by the machine. As the clear tank continued to fill, the voices in Edward's head grew restless, chattering and moaning in his mind. Before he ended the transmission, he could hear Groph say under his breath, "May God have mercy on us all… "

As the audio cut out and feed ended, the final frame of Groph's dejected and weary eyes stayed on screen for a moment before fading.

"Satisfied?"

The primary voice in Edward's head responded, "Are you?"

Richtofen headed for the stone entrance, placing his ear against it to listen for any sign of Doctor Wagner outside.

Nothing.

He pressed the red button on a keypad near the wall, moving the stone door aside to let him through into the undercroft of the castle. After a few seconds, the stone wall reconvened, appearing identical to the rest of the castle's aged walls. Perhaps soon Richtofen may convince Wagner to leave his side and all of this convoluted secrecy may finally come to an end.

Edward ascended another stairwell leading to the snowy ground-level of the castle, before taking a spiral staircase into a small lab. Here he would meet with Doctor Wagner before the day's work would begin.

Once inside, Edward spotted Wagner hunched over a table, pencil and compass in hand as he marked over a large piece of paper. He lifted the paper from the table, revealing underneath the blueprints of the Wunderwaffe DG-2. Edward picked up his pace, now questioning Wagner.

"Was ist los?! What are you doing with my work?"

Wagner seemed delightfully surprised to see Edward, responding while cutting away at a section of his large piece of paper.

"Doctor Richtofen! I was just taking a look at your DG-2 prototype. It is a remarkable device."

Bemused, Edward replied, "Thank you... So what is it that you are doing?"

Wagner had cut out a small portion of the white paper with some sort of mechanical part drawn onto it. He then placed it on top of the Wunderwaffe blueprint near the end of the barrel.

"I read about the experiments and the difficulty with excess heat being vented backwards towards the user. I do not know if you had something in mind to solve this issue, but I had this idea... and wanted to know what you thought of it. If the barrel were wrapped in a coil made of a strong, electricity-resistant material combined with a 115-resistant material that Maxis has been working with-"

"115-resistant?"

"It's still in the experimental stage. I'm surprised Doctor Maxis has not informed you of this yet... I believe the pseudonym for it as of right now is Artificial Vril-

"Ah yes! Of course! I almost forgot Doctor Maxis had told me that; So much is going through my head at any one moment. Anywho, how would you integrate this into the DG-2?"

"With the coil being made of a combination of Vril and the same non-conductive metal you used near the capacitors, the bolts fired should not cause any significant damage to the user or the device itself as the beam comes out in a more narrow fashion."

Richtofen felt almost offended that this young brown-noser would attempt to suggest changes to his invention, yet the idea seemed viable and beneficial to the project still in its prototyping stages. Not to mention the prospect of Maxis' artificial Vril being recreated for projects at Griffin Station.

"A bold proposition, Doctor. I will give it some thought in the future. We cannot be too hasty with new iterations as I am still trying to convince Doctor Maxis to have it mass-produced."

"I am certain he will convince the Reichstag to begin ordering their own soon enough. I have sung my own praises of the design to him."

Richtofen patted Wagner on his mildly irritating shoulder, putting on his toothiest grin.

"I thank you for that. Shall we begin?"

"Yes, of course! Shall I... "

He motioned to the table where he had been viewing the blueprints, prepared to clean the station.

"Nein, I will handle it und meet you there. You should prepare the generator."

"Yes, Doctor."

As Wagner headed out of the doorway, Richtofen gathered the bits of waste paper and placed them into a bin. He then took the DG-2 blueprints and Wagner's drawn component, placing it within the folded schematic and into the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet before closing it. For good measure, he took a combination lock from a table drawer, locking the cabinet.

In the drawer containing the combination lock, Richtofen found his screwdriver set. Odd. He did not remember placing it there. He had been forgetting many things as of late.

He donned a heavy winter coat over his ordinary lab coat, then left the small room into the bitter cold walkway towards the front-facing bastion of Griffin Castle. He ascended a small set of stone stairs as the testing area came into view. In the center of the bastion was a large generator with a control pad and energy-monitoring dial. Near his own set of stairs and the opposite end of the bastion were two massive metal rods, and at the end of each were metallic spherical structures with what looked like protruding coils around them. These rods were directly connected to the generator where Doctor Wagner stood, checking the components and circuitry. He spoke to Richtofen, now approaching him, "It is a shame our work is used for death and destruction. This research could completely change the way we utilize electricity."

For once, Edward found himself admiring the youth within his field. Smirking to himself silently and approaching the command module of the generator.

"Is the device ready?"

"Yes, Doctor."

"Und the targets?"

"Prepared for testing, Doctor."

Aside from Wagner were several stacked cages. Inside them were doves, cooing and distressed by the intense cold of the mountain tops. He took one from the cage, holding it in his two hands to keep it from flying away.

Edward activated the device, listening to the humming and buzzing as it sent electricity through to the rods. At the ends, the coils were transferring electricity between one another at a high, visible rate. Edward twisted a knob on the device to switch its setting from Protect to Destroy.

This contraption was known around the castle as the Death Ray, and was commissioned by Maxis in response to Nikola Tesla's research. The primary purpose of the device is defense, and its Protection Mode has proven to be effective in defending the small area from aerial threats as large as planes to small bombs. Anything to cross within its dome of protection will be bombarded with high-voltage electricity effectively turning the target into dust. The Destroy Mode is, however, untested. It requires more precise targeting from the command module at the generator, but would allow for attacks at a longer distance, effectively turning any military base into an impenetrable fortress.

Edward donned a set of protective eye-wear, nodding to Wagner to release the target. Wagner whispered to the bird, "Think happy thoughts, little one... It will be quick," before letting it fly directly between the two large rods into the air.

On the command module, the dove appeared as a red blip, shrinking as it flew away. Edward locked onto its position, training the device on it before hitting a key to destroy the target.

The generator began to buzz and whir, before going silent as the bird shrunk in the distance. Confused, Edward pressed it again, before the target disappeared from the screen.

A voice taunted Edward's mind once again, "You continue to struggle with work far below your qualifications. Why is that, Edward?"

"Oh, for the love of-"

He slammed his closed fist into the side of the device, causing the screen to blur and the machine to grow louder in volume. Looking at the rods, he noticed that a larger concentration of electricity was gathering and beginning to chain between the two rods at a quickening rate.

Wagner stared directly at one of these rods, muttering, "Doctor... "

Intensity growing, Richtofen panicked, attempting to power down the device as the energy continued to grow. He called out to Wagner, "Get down!"

The two men dove to the ground, their faces down but clearly able to see the growing light from the two coils reflecting off the stone below. They braced after a quick and deafening clash of sound and a heat so strong it canceled out the cold temperatures around them. Edward experienced a feeling like he had never felt before: A force being shot through his entire body.

The event now over, he opened his eyes once more, his vision normal and now he was able to see Doctor Wagner, still braced on the ground. He heard, however, a loud, irritating screech like that of a train coming to a halt. It weakened its intensity, and soon his hearing was completely normal. Edward rose to his feet, without any physical problems. There seemed to be nothing wrong on the surface, but something had most definitely changed.

As he hypothesized the cause and the impact of the event, he realized what had changed. He could finally think straight, formulate clear and concise ideas, remember his childhood, his education, the meal he had the previous night. His mind was cleared... of them. The voices seemed to be gone.

Edward clutched his head, looking to his surroundings: the castle, Doctor Wagner, the village at the base of the mountain. His connection to all of these things felt so distant, like he was being kept away from them for so long.

Wagner appeared positively frightened, looking to Richtofen for guidance. Richtofen offered a smile in return, beginning to laugh so hard there were tears in his eyes. He pumped his fist into the air, calling into the morning sky, "YOU NO LONGER CONTROL ME! DAMN YOU, ALL OF YOU!" Richtofen began to laugh into the morning sky.

"Doctor Richtofen... ?"

Their attention was soon after drawn to the sound of a gunshot, echoing within the stony walls of the castle intermixed with a wail from one of Maxis' undead creations. Both men at the bastion were unsure of what to do, but a cry out in pain drove Wagner to rush for the door. Richtofen hesitated, looking out onto the clear, light blue sky above.

Wagner called out, "Hurry, Doctor Richtofen!"

He followed behind, passing by the power generator and a set of knight statues, turning left onto a scaffolding overlooking the main laboratories. All of the monitors and machines appeared powered down due to the blast at the roof. Near the entrance leading to the courtyard was the source of the pain, a German soldier, leg bleeding onto the floor, surrounded by three others as well as the corpses of three undead.

There were no other scientists in sight, and upon spotting Wagner and Richtofen, one of the soldiers stood up and called to them, "He needs medical attention!"

Wagner turned to Richtofen, "We have to help him."

"We... I don't know if-"

Wagner begged, "Please, Doctor. We may have inadvertently caused this outbreak."

The soldiers were lifting their wounded comrade, awaiting Richtofen's instruction.

With some anxiety passing, Edward regained his composure, directing the men behind him.

"Get him to the living quarters. I have supplies there. Schnell!"

He turned and jogged to the ornate, wooden hallway between a living area, an office space, and Samantha's personal bedroom. Edward headed into the office space, the tables covered in gadgets and tools. He gathered a bone saw, bandages, gauze, alcohol, and any other tools that could potentially be needed. Meanwhile, Wagner was assisting the soldiers through the hall.

Edward searched around the room, realizing the tables were not large enough to operate on the wound. As the soldiers grew closer, he beckoned them to follow him past a bookcase into Samantha's room. Scattered on the floor were toys, and on the walls a child's drawings. Edward grabbed the teddy bear sitting on the pillow, tossing it aside into a toy chest, and removing the sheets from the mattress of her bed.

Wagner now realizing his intentions, asked Richtofen directly, "Are you sure that's a good idea-"

The Germans had dropped the writhing, pained man onto the bed, splattering the mattress with blood as they lifted his legs up. The man cried out, "Mutti!"

Richtofen hastily investigated the wound, replying to Wagner, "She hates this room anyway... und I'm sure Maxis will buy her a new mattress. Wagner, keep his legs still!"

One of the soldiers asked Richtofen, "What do you intend to do?"

Richtofen ripped the pant leg away from the wounded leg and prepared the area for the operation.

"If I say it, he won't like it!" Edward looked into Wagner's eyes, now holding the man's squirming legs in place. "Just like Paris, ja?"

Wagner nodded, motioning the soldiers to hold the man's whole body in place.

Edward removed the bone saw from the table, lining it up above the knee where a chunk of flesh had been torn out. One of the men placed their hand over the patient's eyes as Richtofen inhaled deeply, exhaling as he pushed the saw into the man's flesh, cutting through skin and muscle.

The leg jerked slightly as its owner wailed in intense agony. Every man at the bed tried their best to keep him still and quiet as Richtofen concentrated on completing the operation.

Sweat was dripping from Edward's face as blood spurted from the wound and the saw reached bone. There was a disgusting crunch when it went through, and by then the man had gone silent. He had fainted from the intense pain.

All were silent as Edward efficiently dabbed the stump with peroxide and wrapped it in gauze.

"One of you get him some food und water for when he comes to. Keep an eye on him."

The sickened young men looked at each other, muttering in German, as one stayed at the bedside, while another left to the nearby office to find running water. The other approached Richtofen.

"Something deactivated the electronic locks und that is how they escaped. We tried to use the Electro-shock defenses, but they too were powered down."

"A power surge, it seems. Our hold on the test subjects must be greater in the future. I assume the rest have been dealt with?"

"They have been contained."

"Meaning?"

"They are all dead. We tried activating the alarms but, of course, they were down. It was just the four of us against them. We could not call for support from the village."

Edward placed his hand on his shoulder, trying to halfheartedly comfort him. Richtofen then turned to Wagner, letting out a breath of relief as the adrenaline drained.

"Just like old times, right?" Edward chuckled.

Wagner had his hands on a small chair which he leaned onto. "Unfortunately..."

Richtofen said, "We will have to find out what went wrong. The effect it seems to have had on electronics may prove a positive-"

Wagner interjected, "The experiment almost killed someone."

"'Almost' being key, Wagner. There was no way we could have predicted this result."

Wagner shook his head before placing his arms at his side and heading for the door.

"I will inform Doctor Maxis of what happened. He needs to know."

He left the room, shutting a wooden door behind him and leaving Richtofen to stand over the unconscious man and his comrades. He felt a hint of anger swirling through his thoughts; Thinking of Maxis meddling with his work, halting his progress, taking credit for his achievements.

Behind him, near the bookcase, a lamp that was previously turned off lit up, illuminating the area. Richtofen looked at it, jerking his head around as he heard a familiar whisper in his mind.

"We will not leave, Edward. We will be here forever..."

Chapter 20: Uniform

Exclusion Zone, Griffin Station, Mare Crisium, Moon

Dr. Baron Schuster

December 8th, 1942

Assigned to a post he could not leave, Doctor Schuster had found himself engrossed in a text-based adventure on the computer screen before him. Doctor Hoch, a man similar in age to Schuster, designed a game in his free time that can be played on Group 935's systems where the user must type out an action for a character to take after being presented with a prompt. The setting for the story is in a mansion filled with undead and the player must find a way out. Schuster continued to find himself stuck in the labyrinthine corridors of the mansion only to be eaten. Still, there was little else he could do outside of the game.

Doctor Groph had most of the scientists, including the head technician of Griffin Station, Doctor Bauman, working on Project 87: A wonder weapon project using Maxis' experimental Vril substance that Richtofen had managed to get a sample of. With Bauman being used to run diagnostics during the experiments, Schuster was the only scientist with enough knowledge about the MPD to watch over it.

Since they had begun sacrificing prisoners to the tank attached to the MPD, it has been emitting an enormous amount of energy, overloading any electronics directly connected. It appears that with the energy going unused inside the tank, the pyramid begins to push this energy out into the air, damaging electronics over time and creating copious amounts of static electricity. The architects and engineers were attempting to formulate a system of some sort to send this energy into space, but this may not be possible without completely exposing the lab to the vacuum. The structure encompassing the Exclusion Zone was designed to be able to open to the vacuum in the event of contamination of the Oxygen supply, however doing so periodically was not practical as the lab would need to be cleared of vital equipment or it would be sucked out into space.

An undead ghoul approaches you from down the hall. It snarls and bounds towards you with its rotting, filthy hands poised to tear you apart.

Schuster typed one character at a time on the keypad: 'Run Away'

You run backwards the way you came, passing a suspiciously crooked painting. You see a zombie coming directly at you, its putrid jaws preparing to take a bite.

"No, no... " He typed: 'Attack'.

Choose your weapon. You have: Butcher's Knife, Bolt-Action Rifle.

'Bolt-Action Rifle'.

You pull the trigger. Click. No bullets. The zombie pounces, tearing you apart.

You failed to escape the mansion. Would you like to try again? Y/N.

"Damn, damn, damn!" Schuster placed his hands on his head, shaking in disapproval. "How could I have no ammunition? I thought I grabbed the box of bullets in the main hall! Infernal game!"

Schuster rubbed his eyes and checked the clock mounted on the wall. Three hours alone, with no end in sight.

Gathering his composure again, Schuster closed the program, prepared to look over inventory sheets for the third time, when he heard the low rumbling of the cargo elevator to his right. Schuster was not aware of anyone scheduled to be arriving at the station at this time. He paced towards the entrance to the tunnel system, his knees aching from standing still at the computer system for so long.

A few moments later, in walked a man carrying a crate which obscured his face. He wore black military pants and a tannish-gray uniform with a red armband, on it a swastika. On the mysterious head was a German military hat marked with the eagle emblem of the Wehrmacht. Schuster was prepared to call security to deal with this stranger, only for him to place down the crate with his black leather gloves and reveal the familiar face of Doctor Richtofen.

"Edward?"

Richtofen grinned with a friendly gesture to come closer for a hug. Confused but relieved all the same, Schuster came closer, wrapping his arms around his colleague and patting him on the back. He felt a sharpness in his chest from a set of medals and an iron cross on Richtofen's outfit. There was a patch with the name 'Amsel' above the breast pocket.

"Edward... Where did you find this... uniform?"

"Isn't it sophisticated und stylish?" He chuckled, "Do you remember General Amsel? Wait, of course you don't, you haven't been to Earth in quite some time, eh-heh. Anyhow, I got to know General Amsel while I was in France, und we hit it off so to speak. This is his old officer's uniform."

"That was rather kind of him to give it to you."

"Nein, nein, it was the Reichstag who sent it to me. As it turns out he was shot by snipers in Stalingrad in September. Boom! Right through the head." He motioned a gun going off near his temple and the jerking back of his head from impact.

Still confused, Schuster inquired, "Why exactly did you receive the uniform rather than... his family?"

"This is quite amusing, actually. It turns out he wanted me to have it if he ever passed... because I was one of his best friends!" Edward began to cackle and slammed his fist into the table out of mocking jest, "We knew each other for, what, four weeks before he left? Oh, that is rich… "

Schuster shuddered as Richtofen guffawed, his laugh echoing throughout the area.

Schuster asked, "Do you think, perhaps, they wanted you to have it as a sort of keepsake to remind you of the departed Amsel?"

Richtofen wiped away a tear before replying, "That is most likely the case, but why waste such a prestigious uniform by letting it gather dust on the shelf? Nein, the SS are all brainwashed, power-hungry animals, but they know a thing or two about style und presentation... Mein Gott, it fits me so perfectly!"

Richtofen looked at his arms, inside the jacket, at his pants, and at his chest, bobbing side to side, causing the medals to clash with one another. He took notice of the patch that read 'Amsel' and reached for his satchel wrapped around his body, removing his Hitler Youth knife and cutting away at the patch. It came off cleanly as Edward carelessly tossed it away and cut any loose threads to ensure the uniform was in immaculate condition.

"Ah, I've been meaning to remove that. What do you think of the medals, Doctor?" Richtofen pointed to a dangling iron cross, "This one here was for bravery. It might just be mein favorite. It's a little rusted, perhaps it is older... This one- "

Schuster interjected, nodding towards the box that Richtofen had brought along, "The uniform is impressive, Doctor. But, what is it you've brought with you?"

Edward smiled and unlocked the box using the keypad at the face towards him. "You will be excited when you see this, Baron... ta daaa!"

Inside the box were four bottles with screw-on caps, filled with liquid and each a different color: Red, blue, green, and orange. On the faces of the bottles were stickers with unique designs and the names of each liquid: Juggernog Soda, Revive Soda, Speed Cola, and Double Tap Root Beer.

Schuster hastily grabbed the bottle of Double Tap Root Beer, unscrewing the cap and wafting the scent of the liquid to his nostrils. "It even smells of root beer! Do they work?"

"Tests prove they are nearly perfected. Double-Tap allows for quicker neural synapses und thus faster muscle movements und finger dexterity. Juggernog is shown to increase the consumer's strength three-fold, und increase toughness of the skin at a molecular level."

Schuster ogled at the beverages, "Just as I envisioned… "

He reached for the bottle of Speed Cola, before Richtofen motioned him not to.

"I would be careful mit the Speed Cola. I can't say for certain, but the ingredient used to enhance the subject's reflexes may also rot the mind. Test subjects showed memory loss over time."

"What about Revive? Is it able to heal tearing of the skin?"

"Any minor lacerations, ja. They still have not quite nailed the taste, however… "

"These bottles... are they mass-producing Perk-a-Colas already?"

"Not quite 'mass'-production, but dispensers are being sent to Group 935 und Division 9 facilities for further testing und review. Apparently Doctor Maxis is having quite a hard time explaining the very concept to the old crones in the Reichstag."

Schuster stared longingly at the stickers placed on the bottles, before placing them back into the box and checking the monitor for any signs of activity from the MPD. Nothing.

Richtofen stood before him, arms behind his back, raising an eyebrow at Schuster.

"You're welcome, by the way. It wasn't exactly easy to acquire these samples."

"Thank you, Doctor Richtofen. I will discover the chemical composition of each one when I find the time."

Schuster did not even lift his head from the monitor as he spoke, before starting up the mansion game again.

Unsatisfied, Richtofen leaned over to put himself in Schuster's view.

"Are you being... obtuse because you are still frustrated with me regarding the MPD? Because of what we did to those prisoners?"

"I have nothing further to say on the matter."

"Oh... really? Is that so? Because Doctor Groph told me you were moaning und whining about it for weeks... He has moved on... I have moved on, so why can't you?"

"Because the tanks are leaking energy! The... atrocity we committed was for nothing. We still have made no progress in opening this magic gateway to the Aether you believe it to be… "

"These things need time, Doctor Schuster. You know that. Und how can you say it was for nothing? We are inching ever closer to stepping foot into another dimension! If there was any other way, I would have never ordered their deaths! Do you think I wanted to sacrifice twenty-six men?"

"Of course not, Edward... but we do not know that this was the only way. I cannot move past this as easily as you can. You come in here, gallivanting in your Nazi's uniform, acting as if none of this happened, but it did!"

"You don't understand, Baron. We cannot waste any more time trying to find alternatives when we know something will work! There is such little time… "

"What do you mean there is little time?"

"Forget about it... I thought you cared about the cause, about a better world!"

"I still do."

"If you are still loyal... then you will continue to work on unlocking the pyramid, without question. The road is long und dark... but I know where we are going."

Schuster shook his head, "I believe in you Edward. I know you are not a bad person. But you just cannot expect me to overlook the darkness we leave in our wake."

"You can look wherever you choose, as long as we are moving forward."

Richtofen adjusted the neckline of his uniform, heading for the door.

"I will be departing to Der Riese with Doctor Wagner soon... Doctor Groph will be taking over for me at the castle while I am away... und if I can still trust you, you will be in charge of Griffin Station."

Schuster returned his gaze to the computer screen, replying, "You can trust me. Whether or not you will is your decision."

The door slid open and Richtofen had left the room back towards the cargo elevator. As he heard it going up, Schuster paced towards the cave holding the MPD, searching his thoughts. Edward had hurt him deeply and seemed to show no remorse for his actions. He was never one to show any sign of regret, but looking into his eyes, Schuster saw nothing human about them.

He paced around the pyramid, his legs trembling from a combination of stress and low blood sugar. He peered into the void, spotless face of the pyramid to see his own distorted reflection; Not the young man from University anymore.

Schuster looked down towards the base marked with ancient cuneiform. Performing his own research, he had been unable to find any trace of known symbols anywhere except Der Eisendrache and in relics recovered at the mysterious Angolan dig site. Schuster was not one to believe in destiny, but it is awfully coincidental that Richtofen ended up finding a Vril artifact here on the Moon, only to take the lead at another research station with relics of a similar origin a short time later.

Schuster often wonders how Richtofen came upon the knowledge he holds on the Ancients and their technology. He seems to know more than can be interpreted from the various artifacts discovered by Group 935. These artifacts may truly be Vril in nature, but whether or not Groph or Richtofen actually know how to interpret them is uncertain. For all Schuster knows, they could be meddling with a destructive force the likes of which are hitherto undreamt of. All he could do was have faith... and trust in his friend.

Schuster took note of another corner of the base of the pyramid, also adorned with the circular top seen on the tank they had filled. It had been theorized this was an alternate energy tank along with the other two near the back wall. It then dawned on Schuster that perhaps all four must be filled to be able to unlock the gateway. He then shuddered at the thought of over a hundred men killed to achieve this goal. It may not be wise to clue Groph in on this theory until an alternative method is found, if there is one.

Schuster moved himself back towards the front of the pyramid, looking into the panel where the Vril Sphere remained. He dipped his head, thinking of the many men killed and buried beneath outside the station. He grew angry, furious he allowed this to happen. He took a rock from the ground, tossing as hard as he could into the blackness of the pyramid. It reflected off with a loud clang that echoed for a few seconds, leaving no mark.

Doctor Schuster stepped back, sitting on the ground to try and calm himself. After a moment, he removed a pen and his diary from his lab coat, preparing to write of his day. This was until he heard something he would truly never understand.

It was a voice, somewhat quiet, but able to be heard over the hum of the machine. It was distinctly German and coming from the pyramid itself, echoing throughout the cave.

"You will be spending a majority of your time with me, overseeing the mining operation und working with his designs."

Schuster was absolutely gobsmacked as he realized this voice was that of Richtofen, but much more calm and reserved than usual.

After a pause, the voice returned.

"They discovered the dig site in France as they pushed forward through the front. Doctor Maxis says it is the largest supply of Element 115 in recorded history."

Schuster was now sure it was Edward with the mention of Doctor Maxis. He was unsure, however, of what he meant about a dig site in France. He had heard no such news of an Element 115 deposit there, and if that were the case, Doctor Maxis should not be struggling to find more 115 as he currently is.

"Doctor Maxis? Yes, yes, I am an admirer of his work as well. He is a great man. He mentored me und took me under his wing when I was at mein lowest… "

Baron searched his thoughts for an answer to this strange voice which must surely be a hallucination. Richtofen once said that he had not met Doctor Maxis until he was formally invited to Group 935. What Edward is saying here is impossible, if he had not been lying to Schuster. He began to think this voice was Edward speaking to someone, possibly Doctor Wagner, and he has been actually working with Doctor Maxis on a project he is keeping from the scientists at Griffin Station... or perhaps just Doctor Schuster. This theory was torn apart, however, as the voice uttered its last words.

"I am just as excited as you are. You should come meet the others before we depart. My friend Doctor Wagner has been looking forward to meeting you... Welcome to Group 935, Doctor Schuster..."

Schuster backed away from the pyramid into the computer room. His world was spinning as he tried to process the meaning of the sounds he was hearing. They must be auditory hallucinations, that is all. Perhaps he is going mad. Could there be another Doctor Schuster, coincidentally? What are the odds?

The room was completely silent but racing thoughts passed through Schuster's head. The silence seemed to fuel this mental haze, so he located a gramophone near the corner of the room, playing the recording, a piece by Bach. The music seemed to calm his nerves as he brought up the vitals of the MPD on the computer screen. Searching the log of power levels, he noticed a substantial increase over the past few minutes he had been within the room.

Doctor Schuster stared into the pyramid several feet away, vowing to stay as far from it as possible in the future. Something is not quite right on this station.

Chapter 21: Raising Sam

Laboratories, Der Riese, near Breslau

Dr. Edward Richtofen

December 14th, 1942

"I must admit, Doctor Richtofen, when you are right, you are indubitably right!" Doctor Wagner was marveling at what they had created.

Richtofen grinned, "He only needs a few minor finishing touches und you will need to record the lines I've written to give it a voice. Then... he will be perfect."

On the table in front of Doctor Wagner and Doctor Richtofen was a stuffed monkey made from the body of a real primate, its eyes replaced with painted marbles and mouth made to be protruding from the head with over-sized fake teeth. It rested in a seated position, holding between its hands a set of small cymbals, and it wore a blue striped cloth shirt with tan pants. On its head was a plastic cup painted blue and marked with the Group 935 insignia by Doctor Wagner. There was a metal crank on its left side, that when twisted would cause the monkey to begin clanging its cymbals together and chattering its teeth.

Doctor Wagner responded, "I will as soon as I am able to. The eyes and the teeth are quite... disturbing. That is only appropriate, however, given its purpose."

"I think he is quite an adorable little specimen... I don't know what Samantha could not see in you, little one... "

Richtofen prodded the lifeless toy's nose, leaning in close.

Wagner said, "The cymbals in combination with the music and the voice recordings may be able to hold the undead's attention indefinitely. I am thrilled to begin testing... How about you, Doctor?"

Richtofen adjusted the simian's hat to be slightly tilted on its head, before rubbing his finger along the underside of its chin as if to scratch it.

"Ja, ja. But, come to think of it, I feel... it is missing something."

Wagner pondered, "Hm, well the gramophone in the lab was playing at a much lower decibel level when it attracted the undead-"

"What if... we connected an explosive to the crank? Ja!"

"An... explosive? Would the device destroying itself not defeat the purpose of distracting the undead?"

"Not if the dynamite was set to explode right as the monkey completes its performance!"

"But that would kill the undead when they come close enough, surely?"

"Precisely, Doctor Wagner! What if the test subjects are let loose at the castle again, und there is no power for the Electro-Shock Defenses? This little monkey would make short work of them!"

Wagner raised his eyebrow, possibly taken aback by the proposal.

"It seems a little crude... but I like the idea of a method for dealing with another outbreak that does not require power. For now we should test its effects on subjects we don't intend on blowing up."

Richtofen picked up the monkey, holding it in his hands as he viewed it from all angles.

"Ja, you are absolutely right, Doctor. Work now, fun later."

From across the room there was an attempted twisting of the locked door handle, followed by a groan and a pressing of keys on a keypad. The door came open swiftly revealing an irate Doctor Maxis. His eyes were bloodshot and grey beard unkempt. He walked in the room with great stride and purpose, arms at his side and gaze firmly set on the pair of scientists.

Richtofen twisted his body towards Maxis, before turning his smile to a frown as he looked into the eyes of a man he so despised.

Maxis gazed into the lifeless eyes of the monkey in Richtofen's hands, cocking his head and asking shortly, "What on Earth is that?"

Doctor Wagner replied, "It is a little device Doctor Richtofen and I have been working on. When we were performing the weapon tests you commissioned, I accidentally turned on the gramophone in the lab. The test subject grew restless and focused its entire attention on the music, paying no mind to us as we came closer. We think that certain frequencies may be the key-"

Maxis cut in, "The key to controlling them? Surely you understand that is nonsense, Doctor Wagner. Any creature able to sense vibrations would pay attention to a loud noise."

Wagner retorted, "This was different, Doctor Maxis. It seemed completely entranced by it-"

Maxis ignored Wagner as he stared at Richtofen, waving his hand as if to dismiss the monkey's existence.

"I presume this was your idea, Edward? It looks an awful lot like the disturbed 'toy' you gave to Samantha for her birthday last year."

Richtofen replied, "That's because it is, Doctor Maxis. She did not seem to like it very much, if I am remembering correctly, which I am. You always say to never waste our resources, do you not? Its clothing is even made from Samantha's old bed-sheets we... ahem, soiled several months ago."

"Why do you continue to disobey my instructions time and time again? It seems no matter the partner, you find a way to derail our important work."

Wagner interjected between them, "I promise, Doctor, this has not slowed our progress on perfecting the matter transference device for human teleportation nor our research into controlling the undead."

Maxis spoke more calmly to Wagner, before redirecting the conversation to Richtofen's failings, "I wish that were true, Doctor Wagner, but Doctor Richtofen has made no significant progress in months! He spoke so highly of teleportation three years ago." Turning to Richtofen, Maxis asked, "What happened to your ambition, Edward?"

Richtofen dedicated every iota of his being towards maintaining his professional disposition, stating, "I am very rarely wrong, Doctor Maxis, but perhaps I was then. I was a younger, more foolish man, after all. We can't all foresee the future. We will be returning to MTD testing very soon, once I have ein proper idea of how we should proceed."

"You should be working towards perfecting teleportation now, Edward. Manufacturing weapons is only the first step in impressing the Reichstag. They demand more from men of our intellect. I expect more from my scientists."

Edward felt slightly light headed from a combination of his own anger, and the anger of the voices in his head, chattering and screaming all at once, "How can he speak to us this way? Show him what you are capable of Edward!END HIS WRETCHED LIFE!"

He placed a hand on his head to soothe his nerves, putting the monkey down on the table as he did.

"Why don't we all just calm down, und use our inside voices!"

Wagner and Maxis were taken aback and silent for a moment. Maxis cocked his head, stating, "No one here is yelling except for you, Edward!"

"Of course. I knew that."

"You've become increasingly erratic since I've assigned you to the castle... If you feel it is too much responsibility-"

"Nein, nein, of course not! Believe me, the work at Griffin Castle is proceeding better than expected. Just ask Doctor Wagner."

Wagner nodded to Maxis, "It was a rocky beginning, but Doctor Richtofen has proven an excellent administrator."

"Nevertheless, it is important that your role is taken seriously, Edward. You cannot waste time on these... insufferable little projects that seem to be aiming to irritate me... Tell me, Doctor, who have you delegated power to at the castle while you are away?"

Richtofen shifted from one foot to another.

"Hm, well... let me see... Well, I told Doctor Groph to make sure everyone kept up with the agenda und to listen for any calls... but I prefer a more... 'open' structure when it comes to science."

Maxis added, "And so your scientists work with no direction, no leadership."

"I lead them, Doctor Maxis. Believe me, they know who is in charge. I am trying to create a more creative environment for discovery where mein scientists can feel trusted to complete the task at hand."

"How wonderful. Do they eat their lunches before or after naptime?"

"Ah, the sarcastic tone: The very inspiration for mein own leadership style!"

"My point is, Edward, that may work if you are supervising children, but these are men. Men with agendas and egos. If you let them wander freely they are sure to see you as a weak leader and fall back on their work ethic. I have been leading Group 935 for over ten years now; I know poor leadership when I see it."

Richtofen could not look him in the eye for fear of what he might do or what the voices may say. He said, "I understand, Doctor. I will work to improve... by your example."

The simple, guided response seemed to be enough to calm Maxis, who seemed prepared to fire back at any of Richtofen's retorts.

"Thank you, Edward. I know, in time, you will be a great leader... Speaking of children, I have an enormous favor to ask of you."

"This arrogant being asks something of you, Edward? How will you make him regret this transgression? HOW WILL YOU TEAR DOWN HIS EGO, BEFORE SLITTING HIS PETULANT THROAT?"

Edward attempted to stow the voices, patting the side of his head, before nodding, "Ja, ja, what would you have me do?"

Maxis placed his hands behind his back. "The Reichstag wishes for me to report to a location... near Berlin. I will be staying there for an extended amount of time to attempt to take control of the undead and forge their army. General Lehmkuhl has recently informed me that I will not be able to bring my daughter with me."

"You need ein... babysitter?"

"Someone to keep watch over her for however long I am gone. It could be a few weeks to, in the worst case, a couple of years."

"Could you not find anyone else?"

"Doctor Porter will be running the organization here at Der Riese and will be much too busy. Others that I would ask, well, they are coming with me. You and Doctor Wagner are the only people I can... trust with this task."

Richtofen was beside himself, "What about family?"

"Edward... you know there are none left."

"Oh of course... surely Sophia-"

"She is accompanying me on the trip."

Richtofen began to grin, "Ah! So that's what this is about! The honeymoon phase... "

Maxis seemed prepared to lash out, as Wagner extended his hand for a handshake with him to halt any further bickering. "You can trust us, Doctor. We will split responsibilities between ourselves and ensure Samantha is well cared for."

Maxis sighed, stepping back as he came dangerously close to confronting Richtofen physically. He shook Wagner's hand, before offering his own to Richtofen.

"Hans, do not allow Edward to relegate all responsibilities to you. Raising a child is a team effort, much like science, and perhaps Doctor Richtofen could learn a thing or two from her. She's become quite clever these last few months."

Richtofen accepted his hand, replying, "That is quite an endorsement coming from you, Ludvig. Just leave the instructions in my mailbox und we will handle it."

Edward returned his view to the table, taking a piece of clear tape to ensure the cymbal on the monkey's left hand was secure.

Maxis approached the table, pushing the monkey aside, "You two should return to your real projects. Work hours have begun."

Edward stared into Maxis' aged, blue eyes, noting the wrinkles all over his bald head and the crow's feet at the sides. He continued to stare with a smoldering fury. Voices whispered at the volume of a blow torch to Richtofen's ear, dulling any of his senses but his sight of the pompous, despicable Doctor.

Maxis raised his hand, placing it on Richtofen's shoulder. Edward averted his gaze from the eyes towards the hand. The voices passed through his head truly awful, wicked thoughts.

Richtofen took his own hand, patting Maxis on his shoulder, as he began to grin and laugh. "Very well, Doctor Maxis. Doctor Wagner, let's begin."

Doctor Wagner stood two feet away, a clipboard in his hands which he held tightly as he viewed the events that had transpired. He weakly replied, "I will... set up the testing area."

Wagner approached the MTD prototype covered in a blue tarp, uncovering it before ensuring it was being powered correctly. Richtofen continued to chuckle, the tension now gone; Maxis was less amused.

Doctor Maxis pointed towards the monkey on the table, speaking to Richtofen, "Do not let my daughter see that thing. And be sure it is not within Fluffy's reach."

"Oh scheiße, I forgot about the mutt..."

"I will have Sophia give you everything you need. Taking care of Fluffy will be crucial as well. We need her to produce more young for testing. Samantha does not need to know what happens to her puppies."

Richtofen lifted the military cap from his head, brushing his hair back before replacing it.

"Before you leave Doctor, what has the Reichstag said about the Wunderwaffe?"

Maxis turned towards the door, brushing his words aside, "I have told you before, Edward, discussion on the matter is ongoing."

"Surely you can give me ein update? I am ready to begin phase three, nein, phase four, within two weeks if they will begin mass production of the DG-2."

"I will update you when there is something to update. If you put as much worry into the progress of the MTD as you did your Wunderwaffe, we would be on the Moon by now!" Maxis reached for the door, stepping halfway through as he left one last remark of frustration, "And lastly, Edward, take that foolish uniform off and put on a lab coat. It is incredibly unprofessional."

The door slammed shut, knocking over an empty flask from the table onto the floor, shattering it.

Wagner shook his head, "My god, I've never seen Doctor Maxis be such a... a..."

Richtofen suggested, "Jerk?"

"Yes. It is very unlike him. I will clean the glass, Doctor."

Wagner reached for a broom and dustpan, heading to the door before sweeping up shards of glass into a bin. He returned to Edward who was rubbing his temples to calm his nerves.

"For the record, Edward, I like the uniform. It is... uh, stoic. Much like you. And with the pockets, highly functional."

Edward nodded and smiled at Wagner, "Thank you. Doctor Maxis has good intentions a majority of the time... but he tends to let his emotions drive his decisions."

Wagner rubbed his hands together before picking up a pair of goggles from the shelf.

"I was always taught in my studies that emotion is best kept out of the lab. Science and feelings... they don't mix well."

Richtofen chuckled, taking a pair of his own goggles, "An excellent guideline to work under, I find... who taught you this wisdom?"

Doctor Wagner and Richtofen were lifting a pig body into the test chamber, lowering it in the center.

"A professor at Heidelberg. You knew I went there, right?"

"Ja, ja, I remember you said that."

"It was... ah, Professor Schussler!"

"Schussler? I remember a Schussler in my studies. Surely not the same one... "

"I believe Schussler's father used to teach before he passed."

"Ja, I remember him. He always wore these ridiculous bow-ties... "

"His son must have inherited his wardrobe, he does as well."

"Really?" Richtofen chuckled, "What a strange man. I'll have to tell Doctor Schuster... "

Wagner did not seem to notice the mention of Schuster, preparing his and Richtofen's ear plugs.

Richtofen added for good measure, "If I can ever... contact him..."

The testing area was now prepared, and Wagner had placed the recording device on the table.

"Should I begin recording, Doctor?"

Richtofen input a series of false settings into the keypad of the MTD to ensure the test's failure.

"Nein, nein. It is only the first test of the day. Why waste the tape?"

"Understood, Doctor. I am ready."

"Commence test number... erm, what are we on now?"

"335, Doctor."

"Ja... 335. Go!"

Wagner flipped the switch, causing the teleporter's door to shut and the chamber to fill with smoke. The lights flickered as power surged into the massive, bell-shaped device. After a few moments, the test chamber opened, dispelling smoke into the room. The two doctors approached.

The carcass appeared completely unchanged, not even singed by the radiation.

As Wagner turned around to head back to the testing area, Richtofen alerted him, "Wait! Doctor Wagner, I think I saw the schwein move!"

"What?" Wagner turned back around, carefully approaching the test chamber, as Richtofen quickly jabbed his pointer finger into Wagner's ribs, frightening him and sending him reeling back. "Kidding!"

As Wagner understood it was in jest, he began to laugh with Richtofen. The two shared a moment chuckling, as Richtofen headed back for the control panel.

"Ready, Doctor." Wagner placed his hands with all of his fingers on the table spread apart, which Richtofen noted. Edward fiddled with the control panel as he said, "I'll simply adjust a knob or two... begin test 33...7."

"Six."

Wagner flipped the switch, initiating the same teleportation sequence. The chamber filled with smoke and a flash of light before opening once more. This time, however, the pig was nowhere to be found; Neither in the chamber nor the receiving pad off to the right.

The two scientists crouched near the chamber, looking for any sign of its remains: Nothing.

Richtofen put his finger to his lips, remarking, "I wonder where it went..." He, however, knew fully well the carcass had been transported to a random point in space.

Wagner sighed, "I suppose I will fetch another."

"Thank you, Hans. You are an enormous help."

The two rose up, Richtofen heading back to the table as Wagner left the lab.

With Wagner gone, Edward took the opportunity he had been waiting for. From his breast pocket he removed a small container filled with baking powder and a brush.

He leaned close to the table, dumping the contents of the container over the spot Wagner had placed his hands moments earlier. Edward brushed the powder over the fingerprints creating a white pattern copy of them. He took a piece of clear tape, placing it over the two index finger prints so that the white powder stuck to the tape. Folding the tape over, he placed it onto a page in his diary.

Richtofen repeated the same process with the two thumb prints, quickly placing them aside the others, and with his fountain pen writing above them, "Wagner – Index and Thumbs"

Above his prints were both hands of Maxis, the right hand of Porter, and, regrettably, the right hand of Schuster. Richtofen's own prints were also on the previous page for comparison.

He quickly shut the diary, placing it with his other belongings as Wagner pushed open the door and wheeled in another set of carcasses on a dolly.

As Wagner approached, Edward hastily wiped away the powder from the table, leaning over the spot he had worked.

"Doctor Wagner, I was thinking, why don't we eat lunch now, und then we can work on a full stomach, ja?"

"Hm... I did skip breakfast and this would allow us to work without interruption. A good idea, Doctor. I believe they are serving veal today."

As Wagner turned away towards the door, Richtofen placed the brush and opened powder container into his pocket before joining Wagner.

"They have veal every day... When are they bringing back the leberwurst? I was just starting to like it."

"Soon, hopefully. I've asked Maxis this numerous times to no avail."

"Typical. Oh, Doctor Wagner, about mein idea to strap a bomb to our monkey… "

***TOP SECRET***

***LEVEL 1 CLEARANCE EYES ONLY***

***DER RIESE "SERVANT" SAMPLE A91374***

What follows is a sample from the Der Riese project "Datenbediensteter" (translated: DATA SERVANT). Sample was acquired from CIA asset based out of Vozrozhdeniya in the Soviet Union and is translated from its original German below:

***SERVANT ENTRY A91374***

*Ludwig Maxis

*Personal file.

*The experiments continue

*And the Reichstag call it

*A success.

*But these creatures

*Cannot be controlled.

*Their minds are lost.

*They are automotons.

*This is what the Reichstag

*Wanted.

*Between the teleporters

*And our Armeeuntoten

*They believe the world

*Will be theirs.

*But the untoten cannot

*Be contained.

*It spreads far worse than

*Ever imagined.

*It will be the death

*Of us all.

***END FILE***

Chapter 22: Watched

Deutsches Sol Kino, Berlin, Nazi Germany

Dr. Ludvig Maxis

January 8th, 1943

Typically, Doctor Maxis would find the act of organizing his office a calming reprieve from the stress of scientific authority. Today, however, was the beginning of the long-dreaded Kino Project. The Reichstag had funneled a large helping of resources and time into repurposing a retired theater into a research facility with the primary goal of controlling the minds of the undead. Maxis knew, however, that even with such resources and brain-power, there may be no way to maintain control at all. He regretted ever bringing the idea of an undead army to the Reichstag in the first place. He had staked the livelihoods of all of his scientists, as well as Samantha's future, on performing a feat that may truly be impossible.

The Kino Facility is meant to be a secret from the majority of Group 935, and especially from the general population. Only those hand-selected by the Reichstag and Doctor Maxis should ever know of its existence. One such person was Sophia, Maxis' assistant who previously served as a secretary within the government. She had been helping Maxis set up his office with his personal belongings having now arrived. Now, however, she sat on his desk, legs crossed, speaking to Maxis as he was hastily placing files into his cabinet.

"This is a lovely change of scenery... I mean no offense, Ludvig, Der Riese was just so... lifeless. Concrete walls und dirt... so far from the city. Here we are so close to, well... everything!"

Maxis dabbed at the sweat on his forehead with a cloth, before kneeling down to place another group of files into place, sorted chronologically.

"I suppose. It is certainly much more lively here, especially at night. I'm finding it much harder to sleep."

Sophia hopped off of the table to her heeled feet, straightening out her dress as she did so.

"I'm sure you will find yourself acquainted with it soon. You do know I grew up in the city, don't you, Ludvig?"

Maxis locked away the rest of his files in the cabinet, before placing the cardboard box they had been transported in back onto a rolling cart.

"Yes, you've told me before. You've lived and worked here all of your life. It is a shade different from my own upbringing in the countryside. We had no night life except for the buzzing of insects. For the first fifteen years of my life, I only knew... perhaps a dozen people personally. Here, there are so many. I've shaken so many hands, had to remember so many names, and exchanged so many words. Sometimes I yearn for the simple life again."

Sophia stepped close to Maxis, closer than any professional relationship would entail. "We all wish to be young again, Doctor… "

Maxis began to push the cart to the door, stopping to look at Sophia. As they locked eyes, she averted hers, looking to the framed photos on Maxis' desk. One of Samantha on the day she was gifted Fluffy, another of Maxis with his departed wife, Hilda, pregnant with her unborn daughter.

Sophia spoke with coyness as Maxis pushed the cart out the door into the hallway, "I have an idea, why don't we... you und I, und perhaps a few others, go out on the town tonight? I think you would enjoy the experience, und your scientists deserve a reward for all their hard work, don't you think?"

Maxis imagined the satisfaction of a well-earned break after the long move from Der Riese to Berlin. The thought of spending just a night independent of Group 935's morbid research was so alluring that he was prepared to accept Sophia's offer. As he loomed over the enticing fantasy, Maxis came back down as he looked over Samantha's face in the frame sitting upon his desk. In the corner of the frame was a drawing by her from a young age, when he still had time to care for her. It was Ludvig and Samantha standing together outside of a house in a field, surrounded by flowers.

"We all deserve time away, Sophia, but now is not that time. The Reichstag needs this vital project to be complete before we can leave this facility. Do you not want to return home?"

Sophia shifted from one foot to another, visibly disappointed, "If I am being honest, Doctor, this place already feels like home."

Maxis was taken aback, "I see… On the other hand, I need to return to Samantha as soon as possible. She is coming to an age now where she will need her father around."

"I thought Doctor Richtofen was caring for her, no? She will be fine, Ludvig. I'm sure she will understand."

"Doctor Richtofen was my last choice. I can only hope Doctor Wagner can pick up the slack... Richtofen has become increasingly erratic and unpredictable."

"That's just your stress talking, Ludvig." She came closer to him to touch his shoulder as he pushed her away.

"Stressed does not begin to describe my state of mind. No, this is something more. The fate of my career... of all of our careers rests on my shoulders during this experiment. You've brought my newspapers, so surely you've seen the state of affairs on the Eastern front... I'm not afraid of what will happen if we do not create the army in time... but of how the world will react if we do."

"Ludvig... "

"You cannot begin to imagine it. What it is like to have every eye in the world watching over you, ready to determine your fate if you do not act as they want you to. I need to do as they say, Sophia, because I have promised them results in a timely manner. And yet you stand here, asking me to spend my time in nightclubs, wasting away while Samantha lies alone in her bed, wondering why her father abandoned her to tame monsters!"

"I just want to see you happy again... I'm sorry, Ludvig."

"Then continue to work diligently as I try to save Group 935... General Lehmkuhl will be here any minute to oversee the first round of tests. Be sure the others are ready before he arrives."

"Yes, Doctor... "

Spirit deflated, Sophia raced to the door, ducking her face down as she left the room. Maxis now stood alone to gather his thoughts and prepare himself for the day.

He never wished to hurt Sophia, or anyone for that matter, but she held a childish mindset without any pretense of responsibility to anyone. How could he blame her, however; She was significantly younger than him.

Maxis picked up the photograph of himself and Hilda, looking into Hilda's face and feeling somewhat confused. He realized with great sorrow that he was beginning to forget exactly how her face looked. After decades of loving her, it was like seeing her for the first time all over again. The memories flooded his mind as he remembered the contours of her face, the imperfections in her skin, and the exact shade of brown in her eyes.

The positive aura of her presence soon became clouded by an angry self-loathing in Maxis' mind as he questioned how he could forget her; How he could forget the bond they shared for all of those years.

Maxis set the frame back on the desk with care, shutting his eyes to hold back his frustrations. What would Hilda think if she knew Ludvig was attracted to his young assistant? What about the decades of unrequited, irrefutable love for one another? Could he ever love another? For all his achievements in scientific and medical research, these questions and those like it Ludvig would always defer to her. She always knew the right answer.

Perhaps Sophia is a distraction, her very presence an obstacle in the way of Ludvig's career. Ludvig pondered how to move forward. He could not send her away, not after all that she had seen, no matter how much Ludvig desired to. The only option now is for Ludvig to look past this animalistic attraction to Sophia, and focus on completion of the task at hand.

He peered wistfully at the clock above the door frame, noting the remaining two and a half minutes before the scheduled meeting with General Lehmkuhl. With it taking roughly a minute to reach the foyer entrance from his office, Maxis sat in his chair, closing his eyes as he counted down the minute and a half of free time.

Maxis tried to imagine himself and Samantha in a year's time. After completion of the Kino Project, Ludvig will sell his stake within Group 935 for a sizable sum of money and retire from science. Doctor Porter will throw Ludvig a large party in honor of his tenure at Group 935, as leadership of the organization will shift to him. Doctor Richtofen will be in attendance, and he will apologize for his behavior the past couple of years, thanking Ludvig for teaching him so much of what he knows. Under Ludvig's strict leadership, Richtofen created the first working teleporter for living beings, revolutionizing transportation for all mankind. After the war, when the dust settles, the teleporter will be what Group 935 is remembered for, for the rest of human history; Not the undead army. With his riches, Maxis will buy a modest house in the countryside, and with his connections to the Reichstag he will give Samantha access to the best private school near their home.

There, in that house, Ludvig will grow old, and Samantha will become a woman. Eventually, however, she must leave. Then, Ludvig will be alone. Alone again.

As the small hand of the clock struck nine, Maxis bolted out of his chair to the door, now leaving a minute later than he had planned. He nodded as professionally as possible to passing scientists and he navigated hallways to reach a waiting area. He turned left, descending a small set of stairs, before turning left to look out on the foyer. At the base of the staircase in the foyer was General Lehmkuhl, chatting with Sophia, two SS soldiers by his side. Maxis adjusted his tie before descending the staircase.

Lehmkuhl exclaimed, "Doktor!"

Maxis stretched out his hand, "Apologies for the delay, Generaloberst, there is no excuse... "

Lehmkuhl took Maxis' hand, and wagged his finger in response, "Ah, ah, there is no need to apologize. I know the work being done will take time, und I am sure you are a very busy man."

"Danke, Generaloberst."

Lehmkuhl looked down to his boots, shaking his head, as he corrected Doctor Maxis, "Actually, Doktor, it pains me to say this, but I have been promoted."

Maxis feigned shock, "Why should this pain you, General? If I had known of this promotion I would have congratulated you in my letters."

"Do you remember General Amsel? I believe you met him two years ago at the castle's opening, ja?"

"Yes, I do."

Lehmkuhl sighed, "Last September, he was killed by a Russian sniper in Stalingrad. Since then, I have taken his rank und will be taking his place on the Eastern Front."

Sophia shook her head in solidarity, Maxis doing the same, remarking, "Mein gott, I had no idea... Generalleutnant Amsel was a friend to all of us at Group 935. What an incredible loss for the Fatherland."

"Amsel was a greater man than any of us. We would not have the foothold in Russia we have today if it were not for his leadership... He was a brave man, inspecting every garrison near the front lines, knowing his soldiers by name... all to be killed by a coward from afar. Such is the way of Communists: Cheating, lying, backstabbing bastards."

"How might we contact his family? We would like to offer our condolences in any way we can."

"His... wife left him for America when he was sent to the Eastern Front. There is no one left for you to contact."

"If there is anything that we can do, we would be honored. Nothing, however, will amend such a tragedy."

"Indeed, Doktor... " Lehmkuhl patted Maxis on the shoulder, leaning in to speak, "However, your work here will ensure his actions were not in vain. The Soviets will not see your army coming, und General Amsel's work will be done... "

Doctor Maxis grinned, glancing to Sophia for reassurance as the thought of failure began to wrap its hands around his throat. He looked back to General Lehmkuhl, "He would be incredibly proud of what we have accomplished in the past two and a half weeks."

Lehmkuhl grinned, revealing the gap in his teeth, as he motioned towards the staircase with an open hand, "So, shall we look over your progress?"

"Of course. Sophia? Inform the stage crew that we are about to begin."

Sophia returned a grin, not one she would normally give to Maxis, but one of professional courtesy. "Yes, Doctor."

She turned, pacing towards the doorway beneath the stairs that led to the stage. Maxis led Lehmkuhl upwards towards the waiting area, and then left into a locked doorway. He knocked at the wooden door, revealing Doctor Thorsen who came to open it.

Maxis nodded to Thorsen as he entered the Projectionist's Room. Several shelves lined the walls, all brimming with film reels marked with Group 935's insignia. The projector sat near an open, rectangular window overlooking the stage and the arena filled with seats. Only a handful of the seats nearest the stage were occupied, with those in the seats sitting nearly completely still looking up at the screen. On the rolled-out projection screen was a repetitive video of a dot, disappearing and reappearing on different sections of the screen. Near the stage from a set of loudspeakers, a small beep would play every time the dot appeared on the screen.

General Lehmkuhl looked down on the occupants of the theater, squinting to look closer at their pale, gray heads, which seemed to dip left and right as the dot moved around the screen. Nearby the screen were multiple soldiers armed with MP-40's.

Lehmkuhl remarked, "Mein Gott, that sound... is incredibly annoying, is it not?"

Doctor Thorsen chimed in, "The sound is not pleasant, but it keeps them docile before we begin the daily exercises. It was actually Doctor Richtofen's idea to use repetitive sound as a method of entrancing them."

Lehmkuhl's voice lit up, "Ah! I remember Doctor Richtofen, he's not around here is he?"

Doctor Maxis rolled his eyes, sure that no one could see in the dim lighting of the projection room, "He is not stationed at this facility. For the moment, he is still at Der Eisendrache."

"If this works, Doktor, you must send him my regards."

Lehmkuhl twisted his head as Thorsen left to fetch another film reel, and something in the corner of the room caught his attention.

"Was ist das?"

He approached something covered in a light blue tarp underneath the clock on the wall, Maxis following behind.

Maxis replied, "That is a prototype for a weapon upgrading machine. After we began prototyping more approachable designs for the Perk-a-Cola machines, Doctor Porter had the idea to create the device in a similar charming style. It is currently non-functional, however, and a bit crude."

"If it is covered, it is none of my business, Doktor. I trust in your projects."

Maxis looked to Doctor Thorsen and nodded as he removed the current reel from the projector, and inserted a specially marked one from its case. Maxis and Lehmkuhl approached the window as the film began.

The speakers began to project the same repetitive beeping sound as before at a consistent interval. On the screen flashed an image of Doctor Maxis, who stood silently looking at the audience for a few moments. The viewers were restless for a few moments due to the change in visuals. They soon became acquainted with the image of Maxis and settled down to listen to his commands.

Maxis motioned towards a particular test subject in the front row, "Watch the one in the second seat on the right. He is one of our best subjects."

The Maxis on the screen began to speak, "We will begin by raising our right arm into the air." Maxis then began to raise his right arm above his head like a salute.

Lehmkuhl leaned in close to view the response of the test subjects, and his eyes widened as one by one, they slowly began to raise an arm into the air, some right and some left. They held their trembling arms in the air for roughly eight seconds, before the screen's Maxis lowered his.

"How can they hear the commands through that awful sound? It is as loud as the film."

Doctor Thorsen answered, "That is why it works so well. They are already receptive to the repetitive, calming noises, which allows us to slip in commands freely without their minds rejecting them."

Lehmkuhl said directly to Maxis, "This is... marvelous, Doktor, sehr marvelous!"

The Maxis on the screen raised his left hand into the air, palm upwards, "Raise your arm to the sky. Keep it there."

Like well-trained dogs, they followed the command instantly, keeping their arms in the air as long as the film dictated.

Lehmkuhl inquired, "Have they been able to do anything more significant, such as, say, opening a door? Lifting objects?"

Maxis replied, "We have begun with simple commands that will not divert their attention away from the screen. We are slowly determining the best candidates for more mobile experiments."

Lehmkuhl chuckled to himself, shaking his head, "At this rate of progress, they will be the ones running the experiments soon!"

Maxis chuckled with him, looking at the blank-faced version of himself on the projection screen.

"Up... down... up... down… "

Ludvig seemed almost entranced by himself when the film suddenly froze on a frame of him lowering his hands.

Doctor Thorsen seemed confused, looking at the projector, worried, "Was ist los?"

Maxis and Lehmkuhl recoiled backwards as the image of Maxis on the screen suddenly zoomed into his face. Maxis' blood turned cold as the screen flickered on his own blank, dead expression, and the repetitive beeping audio suddenly became a high-pitched, electronic wail.

Lehmkuhl covered his ears, "What is... what is happening, Doktor?!"

The screen quickly changed frames to a blank black background, and in the foreground was a white symbol of a pyramid with an eye at the top. It stayed on the screen for a moment before the loudspeakers let out a distorted voice that echoed the same words, over and over, throughout the theater, "Kill the Doctor." The screen flashed back to Maxis' face, then to a black background with the words: "Kill the Doctor" and "Tötet den Doktor." As the words rang out in the theater, the film would switch between Maxis' face and the message, again and again.

The subjects quaked in their seats, thrashing their arms around, some tearing each other apart. One had managed to pull itself from the restraints, and leapt towards a soldier standing by the screen. He gunned down the subject with three loud gunshots, which only served to rile up the audience even further. They were now groaning and screeching as they waved their arms towards the men on the stage.

Maxis snapped into action, ordering Thorsen, "Remove the reel, NOW!"

He then approached a system on the wall that led to the loudspeakers in the theater. He switched the audio to be sourced from the speaker in the Projector's Room, shouting, "Men, remain calm! Restrain any test subjects that you can, and kill the rest. Do NOT harm Subject Two-Six or Subject Three-Eight. When the subjects are contained, find us in the foyer. Do not let ANY of them leave this facility!"

Maxis turned to Lehmkuhl as Thorsen removed the reel from the projector, and turned on the lights to the stage. He motioned for the two SS soldiers to lead the way as they followed. Weapons raised, they guided the group through the waiting area and into the foyer where a crowd of scientists and Sophia were waiting.

Maxis ran ahead of the armed men down the stairs and towards Sophia, "Are you alright?!"

"Yes, Doctor, I am fine. I was here when I heard the gunshots. What is happening?"

Maxis ducked his head in shame as he turned back to see the shocked and frightened Lehmkuhl now approaching him. "Only a minor setback. A problem with the projection."

Lehmkuhl placed his arm on Maxis' shoulder, pulling him aside, "What happened in there, Doktor?!" His expression and tone seemed to be more fearful than angry.

"Something went awry with the projection. That was not the film we had prepared. At least... not near the end."

"Why would it say such awful things towards you, Doktor? Did someone in Group 935 tamper with your films?"

"That is incredibly unlikely, with all due respect, Generalleutnant. My men are vetted, and Doctor Thorsen and I are the only two scientists who know exactly which reel we planned to use today."

"Doktor Thorsen..."

Lehmkuhl turned to Doctor Thorsen, who pushed his glasses atop his nose closer to his sweaty face. He shook his head, "Doctor, I swear to you on my little Emilia's life that I ensured the correct film was in that case just hours ago. I watched it in its entirety. This is not my doing."

Lehmkuhl moved in closer, looking up from his short stature towards Thorsen, "Then who did this? I am returning to my post and reporting exactly what I saw today. I believe in this project, Doktor Maxis, but I demand an investigation and an answer to this disruption and any further disruptions in the near future. Do you understand, Doktor?"

Maxis nodded, "Yes, Generalleutnant... "

"Gut, we should be leaving this madness, men… "

Lehmkuhl motioned for his two personal SS soldiers to lead the way towards the exit out of the theater.

Maxis ducked his head to the ground, closing his eyes and trying to picture his future with Samantha. He could see the house, the country; He could see her. But as he looked closer, the grass surrounding the home began to wither away and die. The perfect sunrise was blocked by a flurry of clouds. The house was completely empty.

Sophia approached Maxis, putting her palm to his chest as she spoke closely to him, "What awful things were said towards you Doctor? By whom?"

Maxis opened his eyes, taking Sophia's hand and pushing it away, "Do not worry, Sophia. It is nothing I wish to discuss."

The two of them peered into each others' eyes for a few moments as the crowd of scientists chatted with one another. Ludvig found solace in her eyes, wide and bright, and though he had not noticed before, he could see now that they were brown.

Now in reality, Maxis let go of Sophia's hand, placing his own at his side. Sophia then averted her eyes away towards the wall. As she let out a sigh, she reached for the handbag in her right hand, and removed a small, red letter which she handed to Maxis.

"I found this in your mailbox before the General arrived. There is no return address... perhaps it is from Samantha."

Maxis took the red letter, nodding to Sophia before turning his back to her, "Thank you, Sophia."

He approached the bar of the foyer, its cabinets stocked with vodka and beer that were off-limits during work hours. He placed the letter on the bar, pulling it open to reveal the contents. It simply held a blank white card. Upon flipping it to the opposite side, however, there was a short message in black ink, and at the bottom, the same symbol he saw in the projection screen just minutes earlier: The pyramid and the all-seeing eye.

"You are being judged, Doctor Maxis. Today was the first of many demonstrations of our influence. Do not underestimate us, or you and those you care about will pay dearly. We know where Doctor Richtofen and Samantha are at any given moment on any given day. If you wish to see them go unharmed, you will do exactly as we demand. You will receive more messages from us, some like this, others in a different manner. We implore you to pay attention. You are always being watched."

Chapter 23: Alone

Stalingrad, Soviet Union

Sgt. Nikolai Belinski

January 15th, 1943

"Death solves all problems - no man, no problem."

- Joseph Stalin

"Nikolai! Nikolai! Nikolai!"

The words rang out in parallel with a barrage of rounds being burrowed into the snow. Sergeant Nikolai Belinski paid them no attention, his mind still wandering to places outside his own reality. In this fugue state, the explosive sound of bullets pelting the concrete wall to his rear became the banging of a hammer on a nail through a fresh plank of wood. The cold layer of snow clutching his bullet-wounded leg became the warm embrace of a beautiful woman. The screaming of his name by the Russian soldier trapped behind cover became, most intense of all, the beautiful woman's whispering in his ear.

"Nikolai… Nikolai… Nikolai…"

The stabbing pain in his lower leg arrived once more as the return fire from his comrade returned his senses. The fantasy faded to reveal the grim reality Nikolai's homeland had become. Where churches, schools, and homes once stood, all that remained were fragments of these institutions, propped up like scarecrows in a field of snow.

The other Russian shouted, "Can you stand?"

Nikolai peered down at the drum magazine he was clutching tightly in his hand, his last vestige of safety, releasing his grasp as he diverted his energy towards moving his wounded leg. He started with his toes, bending them within his boots, until he was sure he could move the entire leg.

Ensuring he stayed completely behind the concrete wall to avoid the stray round of an MG-42, he put his weight onto the leg, exacerbating the pain. He was now on his feet, returning a glance towards the other Russian to assure him he was not ready to give up.

The soldier raised his shoulders, firmly gripping his sub-machine gun and nodding to Nikolai. Each man stared into the white void between them, listening intently for the last round to be fired off.

As the MG continued its barrage, the Russians prepared for what may be their final moments. Nikolai could see within the other man's eyes that he too knew the consequences of taking even one step back towards Soviet lines. Soviet commanders have little sympathy to share for those who would retreat from battle; Nikolai learned this lesson some time ago.

The flurry of rounds from the MG halted, and the last two Soviets in the reconnaissance group jolted from their cover, charging towards the enemy. With nothing but a magazine of ammunition for his comrade, Nikolai put forth the last of his energy into advancing. The German gunner's nest was still several blocks ahead, its occupants now surely scrambling to load their machine gun and mow them down. Nikolai thought of nothing but the precious seconds he must now have left to live.

The pain of the wound in his leg was now excruciating, and his adrenaline was no longer enough to keep his pace like that of his comrade. Nikolai was now lagging behind.

Ahead of them just a few more meters and to the right were the remains of a concrete wall just high enough to take cover behind. The two survivors veered right as they anticipated the Germans' MG now being loaded and trained on them.

They would be correct in this assumption, as the flashes from the MG nest in the distance were accompanied by their signature concussive ringing. Before Nikolai could reach the safety of the wall, he felt a sharp pain slash across his cheek. A fragment of the other Russian's skull had been flung in his direction as a lone bullet passed through his head. The rest of the body fell to the ground, painting the snow a deep red.

Nikolai lost balance as he whipped his head around from the MG nest to his comrade, the pain of his wound crumpling his legs beneath him and sending him face-first into the snow. The hail of bullets did not stop, whizzing over his head. He tossed the magazine aside, now realizing retrieving his fallen ally's weapon would be impossible. Nikolai instead focused on his immediate survival, clawing at frigid clumps of snow leaving his gloved fingers frostbitten. Every bullet that whizzed over Nikolai's head was another second cheated from Death, and only natural instincts kept him from rising to his feet and facing it.

Nikolai pushed deep into the snow to raise his body up and against the wall. He shook his hands and flexed his fingers, attempting to regain feeling and rid them of excess snow. He peered down at the leg that had slowed him down, placing his left hand over the wound.

After stowing the pain for a moment, Nikolai leaned in for a closer inspection. It was like no other war injury he had ever seen. The bullet had not only punctured the skin, but had burned the edges of the entrance point. Still lodged deeply in the leg, Nikolai could feel it inside. It felt incredibly warm in contrast to the rest of his body, and even placing his hand near the wound he could feel that physical warmth. The pain, however, was worsening with every passing moment as the bullet seemed to corrode away as his muscle tissue.

Regardless of the nature of the bullet that caused the injury, Nikolai could sense it would be a fatal one without any other Soviets to help. He considered wrapping it in spare gauze he held on his person, but he saw little reason in doing so.

Nikolai shut his eyes, trying to picture the peaceful moments he had seen just moments ago. The pain clouded these visions. There was no soft whispering but cries of agony from men, not gunned down by the German soldiers sent to kill them, but by their own comrades, ordered by the commander meant to lead them to victory. They wept, begging for their lives after being shot by their brothers who looked them in the eye as they pulled the trigger. Those still clinging to life were executed by the repugnant commander himself. Nikolai gazed into the eyes of one soldier who let out a last whimper as the commander pulled back the hammer and shot Private Belinski like a dog. Nikolai stared into those eyes he so recognized, which were now fading with his brother's life. There was only rage in Nikolai's soul, and the memories of this moment in time became difficult to retrieve. An image that cannot be erased, however, is the commander's face as Nikolai had him pinned to the ground, his knife being pounded into his chest. Some said twelve times, others said fifteen. Nikolai did not count.

It is only appropriate that Nikolai would die here in Stalingrad, in their 'glorious' leader's namesake city. For all his speeches and facades of leadership, Stalin was a fearful little mudak, afraid of those who truly believed in the Communist cause and who cared for the Soviet peoples. Those who spoke of a brighter future were often sent to the Gulag, but the Belinski name could never be wiped from history in this way. Stalin's solution to any man he could not handle himself would be to toss them aside like scraps for the Germans to feast upon. He had tried many times before to kill Nikolai; Today was the day he died for the Motherland.

After the MG-42 had ended its barrage, Nikolai heard voices through the cold wind, followed closely by boots trudging through snow. Germans: Quickly approaching.

Not ready to surrender his life to a German prison camp, Nikolai peered to his left down what used to be a street of the city, away from his fallen ally who was now half-buried in the snow. He leaned his body down to the ground, and began to crawl using his elbows, not wanting to give his fingers further frostbite. He moved slower than before, avoiding the potential of alerting the Germans to his location, making his way around the corner of the building, and looking down a long stretch of what used to be the street. At the end were the remains of a statue of Lenin, the trunkless legs still standing, the body and shattered visage buried under a layer of snow.

Nikolai began to lose energy as his joints ached, pulling his whole body across the ground. He now realized how thirsty he had become, and began to feel lightheaded. If he stopped, however, he knew he would never move again.

After passing several blocks, the injured leg could no longer propel him forward, resting limply as Nikolai continued to pull at the ground beneath. No longer able to bear the bitter cold, Nikolai peered at the building to his left; He could not quite make out any signs, and there were holes born in the wall from explosives, but it would be warmer than the streets.

Nikolai crawled up the steps and through the doorway missing the door. Now out of the snow and onto the wooden floor, Nikolai used his hands once more to inch along. His energy was drained to such a degree that his limbs went completely limp as his body temperature creeped upwards.

He could not move any further for the moment, resting his head firmly on the chilly ground and shutting his eyes. His visions of death grew fuzzy and his fingertips began to tingle. For a moment, Nikolai felt bliss.

"Prost an Herrn und Frau Adler!"

Feeling began to return in his fingertips, and blood flowed back to his head as he raised it from the damp floorboards.

"Prost!"

Nikolai peered at the doorway down the hall, knowing that the German voices were coming from there.

He inched forward, remaining quiet as he did so. Through a hole in the wall, Nikolai could see the sky growing darker, and soon the Soviet mortar strikes on the nearby airfield would begin.

Nikolai came closer to the edge of the doorway, and he could hear the German soldiers inside clearly. There seemed to be only two; They were laughing.

Nikolai slowly peered around the corner into the room, now recognizing the location. It was a bar, two tables sitting in the open area and cabinets filled with vodka. The two young soldiers were guzzling shots of the Russian vodka, giggling and muttering to each other in German. They held no weapons. Their MP-40s were resting against the wall right in front of Nikolai.

He pushed against the wooden floor, raising his body up onto his wobbly legs. He stood crouched, leaning with one arm against the wall to remain balanced. Nikolai took one of the sub-machine guns, placing it around the corner, out of sight. He took the other in his hands, checking that it was loaded and ready to fire.

Nikolai raised up to standing position, holding the weapon in his right hand, finger at the trigger, as he used his left to stand up straight. He entered the room, weapon pointed towards the German boys.

When the first German locked eyes with Nikolai, he flinched before noticing his own weapon in the Russian's hands. The other turned around and gasped before grabbing an empty bottle of vodka and holding it like a pistol towards Nikolai.

"Nein, nein, n-!"

Nikolai placed his index finger against his lips before taking grip of the MP-40 with both hands.

The drunk German holding the bottle placed it back on the bar, raising his hands in the air to signal his surrender. The other was so stunned that he could not move at all, snapping out of it as the first nodded to him to raise his hands. Both men stood silently, staring into the Russian's vacant, emotionless expression. Nikolai did nothing but divert his gaze between the two young men as he held the weapon pointed to their chests just over a meter away.

The one who first raised his hands, who was visibly the youngest of the pair, spoke up softly in German, "Bitte, wir werden es niemandem erzählen... "

Nikolai did not waver, his weapon still trained on them.

Outside, explosions from mortar strikes could be heard. Each pop of the mortar hitting its target caused the Germans to flinch. Each of them was sweating like it was a Summer day, the eldest starting to cry softly.

The younger German began to shake his head, muttering in Russian, "I speak Russian... some. You are Russian?"

Nikolai slowly nodded his head, never moving the barrel of the weapon away from its target.

"Please do not kill us. We will leave... telling no one. No one will find you... "

The mortars continued to rain down outside. Boom. Boom. Boom.

"Have mercy. Please, have mercy."

Nikolai began to tense up, his hands gripping the trigger tightly. He took aim, and waited.

"Mercy!"

Boom.

Nikolai held the trigger for only two seconds, unleashing a dozen rounds in an arc, ending the two Germans' lives on the spot and bursting two glasses resting on the bar. One of the bodies slumped backwards onto a desk before resting.

The only noise following was the rolling of bullet casings on the wood floor. Nikolai stood still for a moment, before placing the MP-40 onto the bar and pacing towards the bodies. The floor beneath him creaked, indicating a cellar underneath.

Nikolai stepped over the body on the floor, taking in his hands a bottle of vodka from the cabinet above him. Closing the cabinet, he passed the body resting on the table, and leaned onto the bar. Nikolai downed nearly half the bottle before slamming it back down. He could feel some measure of warmth returning to his body.

On the floor near the wall was the cellar door. Nikolai approached it, lifting the wood panel. He looked down towards his wounded leg, the blood still seeping through his uniform, and began to descend the ladder leading to the cellar. The room was dim and damp, a rat scurrying across the floor under a barrel. All along the wall were dozens of crates of vodka, completely untouched by the war above. Nikolai limped over to a dark corner of the cellar, lowering himself to the ground.

He pulled back the cloth surrounding his wound, downed a shot of vodka, and poured the rest onto the bloody mess. It did not burn as much as it should, Nikolai thought.

Through the darkness, Nikolai could see something dripping from the floorboards above, with the droplets making noise as they collected on the ground. Nikolai realized it was the blood of the boys he had slain.

Nikolai tossed the empty bottle aside, resting his head on the wall and shutting his eyes. He began to hum a Tchaikovsky melody, and grabbed another fresh bottle of vodka before chugging more.

His mind drifted, blurry and weightless. He had missed this loneliness.

Nikolai awoke with a sharp pain at the back of his head, as if he had been thrown backwards. There was a rumbling beneath him. He could feel the touch of another person; They were close, tending to the pain in his leg. Nikolai opened his eyes once again, blinded by an overhead lamp. Regaining his vision, he could see a dozen Germans, fully armed. Where the wound had been in his leg, there was a bandage and no pain whatsoever. Nikolai could feel his toes, and he realized he was now on a plane.

He searched the area for any way to kill his captors, spotting only a set of medical tools on a nearby table. Nikolai mustered the energy and attempted to leap from his bed, his head being slammed backwards as he was restrained at the wrists. The sudden noise and struggle alerted the Germans, who tried to restrain Nikolai as best they could, his head thrashing, attempting to headbutt any of them.

A younger man in a white lab-coat approached Nikolai. He adjusted his glasses, visibly afraid of the Russian, and brandishing a syringe in his hands. His coat was marked with a symbol Nikolai did not recognize: An atom held by a hand, in its center, the numbers '935.'

He approached Nikolai, putting on gloves, and pulling back his sleeve, injecting the fluid from the syringe into Nikolai's bloodstream. Nikolai began to feel cold, drifting back into peaceful sleep. The last words he heard were in English from the young man.

"He's quite the fighter. But, we will break him."

Letters from the Field: The Battle of Stalingrad

The brave servicemen and women of the Soviet Union fought to defend their people, their land, and their pride as they valiantly sacrificed life and limb to fight back against the Reich. What kept them fighting diligently, if not their courage, were the words of their family and friends offering hope and a glimpse at the life they were trying desperately to defend. Soldiers at the forefront of the war would send and receive mail to lift their spirits and motivate them to fight for the Motherland. Today, we have the opportunity to witness the love and humanity of these fighting men and their families as we gather letters recovered from Soviet soldiers of the Battle of Stalingrad.

Sergeant Nikolai Belinski had endured the worst the war had to offer, losing his wife during the first days of the German advance, and losing his brother to the bloody Battle of Stalingrad. Shortly after his brother's death, their mother wrote Nikolai a message offering solace for her boy who had lost everything. The following letter was recovered by American forces in 1945 as Soviet belongings stolen by German soldiers were confiscated, and these words were among them, now translated into English. It is unknown what happened to Nikolai after receiving the letter. Soviet records only indicate he was last seen near the end of the battle, and he may have been one of its countless victims.

16th of December, 1942

My boy,

I will keep my words brief, as I have difficulty holding my pen and my ink is running short.

Every day I worried for you two, hoping that my boys would return home in good health and perhaps I could make up for my own failures as a mother. Your brother's death has left me shaken, and I know now I can no longer wait to apologize. My body is weak and each day becomes more difficult. Your sister tries to help, but I do not think I will live to see your face again. I wish for you to know that I loved you two, even when we fought. I did not think I could forgive you for not attending your father's funeral. He was a strict man, who loved you, truly, even if he could not always express this love. If he had known his time was coming as I do now, I believe he would have apologized to you. Of all his children from all his wives, he said you were the strongest. He believed you were tough, and saw you becoming a better man. He drank himself to death, alone. I wish he could see you now, a war hero, just like him. A true Belinski.

If you will not forgive me, I only ask that you stay safe and control your anger. Without your brother by your side, I fear you will lash out and find yourself in trouble just like in your youth. I need you to stay strong, my son. Please write to me when you have the opportunity. There is not much time left for me, and I have not heard from you in so, so long. I love you.

Affectionately,

Your mother.

Chapter 24: Pygmalion

Deutsches Sol Kino, Berlin, Nazi Germany

Dr. Ludvig Maxis

February 12th, 1943

"... And I hope you are enjoying your stay at the castle with Doctor Richtofen and Doctor Wagner. I am unsure how much longer I will be continuing my work here, but I hope that I will be seeing you and Fluffy again very soon… I have attached a letter from your mother… she… she wanted you to read it when you were old enough, and you certainly have grown up rather fast... Signed… Your Father, Who Loves You Very Much."

Sophia placed her hand on her heart as she finished typing up the letter. "That was beautiful, Ludvig."

Maxis hastily grabbed a cup of tea from his desk, before pacing towards the door, saying back to her, "Thank you, Sophia. Hand the letter to Herr Schrute for inspection, and let him know to send it out today, then meet me in the testing area. We will be starting soon."

"Yes, Doctor."

Maxis stepped through the door of his office into a hallway, before descending a staircase towards the ground floor. He took a sip from his cup, before spitting it back out, realizing he had forgotten the tea bag and only prepared a cup of hot water. He dumped the cup out into a potted plant at the bottom of the staircase, before rounding the corner into the testing area, a repurposed backstage dressing room.

Inside, several scientists were scrambling to set up the area for today's tests. Project Leader Doctor Thorsen could be seen directing them around the area from behind a wooden bar.

Maxis approached the bar, placing his empty cup down and speaking to Thorsen. "Good morning, Doctor. Are we on schedule?"

Thorsen took a moment to breathe, leaning against the bar, speaking with a rasp in his voice, "Just a few more arrangements to be made and awaiting your assistant's arrival. The handler will arrive with the subject when he is called." Thorsen then reached for the empty cup Maxis had placed, peering inside, before setting it back down and smiling. "I see you've forgotten how to make tea again, Ludvig."

Ludvig grinned, shaking his head, "Just another item on the list of things to do once we have our army." He waited a moment, continuing flatly, "How has the subject handled captivity inside the pod?"

Thorsen ran his hands through his frazzled, white hair, replying, "Better than the rest. No outbursts to speak of. Subject Two-Six may be the one, Doctor Maxis."

Maxis let out a long sigh, "Perhaps we shall be so lucky. Does your team share your enthusiasm?"

"Not quite, no," said Thorsen, "Doctor Steiner in particular wishes to end the project. He feels this is all beneath him."

"There is little I find surprising about that, he has informed me as such… But he is one of the Führer's men, not one of ours. If we are successful today, your team can expect a well-deserved resting period. Heaven knows we are all in need of rest."

Thorsen nodded to one of the Doctors seeking confirmation about the relocation of a mannequin in the center of the room, before turning back to Maxis, "Well, unfortunately, war gives little time for rest."

Maxis began to sift through some records, stating, "I won't be able to rest until I can return to Samantha. I am sure you are dying to see Emilia again."

"You would be correct, Doctor, of course. I must thank you again for speaking to the General about my sending her letters. I was afraid this theater was going to drive me mad."

"Let us hope it does not come to that. We all need to remember our humanity even in times of war."

From the opposite entrance to the room came Sophia in her short dress and heels, a handbag around her arm. She smiled and ducked her head to Maxis and Thorsen, "Doctors… I sent the letters for inspection as requested, Doctor Maxis. Are we about to begin?"

Maxis turned his gaze to Thorsen for confirmation, and in response to his nodding, Maxis directed Sophia to a desk near the bar with a typewriter, "It seems we are. Be ready for the subject's arrival."

"Yes, Doctor." She took a seat at the wooden chair near the desk, making sure there was paper ready within the typewriter.

Thorsen passed a suggestive glance to Maxis, whispering seductively, "Yes, Doctor… "

Maxis frowned, saying to Thorsen bluntly, "Doctor Thorsen, please inform the handler we are ready to begin."

Thorsen smirked, replying, "Of course, Doctor."

Doctor Thorsen approached the wall's rotary phone, placing it to his ear and dialing a number. After a moment he said, "Mr. Grady, you may wheel in the subject."

Thorsen then hung up the phone and walked around the bar to the open test area, raising his hands, directing attention towards him. "Everyone, the subject will be arriving soon. Step behind the bar and await further instruction."

The team of scientists assembled behind Maxis and Sophia at her desk, speaking softly to one another as they waited.

Maxis stared at the doorway leading outside, his thoughts drifting away from the work at hand for only a moment of peace. Ludvig pictured Samantha as she opened the letter he had sent, smiling and happy her father had her in his thoughts. The letter from her mother… she had written it only days before Samantha was born… days before her death. Hilda knew she was in poor condition, and made Ludvig promise to give Samantha the letter when she was old enough to read. She told Ludvig not to read it, to allow her words to be for Samantha, and for Samantha alone. Ludvig only hoped they could bring Samantha some relief in these trying times.

He envisioned her smiling, drawing pictures, ready to show them to her father once he returned. This vision then widened to depict an open doorway, where a man stood in shadow, Samantha's teddy bear in his hand. The silhouette paced slowly further into the room, coming unbearably close, as Samantha let out a scream, "NO!"

Ludvig pushed this fear to the back of his mind: Samantha is currently being watched by a group making demands of Ludvig, which had revealed themselves as the "Illuminati." Since the incident with the projector, there have been no other acts of sabotage on the experiment, implying the act was truly motivated by the Reichstag's involvement that day. Several notes had been left in Maxis' office with the same symbol marking the one present that day. All of them urge Ludvig to comply, halt weapon production, and lessen communications with the Reichstag, with threats against Samantha as well as the families of fellow scientists. There had been no mention of the undead experiments, and for that reason only, they continued at the Kino Facility. There was no way for Maxis to tell anyone about these threats without provoking these tormentors. Every night, Ludvig has awoken from a nightmare where these actions are taken, and he can now do nothing but await the next threat.

Maxis snapped from his trance at the sound of wheels rolling across wooden boards. The handler had arrived.

First, in came two armed German soldiers, behind them a cart being wheeled in by Mr. Grady. On the cart was a large, egg-like pod made of metal, held together at a vertical seam by bolts. There was a glass view-port on the front face of the pod, allowing its occupant's blank eyes to be seen peering back.

The two soldiers assisted Grady as he pushed the cart to the center and lifted the pod off of the cart onto the floor. They then fanned out around the room as Grady began to remove the bolts of the pod one by one.

As Maxis gazed into the eyes of the subject inside, he noted its motionlessness and undivided attention towards himself through the port.

All in the room stayed silent, daring not to take a breath or move swiftly as the pod came open, and the crumpled, fetus-like test subject began to swivel its head.

Thorsen gave a nod of approval to Grady, who proceeded to command the subject, "Step out. Here." He pointed to the ground just before the pod.

Subject Two-Six's bones began to creak as it outstretched its arms and legs, evacuating the pod. The fleshy, worn feet met the wooden floor and it began to rise up to attention. Two-Six stood taller than the average man, even as it was hunched over in its gait. It had been given an old German military uniform while sedated, minus the boots, to cover its disturbing nakedness during these tests. It focused its vision on Grady, pacing one wobbly step at a time towards the commanded location.

Maxis spoke softly, only loud enough for Sophia and the other onlookers to hear. "Subject Two-Six appears to have maintained its programming for approximately seventy-two hours. With the process now perfected, today we will be trying to give the subject new commands. Subject Two-Six has left the pod and accepted Herr Grady's first command. Subject appears normal; No signs of frustration."

Grady then began to raise both arms in a T shape. "Raise your arms."

Subject Two-Six then followed suit, holding its arms stiffly in the air.

Grady continued, "Good. Now follow my movements."

Grady began a series of movements, from raising both hands above his head, to crouching, and to flexing his fingers. The subject did exactly as Grady did.

From the crowd to Maxis' rear, the voice of Doctor Steiner muttered in German, "Ridiculous… "

Doctor Thorsen scolded him, as Maxis continued dictating, "Herr Grady is beginning the daily exercises. The Subject is having no issue following along. Speed in following these commands appears to be increasing compared to earlier tests. As predicted, the subject appears to remember previous tests, making movements before Herr Grady can even make them himself."

Grady then lifted an empty cardboard box and placed it down in front of the Subject. He commanded, "Lift the box."

Two-Six became distracted for a moment as a fly buzzed near its head. Its mouth stayed agape, and its view turned towards the crowd of people observing it. Maxis could hear Sophia gasp, then cover her mouth immediately.

Grady snapped his fingers, raising his voice slightly, "Two-Six! Lift the box."

As brown drool dripped from its maw, staining its uniform, Two-Six swiveled its view to the box, reaching its limbs out slowly, attempting to grip the sides.

Maxis allowed himself to breathe once more, before continuing the dictation, "Two-Six is now onto the lifting portion of the test. It is now lifting the box as instructed, holding it at arm's length. It does not appear to be struggling with the empty box, and we shall be upping the weight in the future."

Grady remarked, "Good," before checking the agenda on a clipboard he had brought with him. Two-Six stood at attention, ready for the next command. Grady made some marks on the clipboard, before uttering another command, "March in step."

Grady began to march as if he were a member of the Wehrmacht, circling the interior of the room. Subject Two-Six followed suit, its march sloppy and off-beat with Grady's, but very provocative of the German goose step nonetheless.

Maxis continued, "Two-Six is responding well to the marching command, as expected. Just as with the other commands, the key-phrase to dictate the subject's actions was implanted during the programming phase. Subject was shown a member of our staff performing the same action again and again, with the key-phrase both in German and in English preceding the action. The Subject does not learn via a reward and punishment system as has been observed in primates. Its mind is so simple and its eyesight so weak, that it relies heavily on its sense of hearing in learning. Any attempts to feed or reprimand the subject physically without an audio cue cause a great deal of aggression. It also responds poorly to loud, unexpected noises."

As Grady and the Subject completed their march around the testing area five times, Grady commanded, "Halt!" before raising his hand with a palm outward towards the subject. It halted immediately in its tracks, ready for the next command.

Doctor Thorsen leaned over to Maxis, muttering quietly, "He is responding incredibly well, Doctor. The Reichstag will be pleased to see what progress we've made."

Maxis shook his head, "We cannot celebrate yet, Doctor Thorsen. There is but one more command to be issued."

Grady nodded towards a soldier near the doorway, who slowly opened the door and walked out, returning with a cart holding a cage. All in the room could hear the squealing of a pig, and the rattling of the cage as it ran in circles inside trying to escape.

Immediately as the cage entered the room, the Subject's eyes locked with the pig inside, and it began to salivate at both ends of its mouth.

Grady held a syringe in his hand, approaching the cage and opening the door. He gripped the pig as it tried to run out, and injected the syringe into its neck. After a few moments, the squirming swine became restful and its panic reduced. It simply stood still in place in front of the cage, eyes glazed over.

Mr. Grady stepped back, motioning the soldiers to do the same. Subject Two-Six was becoming restless, shifting side to side and hunched over like a lion in the tall grass ready to pounce on its prey.

Grady held his hand like a fist in the air, commanding, "Jetzt!"

The entire crowd jolted backwards in shock at the sudden burst in speed from Subject Two-Six, who leapt across the room directly onto the unsuspecting pig. It squealed for but a brief moment as the Subject sunk its teeth into its neck and tore out a chunk. With great strength, it reached into the wound and began to rip flesh and it tore the carcass in two at the abdomen. It lifted the front end and continued to gnaw deep into the muscle of the face while the feet dangled.

Sophia rose out of her chair and covered her eyes, and the crowd behind her grew restless. Several even left the room despite their instructions. In frustration, Thorsen ordered the others to remain where they are, and he spoke to Maxis, "I will deal with them later, Doctor… Doctor?"

Maxis continued to stare as Two-Six cleaned the bones left behind from its kill, moving on to the second half with the same veracity. Beyond it, Grady stood visibly shaken, looking back to Maxis for what to do next.

Maxis weakly muttered loud enough for Grady to hear, "Let it finish… and then we will end today's tests."

Grady nodded, returning his gaze to Two-Six. Maxis turned to Sophia, still in complete shock. He placed a hand on her shoulder, whispering to her, "Sophia… we should finish up here today. The test has been a success thus far. When we are finished… We can all have a quiet dinner in the city. What do you say, Sophia? Hm?"

She kept her eyes closed as she lowered her hands, breathing in and out, before returning to her seat. She put her hands back in place at the typewriter, gazing up at Maxis, tears in her eyes as the snarling and gnawing continued just several feet away.

"Subject Two-Six has responded… as expected to the attack command. The target was a sedated pig a couple of meters away. As we continue testing, we will begin using more mobile targets, and eventually the Subject will be trained to attack humans… in Red Army uniform. The current plan is to acquire prisoners from Küsten-"

A light near the ceiling began to flash a bright white, and an alarm blared a repetitive ringing.

Thorsen whipped his head around, "Was ist los?"

Maxis replied, his attention now on the Subject and Mr. Grady, "The fire alarm! Herr Grady?!"

In the testing area, several of the soldiers headed for the door, following fire alarm protocol to exit the building. The Subject began whipping its head around violently and snarling, in search of the source of the awful sounds. It focused on the flashing light above Grady's head, tossing the bones in its hands aside, and turning its body towards Grady. Grady began to panic, now cornered by the creature, and in the commotion it leapt towards him, biting into his arm as he screamed in agony. Grady had fainted from the panic and bite to his arm. Scientists began attempting to leave through a narrow back exit, and Sophia screamed as Subject Two-Six turned its attention to her.

Maxis turned to Sophia, who was back into the opposite corner of the room from him, her eyes meeting those of the Subject. Maxis called to her, "Sophia!"

She could not hear him through the alarm's blaring or the screaming as scientists piled through into the hallway.

Two-Six hobbled over to the counter separating them from the testing area, a chunk of Grady's arm still in its teeth. It jumped onto the counter and focused its attention onto Sophia, pushing her to the ground as she held her arms out to block it. Before Maxis could do anything, he was shoved aside by one of the German soldiers, who raised his MP-40 towards Two-Six, pumping a few rounds into its chest, spraying blood all over Sophia. Two-Six began writhing on the ground next to her as she bolted for the door. The soldier pointed towards Two-Six's head, and as he nearly pulled the trigger, Maxis screamed and tried to pull the gun away, "NO!"

The soldier shoved Maxis into a wall, before pulling the trigger and pulverizing the Subject with 115-infused rounds.

Maxis stood wide-eyed as he watched his months of progress being destroyed before his eyes. His vision blurred and his hearing made every sound indistinguishable from the ringing caused by the gunfire.

He stumbled out into the hallway, leaning on a chair, before looking up on the wall near the doorway. Written in white chalk on the wall were three names: Samantha, Emilia, and Abigail. Maxis' daughter, Thorsen's daughter, and Porter's daughter. Aside from them were the initials, "J.D." and a heart.

Maxis' blood pressure rose as he realized the message's intent and the cause of the fire alarm's activation. His tormentors, the Illuminati, have returned.

Maxis slammed the door open to his office, before shoving it closed and running to his desk, searching its surface. He had been forcibly kept outside the facility for two hours as the soldiers ensured it was safe to re-enter on orders of the Reichstag. Their trust in Maxis' judgement had waned significantly.

Surely enough, there was a note left behind, signed by the Illuminati.

"I believe our message has been clear, however, its contents should be put into writing. Tests on the flesh-eaters may continue, but the army must never be used by the Reichstag under any circumstances. Fail our wishes and neither you, nor your fellow scientists will ever see those three girls again. We have been continuing our surveillance of them as well as your men at other Group 935 facilities. You must ensure that weapons production is stunted, and no wonder weapons reach German hands. It is not their fate to win this war.

Doctor Richtofen has continued work with the Wunderwaffe DG-2. He is preparing to ask you to begin mass-production, and as we have asked, you will deny him. No matter his progress nor his insistence, you will not listen, and you will not tell him, nor any other soul of our demands. Their lives are in your hands, Doctor Maxis."

Attached via paperclip were three photos, one through a window of Thorsen's daughter at his home in Norway, another of Porter's daughter at her school in Hamburg, and the last was of Doctor Richtofen and Samantha in the laboratories of Der Eisendrache.

Maxis' hands shook as he held the photos in the air, and he swiftly shoved them along with the note into a drawer of his desk before locking it. He sat in his chair, gazing around the room for any location a listening device could be hidden. They could be anywhere at any time. They could be anyone. There is nothing that can be done to stop them.

Maxis shut his eyes, terrified of the Illuminati's capabilities, but relieved nothing will happen to Samantha yet.

After a few moments of silence, he checked his planner. He must return to work soon.

Maxis pulled a recording device he had been using to document Subject Two-Six's progress up to his face, initiating recording.

"Today the Kino Project encountered another setback… Patient Two-Six was killed this morning in a field test. He lost control and attacked one of our handlers. His injuries were minor, but patient Two-Six was destroyed. The break in programming coincided with the flashing lights and loud noises of the fire alarm in the test facility."

Before he could continue, there was a knock at the door. He paused, "One moment."

The knocking returned again.

"What is it?"

The door creaked open slightly, Sophia's face visible through the narrow space, "You wanted to see me, Ludvig?"

"Sophia, yes, do come in. Sit down, my dear."

Maxis set the recorder aside, standing up from his chair to approach her.

"Would you like some tea?"

"That's alright, Ludvig."

"Alright… I'm so sorry for-"

"Don't worry, Ludvig. I'm alright."

"It's just… Doctor Steiner was sharing this rumor… a rumor about Herr Grady, and about you."

"What? What is this rumor?"

"It's… may I please see your arm, dear?"

"Why do you need to see my arm?"

Maxis muttered somberly, "Please try to relax, Sophia, I would never hurt you. You know that right?"

"Of course, but… Ludvig!"

Maxis took hold of her left arm, pulling back the sleeve to find her flesh without any scratch or bite.

"Oh, thank God. Sophia!"

Sophia stood up from her chair, pushing Maxis away.

"You think I would not tell you if I had been hurt?!"

"No, Sophia… I… I just had to know you were alright."

"I am done here, Ludvig. I am leaving Group 935."

"What? How… why?"

Sophia backed away and Maxis came closer, "I can't stand behind what you are doing here, Ludvig. How many more must suffer?"

"You don't understand, dear-"

"Do not call me that, Ludvig! There is nothing between us, can you not see that?"

Ludvig approached her even closer, her back to the wall, "Please, Sophia don't leave… We are so close to completing the project."

"I've had enough. I am informing the General of my decision in the morning."

Maxis placed his arms at Sophia's side, leaning in close, "Sophia, leave Group 935 with me. They... Doctor Thorsen can handle the work from now on. You and I and Samantha could live together… somewhere in the countryside. I know of a place where we can build our family. Please, Sophia, don't do this-"

Sophia shoved him away, tears in her eyes, "Get away from me, Ludvig! I don't want this! You do not want this!"

"I want you, Sophia! Please!"

"Goodbye, Doctor Maxis."

Sophia slammed the door shut, leaving Maxis to himself.

His legs were shaking and his body grew weak. He leaned onto his desk, sliding to the floor. After a moment, the phone on his desk began to ring. Maxis reached back, pulling the phone to his ear. He muttered weakly, "Yes?"

The voice of Doctor Thorsen uttered through the receiver, "General Lehmkuhl wishes to speak with you about the future of our project."

Chapter 25: Eviction

Catoctin Mountain Park, Maryland, USA

Agent Peter McCain

March 5th, 1943

"Future generations will be safer with Group 935 wiped off the face of the Earth."

Cornelius Pernell replied as he adjusted Peter's tie, "A little too much... Tone it down."

Peter tried again, "Future generations will be safer with Group 935… gutted and burned to the ground."

Pernell stopped, eyeing Peter, "I said down, not up."

"Be more specific."

"Cap it off with something positive… like… 'Future generations will be safer with Group 935's operations halted and with their research in our own capable hands.' Not too provocative, but pats us on the back at the same time."

"It's not what I was thinking, but… doesn't make a difference either way. You think I'm ready?"

"You were born ready."

"I was born in Oregon, Cornelius."

Cornelius dusted off Peter's shoulders, moving a loose strand of his oily hair back into place on his head, "Save some of that wit for after the presentation… Which should be starting… in just a couple of minutes. We should head that way."

Pernell led Peter out of his tent, the two of them in their hastily-prepared outfits and both equally nervous about the coming presentation to Major Sawyer. Since Peter had arrived at the OSS camp in Maryland, he had spent nearly every waking hour undergoing espionage training, exercising his body, and researching every aspect of Group 935 in preparation for field work in Europe. Since his first introduction to Director Donovan, the OSS had managed to assist General Patton in finding landing sites for Operation Torch, and they would soon be sending agents to train local resistance troops in Burma and China. Germany would soon be on the defense from Allied forces. Group 935, however, remains active, and as Peter has come to learn, they are still a danger to the free world just as well as they are a danger to themselves.

Peter and Cornelius marched down a grassy hill, passing several obstacle training courses and the gun range where bullet casings rested in the dirt. Training with the OSS was not so different from the Marine Corps, but it was a far more solitary experience. Other agents came and went, training for their missions. The only consistent acquaintance Peter could rely on was Cornelius.

At the base of the hill was a large tent he had helped set up the night before. Today Peter would be presenting his research into Group 935 for Major Sawyer and his colleagues in the OSS and the DOW. Thankfully, attention would not be entirely on Peter; A scientist would be presenting his own findings and detailing his part in Operation Firebrand ahead of Peter.

As they approached the tent, Peter took one last moment to make sure his hair was as presentable as it could be. Without ample time for a shower after his morning run, sweat kept his hair messy and oily.

Pernell gave a quick pep talk to Peter before they entered the tent, "I had the projectionist make sure your slides were in order. Just stick to the script and Sawyer will love it; They all will. Also, I forgot to mention it, but a handful of Marines will be attending."

"Wait, what?"

"It was last minute, Peter. I- I- I didn't really see it being too important to you. Sawyer said they'll be a part of the Operation and should be filled in on all the preliminary details. I'm sorry."

"You don't understand, Marines are a whole different crowd from the others… God damn it, I'm about to humiliate myself just like boot camp all over again… "

Pernell gripped Peter by the shoulders, grabbing his attention, "I don't know what kind of history you had in your training, but things are different now. I heard your story from the war has been making the rounds in the past year. You're like a... a legend to them."

Memories of his risky escape from Japanese imprisonment flooded his mind, and he saw the faces of those whom he left behind.

"I left my brothers to die. All this time, I haven't even had time to look into… if there even was a rescue mission… "

"They know you did what you did for the right reasons. You are not a coward. You nearly died to keep the United States ahead and you saved an enormous amount of life that day. You are a bonafide Marine, as far as I can tell."

Peter practiced his breathing, trying to calm his nerves. Finally, he straightened his posture, nodding to Pernell, his voice professional, "Thank you, Cornelius." Peter then led the way into the tent, its interior so much darker, with the only source of light coming from the projector pointing towards the opposite wall from the entrance. There were rows of seats lining the tent, with about two dozen men in high-ranking officer fatigues and military caps filling many of the seats. On the left side and in the front row were around fifteen Marines chatting with one another. Emerging from the darkness on the right-hand side of the tent came Major Sawyer, hand outstretched to Peter McCain. He could barely make out Sawyer's expression in the low-light, but beneath his bushy mustache, Sawyer appeared happy to see him.

"Agent McCain! Right on time, as I would expect. Your work ethic has been exemplary."

Peter shook Sawyer's hand with his own clammy grasp. "I owe it all to my secretary here... I mean, handler." Peter gestured to Pernell, smiling in jest.

Sawyer and Pernell shook hands, Sawyer stating, "Glad to see you two getting along like a real team. Now, I should inform the projectionist that we are starting. We won't want to keep our guests waiting."

Sawyer patted Peter on the shoulder, walking towards the projector. Pernell motioned Peter towards a pair of seats to the rear of the left-hand side of the room.

As they took their seats, Peter noticed that amongst the Marines was a woman by the name Gale. She often travelled with Sawyer between OSS bases as his secretary. Peter had a history of trying and sometimes failing to make women laugh at his jokes, and Gale had done nothing to change that. However, Gale did not completely detest Peter, and for that reason he was determined to make her laugh, however humorless she may be. As Sawyer stepped up to the front of the tent, Peter began to think over his speech for key moments he could insert a laugh or two. Getting her to laugh would be his personal goal for the day to distract from his nervousness.

As the first slide of the presentation appeared on the wall, the OSS seal, Sawyer began to speak.

"With both of our speakers having arrived… It is about time we began. Mr. Hampton has graciously invited our guests, Marines from the Pacific front lines who have shown an interest in working with the OSS and proven themselves to be loyal, trusted soldiers."

Sawyer turned his attention to the Marines, speaking directly to them, "After your training here, you will return to the Pacific to train local militias against the IJA. However, as Mr. Hampton surely explained, you may eventually become a major component of Operation Firebrand. With that in mind, remember that nothing discussed here leaves your lips. This Operation's success relies on complete secrecy and will be paramount to the future of mankind. Am I understood, Marines?"

United, the Marines shouted, "Yes, sir!"

"Excellent. Doctor Yena?"

As Sawyer stepped aside, a younger man in a white suit with a red bow tie creeped up to the front, looking out towards the crowd and awkwardly shifting out of the projector's light. He wore thick, black spectacles to match his jet black hair. He began to speak, seemingly unsure if it was his turn to begin, "Hello, everyone… My name is Doctor Harvey Yena. I have been studying the work of Group 935 and its members since my graduate studies at Yale. For a time their methods in research were admirable, and I even saw myself applying for membership after acquiring my PhD. As time progressed however, their work became more secretive, and now they have aligned themselves with the German government. I can't be certain if it was for financial reasons or out of fear, but they possess the expertise and resources to flip this war on its head, and I could not stand by while science was being used as a means to such ends. Officially, I plan to pursue membership with Group 935 as I have for years. Unofficially, I will be working with the OSS, providing details about the progress of their research and searching for vulnerabilities. With time, Agent Peter McCain, whom I believe is in the room with us today, will join Group 935 as well. With enough intel, Peter will be able to infiltrate and sabotage key research stations, and leave Group 935 with vital research in hand."

At the front row, the Marine next to Gale leaned his head backwards, exaggerating his boredom as if he had fallen asleep, grabbing her attention. Peter noticed that Gale let out a muffled giggle, before returning her attention to Doctor Yena.

Peter leaned forward, head resting in his hand, perplexed how the Marine had managed to break through to her so easily, whispering to himself, "So she does laugh… son of a bitch…"

Pernell leaned over, shushing Peter, who continued listening.

Yena continued, "This Operation could take years and even last through the end of the war. Group 935's policies regarding membership have been incredibly strict until now, disallowing non-German citizens. However, as they have been constricted by war, these policies have loosened as they have lost favor with the Reichstag. Now is the opportune time for an American scientist such as myself to seek employment amongst their ranks."

Yena motioned for the projectionist to move on to the next slide, continuing, "Group 935's research as of this time primarily revolves around a fairly recently discovered Element 115. The United States has a limited supply, however, Group 935 and their connection to the Reichstag as well as Division 9 of Japan's Unit 731 has given them access to deposit sites around the world."

The projection showed a familiar symbol to Peter: It was Division 9's emblem along with a map with their research stations across the Eastern Hemisphere. He had seen it while in the Philippines on one of the boxcars that his fellow soldiers were being forced into, and he had come across horror stories of Division 9's cruelty on prisoners of war during his research. He shuddered to imagine being forced into that boxcar as one of their test subjects.

"With the limited research available to us, we know that 115 has near infinite possibilities in application from the fields of medicine, physics, aviation, chemistry… I could go on. We know Group 935 has been pursuing 115 as a means of augmenting soldiers through medical elixirs which have seen limited use on the Germans' Eastern Front. 115 has also been used as a means of creating weaponry of unprecedented power which defies all known laws of physics and would outmode our entire military overnight. Lastly, and perhaps most terrifying of all, we have only hints that Group 935 is preparing something massive involving 115's ability to reanimate dead tissue and muscle cells. This research is being conducted at a facility somewhere in Berlin, and the progress has even been kept out of the eyes of a majority of the Reichstag and members of Group 935. This research could be the breaking point which shifts the war in their favor, and it is imperative we find out more. The idea may sound preposterous, however, 115's effect on the dead has been documented before. During the first World War in 1917, a mining company was attempting to mine what they first thought to be clay in France, which we now speculate to have been Element 115. A stray mortar shell from the nearby battle trapped the miners underground, and after a few hours some sort of sickness spread amongst the men there, causing them to become violent, and those miners ended up killing each other. The few survivors said the other miners had seemingly died before they came back to life and started attacking them."

There were murmurs among the Marines, all seemingly taken aback by the very idea of an undead army. A few looked to Major Sawyer, who was standing to the side, as if seeking confirmation that Doctor Yena was not just a madman. Peter was initially skeptical as well when he first joined the OSS, but hard evidence suggests Group 935 is making progress every day in controlling the undead that they create.

"The location of this mining location is currently lost to us, and may perhaps be within German-controlled France, however the details of the report match tests we have conducted with our own limited supply of 115. Group 935 may potentially be creating an army of resurrected bodies to fight for Germany."

One of the Marines muttered loud enough for everyone to hear, "You can't be serious… Fucking Zombies."

Sawyer's arms left his side as he pointed to the heckler, "Quiet, Marine! You're out of line. I apologize, Doctor Yena."

Yena motioned in a calming manner, "It's alright, it's alright… I understand your disbelief. Group 935's perversions of nature have left me… troubled. Element 115 is changing the world quicker than we'd have ever imagined, and I cannot say for certain how the future will look now that research has begun."

The Marines were silenced, but now far more attentive to the presentation than they were in the beginning. Yena finalized his status in Operation Firebrand with a few more words, "As we speak, my application for employment in Group 935 is being reviewed, and if all goes according to plan, I will be relocating to Germany as a member within the year. This bastardization of science cannot continue, and I stand with the OSS against Group 935. That is all I have for you today. Major?"

Sawyer nodded, "That will be all, Doctor. Thank you."

Peter prepared himself for his own speech, flexing his fingers as he went over the key points in his head. Pernell patted him on the back, as Sawyer stepped up to the front, "Agent Peter McCain will now share with us his research into the members of Group 935 and potential vulnerabilities in their ranks."

Sawyer smiled, shaking Peter's hand as he walked up and turned to the crowd which seemed far larger from this angle. As the projectionist prepared his slides, Peter glanced at Gale, expression stone-faced. He was beginning to feel confident, and ready to begin, until he noticed the Marine sitting next to Gale, staring brazenly back at him.

Peter stumbled for a moment, his memories catching up to him. The Marine was a man by the name of Thomas Dempsey. He and Peter had a sordid past, to say the least. Suddenly every ounce of hope and confidence in his own success had left Peter's body, leaving him empty and vulnerable in the eyes of everyone in that tent.

For a moment, there was only silence, the tension in the room visible to everyone. Peter searched the room for anything or anyone to cling to, and he locked eyes with Cornelius in the back, who put his hands together in a motion that could only be described as, "Get moving."

After a few more awkward moments, Peter glanced at the projection on the wall, re-aligning himself in the presentation.

"Good morning everyone, uh, I'm Agent Peter McCain of the OSS… obviously. I've been training here on and off for the past several months in preparation for Operation Firebrand. I will be doing field work in Europe for the next few years to prepare myself to infiltrate Group 935, sabotage their operations, and recover vital research for the OSS, all after Doctor Yena has mentioned my name a few times in 935 meetings and made sure I'm all clear to join. This means I'll probably be working closely with you all, Marines. You will be my escort and extraction for the Op, and I look forward to meeting with you. All of you. All of you, individually."

Peter stumbled, searching for the next line in his mind as he tried to avert his eyes from the Marines, now staring blankly at him. He continued, motioning the projector to switch to the next slide, a forward-facing image of Doctor Ludvig Maxis.

"Anyway, as you all should know, if you've read the dossiers on this Op, Group 935 is led by this stoic individual, Doctor Ludvig Maxis, M.D. He's a known associate of men such as Friedrich Steiner, Werner Heisenberg, Kurt Blome, and Wernher von Braun, all important Nazi-scientist-types. He's also the man who made the deal with the Reichstag that places Group 935 in their pocket. My research into his history suggests he may not necessarily align himself with them politically, but he sure jumped into bed with the Reichstag rather quickly at the expense of his own scientists. My purpose in researching Group 935's members is to find weaknesses in their structure, and potential allies in our Operation. While Maxis may have been a potential lead in that department, as of now he is located in their not-totally-secret facility in Berlin, putting him far too close to the Reichstag for us to go poking around. Although, every week we hear murmurs of more failures taking place there, and it may be the reason they are losing pull with the Nazis. My heart goes out to our poor Nazi-loving scientist friend."

Peter smiled, pausing to gauge the response of his audience and regretting his decision as he was met with deafening silence. He could see Cornelius' eyes widening and Sawyer's eyebrow raising. Gale had no visible response. Swing and a miss.

He continued, motioning the projectionist to move on to the next slide, a photo of a smiling Doctor Edward Richtofen, "With that trail cold, I searched Maxis' circle of colleagues for another potential ally, and one that stuck out most was Doctor Edward Richtofen, this charming, chiseled fellow behind me. If you've studied quantum physics even for a hot minute in the past decade, you've probably heard his name from his various published works. He has a sphere of influence in the scientific world that even rivals Doctor Maxis, and it is no wonder he was one of its first invitees. After reading up on his personal works, and looking up and down his dramatic history with my handler, Cornelius, I've determined he may be the ally on the inside we are looking for. He has worked with countless scientists and organizations across the globe and has subtly expressed his distrust of the Nazi Party and Hitler prior to the war. Despite the repeated success of Group 935's weapon projects, including Doctor Richtofen's Wunderwaffe DG-2, which he has brought up many, many times in his work, these wonder weapons have seen no mass production in their factories at Der Riese. In addition, many of Doctor Richtofen's closest colleagues in the organization separated themselves from Group 935 shortly after the deal was made. I believe, with all of the evidence I have uncovered, that Doctor Richtofen may be our best bet if we are to find an influential ally in Group 935."

The Marines were beginning to lose interest, apart from Dempsey, who continued to glare in Peter's general direction; Perhaps at himself or at the projection of Doctor Richtofen on the wall.

"A final piece of evidence cements the truth that Doctor Richtofen may not be completely allegiant to Group 935; I give full credit to my handler, Cornelius Pernell, for pointing me in the right direction with this one. He suggested that Doctor Richtofen may still be pen-pals with some of these old colleagues. We had men in Europe keeping track of his comings and goings, and surely enough, they intercepted a letter being sent to a Doctor Schüler written by Doctor Richtofen. Doctor Schüler left his position in Group 935 and fled to Switzerland due to his Jewish heritage, at the suggestion of Doctor Richtofen. The letter in question was copied for us to read, and it reveals Richtofen's colorful opinions on Germany and Group 935. To summarize, Richtofen was very apologetic about not keeping up with an old friend, before going on to bring up some 'opportunity' as he calls it that he had previously mentioned to Schüler. While we can't be certain what this opportunity is, he goes on to lament the lack of support for his Wunderwaffe, and verbally eviscerates Doctor Maxis for his deal with the Reichstag. He mentions Maxis' 'cronies' always looking over his shoulder, micro-managing his work, including, in particular, the young Doctor Wagner, a protégé of Maxis who has been seen working with Richtofen for quite some time. It seems to me that there is trouble in paradise... uh, in a manner of speaking. To top it all off, the letter was sent from a rural town far away from any 935 facilities, leading me to believe he wanted it out of the eyes of any Reichstag officials. I believe this to be solid evidence of Richtofen's dissent."

Sawyer seemed visibly impressed, and Cornelius could be seen in the back of the audience giving Peter two thumbs up for his performance. Gale stared blankly, funny bone untickled. Peter stood, arms swinging side to side as his thoughts raced, searching for any additional words to make a final impression on her. Nothing in particular came to mind.

Sawyer leaned close, whispering, "Is that all, Agent?"

Peter glanced at Sawyer, then back to Gale, then back to stink-eyed Dempsey before replying, "Uh… and future generations will be safer with Group 935's operations halted and with their research in our own... capable hands. Yes, that is all, Major. Thank you."

Sawyer smiled, stepping aside for Peter to return to his seat as he began to clap. Peter hurried towards the darkness, daring not to look in Dempsey's general direction.

The rest of the audience began to clap as Sawyer stepped up, offering a few final words, "Thank you, Agent McCain. That was some outstanding field work on display, and I have faith in the success of this Operation with both your and Doctor Yena's help. Marines, as Agent McCain has stated, you will be working closely with them as they undergo Operation Firebrand. With Agent McCain in Europe for the next few years, you will be his ticket in, and more importantly, out of Group 935. I'd suggest, if time permits, you meet with McCain and gather any intel you can before he and Doctor Yena depart. You are an integral part of this mission, Marines, and for that reason you have all been hand-picked as the best of the best the Corps has to offer. Were we mistaken in selecting you, Marines?"

As if they were one voice, the Marines shouted, "Sir, no sir!"

"Good. If there's nothing else, then I believe we can all be dismissed, thank you."

Sound echoed throughout the tent as everyone stood up and began to mingle. Peter considered for a moment approaching Gale, before remembering Dempsey's presence. He jolted from his chair, heading for the opening in the tent, as Pernell followed close behind.

Pernell said, "Well done, Peter, don't you want to stay around? Maybe meet some of the new recruits?"

As Peter stepped outside, the sun began to blind his vision, forcing him to cover his eyes for a few moments as he replied, "Maybe later. But we've got work to do before I leave the country."

Pernell seemed confused, "Really? I'd thought you would've wanted some time to relax, maybe get in touch with Mary while you're still here."

"Of course I'm gonna do that… I just, I just couldn't stick around in that tent for much longer. Let's just give Mary a message, then I need to hit the books. We need to get inside the mind of Doctor Edward Richtofen."

Chapter 26: Judgement Day

Dr. Richtofen's Office, Griffin Castle, near Werfen, Salzburg, Austria

Dr. Edward Richtofen

May 29th, 1943

His mind soothed by a Liszt composition, Doctor Richtofen reviewed his agenda for the week, his legs propped up on his desk and a legal pad resting in his lap. With each line crossed out on the page and each passing note in the playing record's symphonies, Edward's mind drifted to a calmer place than this frigid mountain. Today's schedule only called for one more task: The bi-monthly meeting of the minds in Richtofen's splinter sect of Group 935. Progress has been wunderbar since Maxis left for Berlin, so Edward predicted the meeting to be a pleasant get-together.

Though, the morning had been hectic: Spoiled by a series of shipments arriving from Verrückt, the asylum facility, which demanded menial inventory-checking and clipboard-signing. For a time he directed the flow of the cargo as it arrived via the gondola piecemeal, however, this grew tiresome and Richtofen entrusted Doctor Wagner to finish the job.

Richtofen needed time to simply think about something outside of his work for a change. In just the past five minutes he had thought about his favorite musicians, the last book he had read, and his own mortality. The subject of mortality came up often in Edward's wandering thoughts, and he had yet to come to any definitive conclusions.

His gaze wandered to the ticking Kit-Cat Klock, an item he imported from America, mesmerized by its inviting eyes as they strayed left and right again and again. This continued for a time, until the eyes flicked left once more, then stopped completely. Its dangling tail sat completely still as the ticking stopped.

Richtofen tossed his legs to the floor, standing and stretching his arms before approaching the clock. Through the utter silence, the voices began to creep into his conscious mind.

"Why do you waste your time like this, Edward? The time your kind has to exist is infinitesimal, yet you occupy yourself with the demands of the weak."

A chill flowed up Richtofen's spine, destroying the calm reprieve he had just created for himself. He stepped back, away from the clock, speaking into the void.

"I've already told you, Maxis und his petty friends must believe that I am still loyal to the cause, still determined to win this war. My work must continue to be under Group 935 in order to have the resources to help you... my Lord… " He hated calling them that.

"It is imperative you remember your one and only purpose to us, Edward: To open the gateway and release us from our imprisonment! We have waited a long, long time for The One who would free us from our eternal suffering beneath creation. You have been chosen, and as it was written long ago, you will not fail us."

Though his mind had been numbed to the volume and intensity of the voices, the effect of their ever-present nature had not been dampened by time. The knowledge that they would always be watching and listening twisted Edward's thoughts.

"I see… I only wish I understood more about you since we are working together so closely… I know you are not the Vril-Ya, not quite. You are… something else entirely."

"Your kind have known us by many names. Our earned title, given to us by our enemies eons before your creation, is 'Apothicon.' There is still much for you to do in your mortal form, but with time, you will come to understand us intimately."

"I eagerly await my Ascension… in due time."

"Indeed. Only through your forthcoming trials will the path ahead be revealed. You will be hearing from us again, Edward, very soon."

The voices released their grasp on Richtofen's mind, allowing him to breathe and collect his thoughts. Recently, they had warned him of tests, or trials, which would allow him to prove himself worthy to their cause. Though Edward feared these 'Apothicons,' they promised great power in exchange for their freedom. He could do nothing else but trust them to keep their word.

Richtofen searched his desk for a letter left in his mailbox a week beforehand: A letter from the Illuminati. Though he willfully ignored their calls to rejoin, they would continue to leave cryptic messages everywhere he went, seemingly toying with Edward in times of stress. The most recent letter warned that the Americans were eyeing Richtofen very closely, but to what end, it did not specify. They signed off on the letter referring to Edward as their "faithful servant" once again. Despite his disdain for the Illuminati, Edward agreed that there may be agents of the Allies within Group 935, closer than he had previously thought.

So many seemed to be watching Richtofen's every move: The Illuminati, the Allies, Doctor Maxis, and the Apothicon voices in his head. All the while, he had to constantly shake the two wandering children trailing close behind him at all times: Samantha and Doctor Wagner. His trust in Doctor Wagner was growing day by day, however, and he could feel nothing but appreciation for the efforts that Wagner had made in caring for Samantha while Richtofen focused his mind on more important affairs.

Edward recalled a situation several weeks before: When the monthly letter from Ludvig arrived for Samantha. It contained a message written by her mother just before her death. Edward took the liberty of screening the message: The rambling, incoherent words of a woman on her deathbed, vowing to shield Samantha from harm forever. Such promises are harmful to a child; Nothing is truly forever, and it is no surprise Maxis would show no care in allowing Samantha to read it. The image she must have of Hilda in her memories should not be sullied by the fleeting, muddled thoughts of a dying mind. Edward only wished he could be spared from the last memories of his own mother. Thankfully, Doctor Wagner was there to hastily dispose of the message before Samantha had arrived to read her father's letter. Perhaps a time will come when he too should know the truth about Eagle's Nest and the plans Richtofen had at Griffin Station.

Richtofen removed the novelty clock from the wall, setting it aside to fix later, before embarking towards the hallway outside his office. He paced past the recreated paintings of the castle adorning the halls of the offices and living quarters, before taking note of the time on the clock by the washrooms: He was a minute late.

Hands behind his back, Richtofen sauntered up a set of wooden stairs into a stony room that had become a makeshift lab. Across from a row of computer systems was a wooden door leading into the meeting room. He adjusted the tie on his uniform, before swiftly opening the door, raising his arms into the air and smiling as his associates stared blankly back at him.

"Gentlemen! Thank you so much for waiting! I've really been quite busy with all the administrative blah, blah, und the financial hoopla… I won't bore you with the details but everything is looking quite positive for a change! Und how have you all been?"

From left to right at the aged, wooden round table were four men within Richtofen's close circle of allies, Doctor Groph of Griffin Station, Doctor Okitsu of the Rising Sun Facility, Doctor Lehto of Der Riese, and Herr Meier of the Jungle Facility; None of them had any response to Richtofen's question.

Edward looked to each of them consecutively, fishing for a response, "Anybody? No one wants to chat a little before we get down to business? No? Very well."

Edward pulled out a wooden chair, scraping it across the floor before dramatically sitting down and adjusting himself at an unreasonable volume.

"Now then, if we are skipping the exchanging of pleasantries, we shall start with you, Doctor Lehto. What new information have you acquired about Maxis' little secret project? Do we have a location yet?"

Doctor Lehto coughed, looking to the table rather than to Edward, muttering, "Well, Doctor Richtofen, there has been a slight- "

Richtofen cut him off, lifting his palm towards Lehto's face as he looked into the air, "Wait! Don't tell me… I'm predicting you have nothing, as usual. Not that locating a man's whereabouts in a city such as Berlin is a simple task, but it isn't exactly Herculean, either."

Lehto, frustrated, now focused his gaze towards Richtofen's, "If you would allow me to collect my thoughts, Doctor, you would be pleased to hear the good news."

"Pleased? I would be delighted to hear good news. Carry on, I am listening."

To the left, Groph was smirking, clearly amused by Lehto's treatment. Lehto offered a raised eyebrow and a disapproving sneer back. Between them, Okitsu stared blankly towards the wall to Richtofen's rear. Meier listened intently, daring not to cross Richtofen after their prior engagements.

Lehto continued, "Reichstag security around the city has become far tighter as the Allies have begun pushing back. Security personnel at Der Riese say orders have come in from the Reichstag to be far more wary of spies. As such our agents have had a more difficult time searching the city for potential locations. However, they have heard rumors from Reichstag security forces in the city via radio transmissions. The word 'Kino' keeps recurring in their conversations. I am uncertain if this is simply a codename for the site, or perhaps an indication the site may be near a theater. Regardless, it is a clue towards the facility we are searching for."

Richtofen pursed his lips, thinking over Lehto's discovery, replying, "Very interesting, Doctor. I recall sometime before Maxis' departure there was mention of a project called Faust. The name brought to mind the film of the same name. If the two are related, this Kino Facility may be the location of Doctor Maxis' Vril experiments."

Lehto appeared visibly confused, "Vril? I was under the impression Doctor Maxis' primary purpose in Berlin was creating the undead army the Reichstag seeks. I have heard of no such 'Vril' experiments there."

Groph pounded the table, leaning forward and frightening Okitsu from his daze, "Of course you have not! Maxis must have abandoned the experiments; A man like him would have no idea what to do with such power, unlike Doctor Richtofen!"

Richtofen smiled, motioning Groph to return to his seat, "I'm flattered. Doctor Lehto, I want your agents to keep at it until we find this theater. It should be their top priority, regardless of their other orders."

Lehto replied, "I will see to it."

"Wunderbar! Now, Doctor Groph, while I have you good und riled up, do you have an update on the MPD's status?"

Groph straightened his posture, pulling a manila folder from his jacket, and looking over data as he spoke, "Yes, Doctor. Unfortunately, the news is not quite as positive, however, it will serve as a lesson in our future endeavors; Not quite a failure, but an unforeseen complication. On July 20th, 1942, we harvested the ethereal energy of twenty-six subjects from Küstenposten, completely filling the glass tank Schuster and I discovered. I later discovered three more tanks, which we promptly filled with more energy. Power levels from the pyramid immediately spiked, relaying an excess of power into the station's subsystems. I believe the pyramid would have been ready to open had we been more prepared and known what would follow. Since that date, we discovered the tanks have begun to leak the energy as a gas into the air. This appears to be by the Ancients' design as such high levels of concentrated aetherial energy may perhaps be unstable when contained within the tanks. The rate of loss is slow, however, I predict by December of 1944 the tanks will each be below seventy percent capacity. This will prove an issue as I have calculated a necessary ninety-nine percent capacity for each tank in order to open a gateway to the Aether."

Richtofen leaned back, "How have you responded, Groph?"

"My team has discovered that the tanks themselves are able to be removed from the base of the structure, and while the leakage remains, we are able to study the tanks for potential solutions. It would be unwise to test the forethought of the Ancients by modifying the tanks, however, it would be in our best interest if the energy itself was not wasted and was instead used for our other projects. Perhaps with this energy, we may learn more about the cosmic make-up of all living creatures, and how the Vril-Ya used it. In the future, as we endeavor to leave this dimension, we should be more prepared."

"Indeed. When the day comes, we must be ready. In that case, we will need another source for this soul, erm, life energy. Sadly, my friends at Küstenposten will not allow future shipments of their prisoners. Something about the remaining subjects we sent back changed their tune."

Groph shook his head, "They simply do not understand what we are trying to accomplish."

Lehto raised an eyebrow to Groph, saying nothing as Doctor Richtofen pondered.

Edward pointed quizzically to Doctor Okitsu, "Perhaps… our friends in Japan could lend a hand? Hm?"

Okitsu replied bluntly, "Inventory at the Rising Sun Facility is well-documented. Such a large shipment of subjects would gather attention."

Disappointed, Richtofen asked, "What about from Verrückt? From what I have heard, Division 9's policies on living subjects are far more... lenient."

There was a visible expression of disgust from Okitsu's face at the comment as he replied, "The arrogant Group 935 pigs at Verrückt have robbed my men of all agency since the Facility was founded. We are more practically considered children than scientists."

"Lighten up, Doctor. Under my leadership you are just as much a part of the plan as Group 935's scientists. If not Verrückt, perhaps… " Richtofen leaned across the table, whispering to Okitsu in a hushed tone, "Doragon No Shinden?"

Okitsu frowned, leaning in to face Richtofen head-on, "Absolutely not. It would be wise if you did not mention it again."

Lehto and Groph each leaned away from the duo facing off across the table. Meier sat wide-eyed and tense, unsure of what was to come.

Richtofen's lips pursed, before shifting into a child-like smile sharp enough to cut through any anger between them. He sat back in his chair, pleased, "In that case, we will find another source in due time. If nothing turns up, I'm sure Herr Meier could provide us with an ample supply of subjects from the mines. Isn't that right?"

He diverted his piercing smile towards Meier, now sunk as deep as possible into his chair.

Meier said faintly, "I would have no complaints, Doctor."

Doctor Lehto shook his head, "Of course you wouldn't… "

Meier shot back, "Oh please, they'd be begging to sacrifice themselves for us. From where do you get your subjects at Der Riese, hm? Which camp did you drag those- "

Richtofen cued silence like a maestro as he raised one finger in the air towards Meier. He mockingly clicked his tongue, "Temper, temper, Herr Meier. You know better. We've been over this."

Meier had held his breath since Richtofen silenced him, only releasing as Richtofen turned his attention to everyone in the room, "Gentlemen, I would like to remind you that we are all on the same team here! We have the same goals, after all! You four joined me because I showed you the locked door that will lead us to a better tomorrow. In return, I only ask for your cooperation in securing the keys."

Groph nodded, placing his hand on his chest, "I have dedicated my life to this cause. To a new era of Group 935!"

Lehto stroked the beard at his chin, "I trust in your leadership, old friend."

Richtofen glanced at Meier just quickly enough to elicit a frightened reaction, "I… uh, agree."

Okitsu had no response, though Richtofen had not expected one. The working relationship with Division 9 was mainly one of resource-sharing rather than allegiance.

Richtofen said to Okitsu, "Doctor Okitsu… You've mentioned to me in the past that Group 935 scientists have interfered with the work of Division 9 at the Rising Sun Facility. Has this continued?"

Okitsu spoke calmly, "While Doctor Maxis was still present on site our working relationship with Group 935 was cordial. However, since his departure, these men have continued meddling with our work, slowing our progress and squandering our resources. Though the Army passed ownership to Group 935, we are its founders and have worked tirelessly on our projects there. There is little respect between us."

Richtofen asked, "Have your complaints to Maxis or your leaders been accounted for?"

"We in Division 9 are not so quick to protest. We have issued no formal complaints. We have worked diligently under such conditions, and our leaders have taken notice. They will be issuing a broader selection of test subjects for us in the coming weeks."

"How exciting!"

Okitsu shifted to a more frustrated tone, "Group 935, on the other hand, has issued an order coming directly from Doctor Maxis: All weapon projects at the Rising Sun Facility are to be halted, immediately. Because of his insolence, our hard work towards the Ray Gun may be wasted. Their scientists want to shift focus towards these… ridiculous Perk-a-Colas."

Lehto chimed in, "Come to think of it, the factory at Der Riese stopped production just a few days ago. Doctor Richtofen, perhaps this was an order to all Group 935 facilities."

A twinge of fear struck Doctor Richtofen: This could be the end of the Wunderwaffe project if Maxis truly is shutting down all weapon research. He thought aloud, "Such a shift in focus could mean the breaking of our relationship with the Reichstag… It could be the beginning of the end… Nein, nein, I have not received such an order here at the castle. It may perhaps be a tightening of focus towards more… promising weapon projects."

Richtofen began to smile again, before noticing the glare from Okitsu. Richtofen continued, "Gentlemen, I do not believe this will be an issue. We still have enough funding for our own projects outside of Doctor Maxis' demands. We will wait und see where this issue leads us."

The room filled with silence and Richtofen returned his gaze to his legal pad, now ready to address a final issue raised by Herr Meier. Joy.

"Herr Meier! Herr Meier… can I just call you Jakob?"

Jakob replied post-haste, "Absolutely, Doctor."

"Splendid! How has morale been in the mines?"

"Uh, not, not great, sir. The mercenaries we've hired have demanded higher pay with the increase in incidents as of late. With their demands unanswered, they've stopped enforcing rules amongst the s-, uh, villagers working for us."

"Oh dear." Richtofen began to chuckle, "Well, we can't have a rebellion within our own rebellion, now can we?"

"No, sir."

"Well, if all diplomatic solutions have been attempted… "

"Yes, Doctor. I've tried everything you told me to do."

"Hm… Doctor Groph? Would our financial situation be able to accommodate a pay increase?"

Groph fumbled with his notes, "Er, let me… Ah, well with our funds towards the MPD project as well as… side projects, this would not be possible. We are spread a bit thin, Doctor. Perhaps… we could seek reparations with the Reichstag, under the guise we are working for Maxis, of course."

Richtofen placed his palm towards Groph, speaking firmly, "That will not be necessary. Jakob? Have the head of staff arrange a meeting with myself und the mercenaries. I will sort this all out myself, und if they will not cooperate we may consider searching for candidates among the Reichstag's soldiers at our facilities: Men not paid out of our own pockets, but men who are loyal."

Meier replied, "Thank you, Doctor. I will do just that."

"One more thing: Have you noticed anyone acting… suspicious amongst your staff?"

"Sus- No, no, sir. Just angry or irritable or… normal."

"I only ask because I have reason to believe that there may be a spy among our ranks."

Groph leaned onto the table, causing it to wobble, "A spy working for Maxis?"

Okitsu asked, now interested, "From the Allies?"

Richtofen raised both hands, convincing them to settle, "I can't be certain. I have noticed a select few members within Group 935 asking far too many questions und snooping. One that comes to mind is the boy who arrives with our Verrückt shipments… the name currently escapes me."

Okitsu inquired, "Pablo?"
"Ja! That's the one. With every shipment, he asks a bit too specifically about our operations here… I do not trust him."

Okitsu scoffed, "Pablo was vetted by our men. I assure you he can be trusted."

"No offense, Doctor, but we can never be sure who is trustworthy, especially during such a crucial phase in our development. Doctor Groph, you should remain vigilant as I leave for Der Riese in the morning. I shall be leaving the castle under your watch."

Groph said, "I am honored, Doctor. I will be watchful for traitors."

Lehto extended his hand, gesturing towards the outside of the room, "And what about your court-appointed lackey, Doctor Richtofen? Don't you suspect any transgression from a student of Maxis himself?"

Richtofen assured Lehto, "Doctor Wagner is harmless!"

Okitsu warned, "For now, he is."

Richtofen, now slightly angered by the implication, added, "I have spent years working with him. His loyalties lie with Group 935, and soon he will come around to seeing Maxis' incompetence as its leader, just as all of you have. One day, he may even serve at this table. I believe he can change for the better with time. For now, we will focus on keeping our operations a secret. Our progress will become apparent to the world at large when our mission is complete, and it will be in spite of Maxis and his orders!"

The rest at the table seemed to feel a mix of satisfaction, fear, and exhaustion, saying nothing else as Richtofen calmed himself.

Richtofen scratched out the final talking point on his pad, gesturing to the others, "If our business is concluded, then this meeting is hereby… adjourned!"

Okitsu and Lehto immediately stood up from their seats, Meier following suit, as they all gathered their belongings and prepared to leave. Richtofen inquired, "Can I get any of you some refreshments before you leave? Hm? Hot tea? Coffee? I know the mountain-tops are a bit less hospitable than the swamp, Doctor Okitsu. I'm sure-"

Every man stood silent, still, and waiting as the sound of a dog's bark emanated from outside the door to the room, followed by someone's voice urging the dog to hush.

The voices began to whisper dark thoughts, pushing Richtofen towards the door. He approached it slowly, twisting the knob and pulling it open. Revealed in the doorway was a shell-shocked Doctor Wagner, standing right up against where the door had been, Samantha's dog Fluffy at his feet whining.

Flustered by the eavesdropper and the whirlwind of words circling inside his mind, Richtofen only asked, "What are you doing here?"

Wagner seemed just as ruffled by the moment, no doubt from the revelations he had just had regarding Edward and the four other men staring directly into him.

"I… was looking for Samantha. She had been roaming the labs, awakened from some kind of nightmare. I made sure she was alright and found Fluffy loose as well. I heard you speaking and… I did not realize there was a meeting being held."

"Oh… " Richtofen waited a moment for an accusation or reprimand from the young scientist.

"I heard… you were talking about Maxis. And his orders. What's this about a rebellion? And, and mines? What's going on, Doctor?"

"I can explain, Doctor Wagner. In due time. I simply need you to return to your post und await my instruction-"

"Have you betrayed Doctor Maxis? I had my suspicions something was wrong here, like your scientists were always hiding something from me as I passed by… But, I could never have imagined that you… "

"Please, remain calm. It will all make sense-"

"No, explain it to me at once and then I will contact Ludvig. Is that Doctor Groph in there? Doctor Okitsu? Lehto?"

Richtofen glanced back at the others, positioned just as they were before, Meier sweating, and the others looking to Edward. Groph's expression demanded Edward respond appropriately.

He returned to Wagner, now sure he was serious in his threats. He straightened his posture, turning his head back to the other men so they knew he was addressing them, "The meeting is over. Return to your posts. I will contact you this evening."

One by one, they shuffled out, neglecting any eye contact with either Richtofen or Wagner as they stared into one another. Groph came last, slowing his pace, looking to Richtofen as an offer of solidarity.

Richtofen gestured Groph to the door, "That will be all, Groph. Take the dog to Samantha's room."

As he left the room, Groph closed the wooden door behind him.

Richtofen began to pace around the room, sweat building as the volume of the voices rose in his head.

Wagner spoke up, "Well?"

After a moment, Richtofen turned back towards Wagner, "Two years ago during MTD testing, I was accidentally teleported to... the Moon. I say 'accidentally,' however, this proved to be fate calling to me. There, I discovered a pyramid built by an ancient race of beings… It was able to teleport me to a temple with a massive deposit of Element 115, and it was able to send me back to Der Riese."

"The… Moon? Why did you not share this with the rest of Group 935?"

"The MTD tests were behind Maxis' back. He… he simply could not see the potential at that time. He has always been unable to look past his own ego… This pyramid is a gateway of some kind… to a dimension beyond our perception. It holds an extraordinary potential to change the world for the better. We built a base around the pyramid to study it and perhaps, one day, unlock it."

"Why keep this from Maxis?"

"His deal with the Reichstag stands to tear Group 935 and its ideals apart at the seams! We are accomplices in Germany's actions in this war, und I am trying to alter the legacy we will leave behind. I am trying to free humanity from its limitations! Maxis would only stand in our way. Do you understand, Doctor Wagner? Please tell me you do. I want your support."

Wagner shook his head, glancing around the stony meeting room, searching for an answer, "I… see now, Edward. Your vision."

Surprised and relieved, Edward approached Wagner, arm to his shoulder, "Then join me, Hans."

Wagner stepped away, "You are a madman. I'm sorry, old friend, but Maxis will hear what you have done. Step back."

Edward's expression changed to one of shock, and most of all, fear. Wagner began to pace around him towards the phone attached to the opposite wall. Richtofen glanced around the room; He felt as if the walls were shaking and the ground crumbling beneath him. The voices screamed violent, agonizing thoughts in his mind, pulling him to the ground. He shut his eyes, searching for the words to set things right. As Wagner picked up the phone and began to dial, Edward knew there was no other way.

He reached into his carrying bag below the table, shuffling through his belongings before finding the leather sheath of his Hitler Youth Knife. Through the fear and vertigo, Richtofen rose as tall as he could stand, walking to the pace of the wailing voices.

Now inches away from Wagner, he grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him from the phone. Wagner froze, shocked by the force in Richtofen's grip as he dropped the corded phone, which slammed into the wall.

"Edward, what are you… No!"

The sheath now on the ground, Richtofen plunged the short blade deep into Wagner's breast, puncturing his lung. With his hands, Wagner tried to push Richtofen away, but his strength was not enough to keep Richtofen from removing the blade, and performing a stabbing motion again. And again, And again.

Warm, pumping blood shot from his chest onto Richtofen's jacket as Wagner gasped for air and saliva mixed with blood dribbled from his lips. He lost the strength to fight back, his arms now resting at his sides. Richtofen stared deeply into Wagner's bright, blue eyes, now covered with fluid as tears seeped out. Again he stabbed Wagner in the chest, holding the blade firmly in place. Wagner's torso began to lower to the ground as his legs crumpled. Richtofen lowered down with him, voices blocking any other sound in the room. After a few moments, he let go of the blade embedded in Wagner's upper chest.

Richtofen fell back, his entire body exhausted and his mind clouded, unable to process the moment in its intensity. For several minutes, Edward laid on the cold floor soaked through layers of clothing in another man's blood. Over time, the voices dissipated, and Richtofen was left completely, profoundly alone.

Under the setting sun of the Austrian mountain-top, Richtofen slowed his pace to a crawl, falling to his knees in the thick snow. He looked back to the road he had come from, completely invisible through the fog and bitter wind-driven snow. Below him was a large, man-sized bag he had dragged to that point, leaving a trail imprinted on the ground.

Richtofen crawled to the bag, barely able to make it out through the intensity of the fog. He pulled on the zipper from the end closest to him towards the other. From the unopened end of the bag, Richtofen hoisted it up, dumping the contents onto the snow. Doctor Wagner's twisted corpse laid bare on the harsh, white surface of the mountain, face-up, the knife remaining in his chest.

Richtofen searched again for any view of the road he came from or the Castle, unable to see either from his current location. He folded the bag, placing it under the arm of his thick fur- coat before gazing over the body one last time.

No second thought given, Richtofen turned back towards the trail the body bag had left behind, embarking towards the road, his mind at ease knowing he had done the right thing.

Chapter 27: Penance

Washrooms, The Giant ("Der Riese"), near Breslau

Dr. Edward Richtofen

June 4th, 1943

The reflection in the cracked mirror stared back at Edward, uneasy in his presence. The fractured face was afraid of what he was seeing. He could not stand to see the reflection's look of contempt and disdain, but looking away would mean he was alone.

Edward splashed more water into his face from the faucet, rubbing it into his tired eyes before checking the mirror once again for the one person who would never leave him.

He noticed a red stain around the collar of his officer's uniform, present despite the days of washing and drying over and over. Turning to the side, Edward was satisfied as the darkness of the room and the shadow of his own head blocked out the stain; Surely no one would notice.

Edward lifted his cap, ensuring his hair was presentable underneath, before checking his teeth for the third time. The auditorium would be dark and focus would be on the projection, however, Edward would know if something was wrong, and for that reason he must appear perfect.

The stalls of the washroom seemed to all be empty, the room filled with complete silence; Yet, Richtofen felt a chill run up his spine as he sensed a presence in the room with him. Glancing past himself in the mirror, there was nobody, but his heart raced as he heard a whisper from someone immediately to his rear, "Looking sharp, Edward."

He began to panic, searching the mirror for any presence, before turning his head towards the source. Richtofen fell to the floor at the sight of the older man standing just inches away from him. He stood at a similar height to Edward while standing, slightly taller due to an elegant black hat with a purple ribbon around the brim. His face was distinguished without any blemishes, and his smile was encapsulated by a perfectly trimmed white beard. He presented an aura of wealth and taste through his black suit and purple tie made of fine silk, unwrinkled and without any visible debris.

Richtofen asked, "Who are you?"

The man extended a hand to pull Richtofen to his feet, his other resting on a black cane, "You know who I am… don't you?"

Prepared to accept his hand, Richtofen realized exactly who this man was. Instead, he placed his knees on the floor and bowed, "My… Lord…"

The man in black insisted, reaching for Edward's hand, "Please, Edward, you are embarrassing yourself. Pick yourself up from this filthy floor."

He did as the man requested, accepting his hand and rising to his feet. The mysterious man's hands were cold and his grasp seemed weak, yet he lifted Edward up with great strength and force. Edward could do nothing but stare into the eyes of the presence before him, captivated by his appearance.

He lifted his cane from the floor, walking with it as he paced around Richtofen in the middle of the washroom. "I know the death of your underling has troubled you… You believe it could have been avoided. You have allowed it to lessen your resolve… I am here to assure you, Doctor, that your actions were necessary. You have adequately proven yourself as our loyal servant, and I am proud to call you my apprentice."

Flustered, Richtofen acknowledged his compliment, "Thank you… I- I did not expect to see you here… in the flesh."

He smirked, "This form is one that beings like you find disarming. It garners attention and, most importantly, respect. As you know, the Apothicons are still trapped, however, the pyramid has allowed us to speak to you in this dimension. You made contact with its surface; You have touched the Aether. Your body acts as our vessel, our eyes through which to view this dimension. Only you can see me, Edward, and only you can hear me, but I am very real."

"Then you are… the voices in mein head?"

"I am one of many, but you may think of me as a representative of the whole. I am your teacher, your guide… your master."

"I am honored to be in your presence… But, why today?"

"Another lesson awaits you on this day. I cannot tell you what that lesson will be, as it may waver your path. The time to open the gateway is approaching, and you must be prepared for what lies ahead. Due to the nature of your path, you will have many enemies who seek to slow your progress. Before you can Ascend, these enemies must be dealt with."

"Enemies… Maxis?"

"If Maxis succeeds and you do not, humanity is doomed. His deserved death will satisfy us, however, there are more who will stand in your way who must be dealt with accordingly. They are all seeking to harm you, Edward."

Richtofen's chest began to ache, his heart pumping vigorously. The man took notice, "Fear not. The Apothicons will guide you. You will be protected as long as you keep your promise to us. Hans Wagner was the first of many. We trust you will do the right thing, as you always have."

Edward calmed himself enough to speak up, "Thank you, my Lord. I am grateful for your generosity… und your guidance. When Maxis scurries out from the hole he has dug for himself… I will strike. The gateway will open, und I will Ascend."

"Yes... and you will be remembered as The One who prevented the certain destruction of your world. Will you be ready to free us when the time comes?"

"Of course, my Lord. My scientists have been working on a project at one of our airfields… We are prototyping radio towers to spread the Aether's influence across the entire Earth once I have passed through. When the day comes, we will be ready."

He paced in front of each stall in the washroom silently, stopping to focus his attention on one in particular. He turned to Richtofen, "I must warn you Edward, the message from the Order was correct: The Americans are watching, and soon they will be coming for you. Humanity's war will come to an end in their favor, and Group 935 will inevitably be no more. You will know with time what you must do."

"Thank you, my-"

There was a sharp thump which emanated from behind the stall door the man stood before; Someone was inside. Edward immediately reached into his jacket for a blade he had brought from the labs, as the man in black smiled, offering a calming gesture to Richtofen. He approached Richtofen, saying, "Don't worry about that, old boy. I believe you should be giving a presentation in a few minutes, no?"

Edward glanced at the stall, its occupant now silent, "My lord, they heard-"

"Go. It will be alright."

He hesitated, but accepted the presence's wishes, turning to the door of the washroom as he was beckoned to stop just before opening the door.

"One more thing, Edward. As my apprentice, I feel as if I should give you a more appropriate title to address me by. You may call me The Shadowman."

Edward turned to face him, but was surprised to see no one else where he once stood. The aura was gone, and the washroom was completely silent.

Edward shoved the door open, pacing quickly towards the auditorium doors, contemplating the reality of what just transpired. The voices are not simply delusions; They are real, and they are powerful. It would be unwise to turn back now.

Near the auditorium door was a German rifleman standing guard, now taking notice of Richtofen's arrival. As he attempted to pass through the doors into the cramped hall, he was pulled aside by the soldier.

"Halt! I need to search you."

"Oh, really? Do you know who I am? I am Doctor Edward Richtofen: I am to speak in this presentation! Who would I be here to harm? Have you ever heard of the Hippocratic Oath?!"

"It is just a precaution, Doctor, calm down. I have orders from my superiors to check anyone that passes through. Even you."

Before he could protest, the soldier began man-handling Richtofen, patting down his pockets and running his hand along the inside of his uniform. He removed a foldable Doctor's knife from the inside of the jacket, examining it closely.

"What are you doing with this?"

Richtofen reached for the knife, daring not to cross into the guard's personal space as he flinched back. "That is simply a tool for my work, you simpleton! Give it back to me!"

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Doctor. You can have it back at the end of the presentation. It will be safe with me."

Richtofen stepped forward, peering directly into him. The middle-aged rifleman did not flinch, placing the knife into his breast pocket and gripping his Gewehr as he stared back. The stand-off lasted for a few moments before the rifleman reached for a medal on Richtofen's chest, viewing it closely before Edward pulled away.

"That uniform… It belongs to men of honor and prestige; Men who would give their lives for the safety of the German people. How did you acquire it?"

Richtofen adjusted his posture, reacquiring his jovial grin, "It was a gift."

He pushed past the rifleman as he entered the concert hall, shrouded in darkness.

The booming voice of Doctor Porter bounced off the interior walls as the crowd listened intently, "... and despite these setbacks, our progress is unwavering! Together, united, we are strong, and our many facilities around the world strive to improve the human condition and secure a prosperous future for our race! Why, just last month, Group 935 celebrated twelve years at the forefront of modern technological innovation, and with each passing year we open new facilities while being presented with brand new opportunities to change the world for the betterment of all! Our exponential growth as an organization is due in no small part to our allies in the Reichstag and their support over the years! As this war for a powerful German people rages on, we must step forward and defend the principles of the Party with the power bestowed to us! If the war is lost, this power will fall into the wrong hands! Furthermore… "

Richtofen walked with purpose towards the front row of the audience, finding the empty seat reserved for him next to Doctor Lehto.

Lehto leaned over to the seated Richtofen, whispering, "You're late."

Richtofen replied at the same volume, "Fashionably, Doctor, fashionably."

"I need to speak with you in private, Doctor."

"It can wait, surely?"

"It's about the... Kino Facility."

Richtofen's interest piqued, he considered leaving to discuss this with Lehto, "That's… damn! I will be presenting in just a few moments, I can't leave. What is this specifically regarding?"

"Our agents believe they have a precise location. Maxis' assistant, Sophia, seems to have found work elsewhere in Berlin, but she entered a closed theater last night with no escort. She may have been gathering her belongings."

"Sophia? Ludvig must be devastated… Extraordinary work, Doctor… Soon we will know what Maxis has really been up to."

"Thank you." Lehto leaned back in his chair, whispering to Richtofen, "You seem tense, Richtofen. Are you prepared for your speech?"

Richtofen found himself caught off-guard at the question; Of course he was prepared, but other troubles lay heavy on his mind.

"It's only nerves."

"I see… does it have to do with the boy?"

Richtofen flashed a piercing glare, "What would it have to do with Doctor Wagner?"

"I seem to recall our last encounter ending abruptly due to his presence. You said you handled it… How, you did not specify."

"The 'how' should be of no concern to a man in your place. I convinced him to leave Group 935 und keep quiet about what he heard."

"And you trusted him?"

"And I… I've worked with him for years. We were partners. He did as I instructed without question."

Lehto said nothing, further frustrating Richtofen. How could Lehto ask such a presumptuous question? What was he trying to imply? What was he hiding? Edward began recalling his history with Lehto, clinging to any potential hints of betrayal. He claimed loyalty to Edward's cause, but has he proven loyalty? Groph proved his loyalty when he executed the prisoners. Meier was both loyal and afraid, treating the village people the ways he demanded. Schuster… Schuster was an old friend. He would never betray Richtofen. Or… would he? The last time the two had spoken, Schuster questioned Richtofen's morality. He simply does not understand what needs to be done; He is weak, like Meier, like Lehto, like Maxis, like… Wagner.

Porter marked his final words by calling Richtofen to the stage, "... Today we have the privilege of hearing a word from representatives of various Group 935 facilities. Our first guest speaker comes from Der Eisendrache and is a former Der Riese alumnus. Doctor Edward Richtofen needs no further introduction. Doctor?" He extended his hand to Edward in the front row as the crowd of scientists applauded his name.

As Richtofen stood from his seat, Lehto pulled him aside, whispering, "Good luck. You will be alright."

The comment sparked a panic in Richtofen: He would be alright? As opposed to 'not alright?' Why would he be in any trouble? From whom?

The roaring crowd signaled him to approach the stage, and he did as they demanded, ascending a staircase before greeting Porter at the podium.

Porter offered his hand, which Richtofen hesitantly accepted. Before he left the stage, Porter whispered into Edward's ear, "Knock them dead, Eddie," then patted his back.

Eddie? Where had he heard that nickname? What does he know? Why are the stage lights so bright? Look at that crowd; What do they want? What are they waiting for? Who do they really work for?

He felt as if the eyes of all of his enemies, past, present, and future, were now watching him, waiting to strike. Edward reached into his jacket, remembering his blade was gone.

He placed his hands together, peering down at the wooden podium where his set of Reichstag-approved talking points were resting. The room seemed devoid of any life whatsoever, silent and enveloped in darkness.

"Well, I am positively filled with exuberance being here today. It seems just yesterday I began my tenure in Group 935 within these walls. Der Riese is where it all began, really. If not for Der Riese und its deposit of Element 115… where would we all be? Me, well, I would most likely be fine… Of course, I would have never met many of the great minds we have here at our disposal. I would like to start by offering… kudos, I suppose, to the great men of this organization. To Doctor Porter, of course, for his role as acting Chief Scientific Officer. To Doctor Blome, for offering us a smattering of his own independent research. To Doctor Groph, my protégé, and acting Chief of Operations at Der Eisendrache. To Herr Sauers, head of our excavation team; If not for him, we would not have the new supply of Element 115 at our Siberian Facility. And of course, to Doctor Maxis… wherever he may be."

The crowd applauded his kudos, silencing as the slide being projected changed from Group 935's insignia to an image of two massive coils at the top of Der Eisendrache. Richtofen continued, "At the castle we have been conducting research that we hope will aid each branch of the German military as the war grows in scale. Pictured here is an enlarged bipolar coil based on research from Nikola Tesla… credit where credit is due. Using the inherent electrical properties of Element 115, this coil can create a barrier that will destroy any foreign objects that pass within its range. We have also begun testing a feature which will destroy a target at a distance with a concentration of the coil's energy towards a set of coordinates. This device would service the Luftwaffe as an aerial defense system and we are awaiting grant approval to continue pursuing the project."

The slide switched once more to a blueprint for a mechanized suit of armor with bulbous, round joints and a view-port where the user's head would be located similar to a diving suit.

"In collaboration with the excavation team, we have also begun prototyping what will be known as the Panzersoldat. What began as a suit designed for more efficient excavation and construction became armor that could turn any ground soldier into a living tank. The elbow joints are designed to have interchangeable, functional arms. Panzersoldaten could be equipped with extendable claws for lifting debris and moving heavy machinery, as well as an outfitted machine gun, wrist-mounted rockets, und a flamethrower. Once the prototypes are complete und the Reichstag sees their potential, the Panzersoldat will be essential to any ground-based offensive attack."

The slide switched once more to an image of a prototype Wunderwaffe based on the original, modified and outfitted with a rangefinder at the barrel. Behind the weapon, Doctor Richtofen had an arm around Doctor Wagner, and the two were smiling as they looked over the weapon. Richtofen was flustered, staring at the image on the wall until a few members of the crowd began to chuckle, possibly at the uncomfortable nature of the photo and Edward's reaction. This quickly snapped Richtofen from his daze, who turned back to his notes, daring not to look away again.

"Der Eisendrache… has also been at the forefront of Group 935's weapon research, prototyping designs from our various research stations. Though Der Riese's factory has halted its assembly lines, I am confident Group 935's weaponry will change the ways in which warfare is conducted, more so now than any other time in human history. Project Thunder, Die Glocke, P-JG… the 'Ray' 'Gun'... That one's a work in progress… "

Richtofen paused for a moment, the fear and anger swelling as he thought of his enemies around him and the torment he had endured. He channeled his rage into his words, "I have a vision for such weaponry. The Americans see themselves as saviors, as heroes for their Western allies, yet they fail to see what awaits them within German borders. They will fail as they und the Russians push into our territory, where they will face the technology we have created with our minds und our spirits! We will send their armies back to the oceans... und one day I envision scores of Wehrmacht soldiers storming American beaches equipped with Wunderwaffen, empowered to fight with 115-imbued elixirs that allow for super-human abilities! They will fight to the last breath to stamp out America's armies, their path cleared by an armored division of Panzersoldaten! Their people will beg for mercy under the Party, und they shall be provided for as loyal citizens of the Reich. If they would not surrender, then they would face complete devastation under the threat of a 115-Missile sent from their shores to major cities! Should any of our enemies seek to rebel, they would face our army of Untoten, trained und loyal to Germany und her territories! When the fighting has concluded und peace has been brought home, Group 935 shall be remembered as the Reich's most trusted ally in the fight. This vision of the future will only be possible with our complete dedication und focus! If we should succeed, Group 935 will be humanity's greatest achievement!"

The crowd began to applaud and cheer, the noise crackling and echoing throughout the auditorium like thunder. Richtofen's mind began to calm, his face red and his throat sore from the volume of his speech. Though he knew his words were empty and Group 935 was doomed, he felt a moment of triumph as he received a standing ovation from scientists before him. He felt his confidence returning.

Raising his fist into the air, the uproar of the crowd continued, putting a smile on Richtofen's face. Something quickly changed in the air, however, as whispers began to fill his head. They were short, cutting words in the back of his mind. Edward's blood ran cold and his stomach dropped as the voices beckoned him to turn around.

Edward turned from the roaring crowd and his ears began to ring. He gazed into the darkness beside the stage, noticing a figure standing within. He could not make out a face, only the silhouette of a man, roughly his own height. An arm abruptly cut through the darkness, a Luger in its hand pointed directly at Richtofen. Time seemed to freeze and the room became silent, Richtofen focused completely on the end of the gun before him. Cutting through the silence, the sharp voice of The Shadowman uttered one word, "Move!"

Richtofen dove to the ground behind the podium, and just at that instant, a shot rang out from behind the stage whizzing just past Richtofen's head.

The entire crowd turned into a frenzy as members piled into the doorways at the end of each row of seats. There were screams of fear and anger as each man tried to push through and preserve his own life.

Richtofen's breathing was short and erratic, further constricting his thoughts while he searched his jacket for his blade. He had none; He was completely defenseless.

He turned towards the people crowding the doorways, where he could see German soldiers attempting to push through into the auditorium to no avail. His heart pounded furiously, and with a moment of bravery, he glanced aside from the podium towards his attacker's position. There was no one there any longer.

The soldier who had confiscated Richtofen's blade managed to push through the flood of humanity, raising his weapon and searching for anyone near the stage. He looked at Edward cowering under the podium, calling to him, "Doctor Richtofen!"

Fearing conspiracy from the soldier, Edward leapt from his position and sprinted behind the stage to a back door, not stopping for a moment as he traversed the hallways and found an exit towards the courtyard. There were people running and screaming in every direction, but Richtofen had only one destination in his mind.

He ran for the laboratories, ascending to the second floor after checking around each corner. He entered the lab-space temporarily assigned to him during his stay, the same space where he and Maxis had originally tested the MTD. Immediately upon entering, he slammed the door shut, activating the electronic locks.

He ran for his locker under a table at the opposite wall. As he prepared to input the combination, he realized the door was ajar already. His Luger was missing.

Richtofen searched a drawer for any form of defense, only finding another Doctor's knife. He gripped it in his right hand as he searched for his diary, the only source outside of his own brain that held the locker combination. He searched every drawer of the table, before taking notice of the MTD prototype against the back wall of the laboratory. The tarp meant to be covering it had been removed, and near the base on a stool was the diary, opened.

Richtofen hurried to the book, and he began to shake as he realized what page he had written was now visible:

"Wagner had to die. The voices know what is best. There was no other way. Hans was a danger to our cause. I do not regret it. He was a servant to Maxis. 9:21 I hated him. I always hated him. He never believed in me. He would never have been my friend. You have no friends. Teddy did the right thing. It's okay. Shut up. He was worthless. Just like you. I liked it. I would do it again. You were always The Butcher. He said 'Ascend From Darkness.' Maxis will pay, he and his daughter. When I see him again, I will cut his throat and watch him bleed like a pig."

Reading words he himself had already written, Richtofen was still in shock. Whoever had read these words knew what Richtofen had already done, and what would be done.

He ran to a nearby table with the diary, placing it down as he searched for a drawer with a container of baking powder. His shaky hands dumped the whole contents on the pages, as he fumbled in search of a small brush. Now in hand, he used the brush to wipe away excess powder, leaving behind outlines of fingerprints along the sides of the page. He used clear tape to grab an imprint of them, setting them aside.

The prints now gathered, he turned to the back pages of his diary, comparing each individual print to the prints of Maxis, Groph, Schuster, Lehto, Wagner, Porter, Meier, Okitsu, but not a single print matched those he had found.

Finally, he compared them to his own. They all matched. Every single one. No prints had touched this page but Richtofen's.

He began to hear whispers all around the dark recesses of the lab, drawing his fears in every direction. Edward pulled the knife from his pocket, running to a corner of the room, tossing a table on its side to hide behind. His breathing became sporadic, and tears began to well in his eyes as he barricaded himself in the corner, knife in hand.

He screamed to anyone that would listen, "Who did this?! Who tried to kill me?! Is it the Order?! Are you listening to me now?! Why have you done this… why… "

There was a knocking at the door, and the voice of the German rifleman from before, "Doctor Richtofen?! Are you in there? It's alright, we only have a few questions! We have not been able to locate the shooter. Doctor?"

Richtofen said nothing, pulling the table closer and gripping his blade tighter. He felt the presence of The Shadowman nearby, though he could not see him.

Richtofen whispered to him, "Was it the Illuminati? The Americans? Someone in Group 935? My own allies?"

The Shadowman only chuckled, uttering in his refined, gentlemanly tone, "If only you knew, old boy."

To my beloved Emperor,

It has been several months since I last received orders from you, and I cannot help but say that I am at my wits end.

However, despite being directly dispatched by you, they regard my work with suspicious eyes. As such, I have been barred from, and forbidden access to, almost all research areas.

The situation continues to worsen. The installation commander ordered me to hand over my weapons for the duration of my stay. If he had not shown me the relevant papers ordering me to comply to maintain security, marked with your signature and seal, I would no doubt have objected. I have never raised any doubts whatsoever concerning your judgement Sir, but I am concerned that these circumstances may prove a great hindrance to my mission.

I understand how important the alliance is for our righteous cause and final victory, but the influence of the German operating force "Group 935" has become increasingly worrisome. Over the last few months, the number of officers they have here has increased; I cannot help but think that it is they who are propelling the plan.

Judging by what I have seen, the research done by Division 9 has been far beyond acceptable. In fact, their aberrational methods of weapons research can only be described as "abnormal". Not only do they use prisoners of war for living-body tests, but they have also been trying to control the supernatural powers of Element 115. I therefore think that if we permit them to continue their work, dark clouds may soon loom over our great country.

I, your foolish servant, will continue to watch them, and will report to you whenever possible. If the idea so pleases you, I think it is necessary that you intervene directly in order for us to better understand the aim of Division 9's research, and make clear the ramifications of their plans.

I hope you receive this message.

Your humble servant,

Takeo Masaki.

Chapter 28: Honor

Living Quarters, Rising Sun Facility ("Shi No Numa"), Empire of Japan

Cpt. Takeo Masaki

July 24th, 1943

"When I consider the dead and their families, I cannot repress my mental agony."

- Emperor Hirohito

A cool wind blows, soothing the skin. Calm waters flow, carrying worries away. Takeo Masaki sits alone, at peace, resting on a log beneath Grandfather's cherry blossom tree, its rich pink petals fluttering against the breeze. In the garden, there are children at play. They are innocent, unburdened by the weight of war, free from guilt. If only they knew the cost of such a life... If only Father were here to see them.

A stench filled the air around Takeo, one of swamp water and diesel fuel. The children and the tree faded, leaving the meditating Samurai alone in his musty quarters. He was surrounded by rotting wood, the only hint of natural light creeping in through a cracked window at the foot of his cot.

Takeo unfolded his legs, rising to his feet and searching the single desk drawer in the room for a match. With it, he lit a row of three candles resting on a metal tray beside his cot. He returned to his previous form, legs crossed, muscles relaxed, and head raised as he breathed in the masking scent of the candles. However, they did little to deter his intrusive thoughts. Weeks had passed since Takeo last received word from his father. Saburō was among the forces who conquered Manchuria, and he later assisted in the occupation of the Philippines. Even with his many great accomplishments in service to the glorious Empire, he was ordered to return home by the Emperor. Since then, he has shared with Takeo many troubling, dangerous ideas about the Emperor. Takeo first felt anger towards his father, resenting his words in their insulting, misguided nature. Now, however, he only feared for Saburō's life. The Emperor is a merciful leader, and He respects the Masaki family for its continuing service to the Empire, however, Saburō has done the unthinkable in questioning Him.

Takeo could not return home to clear his father's name, for his duty is here, in this swamp, overseeing the operations of Division 9 and Group 935. For years, the Rising Sun Facility operated as an extension of the Empire, led by Doctor Okitsu. In 1940, however, Germany's Group 935 was given control of the entire facility on the goodwill of Japan's alliance in the war. Since then, Group 935 has influenced the facility's research, and the scientists stationed here seem to have changed their methods as a result, including Doctor Okitsu. Takeo was still haunted by the screams as mens' arms were frozen and shattered while they were still alive. He could hear them weeping as they were injected with Element 115 and left to suffer in inhospitable conditions. The incident that caused Takeo to be barred from research areas involved an elderly civilian being forced to ingest 115. Takeo nearly decapitated the German holding the man down, and the scientists begrudgingly agreed to halt the experiment after Takeo's demands. The elderly man has since disappeared.

Months prior to now, Takeo was dispatched as an envoy of the Emperor, on a mission to investigate the facility's operations and report his findings. He had been met with great hostility and resistance from both Group 935 and Division 9 staff ever since. Over a month prior, Takeo sent a message to the Emperor informing him of his mistreatment and the cruel methods of experimentation he had witnessed. He had yet to receive any orders.

Without orders, nor access to any areas of research in the facility, Takeo could do little but meditate, biding his time. He felt closer to a prisoner than an extension of the Emperor himself, confined to his living quarters during daylight, and his belongings, including his family's sword, were locked away by the Security Commissioner.

Before arriving at the swamp, Takeo had performed his own research into Doctor Okitsu's background. The Emperor, in His wisdom, at one time deemed him a pioneer in Japan's growing scientific progress. He was known as an honorable, righteous servant to the Empire. However, the man Takeo had met held no such distinction. Okitsu sees little value in the lives of his test subjects, viewing them as beneath an animal. He wields his arrogance and ego like a shield, while lashing out at any who would defy his demands with a sword made up of anger and pettiness. He only saw a warrior like Takeo as a bumbling brute of no use to anyone. With every interaction, Okitsu wore a sneer of contempt for all those he viewed as beneath him. Perhaps due to Group 935's influence, the Empire's greatest scientist has succumbed to outside evils.

Takeo's eyes re-opened as he heard the shuffling of feet and muttering in English outside. Someone was quickly approaching.

Before Takeo could rise to his feet, Doctor Russo entered unannounced, a look of disdain on his face.

In a vaguely Italian accent, Russo declared his purpose, "You're needed in the labs, Samurai."

Takeo replied, fluent in the English language from his travels, "What sort of emergency?"

"A test subject has locked himself inside the laboratory... We believe you may be of some assistance in coaxing him out."

Takeo strode to the door after putting out the candles near his cot. "Hm, and why have you not broken into the room and shot him like a dog? Perhaps that would be too quick and painless for your taste?"

Doctor Russo grinned, chuckling to himself, "Were it so easy… Come now, we must get back to work."

Russo motioned for Takeo to follow, turning and pacing out of the room into the cramped hallway separating the living quarters. They stepped through an open archway onto a wooden path leading towards the facility's main building. The air was unbearably warm and muggy, and sweat began to build beneath Takeo's officer uniform. Mosquitos pestered the pair as they approached a staircase leading to the second floor of the main building. The building was made primarily of wood, with a rounded thatch roof. The duo passed into a room lined with shelves holding ration shipments from the mainland. Nearby was a prototype for one of Group 935's Perk-a-Cola machines. It was a completely silver, box-like design with an indentation near the top, and in this indentation a circular port where the drink inside would be retrieved. An electronic, glowing sign was meant to be sat on top, but was currently on a nearby shelf, detached. Group 935 had begun sending these prototypes to every facility under their care, using their staff as willing test subjects for the elixirs, meant to assist in various duties. Takeo did not trust the Colas just as he did not trust the Germans.

As Takeo and Doctor Russo passed through another doorway, Takeo noticed two SS soldiers towing behind, both unarmed. They all exited a doorway that led to an outer balcony of the building, where a gondola waited for their arrival. As the four men entered, Takeo took another look at the soldiers' weapons and their stone-faced expressions, gazing into nothingness. Takeo asked Russo aloud, "Is the subject armed?"

Russo shrugged, not looking Takeo in his eyes, "Possibly. We can't be certain as of yet."

Takeo waited for the men to start the gondola, but they only stared blankly outside, waiting for something. Takeo then realized that something was Doctor Okitsu.

Okitsu arrived, smiling and chatting with his assistant, a journal under his arm. He stepped into the elevator, bowing his head as he saw Takeo. He stood as tall as the soldiers in their army boots, looking down upon everyone else. As he found his place standing next to Takeo, his assistant shut the door and sent them towards the labs. The generator outside began to rumble, and the gondola began to rock back and forth before finally departing.

Doctor Okitsu glanced at Takeo, "The elusive Takeo Masaki bears his face once more. We are honored you would help us in our dire situation given your busy schedule… "

Takeo replied bluntly, avoiding eye contact with the Doctor, "Actually, I was meditating. As I have been barred from all research areas, there is little else to occupy my time."

"With all due respect… there is little use for a warrior such as yourself in a place of science. Perhaps the Emperor was mistaken in sending you here."

Takeo locked eyes with Okitsu, "It was no mistake, I can assure you, Doctor."

Okitsu smirked, "You may be right. You will certainly be of great use to us today… "

The gondola came to an abrupt halt, nearly knocking the men inside off their feet. The assistant opened the door to reveal the concrete inner walls of the laboratories.

Takeo allowed the rest of the men to step out first, following as they passed through a corridor into an open foyer. Near a metal door stood another Group 935 scientist and an armed soldier.

Russo approached them, "Has the subject made any attempt to escape?"

The soldier replied, "Nein, he has just been muttering und crying in the corner. I don't understand why we cannot break down the door and get on with it."

Okitsu shook his head, "Now, now, we should not be too hasty. Replacing these electronic doors is quite costly, certainly more than the subject is worth. You could learn a thing or two about patience from our friend Takeo."

Takeo approached the door, peering in through the glass view port. Lab tools were scattered all over the ground, and an operating table had a thick pool of blood dripping off the side. He could hear someone mutter to the side of the door in Cantonese, but was barely able to make out the words.

Takeo asked Okitsu, "What is his name?"

Okitsu shrugged, "We would not know such things."

Takeo placed his head near the view port, uttering in Cantonese, "Can you hear me? I am not here to harm you."

The subject's voice raised, "Leave me in peace! I'll kill you if you enter this room, I swear!"

Takeo whispered to the men surrounding him, "I believe he is armed."

The German soldier standing by asked mockingly, "So, what are you going to do about it?"

Takeo spoke to the subject again, "I mean you no harm. I am not a scientist, my duty is to help these men return to their work, nothing more."

"You… you are lying! You will tear me apart! I cannot die here… I need to find my wife… she is here somewhere… "

"If you approach the window to let me look at you, I can help you find her."

"That's not true! You will shoot me through the glass!"

Russo asked, "What is he saying?"

Takeo replied, "He believes he will be shot if he stands within view of the window."

The soldier behind Takeo muttered under his breath, "Not a bad idea… "

Takeo turned to him, pointing a finger in his face, "We will do no such thing. Lower your weapons and step away from the door. Now!"

The soldier stood his ground, looking to Doctor Okitsu for approval. Okitsu nodded, and the three soldiers present lowered their weapons, stepping aside. Russo motioned to the German scientist present when they arrived to follow him, telling Doctor Okitsu, "We have some other business to attend to, and this may take longer than necessary."

Okitsu said, "That's alright. I will enjoy the show on your behalf."

Irritated by Okitsu, Takeo spoke once more to the subject, "I have told the guards to lower their weapons and to step away. I am the only one standing before the door, and I will not harm you."

"I do not believe you!"

"Believe this: I value your life and my own honor over their research. I promise you, on behalf of my own life… on the life of my family… you are safe."

Takeo waited in silence for a reply, uncertain if Doctor Okitsu would willingly comply with his demands should the subject come forward.

From the corner of the port, Takeo could see a man coming into view. He slowly shambled across the floor, one of his legs dragging and his face expressing a great deal of pain through the tears. He wore a simple white shirt and tan pants each soaked in blood that emanated from a large gash in the side of his chest. The wound exposed his organs which reflected a bright ruby red under the light on the ceiling. The man appeared to be aged in his 40's, but his head was completely bald and there were scars all along his arms.

Furious, Takeo stepped away from the window, approaching Okitsu, "What have you done to this man? What has he done to be forced to endure such suffering?"

"If you must know, we were testing different concentrations of Element 115 to be used as a healing agent for battle wounds. Since he has been walking around and losing so much blood, the test is no longer viable. I can assure you the experiment was sanctioned as it is."

Takeo shook his head, "You have taken this too far. You must mend his wound and send him to a prison on the mainland with his wife."

Okitsu chuckled, "His wife? So many have passed through here, that could be anyone."

"You treat this subject lightly. I, however, do not. This is unacceptable, and I have informed the Emperor as such. You will cease your work here until orders return from the mainland, and you will pray that He does not punish you in the manner I would find most fitting. This subject will leave this facility unharmed, Doctor, if I am to believe you are an honorable man."

Okitsu stood silent for a moment, his assistant looking perplexedly between him and Takeo. Okitsu raised his arms, smiling. "Fine. You win, Samurai."

Takeo replied before returning to the door, "I see no victory here. Only needless suffering and dishonor."

Through the door he spoke to the subject, "I have spoken with the Doctor. He will heal you, and you will be sent somewhere far safer. You will suffer no more."

The man shut his eyes, nodding and crying for a few moments. He shuffled towards the door, deactivating the locks and stepping backwards into the center of the room.

Takeo slowly turned the handle, opening the door and stepping forward, his hands raised.

"You see, I am unarmed."

He noticed the subject had been gripping a large surgical tool in his left hand, and he began to loosen it as Takeo calmed him down.

Takeo reached out with one hand as an offer of peace, and the subject locked eyes with him before averting his gaze behind Takeo. His eyes lit up with fury, and he charged forward, the sharp tool in his hand. In an instant, three beams of green light shot forth from behind Takeo into the subject's upper chest, piercing through and placing him on his back. Green smoke shot forth from the holes in his chest and from the impact the beams had made on the wall behind him. His eyes were filled with tears, but he was most certainly dead.

Takeo stood dumbstruck as Okitsu's assistant pushed him aside, crouching near the body and examining the wounds.

"Incredible, the rays passed right through. Just as you predicted, Doctor."

Takeo turned to see Okitsu with a handheld weapon in the shape of a pistol and similar in design to a Group 935 weapon known as the "Ray Gun," designed here at the Rising Sun Facility.

Takeo shoved the assistant aside, sitting near the body and lifting the subject's head to gaze into the abyss within his eyes. Takeo had promised on his own life, his own honor, and the lives of his family that he would be safe. He had failed to keep this promise.

Takeo placed his hand over the man's face, closing his eyes, before resting his head onto the wood floor. He shut his own eyes, returning to his place of meditation under the cherry blossom tree. Its leaves were all gone, and the children were nowhere in sight.

"Otōsan, yurushite…"

He could hear the door to the lab being closed, and the whispers of evil men. Takeo glanced back, seeing the assistant, a syringe in his hand, as well as two German soldiers, unarmed. They were approaching him, slowly.

Thinking swiftly, Takeo noticed a table to his right. In a single motion, he gripped the underside of the table and flung it into one of the soldiers, knocking him to the ground, removing his helmet. The assistant swung his arm with a syringe, trying to reach Takeo's neck, but Takeo simply shoved it aside with one hand, snapping the arm in half by pulling it over his shoulder. The assistant crumpled, crying out in pain and dropping the syringe to the ground.

The second helmeted soldier quickly tried to restrain Takeo, wrapping his arms around his neck. Takeo replied with an elbow into his gut and a shove into the concrete wall. The first helmetless soldier has returned to his feet, grappling with him at near equal strength. The helmeted soldier tried to restrain Takeo in the same manner as before, now that his arms were occupied in front of him. Takeo kicked one in the chest, sending him spine-first into a wooden chair as he yelped in pain, before lowering down and tossing the one to his rear over his shoulder onto the ground.

The soldier he kicked caught his breath, charging head first into Takeo before he could react, pinning him to the wall. Takeo punched him in the jaw, causing him to reel back, before he took a swing back at Takeo. One swing hit Takeo in the cheek, but he responded quickly with three consecutive punches to the man's jaw.

Takeo backed away towards a table near the wall, and as the soldier attempted to swing, Takeo dodged and swiveled around him, placing his arms on his back, and while he was winded, Takeo slammed his head into the corner of the table, knocking him completely out, a tooth falling to the floor as blood splotched the table.

The remaining soldier swung a wooden chair into Takeo, smashing it into pieces and disorienting him. Takeo anticipated an attempt to grab him, charging head first into the soldier's chest to knock him back. The soldier tried once more to grab him, but Takeo reversed his attempt, wrapping his own arm around his neck and pulling him to the ground. The soldier gasped for breath, flailing his arms and legs trying to harm Takeo, but he maintained his grip, thwarting attempts to escape by rolling side to side on the floor. The soldier's strength dissipated, and his limbs fell to the wayside. Takeo finally released him, rising to his feet once more, bloodied and bruised.

It was then he noticed Okitsu standing near the door, the experimental Ray Gun in his hand pointed at Takeo.

Takeo caught his breath, uttering to the cruel Doctor, "You… are a traitor… The Emperor will have your head for executing one of His personal envoys."

Okitsu shook his head, "On the contrary, I do not plan on killing you with this Ray Gun, no. Your insides would be cooked and your body useless to Division 9. However, if you will not cooperate, I will not hesitate to pull the trigger."

Takeo began to pace closer, circling the Doctor, "So this is why you have taken away my blade, my family heirloom. You needed me disarmed, helpless in the sights of your unnatural weapons. This was your plan, yes?"

Okitsu smiled, "How perceptive for someone so blind to his fate."

"What do you mean?"

"You were not sent here to watch over our research, but to become a part of it. As a test subject."

"On whose authority?"

"The orders came from the Emperor himself."

Takeo stopped in his tracks, furious, "Watch your tongue! The Emperor would never betray His most loyal servant! My family has served the Empire for generations!"

"He chose you because you are so loyal, so zealous. Only a fool like you would fall into this trap. You and your family are not as valuable to the Empire as you have been led to think. You and your father have caused enough trouble."

"Do not speak of Saburō, traitor!"

"Your family is a relic of the past, and the Masaki lineage will die with you. Give up your body, and you will be of some actual use to the Empire."

Takeo did not believe Okitsu's words, as they could never be true. He inspected the weapon in his hands, pointed directly at him less than a meter away.

Takeo shut his eyes, breathing in and then out, saying to Okitsu while pointing to the weapon in his hand, "Would you not fight me as an equal? With honor?"

Okitsu laughed, shaking his head, "Your Bushido code means nothing to me, Takeo. I hold the weapon, and I hold the power here."

Takeo sighed, "So be it."

The Samurai ducked to the side, launching his foot into the air directly into Okitsu's wrist. In a panic, the Doctor fired off a burst of plasma energy which impacted the nearby wall before the weapon was knocked from his hands and onto the floor. Okitsu immediately backed away, slamming his fist into the metal door to the lab, calling out, "Get in here now! He's managed to- ach!"

Takeo had retrieved a Doctor's knife from a nearby table, and now held it in one hand against Okitsu's face as the other arm was wrapped around his neck. The third German soldier stationed outside the door slammed it open, directing his MP-40 in their direction.

Okitsu continued to struggle, stopping as Takeo began to pierce the skin of Okitsu's neck with the knife. He stopped as Takeo made his demands to the German soldier, "You are to escort me to a vehicle so that I may leave this facility with Doctor Okitsu as a prisoner! The Emperor will hear of his treachery!"

Okitsu muttered as Takeo held his throat tightly, "He would never see you. You would be executed before you even reach the palace, just like Saburō!"

Takeo's adrenaline seemed to halt, his mind preoccupied with Okitsu's claim. "You are lying. What you say is impossible."

Okitsu continued raspily, "He ordered his death on the palace steps, and he sent men to execute your mother in your home. Your father questioned his judgement and they paid the price… But you... he has tried to kill you many times before… Every one of your missions has been designed to kill you, and yet you still live! If he could not kill you in battle, he simply wanted you to disappear! You are a remnant of the old ways, Takeo, and a threat to his vision of Japan..."

Memories flooded Takeo's mind; Missions of great peril that resulted in the death of many men on either side of the war. Only through his father's training had he ever stood a chance at survival. Takeo's life had been built upon service to the Emperor, the one he saw as righteous, the one he saw as honorable, and the one who had sent him to die… The Masaki men were respected throughout Japan for centuries as peacekeepers, but the Emperor, who was divine and perfect, looked down on them with petty jealousy.

This is the end of the Samurai. Takeo is the last of his kind.

Takeo began to loosen his grip, his mind drifting and his blood ran cold. His vision began to cloud, his path, built upon a lie, now crumbling before him.

He felt a sharp prick at his ankles, and only after a moment of clarity did he realize what had happened. To his rear on the ground was Doctor Okitsu's assistant, a syringe in the hand of his functioning arm, its contents now coursing through Takeo's veins.

"No… "

Takeo began to feel light-headed, and his grip on Doctor Okitsu loosened, causing the Doctor to pull himself free. Takeo covered his eyes, the light from above casting a great deal of irritation in his vision. He uncovered them to see the German soldier stepping forward and placing a boot to his chest, knocking Takeo to the ground.

He felt a sharp pain from the impact in the back of his head, however, he could not attend to it as his arms were too weak to be lifted. His vision swirled and the colors of the room seemed to change. The Doctor's assistant stood up, peering down at Takeo on the ground, before delivering a swift kick to his lower back, muttering, "Bakayarou!"

The German soldier was circling the room, examining the unconscious men, "The son of a bitch could have killed them… What do we do with him now?"

As the world began to blur, Okitsu leaned down to get a closer look at Takeo, before wiping away some of the blood at his own neck, "He's too dangerous to be kept here any longer… And frankly he deserves something far worse than what I had in mind."

Okitsu pondered for a moment, before a grin arrived at his face, "We will send him to Der Riese as a 'gift'... Perhaps they can find a use for him… "

Message For Cpt. Takeo Masaki

This letter arrived today for the Samurai. Its contents may raise suspicions of our intentions, however, it would perhaps be dishonorable to deny him his father's final words. I shall leave the final decision as to whether or not he should receive the message up to Dr. Okitsu.

"Takeo,

I am humbled by your kind words, and I wish to assure you of my safety for the time being. I apologize for my actions; While I believe they were honorable, they may yet have endangered our family. Though you still believe in the Emperor's wisdom, I ask that you search your heart for guidance in this matter. I have witnessed atrocities in Nanjing and Panjiayu I never thought imaginable under our own flag. I am forbidden from sharing the details under threat of imprisonment, however, I believe a far darker fate will befall me should I speak publicly. The Emperor may not be who we thought He was.

If the Emperor himself sent you to undertake this mission, He may still trust you. I, however, am not looked upon with such grace. He has sent men to watch over me; They circle our home like vultures, watching every move I make. I do not regret speaking to the Emperor personally about the cruelties I witnessed, and I urge you to do the same with the men you were sent to investigate, this Division 9. Be wary of their movements; They are not to be trusted. I have seen how they treat captured prisoners of war.

Our ancestors will watch over myself and your mother, just as they will watch over you in your mission. I have passed my blade on to you because I believe you have proven yourself as a warrior, and as the next son in the Masaki bloodline, you will keep the dying Samurai spirit alive. You will be the greatest of our lineage.

Your Father,

Saburō Masaki."

1 Year Later...

Chapter 29: Burn 'Em Out

Paris, France

Agent Peter McCain

August 22nd, 1944

Over a year after his departure from the United States, Peter had spent his time in France training resistance fighters to sabotage Nazi supply lines into the country. The Allies had secured entry into mainland Europe, and they were quickly approaching the French capital. The fighting would soon be over here, and Peter would be thrust into an entirely different side of the war, behind enemy lines.

Harvey Yena successfully infiltrated Group 935 last May, initiating the first phase of Operation Firebrand. Though communication with Yena was sporadic and limited, he had updated the OSS on Doctor Richtofen's status. Just a little over a week after Yena had joined Group 935, he attended a rally with Doctor Richtofen as a speaker. His ambitions were alarming, but even more troubling was an attempt on Richtofen's life during the rally by an unknown assailant. No one in Group 935 was sure who tried to eliminate the Doctor, but it was certainly not the OSS. Yena continued to observe and report on Richtofen, discovering a great deal of paranoia in him. The OSS ordered that Yena attempt to form a closer bond with Richtofen, and perhaps garner his support to turn on the rest of Group 935. With any luck, he will cooperate.

The streets of Paris were eerily quiet, a far cry from Peter's own home town. After the bombings and firefights in the street the previous days, the Germans were now preparing for the upcoming Allied advance. Those not involved in the conflict stayed out of sight, the only life populating the open streets being stray cats and curious turtle-doves. Nearly every business on every street had broken windows, smashed doors, or bullet-holes in their walls, the occupants nowhere to be seen. It hardly looked like an ongoing warzone; But, looks can be deceiving.

Peter came to a stop under a sign reading "Cafe Le Petit,"turning to face the entrance, a door with faded paint and a single hole punctured in the center. Plastered on the nearby alleyway walls were posters decrying the German invaders, rallying readers to the cause of the French Resistance.

Peter dusted off his civilian button-down shirt, preparing himself to enter the bistro. He was unarmed, but he had a compact handgun strapped to his ankle underneath the leggings of his pants. Even so, he had been trained to be vigilant and ready for any potential conflict.

He pushed open the door, painting a tiny section of the dimly-lit room with sunlight. Seated at the bar at the other side of the room was an older gentleman in a beret and blue suit who turned around to see Peter, before returning to his drink. Peter shut the door, passing several men playing cards at a nearby table who had stopped to gawk at him. He took a seat to the right of the older man drinking from a bottle. Peter waved the bartender away as he approached, turning his gaze to the older man's face, marked by a thick, brown mustache above his lips. He matched the description of the man he was looking for.

Peter leaned in, whispering, "Union."

The man turned to face Peter with a look of confusion. Peter repeated again under his breath, "Union." He did not change his expression.

Out of the corner of his vision, Peter could see a similarly aged man with a rugged face, beret, and thick brown mustache, but with an expression of befuddlement as he leaned forwards into Peter's view.

Realizing his mistake, Peter smiled, nodding to the confused man as he muttered, "Je suis désolé… "

Peter promptly rose to his feet, finding a seat near the man he actually intended to meet, the British Captain Thackwaite.

Feeling a hint of humiliation, Peter did not look the Captain in the eyes, muttering, "Union…"

The Captain shook his head, wrapping his arm around Peter as he guided him to the door, casually. As soon as they passed out of the door and into the streets, Thackwaite chastised the young Agent, "You nearly ruined this whole operation before it had even started."

Peter replied, "To be fair, I hadn't seen any pictures of you, just a description. You two looked pretty-"

"Word of advice, lad, act with a little more discretion next time, aye? Get to know yer surroundings before you do anything stupid."

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now, did ya run into any Jerries on the way here?"

"None. This place is like a ghost town."

"On this side of the city. But I can assure you, they're out there."

Thackwaite led the way down the street, passing a few blocks before stopping near an alleyway. He inspected his surroundings to be sure they were not being watched before advancing into the alley. Near the end, he knocked on a grey door twice, waiting a moment, before knocking four more times in quick succession. The door came open, and Thackwaite nodded to Peter to enter and shut the door behind him.

The room appeared to be some kind of warehouse, the walls covered with stacks of wooden boxes and tools, with only a single window tinted with a layer of dust allowing any light into the room. Resting nearby a lone crate were two members of the French Resistance that Peter had trained personally in prior months. Looking over a map of the city was the 25-year old artist turned soldier Marque Foucault, and to his right was Silvie Segouin, a 19-year old student eager to push the Germans out of her city of birth.

As Peter approached, Silvie rolled her eyes and muttered, "Merde..."

Peter chuckled, "What, aren't you happy to see me?"

Silvie replied calmly, "I would not say 'happy', but I am relieved to see a familiar face."

Marque Foucault nodded, "As am I, sir."

"Please, you guys can just call me Peter. I think you've earned it."

Captain Thackwaite stepped between the trio, pointing to the map, "If we're done exchanging pleasantries, yer on a tight schedule, Agent McCain. Foucault, have you two sorted yer route to the rendezvous point?"

Foucault replied with haste, "Oui, Captain. Sylvie and I have passed through the catacombs many times over the past year. We know the fastest, and most importantly, safest route to the meeting location. There, Peter will meet with the informant and return safely with the acquired information."

Thackwaite approved, "Outstanding. I shan't need to remind our Agent here of the importance of this mission. But for the rest of ya: failure is not an option."

Sylvie interjected, "What is it that Peter is securing, exactly? How will it help in liberating Paris?"

"This mission is bigger 'an Paris, madam. It could keep this war from dragging on for years to come. The contents of what Agent McCain is recovering are not a concern of yours."

Sylvie seemed dissatisfied with the answer, but said nothing as she twirled a strand of her curly hair with her fingers.

Peter assured the Captain, "We'll get it done, Captain. I think we're all ready."

Thackwaite nodded, "I will leave you to it then. Remember, if you get lost or caught, there is nae much we can do. Keep yer wits about you, and use discretion."

Peter gave a nod back, saying nothing as he was reminded of their first encounter.

Thackwaite chuckled, opening the door leading into the alley, saying "Good luck, we're counting on you," as he left.

Marque and Sylvie looked to Peter expectantly, awaiting his orders.

Peter said aloud, "Let's gear up and get moving, then. The informant won't stick around for long."

The two fighters nodded, Marque removing and folding up the map on the crate as Sylvie removed the top. She sorted through its contents, passing a German Walther pistol to Marque before removing an MP-40 from the box. Peter prepared to accept the submachine gun as Sylvie held it in her arms, ensuring the weapon was loaded.

Peter inquired, "Are you sure you can handle that, Sylvie?"

Sylvie met eyes with Peter, rolling hers as she set the weapon aside, "I am more than sure, Peter. For you… I have a Gewehr 43. I am sure you can handle this one, no?"

She passed the semi-automatic rifle to Peter as she placed several cartridges of its ammunition into her pockets. Peter graciously accepted the weapon, noting, "Yeah, I think I can."

Sylvie smiled, "Then we understand each other."

Peter approached the door, peering down the alley at either side, before motioning his allies to follow, "We're moving out."

The air was still and cold within the stone tunnels beneath Paris. With no natural light to speak of, Sylvie held a flashlight provided by the OSS, guiding the trio down a set of cracked stone steps deeper into the catacombs. Along the grey walls were works of art painted by citizens who had explored the tunnels. Marque Foucault took time to admire the works, running his hand along a depiction of Saint Genevieve.

"Such beautiful work… When the Germans are gone, I will finally have time to appreciate it."

Sylvie turned back to Marque, "You will not if Hitler burns the city."

"Surely they would have done so already if that was their plan?"

"They need time to steal every last valuable from us first… but we will remove their occupation before they can raze the city, right, Peter?"

Peter replied from the rear of the group, "Actually, Marque may be right. From what I have heard, Choltitz has been defying Hitler's direct orders by leaving your monuments standing this long. He may be planning to surrender."

Sylvie said, "Perhaps he will. But they do not deserve a peaceful surrender after what they have done to our people."

Peter sighed, "Come on, Sylvie, revenge won't do anything but cause more pain. You shouldn't be saying things like that… you're so young."

Sylvie stopped, pointing the flashlight in Peter's eyes, "Peter, I am not a child. You cannot speak to me like I am one. I have lived for years in this occupation, and I will die fighting for our freedom. Does that sound like the resolve of a child?"

Marque placed his hands out, trying to calm her, "We need to stay quiet, our voice can carry quite a distance down here."

Sylvie shook her head, facing forwards again, "Sorry, Marque."

Peter kept quiet, feeling guilty for provoking Sylvie under such stressful conditions. He peered ahead, past the light, as the group approached a corner.

As they came around, the trio entered a large, hexagonal room. Water dripped down through cracks in the ceiling, pooling at the floor beneath them. Around the edges of the entire cavern were rows upon rows of human skulls, their color faded and form crushed under the weight of the ceiling above. Assorted bones separated the skulls, forming a large portion of the walls in the tunnel. Around them were two other possible directions to take, both with a similar assortment of ancient human remains lining the interior.

Sylvie turned the light to Marque's map as Peter crouched down to look over it as well. Sylvie ran her finger along a curved path towards a location marked with an X, where the informant would be meeting with him. "We will head left, followed by another left, continuing until we reach another chamber like this one."

Peter scanned the map, noticing a shorter path straight ahead to the X. "Why not head straight there? Wouldn't we get there faster?"

Sylvie shook her head, "The path straight this way is very dangerous. The walls there could cave in at the slightest provocation. It also passes right under a German fortification in the middle of the city, and there could be patrols searching the tunnels."

Marque nodded, "She's right, taking the long way will be safer. Will you have time to reach the informant?"

Peter pulled back his sleeve to view his watch, noting the time of 12:25 PM. "We'll have time. We just need to keep at the pace we're going."

"We're approaching the intersection…" Marque whispered from the center of the pack.

Sylvie dimmed the flashlight, allowing Peter to pass in front of her. Peter crouch-walked through the dark tunnel slowly, keeping balanced with his hand along the wall. Just a few feet ahead was the chamber where the informant should be waiting. He waited a moment, listening for any sign of them. There was only the sound of occasional dripping water from the cracked ceiling.

Placing his hands around his lips to throw his voice, he called out into the chamber, "Union… "

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. A voice then cut back through the darkness, "... Jack."

Peter stepped backwards into Sylvie's view, motioning her to intensify the light and step into the chamber. As the trio stepped inside and scanned the room with light, a sitting young man with black hair came into view, resting against a closed tomb and holding a satchel in his arms. He wore a worker's uniform with a Group 935 insignia stitched on his breast pocket. He appeared both relieved and frightened as he rose to his feet to shake Peter's hand.

"You must be Pablo." Peter took the informant's dry hand, before motioning Sylvie and Marque to watch the surrounding exits during the exchange.

With a Mexican accent, Pablo responded, "It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Agent McCain. I wasn't sure you'd find your way through these catacombs."

Peter nodded, "I had some help." He pointed to the satchel, "Is that the information I came for?"

Pablo opened the satchel, removing several laminated documents, "Indeed it is. There are copies of staff directories, shipping manifests, and pictures from inside several Group 935 and Division 9 facilities. This was all I could manage to acquire… I fear they are catching on to what I am doing."

"Stay strong. This war can't go on for much longer."

"We can only hope… " Pablo pointed to the documents as he passed them to Peter, "One last thing, I heard it after I had gathered this intelligence: Doctor Maxis is set to make a presentation on the… undead army to high-ranking Nazi brass, perhaps even Hitler himself. I could not gather a date nor a location, but this proves that the project has continued to make progress. The direction of this war lies within the outcome of this presentation… "

"I will let the OSS know as soon as I'm out of here. Those Group 935 bastards are gonna destroy the world before they take it over… "

"Not if we have anything to say about it, amigo."

Peter gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder, "Good luck out there, Pablo."

Pablo closed the satchel, turning on his own flashlight, "Best of luck to you on your mission, Peter. I hope to see you again one day."

"Likewise."

Peter placed the documents in a manila folder, before moving the folder back into his inner shirt pocket as Pablo trekked into the long, dark abyss ahead.

Marque turned back from his position near the way they had come in, "Are we ready to leave, Peter?"

"I've got everything. Sylvie, you can take point again. I'll follow behind, and Marque, you follow from the rear."

Peter handed Sylvie the flashlight as she placed the MP-40's strap around herself. They embarked back the long route they had come from.

Peter had begun to think of home to take his mind away from the staring skulls adorning the walls. He thought of Mary, whom he had not seen face-to-face in over a year, only able to send her letters in his freetime. The possibility that he could lose his life and leave her fatherless chilled Peter's spine. Who would teach her responsibility? How would she learn how to be tough? How could she grow up without him?

Peter thought of Sylvie, a young, innocent girl thrust into a war created by adults for reasons she does not understand. Yet, she chooses to fight the good fight to protect herself and her people. She reminded Peter of… Mary. Both are naturally strong, always trying to protect others from bullies. They're both smart, clever girls that are mature for their age. Maybe Mary will be alright, no matter what happens to Peter.

He whispered, trying to grab Sylvie's attention, "Sylvie… I'm sorry for treating you like a child… Here and during your training."

"Sorry? That's a first from you."

"Yeah, well… I know it hurts to be talked down to. You just remind me so much of my daughter."

"How old is she?"

"It's not the age… She's real smart, like you. But she keeps getting in trouble at her school because she tries to fight bullies picking on her friends. I keep telling her she shouldn't be doing that or she's going to get hurt, but she knows it's the right thing to do."

Marque spoke up, "Is this a good time for this, Peter?"

Peter looked back, "What, have you got somewhere to be?"

Marque shrugged.

Sylvie sighed, "Well, I am not your daughter."

Peter continued, "That's right, and I accept the fact you're old enough and capable enough to protect yourself."

The group stayed silent, continuing their pace through the tunnels under Sylvie's direction. Finally, they reached the first intersection they had arrived at inside the catacombs, meaning the exit was through a straight passage that would take around twenty-five minutes to travel. As Sylvie prepared to take a step in this direction, she halted the trio, whispering, "Listen…"

From the passage they initially arrived through, the sound of boots scraping against stone and Germans speaking could be heard. Listening intently, Peter could make out some of the words, "General Choltitz ... französischer Hund ... ihnen ausbrennen … "

Peter motioned for the trio to turn back. They quietly paced until the voices could no longer be heard. Peter's heart racing, he whispered to the trio, "They said something about Choltitz… I, I think they said they were going to burn something."

Marque shook his head as Sylvie proclaimed, "I knew this…"

Peter asked Marque, "Is there an alternative way out of here?"

Marque looked over the map, "Not one that does not lead us behind enemy lines."

"Then we need to draw those soldiers out of there… That's the only feasible way out."

Marque asked, "How many do you think there are?"

"Too many for the three of us to handle with the weapons we've got. We just need them out of the way so we can run for it."

Sylvie said demandingly, "We can't let them leave the tunnels! They said they would burn the city."

Peter replied, "They'll run into Resistance forces before they get too far."

"And if they do not?"

"I want to save the city as much as you do, Sylvie, but we are not equipped to deal with a direct fight against who-knows-how-many Germans."

Sylvie pointed to Peter's shirt where the documents were being safely kept, "For all we know, they could be on their way to capture Captain Thackwaite. If this exchange of yours is bigger than this war, then we must prevent the Germans from ever leaving the catacombs. We must act."

Peter mulled over the thought for a moment, motioning Marque to hand over the map of the tunnels. He motioned his finger over the straight line to the exit where the Germans were heading, passing into the intersection the three of them were kneeling just before. They had taken the long route to reach Pablo because the shorter, direct route was considered dangerous.

Peter looked between the two Resistance fighters, asking, "When you say dangerous… How dangerous is this section of the catacombs?"

Marque replied, "Parts of the ceiling are known to crumple and fall… scaffolding put in place long ago to hold it up is beginning to fall apart."

Sylvie added, "We never go through there because even slightly grazing the old scaffolding could cause a collapse. It's very easy to make that mistake in the darkness."

Peter asked, sarcastically, "Easy enough for, oh, maybe a dozen Germans?"

Sylvie said, "They were lucky to have passed through alive the first time."

Marque asked Peter, "What if we could force a collapse as they passed through?"

Peter thought it over, "That could work, but we don't have any trip-wire or explosives."

Sylvie glanced back into the passage ahead, before reaching into her pocket, and removing a German hand grenade.

Peter flinched back, "When were you going to tell me you had that, Sylvie?!"

Sylvie smiled, "When you realized I could handle using one."

Peter shook his head, "So you can toss one of those pretty far? You're not going to want to be in the passage when it goes off."

Sylvie frowned, "Of course I can! You're the one who showed me how to do it!"

Peter scoffed, "Yeah, but, neither of us are exactly Babe Ruth, so… "

"I can handle it."

Peter looked over the map again, reviewing the plan in his mind. "Alright, I believe you."

Marque inquired, "So, who will draw their attention?"

Peter responded immediately, "I will. You two will head the long way back in the direction of the meeting spot and wait at the end of this fucked-up tunnel of yours. How long should that take?"

Marque pondered for a moment, "Uh… around five minutes."

Peter continued, "Alright, then I'll wait here for five minutes, then charge towards them making a whole bunch of noise. I'll draw them into that tunnel, and when I find you, start firing your weapons back where I came from to keep them inside the passage. Then, toss the grenade, and we'll run like Hell the long way back."

Marque and Sylvie looked at each other before nodding in compliance with Peter's plan.

"Good. One last thing… just in case something goes wrong in there…"Peter removed the mission documents from his shirt, handing them to Sylvie, "Hold on to those, and get them to the OSS any way you can. Oh, and uh, don't read them."

Sylvie handed Peter the flashlight, as he handed her a lighter from his shirt pocket to light their path ahead, "I'll want that back, by the way."

As Peter prepared to depart, he offered his Gewehr to Marque, before removing the small sidearm he kept at his ankle, and loading the weapon. "I actually don't think I'll be able to handle the rifle… I'll need to be quick."

Sylvie smiled, igniting the lighter and placing the documents safely on her person.

Peter waved to them as he turned away, "Vive le Résistance."

Marque corrected him, "It's actually Vive la Résistance."

Peter nodded and winked, "Gratzi!" He paced away around the corridor and into the open chamber, out of the light of the French fighters.

Marque leaned over to Sylvie, asking, "Does he know that is-"

Sylvie interrupted, "He knows."

Briskly, without any discretion, Peter jogged through the tunnel with his handgun in one hand and the flashlight in the other. The sound of his boots meeting the stone floor again and again echoed between the art-covered walls. He began to hear the Germans chattering again.

Peter maintained his pace, his light bathing the interior of the tunnel as he advanced forward. He could now see the Germans' own lights up ahead, bobbing up and down as they marched towards the exit. As he prepared himself to turn around as soon as he was spotted, he came to a sudden halt as his light illuminated a German soldier dressed in full army uniform with a massive tank strapped to his back, in his hands a flamethrower. The soldier seemed just as shocked as Peter, unsure what to do as he called out to his rear, "Hier ist jemand!"

Peter quickly turned tail and ran with all his energy back towards the chamber. With the five minutes of waiting for the Germans to advance, there was quite a distance left for Peter to run back, but he was motivated out of fear of being shot or burned alive. The German troops thankfully were slow to regroup and hindered by their heavy equipment, but that did not assure Peter of his total safety.

He ran for several minutes, finally reaching the chamber and taking a moment to breathe. He paused to allow the Germans to catch up and notice where he was headed: Into the unstable tunnel.

The lights of the Germans came into view, prompting Peter to flash his light back at them and charge head-first into the unknown. He slowed his pace, now crouched inside the tiny, cramped tunnel, taking note of the wooden scaffolds made of rotting wood barely holding together. Making a decent pace, he began to speed up slightly. The flashlight was flung from his hand as he tripped on a section of uneven ground, and his chest impacted a rock resting in the path, knocking the wind from his lungs.

"Bewegen Sie sich eins nach dem anderen!"

Peter lifted himself up, retrieving the flashlight and catching a glimpse of a small, flickering red light in the distance. Finally, he had reached the chamber at the end of the tunnel, where Sylvie and Marque were waiting safely.

Marque called out, "Peter!"

Peter halted, falling to his knees and nearly vomiting from the long run. He looked back into the tunnel where the German lights were bobbing up and down, searching desperately for him. He could see at least six through the darkness.

Sylvie raised her MP-40, and Marque his Gewehr, pointing them into the tunnel ahead as they braced against opposite walls.

Peter waited for the opportune moment, before signaling for them to fire into the shaft. Shots rained out in an arc from Sylvie's weapon as a German cried out in pain. They began to yell indiscriminately in the dark, before one began to fire back with single shots. They whizzed by, pinging off skulls embedded in the walls within the chamber.

As Sylvie's ammunition ran dry, Marque began to fire his rifle into the hallway, further agitating the Germans inside. Peter turned to Sylvie with the light, nodding his head to signal her to initiate the final phase of the plan.

She lowered her weapon, taking the grenade in her hand and preparing to pull the pin. The room suddenly lit up in an orange flame as the flamethrower's spray shot forth from the German squad's position, the flames reaching just a few feet away from Peter, and he could feel the intense heat as it scorched the rock floor ahead.

"Throw it now, Sylvie!"

Sylvie underhandedly tossed the grenade past the burst of flame, rolling out of sight behind the flamethrower.

Peter grabbed Marque by the collar, guiding him and Sylvie down the corridor to their side where they dove for cover. The tight, cramped catacombs amplified the sound of the explosion, dulling Peter's sense of hearing for an entire minute. Looking back, flames shot out from the tunnel, lighting up the entire area. Sylvie grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him to his feet, and guiding the group through the tunnel as Peter recovered from the shock. With any luck, the Germans were all killed in the explosion or trapped beneath rubble.

Peter took a moment to lie down on the concrete sidewalk of the Parisian streets, appreciating the natural sunlight and clean air he had taken for granted.

"You'll be needing these." Sylvie placed the lighter in Peter's pocket, and laid the mission intel flat on his stomach.

Peter inhaled the open air, before releasing it and sitting straight up, "Yeah, I suppose I will."

Marque was smiling as he offered his hand to Peter, "I didn't hear anyone following us… I think we were successful."

Peter grunted as he regained his balance, now able to stand tall, "Yep. Now, let's get out of these streets." He brandished his pistol, directing the others to follow closely.

The trio paced quickly, walking beside several empty shops on the street before arriving at the corner. Peter peered around, surprised by the sight of an American tank and truck surrounded by dozens of US soldiers and French Resistance. In the middle of the group was Captain Thackwaite, puffing on a cigar.

Peter looked back to his allies, "Lower your weapons and raise your hands."

Doing as told, they passed into view of the Americans, who quickly raised their weapons at the sight of intruders. As Thackwaite caught sight of them, he called out, "Jumpy Yanks, stand down! They're ours!"

Thackwaite approached them, cigar still in his teeth, "Was yer mission successful?"

"Yes, sir." Peter removed the documents Pablo acquired, handing them to the Captain.

"Well done, lad. Yer needed for a debrief, and er, yer handler wants a talk with ya on the radio."

"I'll get right on that, sir."

Peter turned to the two freedom fighters who had fought by his side, offering final, parting words, "I'm proud of the both of you for what you did today. By the look of things, the fight here is all but won."

Sylvie nodded, "Paris may soon be liberated, but the war is not over yet. We'll fight until the world is free from the Fascists."

Marque agreed, "Thank you, Peter, for everything. When there is peace, I hope we will see you again, someday."

"I hope so too, Marque." Peter looked back to Captain Thackwaite, standing near the portable radio. As he prepared to walk away, he turned once more to Sylvie and Marque, saluting, "Vive la France!"

Chapter 30: One Final Effort

Deutsches Sol Kino, Berlin, Nazi Germany

Dr. Ludvig Maxis

October 26th, 1944

Ludvig's arm grew tired as he offered another salute to the approaching General Lehmkuhl, however, it was imperative he displayed his loyalty and respect for the Nazis now populating the theater's foyer. His fatigue also stemmed from the many restless nights awakening from nightmares. He continued to dream of a man in shadow enveloping the world around him, including Samantha. Last night in particular, his nightmare was punctuated by two faceless, black spectres hovering over the foot of his bed.

General Lehmkuhl offered his own quick salute, smiling as he wrapped his arms around Maxis for a casual hug, as if he were meeting a long lost friend. He said, "No need for such a gesture on my account, old friend."

Maxis offered a short, formal smile, "It is great seeing you again, Generalleutnant."

Lehmkuhl's attitude soured, "General is fine, Doktor Maxis."

Maxis was unsure if he had offended him, "I apologize, General. Did you receive another promotion?"

Lehmkhl sighed, "Not quite, old friend. After my failure in Russia, well… It has been a poor year for men like us."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"I heard what happened with that young Fraulein of yours. I offer my condolences, as I know you were quite fond of her."

Maxis said nothing, downing some of the red wine in his glass, being sure none spilled onto his suit and tie.

Lehmkuhl continued, "I shouldn't be such ein Debbie Downer… Your work here, I am sure, will take all of our breath away, ja?"

Maxis looked towards the door as more suited Reichstag officials filed in, offering their papers to the door attendants and grabbing glasses of wine from a waiter. "I only hope so, … General. I have ensured there will be no interruptions like last time. All the necessary precautions have been taken given the prestige of tonight's guest list."

Lehmkuhl sipped his own glass of wine, "I trust that tonight will be a turning point for this damned war. Should the Führer be pleased, your experiments shall continue to support our cause as they have in the past. I have full faith in you, Doktor."

Maxis offered a polite smile, "I am pleased to have your confidence. Speaking of the Führer… when should our guest of honor be arriving?"

Lehmkuhl offered his empty glass towards the waiter, gesturing to the bottle for more. "Oh, I am sure he will be a few minutes late. You should know when he is here by his entourage." He chuckled, trailing off as the waiter slowly poured his wine.

He took the finished glass, before turning towards the stairs leading to the foyer below, "I hope we can talk like this again sometime after the presentation. I should get to my seat, down below. Auf Wiedersehen, Ludvig."

Lehmkuhl's melancholic attitude made more sense to Ludvig as he watched the stout old man descend the stairs and pass under the chandelier towards the theater's seats. A year ago, he would have been sitting higher up, in the same room as the Führer. He was unforgiving of any mistake, on the battlefield or otherwise. Tonight may be the most important night in Group 935's history.

Maxis leaned against some nearby railing, alone, waiting for any high-ranking Nazi to ascend the stairs and offer a greeting. He overlooked the men and women below, prattling on about war over the soothing violin being played. They gawked at the large, circular MTD receiving pad in the center of the room, some afraid to even go near it for its otherworldly design. Near the entrance leading to their seats, men were surrounding a podium which held up a small chunk of Element 115 beneath glass. 115 had become scarce as of late, with this small chunk being sourced from the Rising Sun Facility, at the behest of Division 9 scientists still working there.

There is simply not enough of the Element to fuel every demand of the Reichstag; Supplies had been spread too thin, yet they continued pressuring Maxis into pursuing new projects. He had no doubt that many of his men must despise him for what Group 935 had become, but only hoped this notion would change after tonight.

Maxis detested the fact that his daughter was growing up without him, now solely in the hands of Doctor Richtofen. With Doctor Wagner's sudden departure, Edward was her only caretaker. Ludvig called Richtofen nearly every week; Only half the time did Richtofen pick up the phone and allow her to speak. The Illuminati had continued to warn Maxis against weapon production for some time, however, they had remained silent as of late. Perhaps all of these anxieties would come to an end, soon.

The crowd of people below began to murmur as they congregated near the front entrance of the theater. Maxis walked down a few steps of the stairs, now able to see a limousine and several German army cars parked near the front entrance. He had arrived.

In marched several Waffen-SS men brandishing weapons and clearing a path. They were followed by high-ranking Generals and Party members, heads held high without a passing glance towards anyone else in the foyer. From the rear, slouched over in a black coat with his face towards the floor, was the Führer himself. He could barely be seen over the heads of his fellow Party members now ascending the staircase towards Maxis.

Doctor Maxis offered his most patriotic salute, being ignored by seemingly everyone in the crowd. He prepared to greet the Führer as had been planned, but he was blocked by the soldiers surrounding him. Before he could say a word, the crowd had reached the top of the staircase, where they were directed into their seats by an attendant.

Maxis had already failed to make an impression. Tonight would be a disaster, he could feel it. He prepared to try and approach the Führer again, before having his attention drawn to a man on the staircase, offering his hand. His chest was adorned with endless rows of medals, yet he had been far more gracious than the other men.

Maxis saluted once again, saying in German, "Apologies, General, I did not see you there. Why don't we come to the top of the stairs? Would you like some wine, I'm sure the attendant-"

The General followed him to the top of the stairs, offering his hand once again, "I'm alright, thank you. You may call me General Steinbauer."

Maxis remembered the name, "Ah, yes. You are the one who most graciously supplied us with samples from Project Toxic Storm. We must thank you again, General Steinbauer."

Steinbauer smiled, "It was no issue. Doctor Steiner was reluctant to hand over the research, but I am pleased we were able to convince him. Germany's greatest minds must collaborate if we are to win this war, yes?"

"I agree wholeheartedly, General," Maxis continued, "I only wish there was some way for us to repay you."

Steinbauer gestured to the nearby waiter, taking a glass of wine from his tray, "Actually, Doctor Maxis, there may be a way. I understand your men in Siberia have begun research into a program to create… Super Soldiers, is it?"

Maxis was shocked, unsure how Steinbauer had become aware of the project, still in its infant stages, "The Super Soldier Program, yes… I- I must tell you, however, that there is nothing truly concrete to speak of about the project; Only concepts. Ideas. I cannot guarantee further development, with the undead army, the teleporter, weapons development-"

Steinbauer placed his hand up to stop Maxis, "Don't worry Doctor, I am not suggesting you drop everything and pursue such work. One army at a time, yes?" He chuckled, sipping his wine.

Maxis chuckled alongside him, nervously. He glanced around the room at posters on the wall, and at the waiter with his empty tray. He was unsure of what to say next, however, he realized the presentation was about to begin, as the foyer had cleared out.

"General Steinbauer, I believe the presentation is about to begin. Allow me to direct you to your seat."

Steinbauer pulled his papers from his suit, displaying the contents to Maxis, "I will actually be joining you and the Führer in the Projection Room."

Maxis nodded, pacing up a smaller set of stairs towards the Projection Room, "Ah, wonderful."

Stepping inside after verifying their papers with the attendant, Maxis and Steinbauer crossed the narrow space between the onlookers in the room and the rectangular port through which the projector emitted light onto the screen. The lights had now dimmed, leaving the projector as the only source of light.

Maxis leaned forward, trying to get a good look at the Führer, though his view was obscured by the men to his side, and the dim lighting of the room. He could, however, make out the tortured grimace on his face. He leaned over to one of his men, who searched the room for a chair sitting against the wall. The Führer sat in the chair, which he loudly scooted closer to the view-port to get a better look at the stage as he mumbled to himself. His hands were shaking and his face constantly twitched as the presentation began. For the supposed savior of Germany and commander of the Third Reich, he was a decrepit, pathetic thing.

The time had come. Maxis motioned to the Projectionist to begin playing the first reel. The entire staff at the facility had endured days of rehearsal to prepare for this night, ensuring every moment was choreographed to properly show the professionalism Group 935 should be known for.

On the screen, numbers began to count down, and members of the crowd went silent. On the stage, men in uniform began playing trumpets with a triumphant introduction to the presentation. The reel displayed images of Germany's people smiling and waving to the Führer,men in uniform goose-stepping, and finally a still image of Group 935's insignia. The music came to a close, as an audio recording began to play in the auditorium, at a volume heard throughout, while not being too loud for the most important officials in the Projection Room.

In German, Doctor Thorsen's voice over the audio recording spoke, "We are Group 935. On May 10th, 1931, Doctor Ludvig Maxis, a German-born scientist and professor at the University of Oxford at the time, was sent to investigate a meteorite that had crashed near Breslau. He discovered many incredible, otherworldly properties in the meteorite, now known as Element 115. He founded Group 935 to explore the Element's potential, and to improve the human condition."

Pictures began to cycle on the screen of the earliest days of Group 935, days when Maxis was far happier.

"In 1939, Group 935 began its first experiments with a technology known as 'Teleportation'. The Matter Transference Device, or MTD, is designed to send any living subject from one location to another instantaneously. After years of work, the MTD is now able to send groups of up to four full-sized men over a distance of approximately two kilometers to a receiving pad connected via a wire."

The recording and projection ended, as a spotlight shone down onto the bell-shaped MTD on the stage. Members of the crowd began to clap as Doctor Thorsen took to the nearby podium, speaking into the microphone, "I need one volunteer from the crowd!"

The spotlight began to shine around the room, with members of the crowd murmuring and raising their hands. The light finally settled on one man in the front row, who was invited to the stage by Doctor Thorsen. The man had actually been no volunteer, but a member of Maxis' staff in an old German uniform. There could be no risk of failure in this demonstration. A body double of the man had even been prepared backstage in case of complications.

The staff member in disguise eagerly shook hands with Thorsen, who guided him into the MTD. Thorsen said to the crowd, "Officer Winkler will now enter the MTD, and before your eyes, he will be teleported from the stage to the receiving pad in the lobby. I am sure you are all wondering what that thing was, yes?"

Some in the crowd began to laugh as Winkler stood in the center of the machine. The spotlight shone on him as the door came closed. Thorsen called out, "Initiating teleportation… now!"

The top of the machine began to spark as power was sucked from the entire facility. The chamber began to fill with smoke, obstructing any view of "Officer Winkler." After a few moments, the chamber door opened, sending smoke across the stage, which vented out of windows opened near the roof. The chamber was empty, and many in the crowd let out audible gasps. Some stood from their seats, looking for where the man may have gone.

The spotlight redirected attention towards the back entrance of the auditorium, where all of the guests had passed through. There stood Officer Winkler, who waved to everyone in the crowd as he walked back to his seat. The entire crowd began clapping as the spotlights went out.

The Projectionist was now preparing the next reel, as Maxis leaned forward to get a view of the Führer's reaction. There was nothing positive or negative in his expression. He then entered a coughing fit through the next segment, spitting something out on the ground afterwards.

"In 1942, Group 935 began development of Perk-a-Colas, elixirs which use the power of Element 115 to give drinkers super-human abilities! The creation process and effects have been refined to the point that these Colas are now ready for mass-production! With charming designs, Perk-a-Cola dispensers have been created and sent out across Group 935 and Division 9 facilities to improve efficiency in the work-place. Do not simply take our words on faith, watch them in action!"

The screen displayed a video of a man consuming liquid from a soda bottle, before showing him lifting a large weight into the air with ease. Men in lab-coats around him began to apply heavier weight to the bar, but the man was unfazed. A burly man with boxing gloves then stepped into frame, punching the subject in the chest multiple times as he held on tightly to the bar in his hands. The crowd began to murmur, as the narrator continued, "You have just witnessed the raw strength provided by Jugger-nog Soda! Side effects of Perk-a-Colas have been largely minimized, and after the war, it is expected that these miracle elixirs will find their way into industry workplaces to greatly improve the effectiveness of the German labor force."

The film displayed a clock, signifying the passage of time, as the subject on-screen was then handed a white rabbit which he gently patted on the head, "And fear not, the uncanny effects of Perk-a-Colas are only temporary!" The film came to a close with the spotlight being shone on the stage, where the curtains opened to reveal four Perk-a-Cola machines of varying heights and color schemes.

The crowd had been wooed by the display, but once again, the guest of honor showed little interest. He leaned over to ask something of one of his fellow generals, before shaking his head in displeasure.

Maxis knew this was the last chance to get his attention, a final string to be cut before Group 935 tumbled into the abyss. He leaned over to the projectionist, whispering, "Advance to the final phase… "

The projectionist did as he was told, playing what was meant to be the final showing of the night. Maxis had planned for this contingency before-hand, in case he could not wow the Führer with the first few phases of the presentation. If any demonstration could change his mind about Group 935, this would be the one.

"After first discovering 115, Group 935 studied its effects on both living and non-living subjects. It was found that the element had regenerative properties when reacting with dead tissue cells, and while this effect would continue to be studied for its medical potential, the most shocking discovery had yet to come. In 1939, a teleportation experiment accidentally spawned the first undead creation. A cadaver had been brought back into a state of living. While the subject lacked any indication of having a personality or intelligence, it displayed a great level of strength and resilience to blunt trauma. This creation was subsequently euthanized, but many more were created in a safer testing environment, where they were conditioned to follow the commands of our scientists. When we first vowed to assist the Party in advancing the goals of the German People, these undead creations were the largest topic of interest. We devoted thousands of man-hours to perfecting the conditioning process, to preparing the finest subjects, and to creating an army to protect the Fatherland! Today, we are pleased to present, for your viewing pleasure, the first undead regiment of the German army! Please, for your safety, hold your applause until after the presentation."

The crowd had gone deathly silent, haunted by the images of undead subjects being displayed on the screen. The Führer's interest had been piqued. He now leaned forward in his chair, getting a closer look at the stage below.

No one dared say a word. Many in the crowd jerked their heads around, unsure of where they were meant to be looking. It soon became clear, as the lights came on, and the percussion section of the band began to play. The drums started slow and quiet, building in intensity. Soon they were joined by the triumphant brass, the horns resounding and mighty. The marching music was undercut by the sound of several unified boots meeting hardwood.

Out from the lobby walked a backwards-facing soldier, his weapon at the ready as he marched in step with the beat of the music. He marched backwards down the aisle towards the stage, as the boot stepping grew louder and more intense. There were murmurs in the crowd below, followed by several muffled gasps. The Führer stood up from his chair, mouth agape, peering his head out of the port to view what was coming down the aisle. Maxis began to grin, the reactions as planned.

They stepped out into the light, marching in unison like a well-trained battalion of the Army. Their form was impeccable, perfectly in line with the bombastic music echoing throughout the theater, however, their arms and their heads seemed to sway unnaturally from side to side. They all wore identical uniforms, brandished with an armband made up of Group 935's insignia and that of the Nazi Party. These specially-fitted uniforms did little to deter the putrid stench wafting from their sickly bodies, which Maxis' men had been unable to reduce.

Many men below began to panic, climbing over each other to get further away from the aisle. The Untoten paid them little attention, their attention focused on their handler, the man in uniform at the front of the pack.

As they reached the stage, the four columns of Untoten fanned out to form two rows and turn towards the crowd of onlookers.

The spectators stayed mostly quiet. In the Projection Room, the Führer was stunned. He whispered very loudly to his men, the words unrecognizable, but the tone one of disbelief and some modicum of disgust. Just as it was intended.

The band closed out its performance, bowing to no applause, as was instructed. The handler then raised his arm and snapped his fingers to garner the attention of the Untoten. He stamped his right foot, raising his arm up to the sky, shouting, "Sieg Heil!"

Just as predicted, the Untoten responded with a unified salute, letting out a furious wail as they did so.

To Maxis' side, General Steinbauer shook his head in disbelief, smiling, "Magnificent, aren't they?"

The Führer turned to his men, speaking passionately with them. Surely, he would reinstate the Reichstag's funding of Group 935.

On the stage, the Untoten followed commands given by their handler with perfect rhythm. As he led them to perform another salute, however, one of the Untoten in the back row swung its arm too widely, knocking down one in the front row. It wriggled around, flailing its arms as it rose back to its boots.

The crowd had begun to murmur, and Maxis had grown tense. The handler followed procedures, however, reclaiming the fallen one's attention, ordering it to rise slowly. Tensions lowered as it rejoined the battalion. Years of research had culminated in this single interaction going as planned.

The Führer had noticed the exchange, turning his attention to Maxis. Maxis froze, terrified of what to do next. The Führer hobbled closer to Maxis, his posture still hunched-over. He outstretched his right hand, his left one stuck in his jacket. Maxis cautiously accepted the man's clammy hand, and the Führer spoke to Maxis for the first time, "Congratulations, Doctor." He said nothing further, turning his attention to his men. He then went into a coughing fit, frazzling his hair and hacking saliva onto the floor. His men assisted him in walking back to his seat. He was much more… pitiful than Maxis had imagined.

On the stage, the handler prepared to lead the Untoten back to their holding area, when one of the subjects tripped and fell to the floor, as one of the others stepped over. The handler was quick to halt the group, attempting to refocus the attention of the fallen subject. He had nearly done so, when a loud clang could be heard from behind the stage, loud enough to be heard throughout the entire theater. Through the curtains, a large piece of wooden scaffolding toppled to the ground, grabbing the attention of many of the Untoten.

The handler panicked, unable to command all of the Untoten at once. Many near the front had turned their gaze to people in the crowd.

Maxis' blood went cold. He shoved the projectionist aside, activating the PA system, shouting, "Everyone, remain calm! Allow the handler to regain control, and exit the theater in a single-file line!"

The Untoten began to swing their heads side to side, prepared to pounce. The handler backed slowly away, before going into a full-on sprint down the aisle towards the lobby. The lead Untoten was quicker, however, sending him to the ground, screaming in agony. The doors to the lobby then flung open, and German soldiers began to yell out as they fired their MP-40s into the attacker.

Men and women in the crowd screamed, trampling over each other in hordes, pushing towards the soldiers at the lobby doors. The agitated Untoten followed close behind, ripping the flesh of several members from the front row as they made their way down the aisle. The soldiers in the room had little opportunity to take out the threats, their bullets potentially hitting very important Reichstag officials.

Maxis' heart pounded, and his knees felt weak. He turned to the men in the room, who were now yelling as they were corralled out of the room by their SS escorts. The Führer had a look of fury and disdain, as he shouted in incomprehensible German, pointing to Doctor Maxis.

A hail of gunfire was heard down below along with the toppling of bodies to the floor. Maxis could not bear to look, as he stood comatose, looking towards the open door. He leaned against the wall as his legs gave out, and he slid down to the floor. This would be the end.

Ludvig Maxis stood overlooking the stage as he sipped his tea one last time. Nearly a dozen bodies remained along the aisle of the theater, the others having been gathered by the cleaning crew for disposal. Ludvig placed his tea cup onto his desk, having brought it back into the Projection Room, before sitting down in his chair.

At the door, he heard a knock. Unwilling to discuss the fallout of what had just transpired, Maxis yelled out, "Leave me be, Thorsen."

The door knob turned anyway, and into the room stepped General Steinbauer.

Maxis leapt out of his chair, approaching him and speaking in German, "I sincerely apologize, General Steinbauer! If I had know you were still here, I would have-"

Steinbauer interrupted, "Do not worry, Doctor. I am not here in any official capacity."

"Oh, well,"Maxis glanced around the room, "I should get you some tea, I'm sure I have another cup somewhere… "

Steinbauer raised his hand, "No need. Please, sit, I would like to discuss something with you, privately."

"Of course, General."

Steinbauer shut the door as Maxis took a seat. He then took a look out onto the stage, then around the room, as if searching for something.

Maxis spoke up, "Can I help you with anything, General?"

Steinbauer shook his head, "No, that's alright… You do not happen to have any recording devices in the room, do you?"

Maxis replied, "No, this room is usually my office, not a laboratory."

Steinbauer pulled up the chair the Führer once sat in, placing himself across from Maxis. "I have bad news… but good news as well."

Maxis nodded his head, prepared for what Steinbauer had to say.

He continued, "The Reichstag will no longer be funding Group 935's work. However, I… have something of a proposal for you, Doctor. May we speak in English, please? I dearly need the practice."

Maxis nodded, "Yes, absolutely. What is this proposal?"

Steinbauer sighed, "Despite tonight's unfortunate happenings, I still believe in your work. I believe in science as a tool for bettering mankind, just as you do. Your work is impeccable, and with such strong leadership from yourself, it is no wonder."

Maxis paused, "Thank you, General."

"But I know what your problem is. I know why your organization has continued to achieve privately, but fail publicly. I am sure you have run into them? … The Illuminati?"

Maxis was shaken, unsure what to say next, for fear of reprisal.

Steinbauer continued, "I had my suspicions after what Lehmkuhl told me about the first incident. It was an act of deliberate sabotage. I questioned why Group 935 would halt weapons manufacturing, despite the continued successes of its projects such as the DG-2."

Maxis looked to his feet, "They threatened my daughter… "

"I do not blame you, Doctor, I do not. Their men are everywhere, pulling the strings, manipulating this war to meet their own ends. They are in your organization as well as the Reichstag."

Maxis asked in a hushed tone, "Who? Who are they?"

"I have my suspicions about a few in your staff as well as my own, but I cannot be completely certain. As far as I am aware, they have successfully infiltrated our government, and they want to end this war with an Allied victory."

Ludvig had his head in his hands, "What can we do?"

Steinbauer leaned towards Maxis, garnering his attention, "I have been preparing for this for some time. I have gathered names of people that I know I can trust with no connection to the Illuminati. We have come together to form Die Spinne: When Berlin falls, and it will, my loyal men will be planted around the world, ready for the Reich to rise again from the ashes."

Maxis was intrigued, "Die Spinne?"

"My proposal, Doctor Maxis, is a partnership with the new Reich. We have garnered a great deal of wealth in the form of gold, and we will be able to fund your projects for decades to come. In exchange, you will perfect the undead army. Not only this, but you will give us weapons to blitzkrieg across Europe once again. You will give us Super Soldaten to strike fear into our enemies."

Maxis feared the same mistakes would be made as in the current war, "What makes you believe we will be successful this time?"

"Frankly, Doctor, this war has been a colossal failure due to the arrogant leadership of the current Party. Adolf Hitler will not be the Führer forever. Even he can see what is coming. Under my leadership, we will be more able to accomodate your needs, unlike the Reichstag. We will not spread your resources too thinly to get results. There is also the added benefit that we are operating in the shadows, prepared to strike when we are ready. Time is our ally."

Maxis inquired, "What of the Illuminati?"

"They must not know about our partnership. As far as they, and the world, are concerned, Group 935 has cut ties with the Nazi Party. However, a new group will be formed… one which is to focus on the goal of carrying out our Master Plan. It shall be known as Group 6-0-1. Group 935 will continue to operate at all of its research stations, uninterrupted. Meanwhile Group 601 will work in the shadows, prepared for the day we will rise once again. You will have plausible deniability, as Group 935 will still be considered independent. After this war has ended, the Illuminati will be too busy setting their sights on their next target to worry about you, Doctor."

Maxis nodded, "This arrangement may indeed work… I would need to find out who amongst my men I can trust to be a part of 'Group 601'."

Steinbauer agreed, "Indeed, that should be priority number one. I will share with you those I am suspicious of in your staff, but the rest is up to you. I trust your judgement, Doctor. We are alike in many ways."

The pair stood up, shaking hands. Maxis paced towards the balcony, looking out over the stage, "I still fear for my daughter's safety. There is no telling what this Illuminati is capable of."

Steinbauer said, "Send her to your Siberian Facility. Not only will it be the perfect location to hide progress on your Super Soldaten Program, but she will be safe from harm. I will send my most trusted soldiers to guard the facility, and no one outside our arrangement will know of its true purpose. She will be safer there than anywhere else in the world."

Maxis thought it over. This may indeed be the place she would be safest. He began to review names of potential staff to recruit for this new Group, and who he should send to Siberia, those who could be most trusted. Doctor Richtofen crossed Maxis' mind, not because of his trustworthiness, but because of the fact that he, too, was threatened by the Illuminati along with Samantha. He could not be connected to them, if that were the case.

Maxis turned to Steinbauer, "I must ask, why is it that you have entrusted me with this secret? What if I had declined?"

Steinbauer grinned, "I knew you would accept the offer, Doctor, because I know the real reason you started Group 935, more so than that meteorite in Poland."

Maxis was puzzled at first, slowly realizing Steinbauer's meaning.

Steinbauer continued, "Do you remember when Group 935 was asked to supply IG Farben with gases for their experiments?"

Maxis nodded as Steinbauer went on to say, "One Doctor Blome took part in that project, and the two of us eventually met and bonded over a shared interest: A certain… theory that I know you were eager to prove for years, Doctor Maxis."

Steinbauer approached the door as Maxis followed. He went on, "While your men break the trust barrier and create super soldiers in Siberia, I suggest you stay here and work closely with Doctor Blome. Your men will create the army the German People need to reclaim their country, while you will perform the work the German People need to reclaim the world."

The General stepped out of the room, tipping his hat to Maxis as he prepared to close the door behind him, "Believe in the Welteis, and the dead start walking."

The door shut, leaving Maxis in the midst of silence. He paced over to the window, watching as the bodies were carted off backstage.

This will not be the end of Group 935. There will be one final, grand effort.

18th of May, 1945

Message For Ludvig Maxis

Subject: New Scientist Requiring Special Approval

Doctor,

While you have entrusted me with the staffing of our facilities in your absence, I feel it is necessary in this case to seek your special approval for a scientist who wishes to join our organization. Dr. Peter McCain has studied Pathology in Munich for the past seven years, garnering an impressive body of work for all his efforts. He certainly seems eager to join Group 935, however, I have my reservations about his allegiance. While he has lived in Munich for much of his career, he was primarily educated in the United States.

Despite Germany's official surrender, he could prove a liability in our partnership with Die Spinne. You mentioned previously that Chancellor Steinbauer warned us of potential spies in Group 935 that could jeopardize our current efforts. The spy discovered at Der Eisendrache last year proves it is possible for our enemies to hide within our own staff. Dr. McCain's background appears clean, however, I leave the final decision up to you, Ludvig.

Also, I have informed Dr. Richtofen of your orders to relocate to the Siberian Facility in the coming months. He has been reluctant to cooperate, but is currently gathering necessary equipment and scientists here at Der Riese. Samantha appears happy and healthy.

Best regards,

- Doctor Porter

Act III – Operation Shield

Chapter 31: Blowtorch & Corkscrew

Paris, France

Agent Peter McCain

June 3rd, 1945

Peter tried not to think about the mission beginning tomorrow, but his anxieties continued to bubble up to the surface and reminded him of the cost of failure. Even with all the training, all the guidance, and all the preparation, anything could go wrong.

Cornelius assured Peter, "I'll be ready to send in the cavalry if anything happens."

Peter added, "Assuming I can get a signal to contact you, that is."

Cornelius asked, "You're assuming you won't?"

"It's possible."

"It's also possible it all goes off without a hitch, and you come home with the key to world peace. But are the best-case and worst-case scenarios very likely?" Pernell smiled, opening the door before them to allow Peter to walk through.

"Not very." Peter stepped inside the building, an old French bar filled to the brim with US Marines working with the OSS.

Pernell grabbed Peter's shoulder, "So, most likely, the mission'll go somewhere between really good and really bad. You'll hit a few snags along the way, but you'll pull through. Just like San Fernando, just like Innsbruck, and just like that business in the catacombs."

Unsatisfied with Pernell's reasoning, but appreciative of it all the same, Peter nodded, "I guess we'll see, then."

The room was populated by a dozen or so men in green and a civilian bartender. Most of the men were congregated at a round table on the right side of the room, a handful of them playing cards, and the others drinking and laughing.

"Grab yourself a drink and join them, Peter," Pernell said, "It's on the OSS's dime. Just remember, no talking about work. They don't need to know all of what you know."

Peter scanned the wall of bottles, "Who could say no to a free drink?"

He began walking towards the bar, freezing at the sight of a lone Marine with their head down. As they took a sip of their cocktail, Peter realized who the Marine was.

Peter jolted back and nearly took a swing at another Marine who wrapped his arm around Peter's neck, "What the hell?!"

The drunk Marine began to laugh upon realizing he had frightened Peter, pointing at him as his friends laughed.

Peter was prepared to fight the older man, before he revealed who he was, "Calm down, kid! My name's… Raine, Sergeant Raine… But, tonight, and tonight only, you can call me Johnny!"

Raine was set to receive the Medal of Honor for his actions at Peleliu, risking his life to save his team. Peter had nearly knocked out a bonafide hero.

Peter outstretched his hand, "It's an honor to meet you, sir."

Raine accepted the handshake by clasping both palms around Peter's hand, "S'nice to finally meet the man on the mission!"

Peter smiled, "I assume you guys aren't celebrating the fact that you'll be joining me."

One of the Marines asked, "Didn't you hear?"

"Hear what?" Peter asked.

Another Marine shouted, "The 1st Marine Division took Shuri Castle! Ooh-rah!"

The others shouted alongside him, "Ooh-rah!" They all started to chug their drinks.

Raine shrugged, "Okinawa is just a matter of time. If the Tojos have any sense, they'll give up before we give 'em hell right where they live!"

Peter nodded, "That's news worth celebrating, alright."

Raine paused, cocking his head, "You don't seem too happy, kid."

"It's nothing, sir. Just pre-mission jitters."

He smiled, patting Peter on the shoulder, "Buck up, Peter. We're gonna win this damned war." He finished off his pint glass, before walking past Peter towards the bar for another round.

Peter then spotted the Marine at the bar looking in his direction, before returning to his drink. He dreaded the thought of talking to this man, but he knew now would be the time to make amends.

He paced towards the bar, his mind swirling with conflicting thoughts telling him to run, to find someone else to talk to, to sit down, to yell and scream… He finally worked up the courage, taking a seat next to Dempsey at the bar.

The pair did not say anything for a few moments, staring straight ahead towards the wall of drinks. The bartender was too busy filling glasses for the celebrating Marines to take Peter's attention away, so he had to make the first move.

Peter pointed to the orange-tinted cocktail Dempsey was sipping from, inquiring, "What kind of drink is that?"

Dempsey stopped sipping, staring blankly at the wall before responding, "It's a… a Blowtorch."

Peter nodded slowly, as if anticipating a further explanation. "... What's a, uh, a Blowtorch?"

Dempsey cracked a smile, taking another drink, before replying with the ingredients, "It's a mix of vodka, lemon juice, and orange juice with ice."

Peter nodded once, "Ah… sounds good."

After a moment, Dempsey turned to Peter, "It actually has a pretty interesting story behind it… Wanna hear it?"

"Sure, sure."

Dempsey motioned to the bartender, saying with his best French accent, "Encore une." The bartender began preparing the drink, as Dempsey turned his body to face Peter.

"So there's this explorer, Admiral Richard Byrd, who wants to take a crew out to Antarctica for some kind of expedition. Why anyone would waste their time exploring that frozen hell-hole, I don't know. But he was dead-set on doing it. He had everything he needed: Ships, some trained sailors and doctors, and a big fucking coat. But, there's one crucial thing he didn't have that any sailor who's travelling thousands of miles across the ocean is going to need: Booze."

Peter interjected, pulling the now-assembled cocktail towards himself, "Obviously."

"Problem is, though, it's 1928. The Eighteenth Amendment says he can't bring any alcohol for his crew. Yet, he manages to get literally thousands of gallons of booze onto his ship by claiming it was for 'medicinal purposes.' He says it is all locked up in storage, and the only guy with the key is their medical officer. So they let him sail, and sail he did. They passed through Panama, then to Tahiti, then New Zealand… "

Peter added, enjoying the sweet taste of the cocktail, "Sounds more like a vacation than an expedition."

Dempsey said, "Exactly! Finally, they get to the Antarctic, and it's like a non-stop party for months. All these egghead types are getting hammered and bouncing off the walls. They, of course, snap some pictures of the ice along the way and make some maps; You know, explorer stuff. Back home, people believed Admiral Byrd's crew had been sober for the entire trip, but it was all bullshit. Anyway, the medical officer, I don't really remember his name, but the guy who held the keys to all this booze had a bright idea for a new drink. He mixed some grain alcohol with lemon powder, orange juice, and ice. They called it 'The Blowtorch.' With this new invention, they drank long into the night, forgetting just how miserably cold they were. And now, we must honor their genius."

Dempsey raised his glass, and Peter promptly raised his. Peter cheered, "To Byrd and his crew!"

The two downed most of their drinks, Peter shivering as the cold concoction chilled his body. He felt a rush of adrenaline upon realizing he had conquered his fear by speaking to Dempsey, but he did not have much else to say. His mind began to wander, and his anxieties returned. "I'm thinking I might need another one of these… " He finished off the glass, nodding to the bartender to make another.

Dempsey took notice of Peter's mood, one he recognized from their past. "You're not celebrating like those jokers. Something's up."

Peter stared at a set of photos on the wall, all of them of civilians holding weapons they used to liberate France from Nazi rule. "Have you heard the story that got me this job? In the Philippines?"

Dempsey scoffed, rolling his eyes, "Only about eight… thousand times."

"That's all these guys really know about me, huh… Yeah, well, when I escaped I told my squad I'd be coming back for them. I said that the intel I had would end the war in a matter of weeks."

Dempsey nodded, "That was three years ago."

"You always were the math wiz… Anyway, I was good friends with a guy in that squad. Private Wesley Johnson. Corporal hated our guts, but we were as thick as thieves. One thing leads to another, and we're marching without food and water for days. Marching to our deaths. Wesley's a scrawny guy; He needs water, badly. I kept pushing the Japanese to let us stop with some success, but Wesley just wanted to give up and die. I kept telling him he couldn't. I pestered him to march on every time I saw him shut his eyes for even a second. When I left at the train station, he promised me he would keep fighting. I promised I'd come back for them."

He paused as the bartender finished assembling his drink, and he took a sip before continuing, "I kept asking about the prisoners at Camp O'Donnell, and they kept saying a rescue operation would take place. Three years, like you said. My handler, Cornelius, told me these things take time. He kept up the positive, motivational act he always puts on, but he knew the reality of it. Anyways, in January they liberated the camp… and found Wesley's body. Cause of death was malnutrition. He kept his promise… "

The two men stared into their drinks for a few moments, sharing the brunt of the pain. Dempsey finally spoke up, "Losing people's a part of the job description… I know that doesn't help much. You just need to push that pain back to where you can't feel it anymore. Where no one can see it."

Dempsey finished his drink speaking some vague words resembling French to the bartender, who gave him a pint of beer.

Peter smirked, "No more Blowtorches, eh?"

"Yeah," he scoffed, "I usually only have one just for special occasions. Gotta keep an image of manliness for my squad, and fruity drinks don't help much with that."

"I heard… that you've got a new nickname."

Dempsey put his hand to his forehead, hanging his head in embarrassment, "Yeah, I guess I do."

Peter nudged him, "Come on, say it."

"You're just going to make fun of me. Besides, you already know it."

"Making fun of a Corporal? Me? You know, I've grown up some in the past few years."

"Okay, Special Agent… They call me 'Tank'."

"'Tank' Dempsey?"

"I knew you'd-"

"No, no, no, it's pretty badass."

"You think?"

"Of course. How'd you get it?"

"Long story."

"Ah, I get it. What happens in Peleliu, stays in Peleliu."

Dempsey took a sip from his beer, "Unless you're John Raine."

Peter placed his fingers on his chin, sarcastically interested, "You've got gripes with the Sergeant? Who would've guessed?"

Dempsey placed his mug on the counter, muttering under his breath, "He's a Grade-A Asshole. He keeps bragging about this medal he's gonna get for holding down a position while his squad escaped, but I mean, hey, he made it out. Couldn't have been that brave… "
"Oh, please. Were you there?"

"No, but neither were you."

"I'm just saying, they don't give that medal out to just anyone."

Dempsey raised an eyebrow, returning to his drink, "I guess. Still don't like him."

"Do you think your guys like you?"

"Hell no. But that's just how it works. That's called chain of command. The guy above you is always the bigger asshole."

Peter raised his glass, "I'll drink to that."

The two Marines felt a sense of camaraderie they once thought was lost. Peter had so many stories he wanted to tell his re-acquainted friend.

"You want to know about my last big mission?"

Dempsey asked, "Did you file a really big stack of paperwork?"

Peter pointed at him sarcastically, "For your information, paperwork is only 75% of the job. Anyway, I was with two French freedom fighters-"

Dempsey cut him off, "Wait a minute, should you be telling me this?"

Peter shrugged, "Who cares? We won't remember this in the morning. Anyhow, we had to pass through the catacombs to meet with a spy who had infiltrated Group 935."

"The fucking catacombs?! Aren't you afraid of the dark?"

"I was when I was twelve. But, listen, we pass through the tunnels for a long, long fucking time. We finally arrive at the rally point, and I get what I need from the spy. His name was, uh… I think Pablo, or something."

Dempsey set down his drink, cutting Peter off, "Wait, wait..."

"Why?" Peter said, "I'm not even at the best part."

"What did this Pablo guy look like?"

Peter paused, thinking, "I, uh… I dunno, he had a beard. Black hair, fair skin. A fairly young guy with a Mexican accent. What, do you know him?"

Dempsey nodded, "Yeah, I loved that guy! The OSS sent him to our camp in '42 to train us with some of their gadgets. The guy loved to talk, that's for sure. I even had a few drinks with him. Poor bastard threw up in his beer… "

"Huh. Small world. I heard he stopped contacting his handler. He might be compromised… No telling what Group 935 would do to him."

Dempsey shook his head, "Fucking Germans."

Peter asked, "How much do you know about Group 935?"

"It's like you said before, the world would be better off with their whole operation dead and buried. Nobody with any good bone in their body sides with the Nazis. Good thing our boys in Europe took care of them… It's fucking crazy to think this war is almost over. We actually beat the Nazis."

Peter finished his glass, taking a break from drinking for the moment, "With Group 935 still around, I know the fight isn't over yet. You heard what one of their figureheads said about the German surrender?"

Dempsey asked, "What?"

"'The Nazi Party sent our fatherland into a war we firmly detested. Though we accepted their funding, Group 935's goals are not, and were never aligned with the Nazi Party. We will continue to operate independently, wholly separate from any world government.'"

"Bullshit..."

"Right?" Peter nodded, "I can't wait to stick it to those bastards."

Peter glanced around the room, noting the Marines now playing a board game at the table, and Pernell sat at another table near the door, chatting with a pasty-faced, young Marine.

Dempsey leaned over, "Sorry for cutting you off. You said something about getting intel from Pablo in the catacombs?"

"Yeah, yeah. Anyway, he let me know some big demonstration was supposed to take place at one of 935's facilities in front of the Nazi Party. He handed me some documents, and we made our escape back the way we came. We ran into some rogue Nazis before we made it out, though. There was no way we could take them one on one, so I baited them into a crumbling section of the catacombs, and this girl, Sylvie, tossed a grenade, caving in the tunnel on top of them."

"Holy shit."

"Yeah."

"Sounds like she was the real hero of that story. You were just the bait."

"Who do you think trained her?"

Dempsey replied, slyly, "Someone who could make the baseball team, probably."

"Still holding that 'solitary arm-training regiment' over my head, huh?"

"What can I say, I'm the best at what I do, and what I do-"

A drunk, red-faced Marine stumbled between the two of them, holding onto the bar to keep from falling, "Tank! We need one more for Charades, come join us!"

Dempsey frustratedly replied, "Smokey, I'm in the middle of a conversation here. Maybe later."

Smokey glanced at Peter, eyebrows raised. He spoke with slurred words, "Who… who's this?"

Dempsey said flatly, "That's Peter McCain. The guy we're escorting tomorrow night..."

Nearly falling over, Smokey let out weakly, "Oh… "

Dempsey snapped his fingers, calling Smokey's attention, "A better question, Private, is why didn't you recognize him?"

Smokey straightened out, "Well, I, uh, I was in the bathroom when he got here, so… "

Dempsey stood up, now looking down on Smokey, "His face was all over the dossier. I'm starting to suspect you didn't look over it as thoroughly as you were supposed to."

"Corporal, I-"

"So I suggest you sober up, and instead of playing games, you become better acquainted with the mission ahead of us. Is that a fine suggestion, Private?"

"Yes… sir!"

Smokey stumbled away towards the bathroom at a quick pace, nearly knocking over a bar stool as he did so.

Dempsey returned to his seat, as Peter offered him a smile, and a long, drawn out whistle. "Wow. That's new."

Dempsey chuckled, "He's gonna be out cold before he can even read the dossier tonight. Sometimes, you just need to look like you're laying down the law."

"Impressive stuff."

Dempsey paused, before asking, "You said earlier something about a big Group 935-Nazi demonstration. I know it's above my paygrade, but… how'd that turn out?"

"You're right, it is above your paygrade. And I'd have to kill you if I told you."

The pair stared each other down for a few seconds, neither willing to blink. Peter's eyes became tense, before he finally blinked, and the two shared a hearty laugh.

Peter continued, "It went poorly, to say the least. So poorly, the Nazi Party actually did cut ties with Group 935 before the war ended… officially."

"Officially? What's that supposed to mean?"

Peter glanced around to Cornelius, noting he was still occupied with another Marine. He spoke softly to Dempsey, "Pernell says I'm crazy… but I get this sneaking suspicion that there are still Nazis out there funding Group 935."

Dempsey inquired, "Why's that?"

Peter pondered for a moment how much he could reveal, but for an old friend, he could share the details of his conspiracy theory, "The thing is… word has trickled down from our scientist on the inside, Doctor Yena, you remember him?"

"Yeah."

"He says experiments on the undead are still ongoing, even now. He also has not noticed any significant budget cuts since they cut ties with Germany. The OSS thinks the undead experiments are purely for medical purposes now… but I think there's still someone out there pulling the strings, ready for Germany to rise again."

Dempsey shook his head, "Pernell's right. You are crazy."

Peter smirked, "I'll bet I'm right."

"I don't take bets, not after that last time."

"Fifty hard-boiled eggs didn't sound that bad at the time."

"Hindsight's a bitch, ain't it?"

Peter nodded, "Sure is, old buddy."

Out of the bathroom stumbled Smokey, who then leaned up against the bar muttering to the bartender, "Water… water… " He soon took the hint.

Peter gestured to Smokey, "So he's one of yours? Where's the rest of your squad?"

Dempsey turned in his chair, nodding towards the Marine talking to Pernell, "That's Private Ridge. He thinks he's too cool for bars. Seems like your handler's the same?"

Peter shrugged, "I guess he has a stick up his ass sometimes."

Dempsey returned to facing the wall, "You've met Smokey of course. Then there's John 'Banana,' who's a teetotaler."

Peter muttered, "John… "

"Banana. Yeah."

"You guys and your nicknames."

Dempsey shook his head, "For the love of God, if you meet him, don't ask him what it means."

"I won't. I'm asking you."

Dempsey locked eyes with Peter, expectantly. "You know… "

"I do. I just want to hear you say it."

Dempsey motioned to the bartender for another pint. He cut Peter a glance, "So, uh, about those 'Zombies'… You ever seen one up close?"

"Nope. And I hope I never do."

Dempsey took a sip of his beer, "I dunno… aren't you a little curious about how they put up a fight?"

Peter leaned in, "Considering the Germans wanted to make an army of the things, I have a pretty good idea."

"Just sayin'. Could be interesting. Maybe even a little fun."

"Nothing about this mission is going to be fun… 'Tank.'"

"I don't exactly envy it… having to act like you admire those evil bastards. But hey, if you ever lose your cover and need some help, my squad'll be there…"

"Oh yeah. I've got you and John 'Banana'."

Dempsey chuckled, "My guys are good, trust me. We've got your back."

Peter nodded, "I don't doubt it. They've got a good leader."

The two men sat in silence, sipping their drinks, the air filled with the jubilation of the drunk Marines sitting nearby. Peter felt something creeping up in the pit of his stomach, a memory which had haunted him for some time, convincing him that he and Dempsey would never talk again. Rather than confront it, Peter pushed this memory away, rising to his feet.

"I'm about to head out, maybe try to get some sleep."

Dempsey nodded, "Probably a wise idea. But I'm stuck babysitting these numb-skulls."

"I can see that." Peter scanned the room, as if looking for the right words to quell the rising anxiety in his body. Instead, he said, simply, "It's been great catching up. I hope I won't need your help on the mission, but I'm hoping we can catch up like this again soon."

Dempsey raised his glass, "Likewise, buddy."

Peter turned away, feeling instant regret as he failed to say what needed to be said. He approached Cornelius, "I'm about to head out, get some sleep maybe. You staying?"

Pernell scooted his chair back, rising to his feet, "I should do the same, really. Big day tomorrow. It was great to meet you, Paxton." He outstretched his hand to the Marine at the table.

"Likewise, Cornelius. And good luck to you, Agent McCain."

Peter waved, "Thanks, brother."

Peter and Cornelius headed out the door into the dark, damp streets of Paris.

Cornelius asked, "So, how'd it go, Pete?"

"It was alright. I think I'm ready for the mission now, Cornelius."

Memorandum To All Research Stations

Date: June 6th, 1945

Subject: Nacht der Untoten

Several American aircraft were spotted flying over our Airfield Research Station in Germany two nights ago. Due to the experiments being performed there under the cover of darkness, it seems one of the aircraft malfunctioned and crash-landed near the station. Unfortunately, a convoy of army trucks carrying Element 115 and a garrison of undead was making a routine stop there at the time. The undead were let loose in the chaos, and tragically, reports show no survivors from the station, Group 935 or otherwise. We will mourn the loss of our staff, while also searching for possible solutions to reclaim the station before the Americans return to investigate the crash. If this is not possible, security measures will be taken to ensure materials on-site do not fall into the wrong hands.

Our operatives near the site believe that by flying overnight, the Americans were intending to pass over undetected. We must maintain our independence as an organization by keeping our work secure from prying eyes. Follow all standard security protocols and report any suspicious activity to your superiors. We must remain vigilant of enemy spies, or risk losing everything.

Chapter 32: Black Cats

Laboratories, The Giant ("Der Riese"), near Breslau

Agent Peter McCain

July 13th, 1945

Agent McCain's training had done little to ready him for the heightened sense of fear and the scrutiny he had experienced from members of Group 935. Though security is tight within the organization, the staff present at Der Riese are unexpectedly hostile to newcomers. Peter was led to believe Group 935's key facility would be home to the most professional and esteemed scientists; It seems the war has not only ravaged their country and their morale, but also their ability to trust one another.

Peter did, however, suspect that Group 935 was fully aware of American interest in their assets. As a research assistant at The Giant, Peter had heard murmurs from his superiors about some place they called Nacht der Untoten, or simply Nacht. In German, it means 'Night of the Undead.' This Nacht der Untoten took place at what was apparently one of their facilities, a seemingly abandoned airfield in the middle of nowhere. A plane carrying Peter's escort, including the famed Sgt. John Raine, malfunctioned and crashed, creating the chaos that the location is now named for. Peter had done his best to suppress the guilt of the tragedy. Though he played no part in it, the men died on his behalf. They were heroes.

For the past month, Peter had endured the menial grunt work assigned to research assistants. This included fetching supplies, providing vital tools during experiments, and keeping up with a seemingly endless supply of notes and research. None of this research, however, held the Golden Goose Egg Peter had been searching for. His supervisor, the acting chief of Der Riese, Doctor Porter, had mainly assigned Peter to experiments regarding the Perk-a-Cola project; Today, however, would be different. Doctor Porter had called for Peter and another assistant, Doctor Graves, to report to one of the labs for a "biomedical" experiment.

Peter passed through the Animal Testing Labs, glancing at cages filled with diseased, underfed canines, their eyes meeting his, begging to be freed. They did not wag their tails, not like those Peter knew back home. There were also smaller cages with rats, as well as a pen filled with monkeys, screeching as they climbed the interior of the pen. Several panicked men were surrounding the pen, looking in at the monkeys. As Peter prepared to exit into one of the nearby hallways, he was stopped by one of the scientists.

A sweaty, balding man grabbed Peter by the shoulders, asking quickly, "Have you seen my monkey?"

Peter raised an eyebrow, "Your... ?"

The man placed his hands flat, about a foot and a half apart, "This big. Brown fur except for its face, which has white fur! Tail is about… Mein Gott." His attention had diverted to a doorway behind Peter.

Peter turned to look, watching as a monkey matching the scientist's description passed through, dragging a ring of keys. In tow were a dozen or so cats of the same breed, with mostly black fur and specks of white.

Peter grinned, whispering under his breath, "Clever little bastard… "

The scientist shoved him aside, yelling at his colleagues attempting to wrangle the loose cats, "Los, los, shut all the doors!"

As much as he would have loved to stay and watch, Peter had important business to attend to. He headed out into the hallway, ascending a pair of stairs before stopping at the lab Doctor Porter had asked him to find. Through the viewport in the closed door, Peter could see Doctor Porter and Doctor Graves already setting up the experiment.

With the door being locked, Peter knocked, catching Porter's attention, who seemed mildly displeased. The door swung open and Porter motioned to a watch on his wrist, "You're late, Doctor McCain."

Peter maintained a jovial attitude, "Apologies, Doctor. There was a bit of a… catastrophe on the way here."

"No excuses, McCain. Join Doctor Graves at the operating table." He swiftly turned away, beckoning Peter to follow.

Before Graves was a man on the operating table. From a distance, Peter could only make out thick locks of black hair. Upon closer inspection, he was shocked to realize that he recognized him. He was paler and thinner than Peter remembered, but the man on the table was certainly the Mexican spy he had met in France: Pablo. His handler had reported a lack of response from Pablo sometime near the end of 1944, assuming the worst. It appears this was a correct assumption.

After overcoming the initial shock, Peter followed procedure, sterilizing his hands and acquiring gloves. Porter had prepared a syringe, and approached the table, "Gentlemen, you have the privilege of taking part in an experiment upon a subject who is… truly remarkable."

Graves cocked his head, looking over Pablo, "I do not see what is so special."

Porter continued, "On the surface, there is nothing of note. However, this subject in particular has had a unique reaction to an abundance of 115 injections. For most, even a miniscule amount of Element 115 injected into the bloodstream is cause for a fatal heart attack, and soon after… reanimation. In this subject's case, however, pure 115 had no ill-effects on his vital organs… apart from the brain. His mind is, well, kaputt. He babbles about symbols and knights in some medieval war. We believe this is because he has spent a majority of his captivity at Der Eisendrache. Still, his body is what is most interesting. The 115 in his bloodstream seems to have enhanced the body's natural healing abilities. After receiving lacerations, his flesh begins to repair itself at a rapid pace, without any of the negative effects present in undead subjects' bodies. Though he is mostly unwilling to cooperate, we have determined that his strength and durability have also improved considerably. Much like your, er, Jugger-nog tests. However, these effects seem to last indefinitely. 115 has become a permanent part of his blood."

Graves appeared bewildered, looking over Pablo's body like a child looking under the Christmas tree. He asked Porter, who was now searching for a vein, "Are we going to dissect him? To find what makes him so special?"

Porter replied, acquiring Pablo's blood, "I'm afraid not. We are simply collecting a sample of his blood for storage, and then we will be performing some shock experiments. I would also implore you two to be careful with the subject. He will be dissected in time, just not by us."

Porter pulled the needle from Pablo's arm, placing it in a safe location. Peter spoke up, "Who will be dissecting him?"

Porter glanced back at them, "He will soon be property of The Butcher."

Peter was confused, glancing at Doctor Graves, who was now smiling, nodding his head with assurance. Peter whispered, "Who's The Butcher?"

Graves seemed shocked at the question, "That's Doctor Richtofen, of course. It's a nickname the French gave him during his stay there. He talks all about it in his memoirs. Didn't you say you'd read them?"

Peter shook his head, "I must have… skimmed that part."

Graves said, "If this is his subject, we may soon get to meet him. He's supposed to be sent on a secret assignment in the coming days, and he's passing through Der Riese today to collect some things."

Peter shuddered imagining finally seeing Doctor Richtofen for the first time. Though he had studied his life in his time before Group 935, Peter had the feeling this would not be the man he would soon meet.

Doctor Porter wheeled over a machine that looked like a generator with several knobs and switches. He applied electrodes attached to the generator to Pablo's temples before returning to the other side of the table. "Doctor Graves, use masking tape to cover the subject's mouth. Believe me, he can be quite irritating once he is awake."

Graves did as he was told, applying the tape to the comatose Pablo's lips.

Porter continued, "Ensure the restraints are correctly tightened. Graves, you will be tasked with ensuring the electrodes remain attached and the subject is properly restrained. Doctor McCain, you will amplify power on the device, starting with only enough to wake him before rising on my command. I will monitor his heart rate to ensure he remains alive for the duration of the test. May we proceed?"

Graves checked the restraints at Pablo's wrists, nodding to Porter, "Yes, Doctor."

Peter looked over the knobs of the device, unnerved by the pain Pablo must have suffered, and that which he will soon suffer by Peter's own hand. After a moment's hesitation, he nodded to Doctor Porter, "Ready to proceed."

Doctor Porter clicked his fountain pen and said, "Initiate the test with a low voltage. Slowly increase until the subject is conscious."

As instructed, Doctor McCain activated the machine, causing it to hum. He twisted the voltage knob slightly, hearing a light buzzing coming from the machine. He began to notice Pablo's eyes darting in a random pattern beneath his eyelids. After reaching ninety volts, Pablo's chest lurched forward, before slamming back onto the table. His eyes were wide open, and he began to scream beneath the tape at his mouth.

Porter raised an open palm to McCain, "Disable the device for the moment."

McCain did as instructed, watching as Porter held Pablo's right eye open, shining a flashlight into his pupil. Pablo continued to jerk at the restraints with great force, still unable to move. Doctor Porter backed off, writing something down on his clipboard. He motioned to Peter, "Doctor McCain, reactivate the device and up the voltage by ten."

Pablo's body had begun to rest, though his eyes still darted around randomly. As McCain did as he was told, Pablo's body continued to writhe in agony. Graves had a look of genuine curiosity, while Doctor Porter's expression was blank, as if his mind were elsewhere. After a few moments, he motioned to Peter, "Up by ten."

Peter could not bear to look Pablo in the eyes as he continued to up the voltage, instead focusing on his fingers which were dug into his own palms and shaking violently. After a few more agonizing seconds, Porter ordered McCain, "End it."

Without hesitation, Peter did as he was told. Pablo's body went still, but he was obviously still alive. His eyes had stopped darting around, and were instead focused on objects within the room: The ceiling light, the clock on the wall, a recording device by Porter's side, and the generator which created his torture. Finally, he glanced up to Peter, looking intently into his eyes. Peter could do nothing but look back, remaining calm in his disguise.

The heart monitor beeped at a more rapid pace, and Peter could see with certainty that despite whatever delusions Pablo had been experiencing, he now recognized him. Pablo's eyes shut as his breath rate increased, and as he opened his eyes once more, tears began to well. Despite all this, McCain did not break.

Graves came around to Peter's side of the table as Doctor Porter wrote in his notes. Graves leaned down to the broken, tortured soul on the table, and smiled. "Look at his eyes, Doctor McCain. He's begging you to help him!"

Graves chuckled, turning to Peter, as he noticed his stifled reaction. He continued, "Don't feel so bad, Peter. He was a spy. Isn't that right, Doctor Porter?"

With no positive or negative cadence, Porter replied simply, "Indeed."

Doctor Porter finished up his notes, returning to the operating table, "We will up the voltage further, then he will be sent for a psychological evaluation. We will determine if electro-shock therapy is a viable counter to the negative effects of 115 injections. Are you ready, Doctor McCain?"

Peter stifled the guilt from his actions, justifying them as Cornelius told him to, by remembering the ultimate goal of his mission: Putting an end to Group 935, and putting their work in better hands. This was what Pablo would have wanted. He replied, "Yes, Doctor… "

Peter reactivated the device, upping the voltage as instructed. Pablo continued to twitch and squirm in his restraints. The muffled screaming behind the tape continued to increase in volume until Pablo's voice became hoarse. Porter motioned again, "More."

Peter did as he was told, and as if his body could not comprehend any more pain, Pablo froze in place, his face expressionless. Porter barked, "Enough!"

Doctor Porter examined Pablo's pulse and his eyes. He was unconscious again. "Damn," Porter exclaimed, "Perhaps we were too quick. Hopefully there is no permanent damage. I would not hear the end of it from-"

From the hallway outside, there was a flamboyant, distinctly German-accented voice who said, "For the last time, Samantha, you are coming with me, und that is final!"

The faint voice of a little girl replied, "But why?!"

The German retorted, "Because your father said so! We all must do what your father says, no matter how-" He had arrived at the door of the lab, attempting to force it open, before looking inside and banging on the glass, "Porter, open the damn door! We have important matters to discuss!"

Porter muttered under his breath, "Speak of the devil… "

The man Peter was now sure was Doctor Richtofen continued to bang his fist on the window in an irritating, repetitive pattern until Porter finally allowed him inside. As Porter opened the door, Richtofen called back into the hallway, "Doctor Yena, handle the child!"

He was taller than Peter expected, standing out not only due to his confident swagger and obvious charisma, but also due to his uniform. He appeared to be wearing a beige Nazi Officer uniform, a stark contrast to the stuffy, white lab coats worn by everyone in the room. Peter was puzzled by the uniform, as Richtofen had no military history, and any actual Nazi Officer would soon be facing trial. Doctor Richtofen wore this uniform simply because he wanted to.

Richtofen paid no mind to the two research assistants, one of which was more excited than the other to be seeing him, and he approached Pablo, now lying completely still. "Is this the test subject I will be taking with me? Hm… He's quite handsome."

Porter replied, "Yes, we were just running some tests before he is, well… yours."

Richtofen nodded, "Wunderbar. Anyhow, I need to speak with you about our… benefactor's wishes. Your assistants… "

Richtofen spoke coyly, motioning towards McCain and Graves. Porter approached his two assistants, "You two have done well today. I will be sure to note your involvement with today's test in my report. It is almost lunch, so you are dismissed. Afterwards, return to your posts."

McCain and Graves both replied, "Yes, Doctor," before heading for the door.

In the hallway to the left, Peter could see Doctor Yena on one knee, speaking to the young girl he had heard before. Peter walked right with Graves towards the cafeteria. Graves spoke excitedly, "I just couldn't find the courage to speak to him, Peter… He just has such a commanding presence, wouldn't you agree?"

Peter replied, glancing back to ensure Yena was still standing at the other end of the hall, "Yeah, for sure. Hey, I'll catch up with you in the cafeteria in a few minutes. I think I forgot something back in the lab."

"Sure, Doctor," Graves said, "Hopefully we can more formally meet Doctor Richtofen sometime before he leaves."

Graves headed out towards the courtyard area and onward towards the cafeteria, while Peter stayed in the hallway. He paced back in the direction he came, coming up to Doctor Yena, who had just sent the little girl away.

"What's with the babysitting job?" Peter asked.

Yena let out a sigh of relief upon seeing Peter, "That's Samantha Maxis, Ludvig's daughter."

"Wait, has she been with Richtofen ever since-"

"Ever since Doctor Maxis left for Berlin, yes."

Peter asked, confused, "I thought Doctor Richtofen hated children?"

Yena assured him, "Believe me, he still does. He pawns the responsibility off on anyone in his orbit… This is not quite the work I expected when I agreed to infiltrate this organization."

"It hasn't been so great in my position either. All the higher-ups here are so… jumpy."

"Several of our spies have been caught in the past year, and I believe there is something big coming… I also believe it has to do with our upcoming assignment at the Siberian Facility."

Peter asked, "What's happening in Siberia?"

Yena glanced towards the lab door, being sure Richtofen was still occupied, "I'm not so sure yet. I'll be briefed upon arrival. Doctor Richtofen did mention you and Porter were working with one of his subjects. What can you tell me about the subject?"

Peter shook his head, remembering the pain he had inflicted upon the poor Pablo, "He was a spy they captured at Der Eisendrache. He had his blood drawn, and I, er, we gave him electric shocks to the brain."

Yena inquired, "What were you hoping to accomplish?"

Peter continued, "Doctor Porter said something about him being previously injected with Element 115. Instead of suffering a fatal heart attack and being turned into one of those monsters, his body resisted the negative effects of the Element. Something about being able to regenerate and an increase in durability. This all comes at the cost of his mind being frazzled. He didn't even seem to know where he was half the time, and the Doc mentioned going on delusional rants."

Yena thought for a moment, "Strange. I assume the electro-shock therapy is an attempt to counteract the effects on his brain… You said he was resistant to reanimation, so I do not see how our research would apply to the undead experiments… This is something else."

"I guess we'll find out soon enough, right?" He paused for a moment, asking, "What about the DG-2 experiments?"

"They're continuing at the Rising Sun Facility. Doctor Richtofen believes the Wunderwaffe will soon see mass production."

Peter cocked his head, "Why? Doesn't he know the war in Europe is over?"

Yena adjusted his glasses, "That's what still troubles me. I think there's something that Richtofen isn't telling me. Something that I'll discover when I get to Siberia."

Yena looked to his feet, then to Samantha, who sat patiently in a chair, holding a teddy bear closely. "I'm afraid of what Doctor Richtofen is capable of, Peter. You and I both know he is a genius, but his exposure to Element 115 over the past few years seems to have changed him drastically. He is angry and spiteful, hurling insults at anyone who he sees as beneath him. I believe he is also suffering from delusions of grandeur and memory loss. On several occasions he has lashed out at staff for failing to fulfill demands he never made."

Peter asked, "Do you believe he could still be an ally in our mission?"

Yena shook his head, "Unlikely. Your proposal made complete sense at the time, Peter, but after spending so long with the man… I can't ever see him being an ally to the United States. We would be fools to trust him."

Peter nodded in agreement. "Will you be able to get an extraction if things go south up there?"

"The facility is deep in the tundra of North Russia," Yena replied, "Communication will be spotty and I doubt the Soviets would be willing to provide much help if something went wrong. I believe I'm going to be alone on this mission."

"I've got a hell of a lot of respect for you, Doctor." Peter wished there was some way he could help Yena, but he knew his mission required him to stay put.

The door to the laboratory swung open then slammed shut as Doctor Richtofen stepped out into the hallway, adjusting his Officer's cap. He turned to face Yena, surprised to see McCain still around. "I can see you've made a new buddy, Harvey." He cocked his head, passing a fake grin to Peter, "Und who is our little buddy, hm?"

Peter worked up the courage to reply to the imposing Doctor, "I'm Doctor McCain. I, uh, studied Biology in Munich and-"

Richtofen cut him off, "Ahhh, Biology! Then you must know who I am. So, what brought you and Harvey together?"

Peter looked to Yena, unsure what to say, as Yena cut through the silence, "We went to school together, Doctor Richtofen. A long time ago."

Richtofen chuckled, "Yes, of course! Two Americans with American accents und American features und American ways of thinking! What a coincidence you two would meet in this organization, at this facility, on this day! Why, Doctor Yena und I are only passing through! It really is such a small world!"

Yena did his best to form a smile on his clearly anxious face, "Indeed, Edward. I hadn't thought of Peter in quite some time." He turned to Peter, "Congratulations on being accepted into Group 935, by the way."

Richtofen placed a firm grip on each of their shoulders, chuckling, "Yes, welcome to Group 935, Doctor McCain: Where every day is a new adventure!" He soon dropped the jovial act, speaking plainly to Yena, "We should be gathering our work, now shouldn't we, Harvey? We wouldn't want to be late."

Yena seemed well-acquainted with Richtofen's quick change of tone, promptly turning away, passing one final goodbye to Peter, "Of course, Doctor. It was pleasant catching up with you, Doctor McCain." He then departed down the hallway, Richtofen close behind.

Richtofen then passed a glance back to Peter, "Yes, auf Wiedersehen, American!" He offered an exaggerated 'goodbye' hand gesture before turning around.

"What a lunatic… " Peter muttered beneath his breath.

Chapter 33: Exodus

Siberian Facility, near the Tunguska River

Dr. Edward Richtofen

July 18th, 1945

Oh, what Doctor Richtofen would give to leave the cold, desolate Siberian Facility in favor of the similarly cold, desolate Moon Base. Griffin Station would at least be child-free, a status Richtofen now yearned for. While Doctor Yena attended to much of the moving-in processes, Edward mostly stayed indoors, juggling his responsibilities as a scientist and as a caretaker for young Samantha Maxis.

She swung her legs back and forth, resting on a metallic table, "I miss Daddy. Do you think we could try calling him again?"

Richtofen cringed at the repeated request as he marked several vials with labels in the laboratory, "For the last time, Sam, you get one call per day. Screening your calls through security is already taxing enough on MY time; I am sure your father does not appreciate them eating up his own hours."

"But, Uncle Eddie-"

Edward continued, "You're acting as if you don't even want me around. Is that true? After all I've done for you?"

She looked down in defeat, "I'm sorry, Uncle Eddie, I just miss him so much."

Richtofen pulled a small bottle from an upper cabinet marked 'Ex. 4 NEEDS WORK.' He turned the vial on its side to watch the clear liquid flow from one end to the other.

Samantha shared her true feelings, "I just want things to return to the way they were… Before Daddy left… Before I had to live in such cold places… "

Richtofen searched for a clean syringe from a drawer, nodding in agreement with Samantha, "I do too, Sam… It was a much simpler time then. There was no war… und we weren't creating monsters… " Richtofen placed the syringe into the cap of the bottle, pulling in some of the liquid inside to fill the syringe. He then placed it on the nearby table.

Richtofen turned to Samantha, "I know something that may cheer you up. How would you like to be my assistant for today?"

Samantha perked up, a glint of hope in her eyes, "Really? What about Doctor Yena?"

Edward leaned in, whispering, "Between you und me, Sam, I think you may be better qualified. I'm sure you've noticed he's quite clumsy."

Samantha giggled, nodding her head, "I'll help you."

Richtofen put his hands together, offering exaggerated joy, "Wunderbar!" He motioned her to come sit on a nearby stool, "Sit, please. I will explain everything."

Doing as he instructed, Samantha eagerly sat on the stool, awaiting instruction.

Richtofen leaned over to ask, "Do you know what red blood cells are?"

Samantha thought, "Hmm… No, I don't think so."

"Not a problem! To put it simply, they transfer oxygen through our blood to vital organs. I will need to collect a baseline sample of cells to compare to the test subj-, er, I mean, friends that will be arriving soon. Their blood is… special."

Samantha squirmed, her smile deteriorating, "You mean… you need my blood?"

Richtofen placed his index finger and thumb of his right hand together, replying, "Just a teensy little bit. Science isn't all fun and games, you know!"

Sam nodded, "I know… but… Usually my Dad is here to hold my hand when I get shots… "

Edward sighed, thinking, "What if I brought you your Teddy? Hm? Would that help?"

Sam looked to her feet, muttering, "Maybe… "

Edward opened the doors leading to the boiler room, where he had instructed Sam to leave her Teddy Bear while in the laboratories. He picked the toy up off the ground by its arm, returning it to her.

She hastily accepted the bear, holding it tightly, "I think I can be brave."

Richtofen grinned with great satisfaction, "Excellent, let's begin."

As Sam watched, Richtofen reached into a drawer, removing a clean, empty syringe along with a bandage. Samantha tried to mask the fear she felt as Richtofen brandished the needle, looking towards the doorway.

Richtofen instructed her, "Look at the clock on the wall." She turned her gaze to Richtofen's Kit-Kat Klock, watching as its tail swung back and forth each second. Richtofen continued, "Count each second that passes, und focus on the clock. It will be over before you know it."

She began to count, "1… 2… "

Richtofen pulled her gaze away from the clock to himself, saying, "In your head, please," before smiling. She turned once again to the clock, mouthing the numbers as Richtofen searched for a vein in her right arm.

Richtofen ensured Samantha's mind was elsewhere, slowly trading the empty syringe for the syringe filled with the experimental liquid he had prepared earlier. He located a vein, injecting the needle. Samantha seemed to wince, but continued her counting as instructed. Richtofen pushed the plunger, injecting the liquid into her veins. He then removed the needle from her skin, placing it and the unused syringe into a cabinet. Finally, he applied a skin-colored adhesive bandage to her arm.

Edward congratulated Samantha, "Well done, Sam. I believe you have earned yourself ein cup of hot chocolate after dinner."

Samantha was elated, "Yay! What do we do next?"

Richtofen hesitated, "Well, that is all for today, however- "

Samantha asked, "Shouldn't we look at my blood under the microscope to make sure it has what you need?"

Richtofen struggled to find an excuse why not, "I… suppose we can do that. Why don't you go set your toy down outside while I prepare the microscope, ja?"

"Okay, Uncle Eddie!"

As Samantha skipped over to the boiler room door, Richtofen quickly searched an upper cabinet for a particular bottle. He picked up the empty syringe and the desired bottle labelled 'Frog's Blood.' He siphoned a small helping of the blood into the syringe, depositing a droplet onto a plastic slide and placing the slide under a nearby microscope.

Samantha returned, eager to take a look at her own blood. Richtofen had turned on the light on the microscope and adjusted the viewing angle, and he motioned her to get onto the stool and have a look.

While she was occupied, Richtofen paced to the other side of the room, searching through a box he had set aside for today. He removed a stack of eye examination charts with a variety of random letters lined up by row, descending in size the lower they appeared. He approached Samantha, who was ogling at what she believed to be her blood.

"Did you notice anything wrong?" Richtofen asked.

Samantha simply shook her head, peering back into the lens.

Richtofen pulled the plug on the microscope, setting it aside to Samantha's chagrin. "Before lunch today, we have one more thing to attend to."

She perked up, "An experiment?"

"Yes! Wait, no. No it's not. Forget I said yes. I will be performing a simple eye examination to determine if you are in need of glasses."

She appeared confused, "But I'm only ten! Only old people wear glasses."

Richtofen smiled, "It can never hurt to check! This will be quick und easy."

Her excitement faded, "Okay… "

Richtofen continued, "Simply sit down on that stool, und I will stand over… " Richtofen paced around a long table in the center of the room, "... here! I will hold up a card with letters. When I point to a row of letters, simply read out what you see."
He pulled the first one from the stack, pointing to the largest letter at the top, "What do you see?"

"Z!"

He moved down another row. She said aloud, "S and C!"

Richtofen could now confirm she had not gone blind. "Let's speed up the process, shall we?" Edward pointed to the third row from the bottom, a series of eight small letters which should barely be seen from Samantha's position.

"K, V, S, K, B, K, X, N!"

"Impressive! Next."

"K, L, K, C, D, K, B, N!" With great ease, she quickly spouted off the final row, "R, O, C, O, B, F, O, C!"

Richtofen squinted to look at the card's bottom row, discovering she was correct.

Samantha smiled, "This is fun!"

Richtofen was pleased with the results, but wanted to test the limits of the experiment. "Let's try something a little harder, shall we?"

Richtofen swapped the current card out for another, pacing towards the back wall opposite of Samantha.

"Now, cover your right eye. Let's start at the third row from the bottom! Focus!"

Doing as instructed, she began, "D, R, O, Y, B, N, O, B."

Richtofen then began to move the card side to side at increasing speeds, attempting to disorient the subject.

"K, X, N, Y, C, C, N, U!"

Richtofen then tilted the card. By this point the letters would be nigh invisible.

"S… C… R… S… C… K-"

Richtofen chuckled, tossing the card aside pre-emptively, "I am positive you do not need glasses, Sam. Well done, you may take ein piece of candy und leave."

She leapt from her stool, running to the candy jar near the doorway and removing a piece, "Thank you, Uncle Eddie!" She picked up her Teddy Bear and left the laboratory.

Richtofen was ecstatic about the results of the experiment. The substance provided near-instantaneous effects on the subject's eyesight, just as the primate tests had before. After it wears off, Richtofen will need to ascertain any lingering side-effects. Richtofen would forward the results to the rest of the base and perhaps a new Perk-a-Cola would come from them.

Edward paced over to the jar of candy, removing a red, strawberry-flavored candy and placing the cap back on top. He stopped, removing the cap once again and taking two more candies. He deserved it.

Satisfied with his work, Edward sat in a wooden chair, leaning back and kicking up his feet. As the acting chief of the Siberian Facility, there was no one around to tell him he could not put his feet on the workstation, nor was there anyone to tell him he could not have two extra pieces of candy. He exhaled all of his worries, shutting his eyes to relax his mind for a moment, letting the sweet, sugary taste of the candy coat his thoughts. This reprieve was short as the voices in his head began to creep in slowly. Richtofen added a second candy into his mouth, hoping the additional sweetness could blunt the growing tension.

Edward reached for a drawer, removing a hand-held recording device, hoping a diary entry for today would maintain this positive mood.

He activated the device, speaking directly into the microphone, "Log Entry 1438. Date: July 18th, 1945. Dear diary, I have been at Group 935's Siberian Facility now for merely days, but mein cup already runneth over with exciting news! First, yesterday, I learned that I would receive not one, not two, but three test subjects!" He let out a sigh of joy at the prospects. "Hopefully with proper 115 injections we will be able to use these specimens to access the human mind. The Chancellor's Undead Army is on standby until we crack this crucial step. Und secondly-!"

From a door leading outside of the base came one of the Siberian Facility's security personnel, a massive, brawny gentleman Richtofen simply referred to as Frederick. He was dragging across the concrete floor a peculiar man dressed in a heavy snow-covered jacket and wearing a fedora. This same man had been spotted yesterday snooping around the base in search of something, before being chased away from the facility. Richtofen had rightfully assumed the man could not stray too far from the base under the harsh icy conditions.

Frederick bellowed out, holding the man at Richtofen's seated eye-level, "Here he is, Richtofen."

The strange man struggled with Frederick, attempting to wriggle free from his grasp. He screamed, "Get your damn hands off me!" He sounded like a stereotypical American crime film actor.

Richtofen leaned over, smiling as he peered into the man's eyes, "Now what do we have here? A spy?"

"If you know what's good for ya, you'd let me go!"

Richtofen was amused by the American, "Oh yes, ja, ja, I'm sure you work for someone incredibly important."

The man shook his head, "Honestly? You have no idea."

Richtofen asked, "How did you find mein secret facility? Who are you?"

The man stopped struggling, answering Richtofen's questions, "I'm a reporter. I was hired by a man, Mr. Rapt. I never met him. He asked me to find some goods for him. Things he wanted badly."

Richtofen replied, sarcastic, "Sounds thrilling. And what were these 'goods' he wanted so badly?"

The reporter sighed, "Look, I don't know the specifics. He just told me to travel to Russia." He pulled a small note from the brim of his hat, showing it to Richtofen, "He gave me these coordinates, which led me here. How was I supposed to know it was a freakin' German base?! Gave some vague description of a strange metal object."

The strange man had been caught looking through crates brought to the base from Der Eisendrache, including the one at Richtofen's feet now. Richtofen had a feeling the man had been searching for the Vril Vessel, an artifact recovered from the Angolan Dig Site several years ago. Richtofen pulled the urn-shaped, gold-colored Vril Vessel from the box, holding it by the pointed top portion of the ornate artifact. "This, I assume?"

The reporter nodded, "Yeah, that'll be it. Called it the 'Seal of Duality,' whatever the hell that means."

Richtofen placed the Vessel back into the box. "Well, the Vril Vessel is not for sale," Edward pinched the reporter's cheeks like a child, "And is certainly not for stealing. But, it is curious: I have only just arrived at this facility, bringing the Vril Vessel with me. Yet, you somehow knew it would be here. How is this possible?"

The reporter shook his head, "How the hell am I supposed to know? I just go where the Shadowman says to go. I don't know how he does it. Listen, if Mr. Rapt wants to find you, he's got his ways."

Richtofen's interest piqued at the mention of the Shadowman, the entity that has been guiding Richtofen's quest to reach Agartha for the past five years. How could this spy possibly know of his existence? Was the Shadowman hiding something from Richtofen?

The reporter continued, "Look, you want to go ahead and get this over with? If you're gonna kill me, kill me. Not like it'll matter..."

Richtofen said nothing, still pondering the connection between the Shadowman and this Mr. Rapt character. An alias, perhaps? He was also curious what else the man had to say.

The reporter chuckled, shaking his head, "It's kind of funny, you know. Something Mr. Rapt said, about if I failed him and died, it'd be okay. He said he'd reach out to me all over the multiverse, whatever that means. I didn't pay it no mind then, but maybe some other me is out there having a lot better luck than I am."

Could these be the ramblings of a madman? Had he truly been reached out to by the Shadowman, just as Edward was, or is he simply delusional? What does he mean by multiverse? Edward had studied the theories many times, but if this supposed reporter was not insane, this could perhaps be confirmation that there are indeed alternate universes. Could there be other Richtofens out there, on the same journey as himself?

Frederick broke the silence left in the wake of the reporter's ramblings, "Sir, what should we do?"

Richtofen gave a toothy grin to the reporter, now eager to pursue this new lead in his studies, "Take the strange, sad little man away!" Bluntly, "Find a hole." He deactivated the recorder.

Frederick took hold of the reporter with both hands, dragging him towards the door as he desperately tried to break free.

"You're gonna regret this, do you hear me?! I've seen what the Shadowman can do! You'll be sorry! You'll be so-" Frederick shut the door behind him.

The voices began to creep into Richtofen's thoughts, sensing his growing stress as the implications of a multiverse frazzled his mind. He heard the distinguished voice of the Shadowman say, "You understand now the significance of your work, don't you? We seek to share the power of the Aether with all worlds like yours."

Richtofen stammered, "I- I- I am humbled. He spoke of many versions of himself across a multiverse… Does this mean there are more of… me?"

The Shadowman chuckled heartily, "Indeed, Edward Richtofen can be found across many dimensions, serving under our guidance. They are each similar, but unique in their own purpose. This revelation will not alter your path, but it will propel you forward upon it."

"Who was this Mr. Rapt he spoke of? I have never seen the Vril Vessel being referred to as the 'Seal of Duality' in Jebediah Brown's writings."

The Shadowman spoke candidly, "Pay him no mind, Edward. He is a pawn in a larger game, serving our needs as well as yours. It will all begin to make sense with time, Doctor. Continue your work for the Apothicons, and one day, we promise, you will meet one of your reflections."

Richtofen nodded, as he gazed up at the ceiling, "I will. I have no doubt in my own purpose; Our purpose."

"If one lesson is to be learned today, it is to keep what belongs to you close at hand. You never know who may wish to take it from you."

The voices began to dissipate, and Richtofen's attention returned to the world around him, which now seemed so much smaller. He pushed the chair under the desk, coming to his feet and pacing around the room to think over the current situation.

The intruder's, and by extension, the Shadowman's interest in the Vril Vessel intrigued Richtofen. While he had partially dismissed the American blacksmith's writings found three years prior, he was now beginning to believe they, and the artifacts recovered from his estate, held much greater significance. The Vessel was meant to be a component, one of three, for the 'Agarthan Device.' It supposedly could bend reality to the creator's will, but the remaining two components eluded the blacksmith. Perhaps there is more that can be done with Group 935's technology to create these components.

Richtofen looked to the icy shoreline outside the hill-side laboratory, and the currently active lighthouse guiding disguised German cargo ships into the port of the facility. Richtofen lamented that even after Hitler's death, Group 935 must continue to bow to the needs of the Nazi Party, now hiding out around the world through Die Spinne and this damned "Group 601". When Maxis shared the news that Group 935 would continue to be funded by the Party, he also shared another interesting tidbit that pleased Richtofen.

Maxis informed Richtofen discreetly that he and his cohorts at the Kino Facility had been harassed by none other than the Illuminati, hoping to halt progress on the Undead Army. Leave it to The Order to find the facility before Richtofen could. This whole business with Die Spinne was apparently conducted under the nose of the Illuminati. The only reason Doctor Maxis had entrusted Richtofen with the task at hand was because he believed it was impossible for Richtofen to be working for the Illuminati, as they had threatened to harm both Edward and Samantha if Maxis did not cooperate. It was a common tactic they used to get what they wanted, and Richtofen doubted that they were in any real danger with his own notorious status.

It amused Richtofen that he now held damning information related to the supposed Fourth Reich now forming somewhere in South America, ready to restart the war. With but a few words, Richtofen could have all of these 'men' hanged for their crimes by informing the Illuminati, and Maxis' dreams would come crashing down around him. He abstained, however, as he knew this sort of leverage may better serve him at a later time. The Illuminati had planned this war for years, and they would be gracious to anyone who exposes a threat to their post-war plans.

He began to think over those plans; The conflicting ideologies of Capitalism and Communism will be forced to work together in order to halt the influence of Fascism, and they will butt heads as they attempt to divide up war-torn Europe. The effects of these plans are already coming to a head, with tensions rising between the United States and Soviet Union after Germany's formal surrender. Over time, the two superpowers will continue to distrust one another, sparking more powerful alliances as the two sides gather allies across the Earth. They will be so preoccupied with being more powerful than the enemy that they will play right into the Order's hand, which will be pulling the strings on both sides to create the desired New World Order. It seemed to almost be a perfect plan, though Edward had found many of their methods distasteful in the past.

What if, however, Edward Richtofen was to take advantage of this tension as well? Both sides were desperate to infiltrate and steal from Group 935, blocked from a hostile takeover by the claim that the organization is independent. One way or another, however, they would be coming for 935's work.

Richtofen had an idea, an ingenious one at that. The Soviet Union and the United States needed Group 935's technology desperately… So why not hand it over to them, for a price?

Doctor Richtofen returned to his desk, taking a piece of stationery from a stack in the corner, and locating a pen from the drawer. He found himself a comfortable position, and put pen to paper, marking a historical moment in human history.

"Dear Mr. Harry Truman, my new best friend… "

Chapter 34: Breaking Point

Approaching Wittenau Sanatorium ("Verrückt Facility"), Berlin, Germany

Agent Peter McCain

August 31st, 1945

Yesterday, Peter received a transmission of an unknown origin on his personal radio. The audio was barely intelligible, but a few key phrases stuck out in the garbled noise. The sender referenced Element 115 and told Peter to find Doctor Richtofen at the Verrückt Facility. Peter assumed the transmission had come from another agent planted in the organization, and followed the orders accordingly. Surely enough, a convoy to Verrückt had been underway at Der Riese. Peter lacked proper papers to get through security and join the convoy, but a mysterious individual pulled Peter into an alley and placed forged papers into his pocket. They allowed him access to the disguised convoy, which had travelled overnight across war-torn Germany to reach Berlin, and now Wittenau Sanatorium was in sight.

Peter shared the truck bed with several non-sociable young scientists who acted suspicious of his every move. One man across from where Peter was sitting was reading a book by Doctor Edward Richtofen, recounting his research just before the war broke out.

"I've actually read that one. What do you think of it so far?" Peter tried to break the unbearable, awkward silence.

The reading scientist peeked over the top of the book with a disgusted look, "I have read it before."

Peter noticed that the other men were now looking at him in a similar way. He debated keeping quiet, but he was curious how the men viewed "The Butcher."

"Doctor Richtofen certainly has a very interesting take on the world. I wasn't really expecting, you know… that."

The Doctor shut the book, placing it at his side and staring straight ahead, away from Peter, "Why should he not share his opinion? He is a man of great knowledge. And purpose."

Peter could feel the eyes of four other men now buried into him, ready to expose his cover. He backed off, leaving a trailing remark, "Sure, sure… "

Through the port leading into the cabin of the truck, Peter could see that the convoy was now preparing to stop and unload at the asylum. It was a welcome sight compared to the flattened homes in the German countryside that the convoy passed.

Though the asylum was still standing, there were clear signs of aerial bombing nearby. All of the trees and grass in the surrounding area had been burned due to the bombs, yet the building seemed nearly unscathed, as if preserved by the bombers. Peter had heard nothing of Americans attempting to take Verrückt, so he assumed that this was the work of the Russians.

Peter leapt to his feet along with the other men, who were now forming an orderly line to the entrance of the asylum. Despite the severing of ties between Group 935 and the Nazi Party, there stood at the entrance an SS Officer along with several other men in uniform, weapons brandished. Such blatant Nazi activity no longer appeared at Der Riese, 935's primary facility, however Verrückt's activitiesare meant to be a total mystery to anyone but the most trusted of members. As a research assistant, Peter should not even be aware of its existence.

Along with the Nazi men were crates adorned with their insignias, as well as a currently unmanned tank in the courtyard. It seemed these men were prepared to defend the facility with their lives. If push comes to shove, Peter had a hidden weapon in his boot which he had acquired from France.

The line finally progressed, and Peter handed the officer his papers. He eyed them up and down with suspicion, but they clearly indicated he was meant to be here. He was allowed access to the facility.

The air reeked of putrid, rotting flesh, and despite the amount of people working here, it was eerily silent. Men simply shuffled about, heads down, as they went about their day. Peter spotted a man in a gown strapped to a wheelchair, his mouth covered, being wheeled into another nearby room. Peter slowly pursued, watching as several scientists unstrapped his wrists, placing him onto a dentist's chair. He was then restrained by the men, who prepared the work station as the subject simply moaned, as if unable to even speak. Peter noticed something odd about the men surrounding him; The scientists were Japanese. Memories began to bleed in of his encounters in the Philippines, and the Division 9 trucks filled with POWs.

Peter was caught standing in the middle of the hallway by a towering man, his lab coat marked with the Division 9 insignia. "Where are you supposed to be?!"

"I-I-I-" Peter tried to remember his directions, "I'm looking for Doctor Richtofen… "

The scientist shook his head, "Richtofen is not here. He has not been here in years… Give me your papers."

Peter did as instructed, and the man looked over them quickly, muttering with contempt as he did so, "Research assistant… Der Riese… American… Why does Porter waste my time…"

He shoved the papers into Peter's chest, saying "Report to the genetics research lab, and stand clear of the hallways."

"Where is that, Doctor, uh-"

He interrupted harshly, "I am Doctor Okitsu! That way, passing through two doors. Learn the layout, and stay out of the way. "

Peter did not waste time in following orders, seeking to separate himself from this Doctor Okitsu. If Richtofen is not here, then was the message a hoax? Who sent it? What could Peter do from here?

The only solution in sight would be blending in during the day, then sending a transmission to Pernell at night.

As Peter passed through a set of doors, he now realized the awful smell was emanating from the morgue, where orderlies were storing bodies, some fresh, and some older, most likely recently undead subjects. He could now hear screaming coming from the previous room, and he picked up his pace.

He passed through another set of doors into the genetics research lab. Several men stood around a metal pod filled with a water-like substance. There was a malformed human body inside with a missing arm and extra toes sticking out of the soles of its feet. The Group 935 scientists paid little attention to Peter as they took notes and spoke amongst themselves. Peter prepared to introduce himself to the men, but fell to the ground as the wall caved in and the men were engulfed in flames.

Peter's ears rang and his eyes were of little help, his vision now doubled. He soon realized the explosion had thrown him head-first into a wall. The exact passage of time was unclear to Peter, but he could now hear through the ringing: There was shooting and screaming in German from beyond the wall he was now laid up against. Inside the room, there was nothing left standing, the upper floor now caved in, exposing the daylight and a crater near where the wall had once stood.

Peter now had the strength to crawl, approaching the doorway leading back towards the morgue. He could see several men in Nazi uniform shooting out towards the area he had encountered Doctor Okitsu, and several undead on the ground. Peter feared the possibility that the Russians were now preparing to take the facility. He watched as a walking corpse pounced on the SS officer with great force, toppling him to the ground. The creature punched through his chest as he screamed, tearing out his guts. For a moment, the zombie paused, as if with human clarity, and it could now see Peter through the open doorway. It stared blankly into him for only a moment, before being gunned down in a hail of bullets from a nearby German soldier. The soldier approached the SS officer's mangled body, touching his face to see if he was alive. He then rose to his feet, alerting soldiers in other rooms, "Alles klar!"

Peter had been so shocked by the sight he did not think to reach for the weapon in his boot. No amount of training could have prepared him for the ferocity of the undead. Data showed that their strength rivaled that of the average human, a byproduct of their resurrection with 115. Despite the simplicity of their brain function, they could tear through a human body with ease. Peter lamented the fact that the OSS desired Group 935's research, after seeing first-hand the results. He saw nothing of value in anything he had witnessed today.

Peter did his best to rise to his feet, slowly approaching the man from behind, arms raised to let them know he was not one of the undead. Before he could say anything, a hand was placed over his mouth and he was dragged down the hallway by an unknown assailant. Peter's body was too shell-shocked to put up a fight, but he was soon after thrown to the tile floor inside of a small, dark room, with the door being shut behind him.

He did his best to rise to his feet again, his sense of awareness shaken by what had just transpired. Peter was returned to reality at the sound of a distinct voice cutting through the darkness, "That was a close one, mein friend." The voice was that of Doctor Edward Richtofen.

Richtofen pulled the cord of a lamp, lighting up his corner of the room, illuminating his tan, Nazi uniform and signature grin. He gestured to a chair at a nearby desk, "Please, have a seat. We have much to discuss."

Peter remained standing, silent. Richtofen continued, "So, you are a spy! I knew it!"

Peter shook his head, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Richtofen chuckled, "Don't worry, Peter, I know everything! I sent you the message to find me here, then like a good little boy, you did just as I asked. So reliable. No wonder they chose you!"

Peter lifted his arms, frustrated, "Alright, now what do you want with me? What was all this about?!"

Richtofen crossed his legs, leaning back in his chair, "Please, please, I understand you were nearly killed just moments ago, but you must remain calm for what I am about to propose."

"Why should I?! What's keeping me here?!"

Richtofen placed his fingers to his chin, glancing away as if in thought, "Hm… Let me think about that, oh ja, our burly friend, Frederick, who brought you here, the rampaging undead subjects, the Red Army, und maybe, just maybe, the possibility that I may expose you as a spy und throw you to the trigger-happy, adrenaline-filled men with MP-40s."

Peter searched the room for any possible method of escape, finding none; There was only one way in and out. He let out a sigh, before taking a seat as Richtofen suggested, "Alright, point taken."

Richtofen wagged his finger, "Come on, Peter, hear me out! I promise this will be worth your while! Today, I will make you a bonafide American hero!"

Peter appreciated that he could at least have a moment of reprieve from his work, though he loathed listening to even another second of Richtofen's grating voice. He motioned to Richtofen to continue.

"Thank you! Now, what if I told you that I would be willing to strike up a deal that would provide the United States with Group 935's vast wealth of research AND scientists?"

Peter was confused, as all attempts to work with Group 935 after the end of the war resulted in radio silence. He had assumed recruiting Doctor Richtofen himself was a lost cause. "Why now?"

"I'm sure you have realized by now that the Russians can wait no longer to get what they desire. You've just seen un example of what they are willing to do to force a surrender! In exchange for our cooperation, we are seeking asylum in the United States, pun intended! Asylum, und a few other fair demands… "

Peter asked, "Demands?"

Richtofen pulled out a drawer from a nearby desk, and retrieved a piece of folded paper; He passed it over to Peter.

Peter scanned the document, a notarized list of ridiculous demands that seemed to benefit nobody but Richtofen himself. Only he would have the audacity to do something so insane. "You can't be serious?"

Richtofen continued to grin, nodding his head, "Oh, I am, American. I must be clear that this is not a surrender, but an agreement. We must be compensated for our cooperation, no?"

"You mean you must be compensated! Does anyone else even know about this deal? What about Doctor Maxis?"

Richtofen returned to leaning back in his chair, "Believe it or not, this whole thing was his idea! Seriously!"

Peter shook his head, "So you think American forces are just going to waltz in here, and everyone is just going to willingly come with us without resisting? Why do I have trouble believing that?"

"It sounds to me like you have personal hang-ups about me… " Richtofen's expression had soured.

Peter continued, "Correct, Doctor. I've read your books, studied your work, and had the displeasure of sifting through your mail. I know you're a habitual liar and will step on anyone to get your way."

Richtofen stood from his chair, "You have no idea who I am! No idea what I'm capable of! Do not call me a liar, you baseball-watching, apple-pie eating little-!" He shut his eyes, staying silent for a moment. Peter noticed that Doctor Richtofen's hands were shaking. He continued, "Just do as I say, American. Send a transmission to your handler or whomever, and allow me to prepare my men for what is coming."

Peter sat still in his chair. Frustrated, Richtofen pointed his finger at Peter, "Go on, contact him! … Or her!"

Peter spoke with confidence, "You are not going anywhere. I'll send the transmission, but you are staying right here until I get orders from my handler."

Richtofen asked, "Do you know who I am?! Without me, our work in Siberia will grind to a halt! Without me, this deal will not take place! My people are loyal to me, and only me. I tell them what to do, do you understand?!"

Peter nodded, "Oh, I understand that you've got them eating out of your hands. But, problem is, I don't trust you to keep your word. So, we're staying right here."

Richtofen laughed, though his demeanor was clearly one of frustration, "How do you intend to keep me here, American?!"

Peter reached into his boot, removing a tiny, single-shot FP-45 pistol and taking aim at the now shocked Doctor.

Richtofen said nothing, his intensity diminishing. He slowly slumped back into his chair.

Peter kept the pistol aimed towards him as he removed the radio from his belongings. "Now keep quiet while I do this. No calling for help or we're both gonna have a problem."

He extended the antenna and began a transmission, "Cornelius, this morning I was transferred from Der Riese to the Verrückt Facility. It looks like your suspicions were correct: The Soviets are preparing to make a move on Group 935. They've already bombed the hell out of the surrounding area and are beginning to bomb the asylum. I can also confirm we have uniformed SS men on site prepared to fight the Russians. They are heavily armed and dangerous. A recent bombing also set off an outbreak. It seems to have been contained for now, but I have no confidence in Group 935's abilities to maintain control. This place is not going to last much longer. I'd advise sending teams to contain the facility and direct communication with Soviet forces to stay out… So far I have been unsuccessful in securing more Element 115 research, but this place may be key in acquiring it. One last thing: Doctor Edward Richtofen is here, and he has made us a bizarre offer. He says he is willing to give up Group 935 scientists and research in exchange for the safety of the scientists and… his own list of demands. I will now read his offer… It reads, 'Dear Mr. Harry Truman, my new best friend, it is clear to me that the Soviet Union will not halt their imposition of power over Group 935 facilities. I have spoken with Doctor Maxis, and he agrees that his decision to align with the Nazi Party was, frankly, foolish. We have paid the price with many lives being lost among our ranks. To avoid further bloodshed, Ludvig Maxis proposed that Group 935 should surrender its research and its staff to the United States of America in exchange for the safety of its scientists and full legal protection. I, of course, agreed wholeheartedly. A notarized list of scientists willing to cooperate with the United States will be written shortly, along with the identities of their families, if they have any. Any research at our facilities not destroyed by Soviet attacks will be available. This is not an authorization to enter our facilities; There is still much to discuss until the transaction can be made. In order to make the most of my offer, I implore you, Mr. President, to be swift in your decision. I can wait, however, the Communists cannot. In addition, as the dealmaker, so to speak, I ask for compensation to affirm my role in propelling the United States into the modern scientific world. My demands are fair, and they are listed as follows:'"

"His demands are, 'One portrait of Richtofen to be hung in the Pentagon, one American baseball signed by your Babe Ruth, twenty of your American Dollars.' He wants it in the form of ten pennies, four nickels, two dimes, two quarters, four 1's, one 5, and one 10. He wants, and I quote, 'One of these "American Hot Dogs" I've been hearing so much about. One American teddy bear, speaking of… Teddy Roosevelt's moustache from cold storage.' In parentheses, 'I know you have it.' 'One Polarization Device to be constructed,' in brackets, 'Coordinates to be specified.' He also requests a 'Titanium cog of my precise specifications, J. Robert Oppenheimer's Chalkboard, not cleaned,' 'Build a nice flower garden outside your Pentagon Facility, it desperately needs the color,' and finally, 'President Truman's Hat.'"

Richtofen began to smile again in his seat. Peter continued with the transmission, "Look, Cornelius, I don't know what he's up to, and I understand this is a hell of an offer, but I don't know if he can be trusted. As soon as you can, let me know of my new orders. I'll be waiting."

As the transmission ended, Peter leaned back in his chair, the weapon still trained on Richtofen. Richtofen seemed relaxed, placing his hands behind his head. "Und now what, Peter McCain?"

Peter let out an exhausted sigh, "And now, we spend the night in here, together… "

Chapter 35: Downfall

Wittenau Sanatorium ("Verrückt Facility"), Berlin, Germany

Agent Peter McCain

September 1st, 1945

According to Peter's pocket watch, he and Doctor Richtofen had spent the last eleven hours together within the dimly-lit closet; Hardly the night Peter had hoped for. Peter had begun to feel fatigue from sitting nearly motionless, staring at the faux amiable Doctor. To avoid cramps in his hands, Peter switched the hand which held the tiny FP-45 pistol every other hour. He blocked any attempts by Richtofen to strike up conversation, irritated by a lack of sleep and the Doctor's grating, high-pitched voice. Doctor Richtofen seemed satisfied nonetheless, entertaining himself by humming or tapping various tunes or by writing in his diary. Peter waited eagerly for a response from the OSS regarding what should be done with Doctor Richtofen and whether or not his mission is complete. No training could have prepared him for such a tedious experience.

Doctor Richtofen sat, legs crossed, scribbling in his little journal. Occasionally, he would glance up at Peter, look him up and down, let out some irritating sound of self-satisfaction, and return to his journal. It had made Peter increasingly uneasy, and he was beginning to fear Richtofen had noticed his fatigue and planned to exploit it.

A knock at the door startled them both. Just as they had done several times before, Peter motioned to the door with his gun, and Richtofen ordered the knocker to leave them alone, "For the last time, Frederick, I have everything under control! Please leave us."

Peter had ascertained that this "Frederick" was one of Richtofen's lackeys, the surly man who had forced Peter into the closet with him. He never spoke back to Richtofen, simply taking his orders at face value like a well-trained dog. OSS files on Richtofen and his admirers showed he had a way of charming people with his words, both spoken and written. It would explain the devoted magnetism to his work other scientists in Group 935 seemed to have. Yet, Peter saw nothing redeemable about him, nothing to inspire him or alter his loyalties; In fact, he downright annoyed Peter. Maybe it is a part of his process for garnering loyal allies, or maybe he has simply gone insane. His confidence in the current situation seemed misplaced, almost foolish, but there was a part of Peter that feared the possibility Doctor Richtofen may actually hold the upper hand in some unseen way, whether it was true or not.

Richtofen returned to his journal, stopping after a moment and looking Peter in the eye with a devilish smile, "Do you miss me yet, Peter?" Peter attempted to ignore the question, but Richtofen persisted, "Peter? ... Pete? … The lights are on, is there anyone home?"

"Did you always have such a whiny voice? Even as a kid?"

Richtofen let out an exaggerated gasp, clutching his heart, "Whiny?! I thought you were sent here to spy on me, not to wound me! Surely a little diplomacy-"

"Zip it."

The Doctor placed his fingers together one one hand, running them along his closed lips, locking an invisible lock, and tossing away the non-existent key; He returned to writing, a grin on his face.

Peter shook his head and examined the room for what seemed like the millionth time, glancing at the crack in the ceiling, the rusty nails sticking out from the floorboards, and the old lamp sitting on the desk next to Richtofen. His attention was drawn to the Doctor once again as he stifled a chuckle, covering his mouth as Agent McCain had instructed.

Peter finally asked what had been on his mind, "What is it you're doing, anyway? Huh? What's so funny?"

Richtofen pointed to his lips inquisitively, to which Peter responded with an eye roll and a nod. The Doctor said, turning the journal around to face Peter, "Just doing a little doodling. Forgive me, I'm not much of an artist… " The page had a cartoon drawing of a monkey, who was clearly wearing the same lab-coat as Peter and who pointed a gun at the viewer with an angry expression. Richtofen chuckled in amusement at Peter's non-reaction.

As Agent McCain continued to look at the journal, he began to feel slightly light-headed, possibly a result of his fatigue. He leaned back, turning to the wall and ignoring the jovial Doctor outright, apart from keeping the weapon in his hand trained in Richtofen's direction.

"You're not quite what I expected, Doctor."

Richtofen closed the book, placing it into his pocket and unfolding his legs. "Nor I you- Nor you I- … Neither are you, Special Secret Agent Man. I imagined you spies would be far more, er, discreet."

"Really, what tipped you off?"

"Oh," Richtofen pursed his lips, "It's just an instinct. Or an insight, perhaps. You stuck out like ein wart on a... nevermind. You, und Harvey as well."

Despite the fact that Group 935 would soon come to an end, and Doctor Yena's mission as an OSS spy may soon be complete, Peter saw no reason to expose his fellow agent. "Doctor Yena? It's like he said, we went to school together. I think we were both on the baseball team."

"Ja, ja, right. By the way, what is it with you Americans und baseball? Forgive mein ignorance, but it seems that the game is mostly men standing in place doing absolutely nothing."

Peter shrugged, "What do you want me to tell you? The rules?"

Richtofen groaned, crossing his arms, "Nein. Forget it. Perhaps it will become clearer when my signed Babe Ruth ball arrives… "

Peter scoffed, "So those demands were real? Seriously?"

"Believe it or not, Agent, I sometimes have issues trusting people. If my demands are delivered to my exact specifications, I will know that America is to be a dutiful ally indeed! How can I be expected to deliver on mein own promises, if you cannot deliver on yours?"

Peter rubbed his eyes, "Sure. But a deal hasn't been made yet."

"Do you have any reason to believe it will not go through as I have outlined?"

"Call it an instinct. An insight, if you will."

Richtofen replied with only a toothy grin. He twisted his body, lifting his legs up over one of the arm rests, and placing his back against the other. He was clearly uncomfortable, scooting back and forth, trying to find a good position, before returning to his normal posture.

"Tell me more about yourself, Peter. I'm dying to know more."

Peter shook his head, "I'm not interested in what you're selling."

Richtofen crossed his legs again and pushed his fingers together on his lap. "Is there someone waiting for you at home? A family, perhaps?"

Peter ignored the question, not so eager to reveal his innermost thoughts to Richtofen.

He continued anyway, "You seem like the family type. You hold great pride in being un American. Your mission, the one not assigned to you by your handler, is to uphold what you believe to be the American way of living. You believe that I am the antithesis of these values, ja?"

Peter tried to restrain himself from fueling the tiring conversation, but he could not bear it any longer, "I don't know what you know about where I'm from, but there we don't force people to undergo cruel experiments in the name of 'science.' The 'American way' has nothing to do with it. Group 935 needs to come to an end, and those monsters that you are creating need to be exterminated before they become uncontainable."

Richtofen gestured to Peter with exuberance, "Ah-hah! We do have something in common, after all. I was against the idea of an Undead Army from the very beginning, true story! The same applies to the whole Nazi ordeal. I tried to tell Maxis, but look at us now… "

"I bet you feel real good knowing you were right all along. Funny, though, that you continued to work for Group 935 for another six years. Even when it became clear this Nazi deal would be all that you are remembered for."

Richtofen wagged his finger, "You're being mean again, Peter. Just try to remember, I'm the one willing to sell out the evil Nazis. Don't let my uniform fool you."

Peter motioned his weapon-less hand to Richtofen's attire, "So, what is it with that get-up, anyway? Sure doesn't seem like what a Doctor would wear. Or someone who is in the process of selling out the last of the Nazis."

The Doctor peered down at his uniform, puffing his chest out, "But that is where you are wrong, mein friend. Is it not poetic that I would wear the baubles of mein enemy as I send him to the gallows?" Richtofen swished his hand past the medals adorning his breast.

"To me, it seems like it'd put a target on your back when the Russians come."

"Perhaps, yes. But it has served me well these past few years… Oh, how I will miss it when I am forced to hang it up… "

Peter asked, "How'd you get it, anyway? I didn't find any military service in your records."

"Nor should you! I have taken the Hippocratic Oath, after all. It's actually a funny story, but you had to be there… Anyhow, I wear it because it demands authority from everyone who recognizes it. You should see how those SS goons treat me with it on."

"Surely they know you're a scientist, not a soldier?"

Richtofen pursed his lips, searching his thoughts, "Let me tell you a story, Agent McCain."

"I don't want to hear it."

"I promise it will be quick! Once upon a time, I was a handsome young lad in ein Stuttgart orphanage. Every day after school I would walk back to the orphanage up ein long und busy street. Before I arrived, every time, without fail, I would run into ein police officer. The same one every time. He appeared to be quite tall und distinguished to my younger self, und he was feared by any lowly criminals roaming his street. He would take time out of his day to offer me a treat, or to listen to my woes about the local bully. He would give me advice, and I would always take it. Why? Because he wore a policeman's uniform. He could not tell a lie. He must always be right. I trusted his judgement, his opinion."
Peter nodded, "Alright, I get it."

Richtofen placed his index finger out, as if to shush him from a distance, "Shh! There's more! One day, I am leaving for the orphanage, and I spot the policeman. He appears happy to see me, and he is holding some kind of book. He says, 'Eddie!' That's me. 'I know you have been very interested in Science, yes?' I was somewhat of a child prodigy, you see. I told everyone on the street that I would, one day, become a scientist. So I say, 'Yes, I am.' He places the book in mein hands, saying, 'You should read this. It holds many truths about our society.' The title of the book? Versuch über die Ungleichheit der Menschenrassen, translated, An Essay On The Inequality Of The Human Races by Joseph Arthur de Gobineau. I took a look inside the book when I returned home, eager to expand my knowledge. All I found was pseudo-scientific speculation. I tried to explain to the policeman the next day that the idea of a superior, Aryan race made no logical sense. But he told me that I was wrong. I wrestled with my beliefs for a moment. What the officer had told me did not make sense. But, eventually, I conceded the evidence that I had, and I blindly believed him for many years, just as many other Germans did. Only as I grew into a young man und graduated did I realize the lies I had been fed. Again, I ask, why did I believe him? Because he spoke with authority. I was willing to believe anything he said because he wore the uniform of a trusted institution. That, Agent McCain, is why I wear this uniform. These… men will only listen to someone with more medals on his chest than themselves. It's what they have been conditioned to do."

The story disturbed Peter, and he finally began to see the manipulative, charismatic speaker that Richtofen was known to be. For a moment, he almost felt sympathy for him.

"That's quite a story, Doctor. If you're not a race-cleansing Hitler-worshipping Nazi, I guess that makes you the good guy, yeah?"

Richtofen tilted his head, thinking it over, "Well, 'good' is subjective, but I like to believe I am doing the right thing at any given time. Is that not the best that any of us can do?"

Peter leaned forward, "Was the right thing what your people did to that captured spy back at Der Riese? What you're doing to him now in Siberia?"

Richtofen clapped his hands together, smiling, "Yes, yes, yes, I was wondering when you'd bring him up. Is he a friend of yours?"

"His name's Pablo. I only met him once, but he's a good man. You're gonna let him go when we get out of here."

"Are you under the impression that I wish to dissect him against his will?! I'm not a monster, Herr McCain. I'm only doing what I must do to maintain my position in Group 935. With their resources, I have been in a position to make far greater advancements than I could have on my own. I have no personal quarrel with this Pablo, aside from all the spying... No offense."

"Only following orders, right? No blood on your hands."

Richtofen gestured back to Peter, "Much like yourself. You clearly do not trust me, yet it is in your best interests to protect me, because you are simply following your orders. Even when they go against everything you believe in… "

Peter tried to keep himself from lashing out, "Don't even compare my work to what you've done."

Richtofen shook his head, "You sit there, on the tippy-top of your high horse, lecturing me about what I have done, und what Group 935 has done with Element 115. But, do you truly believe that our research is to be better utilized in American hands?"

"Yes, I do."

"Open your eyes, American." Richtofen raised his voice, "Why do you think your mission is not to kill us all and scoop up what is left? Because your government needs us. I know that the United States has a massive deposit of 115 in Nevada, yet they have made no significant technological advancements since its discovery. They would give anything to work alongside us 'monsters.' They are no better than the Nazi Party, und you are a fool to believe their lies!"

Peter could feel an intense frustration building within himself, as he wrestled with the Richtofen's words, "That doesn't change the fact that you are a monster, whether you accept it or not, whether your intentions were in the pursuit of world peace or advancing civilization. When I get back home, I'll see to it that my concerns about you are well known, and that you see justice for what you've done during this war. That is the American way."

Richtofen scoffed, and began rubbing the arm-rests of his chair in agitation and anger. He gripped his head as if he were in pain, his entire body shaking. "You believe that I, Doctor Edward Richtofen, will see a tribunal?! You're mistaken, American. You're… you're insane! I am the well of knowledge from which future generations will drink! When my work is done, I will be among the greatest minds in history! Aristotle, Archimedes, Galileo, Newton, Richtofen!"

He stood from his chair, catching Peter in shock, and ripped him from his seat. Peter attempted to take aim at the Doctor with his pistol, but his strength was not enough. Richtofen threw Peter's arms aside, sending the pistol to the floor in the corner of the room. He attempted to suffocate Peter with his hands, wrapping them around his neck and shoving him against a wall. Peter was quick to retaliate, kneeing Richtofen in the groin and putting his full weight into him, knocking him back.

Richtofen was quick to recover, again trying to grab Peter's neck. The two wrestled with great desperation, eventually slamming into the wooden door of the closet repeatedly. After a few slams, the door came down, and the pair with it. Peter attempted to stand and run, but Richtofen took hold of his lab coat, yanking him back to the floor where he attempted to get on top of Peter.

A crowd of soldiers in uniform and scientists began to approach the duo fighting on the tile floors of the asylum. Through the crowd came Doctor Okitsu, who watched on as Peter and Richtofen each gained and lost control of the fight. He did nothing but watch, allowing the scuffle to continue.

The surly Frederick lumbered into view, pulling Peter up by his collar and placing him into a choke-hold.

Richtofen scooted back on the floor and retrieved his SS cap, placing it back on his head and standing at attention with his finger pointed at Peter with fury, "I've found a spy, Doctor Okitsu! He was holding me captive!"

Unfazed and with minimal care for the situation, Okitsu asked flatly, "What is it you are doing here, Doctor Richtofen? Aren't you meant to be in Siberia?"

Richtofen dusted off his uniform, "Yes, of course. Can't I drop in for a hallo sometime, Doctor?"

Okitsu turned to the debris left behind in the previous day's bombing in the nearby lab, "This is not the best time for visitation, Doctor. Is there something you require of me, Richtofen, or will you be on your way? We are very busy here, and frankly, it seems trouble follows you everywhere you go."

Richtofen glanced around at several Division 9 scientists, now realizing he had no friends in the room, "I suppose not, Doctor. Eh-heh... I don't wish to disrupt your operations."

He prepared to cut through the crowd and leave, but stopped in his tracks, returning to Peter. He leaned in so close that Peter could feel his breath on his face. "Auf Wiedersehen, my friend."

He ordered Frederick, "Take him to the asylum's holding area. I'm sure Doctor Okitsu will not mind if our friend stays behind for some testing."

Frederick did as he was told, dragging Peter away as he struggled. He barely had the strength to think clearly, his energy depleted in the struggle. His blood ran cold as he caught sight of Doctor Okitsu's face staring back at him. He would now be in the hands of Division 9's scientists.

Doctor Richtofen offered a final word to Okitsu, before leaving through a doorway underneath a nearby staircase. The Doctor was gone. The mission continues.

Chapter 36: Lost Apostle

Siberian Facility, near Tunguska

Dr. Edward Richtofen

September 2nd, 1945

The treaty is signed, the war is over; Group 935's mission continues, funded by Die Spinne. Only Doctor Richtofen knew, however, that this arrangement would not last. The Allies will wait no longer. Maxis will pay dearly for his great error in 1939. Group 935's scientists will thank Richtofen for saving them from a lifetime in prison. Once all preparations have been made, they will know the truth.

For now, Richtofen continued his work, awaiting the inevitable contacts from the United States and Soviet Union separately. He chuckled thinking of what Peter McCain must now be enduring at Verrückt, a deserved fate for standing in Richtofen's way, attempting to stifle his plans. The most delicious part of this suffering was that Peter could reveal Richtofen's plot to the unknowing Doctor Okitsu; Yet, he knows the deal must remain a secret in order for Group 935's work to end up in American hands. What a beautifully hopeless dilemma.

Today's agenda involved an experiment with the Mexican test subject, and Richtofen had now entered the Holding Cell and Storage Area in search of him. Doctor Yena stood beside one of the cells, reading a letter.

"Good morning, Doctor Richtofen." He motioned the letter towards Richtofen, "It's from my wife, she-"

Richtofen raised his hand flatly, rubbing his temple with the other, "Let's just skip the pleasantries, Doctor Yena. I feel as if I haven't slept in days."

Yena folded up the letter, placing it back into an envelope on the nearby desk. "I see. Shall I have the subject brought to the lab?"

"Just a moment, Harvey. I want to check in on our other guests..."

Richtofen pushed past Doctor Yena, peering into the cell before him, a sign above denoting the subject inside as "Specimen 1." The interior was dark, the lamp on the desk to the left being turned off.

In the center of the dark room, sitting cross-legged on the floor, was subject N3WB, formerly known as Takeo Masaki. He was a subject gifted to Group 935 by Doctor Okitsu, apparently the former right-hand of the Emperor himself, now disgraced and dishonored. He showed remarkable resilience to 115 injections, and he held a very high intellect, being fluent in seven languages, including English, yet he showed little resistance only a few months into his internment as if he had willingly given up control.

Richtofen asked, "Has he improved at all?"

"No, I'm afraid. He continues to just sit there and mutter those proverbs, again and again. He won't even eat. He has to be force-fed."

Richtofen sighed, "I hope we did not completely destroy his mind, he could be a valuable asset if we gain his trust."

"Agreed. The initial clone is coming along alright, so we will see if this behavior remains once it is fully developed."

Richtofen peered through the bars, trying to get a look at Takeo's eyes, but they were still obscured by the darkness. He could hear him muttering another proverb in Japanese, "Deru Kugi Wa Utareru."

"I give him books to read, pencils to write with, und a mattress, what more could he need? Ungrateful little... " Richtofen paced past Pablo's cell in the center, and peered into the cell of "Specimen 3:" Subject 4N0N, The Russian: Nikolai Belinski. Nikolai had been a subject of Group 935's since the end of the Battle of Stalingrad. His slurred speech patterns led the scientists to believe he had a low intellect, but his diary revealed he was well-versed in Russian literature and was a world traveler before the war. He was also the most uncooperative subject Richtofen had ever known, attempting to fight back with every bit of energy in his body until sedation. The more recent 115 injections, however, have made him almost entirely comatose.

Richtofen stepped back from the cell, caught off-guard by the stench from within, "I see little has been done about the urine smell."

Yena spoke up, "Apologies, Richtofen. He's been bathed multiple times a day, but he simply lies there in his own filth. He still won't respond to stimuli. I'd ask you to re-consider my suggestion-"

Edward dismissed him, "I said I would try it when all other methods have been exhausted. I don't see how vodka could break his… hibernation."

"All I ask for is consideration."

Yes, yes, consideration, and all of his secrets, Richtofen thought.

Inside the cell, Nikolai simply lied still, staring blankly at the ceiling, the only sign of life in his rising and falling chest.

"Und his clone?"

"Also growing as predicted. The Mexican's, on the other hand… "

Richtofen shook his head, remembering the multiple attempts to replicate Pablo's cells, and the many failures in cultivating their growth. "He's starting to become more of a liability to this project than un asset. Perhaps today's experiments will prove me wrong. Fetch Frederick, und get him into the lab."

"Yes, Doctor."

Richtofen walked through the double doors onto a balcony overlooking the Human Transfusion Room. Down below were three pods filled with blue liquid and rapidly growing human clones, now in their adolescent stage.

He continued, turning left into the decontamination room. Passing through another set of doors, he arrived in the laboratory. His headache from sleeplessness only increased at the awful screeching of a row of monkeys in cages.

"Doctor Rifkin?!" Richtofen shouted over the screeching, catching the attention of the nearby scientist.

"Yes, Doctor?"

Richtofen approached him closely, "What are they doing in mein lab?"

"Sorry, Doctor, our experiment went on a little longer than anticipated… I will move as many as I can out of the room before you begin your work."

Richtofen placed his face into his hands, "I don't have time to further delay this experiment."

Rifkin assured him, "They will begin to calm down once you lower the lights in here, I give you my word… "

"Fine. I suggest you adhere to the posted schedule more closely in the future, Doctor. Your career may depend on it... "

Properly frightened, the frail older scientist nodded, "Understood." He promptly began moving two more cages out of the room, lowering the lights as he left.

Richtofen pulled a lab coat from a locker, placing it over his uniform. He donned a pair of rubber gloves and a head-mounted light.

At the center of the room was an operating table where a couple of assistants were placing the sedated Mexican subject. The surrounding area was dark, but this lone spot was lit by a lamp hanging from the ceiling just above Pablo's torso. Yena wheeled in a cart containing all of the necessary tools, including a vial of liquid 115 for injection. Another assistant wheeled in a heart monitor, attaching it to Pablo to gauge his vital signs.

"Are you ready, Doctor Richtofen?"

Exhausted, Richtofen approached the table, saying with a touch of sarcasm, "More than ever, Harvey. Ensure the subject is properly sedated, we don't need a repeat of his last experiment."

The howling of the monkeys in the room had lessened. Richtofen watched as Yena searched for a vein with such delicate care and precision. Though Yena had not been told the specifics of today's test, he must sympathize with the fellow spy about to be dissected. Richtofen would soon enjoy watching him squirm. For the moment, he seemed blissfully unaware of what transpired at the asylum, as Richtofen intended.

After a few moments, Yena confirmed Pablo was ready for surgery, "He's under, Doctor."

"Perfect." Richtofen was quick to begin his work. He placed his hand on Pablo's bare chest, feeling for key organs. He pressed down on his lower belly, beneath the ribs, before marking the point of incision. He began cutting into the flesh with ease and finesse, well-practiced from his time in France. Listening for any fluctuations in the heart monitor, he began spreading the opening wider to confirm he was looking in the right place. He was, of course.

Yena muttered, "What is it you are-"

Richtofen maintained his search within the gash in Pablo's belly, replying, "Sh, sh, sh, shh… Begin the recording, Doctor Yena. I believe I've found it."

Harvey crouched down below the table, turning on the recording device on the second level of the nearby cart.

Richtofen outstretched his free hand, "Scalpel please, Doctor Yena."

Yena placed it in his hand, "Scalpel, Doctor Richtofen."

Doctor Richtofen cut further into the opening, exposing Pablo's stomach and a portion of his ribcage.

"What exactly are you looking for, Doctor Richtofen?"

Seeing no further need to maintain secrecy, Richtofen told him his goal, "We are attempting to locate an appropriate stimuli that will trigger the brain's involuntary willingness to obey command."

Richtofen spotted it: Pablo's spleen. He once posited that the spleen may be preventing the 115 in the subject's blood from affecting the brain in the intended manner. The injection of 115 directly into his spleen may yield a more cooperative and docile soldier not only within the Super Soldat Program, but perhaps in the Undead Army as well.

Richtofen pulled back the flesh covering the organ, "Ah, there we are. Forceps, Doctor Yena, if you please."

Yena placed the forceps in Richtofen's outstretched hand, "Forceps, Doctor Richtofen. But… the liver and kidneys? Or… the spleen?"

It was painfully obvious now that Yena was fishing for more information to send back to his superiors. Richtofen gave him a vague explanation to placate him, "Our goal is to unlock the barrier to the human mind... With Element 115 it is important that we explore every possibility. The barrier may be where we least expect it."

Edward pulled the spleen through the opening slightly using the forceps, "There we are. Retractors, please."

Yena handed him the tool, "Retractors. … It seems the Chancellor has been pushing us harder these last days. Is this because of the spy that was discovered? At the asylum?"

Richtofen continued carefully pulling the spleen aside, while opening the gap further so the veins connecting the spleen to the stomach were exposed. It seems news has finally travelled to Siberia about Peter's capture. Yena did not seem aware of Richtofen's involvement, at least, so Richtofen maintained his calm composure, focusing on his comment about Chancellor Steinbauer.

"I do not know, Doctor Yena. Our German leader, along with Doctor Maxis, is so... limited in his thinking. His goals are... simple-minded. Childish." Richtofen then decided to test Yena to cause a reaction, "He keeps pushing for his Undead Army... when he could have the Elemental Shard… "

Harvey's eyes lit up, and like a curious child, he asked, "The Elemental Shard?"

Richtofen pushed further, looking back into his eyes, "A device capable of endless energy... We could use it to craft anything; Including an Agarthan Device of immense power." The seed now planted, Richtofen awaited what would grow, "Hold this open while I grab the injector."

Yena gripped the forceps and retractors holding the spleen just out of the incision as he pried for more information, "Agarthan Device? Why haven't I heard about this?"

Doctor Yena's hand began to waver as he leaned over Pablo's body intently. Richtofen took notice, "Doctor Yena, do you have a firm grip? You're shaking…" Edward grinned, satisfied in his toying with Harvey.

Yena straightened out, taking firm grip of both the forceps holding the spleen out of the way and the retractors keeping the incision open, "I'm ready. Please, proceed."

Richtofen pushed the spleen aside, further straining Yena. He slowly inserted the large needle with liquid 115 into the opening, "Injecting serum in three… two… one."

115 began to siphon through the needle into the vein, causing Pablo's heart-rate to increase at a rapid pace. Yena's hands began to waver and sweat as he struggled to hold the incision open.

Now focused on the test, Richtofen ordered Yena, "Hold it open. The injection is nearly complete."

Yena let out a gasp of air as he struggled to keep the spleen in place. Still, Pablo's heart rate increased. "I can't… hold this… grip… "

Doctor Yena let go of the retractors, causing the incision to close, and his grip on the spleen caused the vein to burst, spraying blood like a fountain as the organ popped out of Pablo's chest, careened through the air, and flopped onto the concrete floor. The heart monitor flat-lined as Pablo's heart stopped beating.

Richtofen placed his palm on his blood-soaked face in disbelief, "Well, I guess the barrier isn't in his spleen." Now unable to control his frustration, he put his red finger in Yena's face, "Nincompoop! You did this, I knew it! You let go on purpose!"

The sweating, filthy liar quivered, pointing to the loose organ on the ground, then to the husk it once occupied, "Richtofen, it was an accident! My- My hand slipped!"

"Dummkopf!" Richtofen struggled to contain his rage, tossing the bloody gloves at the wall, and placing his hands onto a nearby table. He could hear Yena nervously fiddling with the recording device, and attempting to clean the mess he had made.

Richtofen pointed to the door, "Leave! You'll only make it worse! Gah, good-for-nothing American apple pie brain... " Richtofen pounded on the table, prompting Yena to quickly disembark out the door without another word of guidance needed. Richtofen then followed, shouting out towards Yena as he left, "Und don't forget to make Samantha's lunch, if you can handle that!" He slammed the door shut, pacing around the room, trying to ignore the rows of caged monkeys now unrested.

Soon after, Frederick opened the door, glancing at the remains of the Mexican subject and the bloody radius around him, before asking Richtofen flatly, "Should I find the cleaning crew?"

Richtofen waved his hand, "You can dump the body in the river later! Now leave me alone!"

As instructed, Frederick left without a word.

The voices in Edward's head became restless, asking him to do unsightly things to Harvey for his treachery. His mind soon eased as he remembered the plan. Stick to the plan, and everything will be okay.

Edward paced, kicking his feet as he mulled over the failure and the need for a replacement subject. This time, he needed someone stronger. Someone willing to obey.

Checking the time, he realized it was nearly lunch hour. Richtofen pulled a chair over to a desk, activating a radio resting on top to record a new log entry. He would have to yell over the screeching monkeys in order for his voice to be heard.

"Log Entry: 1471. Date: September 2nd, 1945. Dear diary, another day, another failure. This time, subject N3WB just stared blankly at the floor. The Russian subject still smells like urine, even after he was given a bath und deloused twice! And I think I might have killed the specimen from Mexico. His spleen is on the floor and he's not moving anymore. I can verify with certainty, however, that the barrier is not located in the spleen. Doctor Maxis says we must continue no matter the cost. I wonder what he might think of the experiments on the little... girl." Edward began to cackle with glee. His jubilation was interrupted as he noticed a loose monkey from one of the cages reaching for the spleen on the floor.

"Nein! Drop that!" The monkey screeched as his fellow primates cheered him on, and he began to run towards the door. Richtofen jolted from his seat, grabbing hold of the monkey as it attempted to pull the door open. "That's my spleen! Mine!" He pried the spleen from the monkey's hands, as it climbed onto Richtofen's shoulders. The monkey pulled the hat off of his head, as as Richtofen struggled to throw him off, he accidentally slammed his head into a wall-mounted cabinet, sending him to the hard floor. The monkey leapt off, disembarking towards an open vent shaft near the ceiling. Richtofen was too defeated to chase it down, simply lying on the floor as his head spun.

He felt a tenderness in his forehead where he impacted the cabinet, and slowly rose up to his feet, the severed spleen in his bare hands. He passed a menacing glance at the delighted gathering of monkeys.

He approached the rolling cart, tossing the spleen onto the metal pan. As he attempted to ease the pain in his head, he noticed something incredibly peculiar about the spleen: It was marked with some kind of symbol, which was burned into the underside. Richtofen inspected it more closely, now shocked to realize that it was a symbol he recognized; One he had seen on statues and paintings throughout Der Eisendrache. This was where Pablo had been captured, but who could have burned this sigil into his spleen, of all places, and to what end? His body showed no signs of a past surgery. Richtofen's sour mood had dissipated, and he was eager to explore the implications of this symbol's reappearance. The spleen would need to be preserved for further study. He prepared to call for an assistant to place the organ in stasis, as he heard a little German girl's voice faintly through the back door of the lab.

"My dad says he has a plan."

Richtofen marched towards the door, "Samantha?!" He opened the double doors into the decontamination room, "Yena was supposed to prepare your lunch. Is this some sort of game?" The room was completely empty. Richtofen climbed up three steps, passed a laundry machine, and entered the reception area. He could still hear faintly, coming from outside the front doors, "I promise I will keep you safe. Just like my mother taught me."

"What are you doing out in the cold? If you get sick again, I-" Richtofen pulled the doors open, again, revealing no one. He had had nearly enough of this charade, when he saw a sudden burst of light come from the skies, just past the base's lighthouse. From this burst of light came a plane, too far away to make out clearly. There was smoke coming from the engine, as it veered side-to-side erratically. As it descended, it turned towards the base. Richtofen could now make out its shape more clearly: It was a red bi-plane with a single pilot, and on its wings was the German Iron Cross.

Richtofen was stunned, and stared intently as the plane impacted the mountainside which held the facility. He could see smoke rising up from near the base of the mountain where the remains had fallen, and he could hear German soldiers stationed at the base approaching the crash site.

Edward treaded across the cold, icy dirt near the river below, venturing towards the base of the mountain where a crowd had gathered around the wreckage.

Among the crowd was Doctor Yena, who stuttered as Richtofen approached, "Uh, Doctor Richtofen! Your- your head... I- Samantha, she's in the cafeteria now. No problems, I will-" Richtofen pushed him aside, entering the heart of the group.

Two surly soldiers lifted the body of the pilot, dropping the lifeless corpse to the ground to inspect it; Richtofen could not believe what he was seeing. The pilot's uniform, his old-fashioned plane, his jacket: They all suggested he was a member of the German air force of World War I. Why here? Why now?

The crowd murmured, completely dumbfounded by the revelation. Richtofen, however, thought of the Reporter's words about a multiverse. Edward began trying to connect what had transpired to his own further research. It soon dawned on him that the pilot could not be of this time; Indeed, he had time-traveled. Perhaps he was not even of this place... this dimension...

From within his head, the Shadowman said, "Now you're beginning to understand."

Emergency Protocol List Addendum: Urgent

BURN AFTER READING

Doctor Richtofen has ordered an addendum to Group 935's security policies within our coalition. These secret protocols should be read by no one else but recipients of this telegram. Recipients must commit them to memory and promptly burn this message to avoid leaks. When these protocols are commenced, task leaders may dispense orders to fulfill the commands.

The additional protocols are as follows:

Protocol 85: Cutting of all phone lines and destruction of any device capable of transmission into or out of the testing site.

Protocol 86: Removal of all Die Spinne representatives and soldiers present on-site, and destruction of evidence implicating their involvement in Group 935 operations.

Protocol 87: Removal of all Division 9 staff present on-site, and destruction of evidence implicating their involvement in Group 935 operations.

Protocol 88: Evacuation of crucial test subjects to the Verrückt Facility in the event of an emergency.

Protocol 88a: Evacuation of crucial test subjects to Griffin Station by any means necessary in the event that the Verrückt Facility is unreachable.

Protocol 89: Evacuation of essential staff, followed by complete destruction of all on-site matter transference devices.

Protocol 90: Destruction of all non-reanimated subjects on-site, and destruction of evidence implicating Group 935 in their destruction.

Protocol 91: Replacement of all food dispensaries with lower-calorie selections. Details to come.

Protocol 115: Release of all reanimated subjects followed by evacuation of all essential staff from the testing site.

Protocol 935: The complete removal of Doctor Maxis and his associates from a position of power within Group 935 by any means necessary.

Chapter 37: Vendetta

Wittenau Sanatorium ("Verrückt Facility"), Berlin, Germany

Agent Peter McCain

September 3rd, 1945

For reasons Peter could not yet understand, Division 9 was keeping him alive. He had been confined to a cramped closet for the past two days, brought out only for questioning followed by beatings when he did not provide answers. Surely by now, he should have outlived his usefulness. Some part of Peter hoped that with Japan's surrender, the United States may be forcing them to give him up. But another part of Peter told him these monsters would never allow him to leave this place.

He could not force himself to sleep the past two nights due to a combination of the constant racket outside, his desire to escape, the horrid smell of his own filth, and strange noises heard throughout the night. When the day ended and everything was quiet, Peter swore he heard the sound of a little girl sobbing, and a man shouting to close the windows. In the dead of night he heard the sound of a lullaby being sung by a little girl. Though he was not superstitious, Peter felt an indescribable evil coming from the Asylum which shook him to his core.

Several hours into the workday, Peter could hear the Division 9 scientists arguing with the Germans just outside the closet. After a moment of silence, light leaked in through the doorway. Peter's body tensed up, knowing what would come next as he spotted Doctor Yoshimura.

"Kare O Tsukamu!" He instructed his assistants to lift Peter up by his arms. Peter saw no reason to fight back just yet. Group 935 scientists and orderlies of the asylum watched on as the battered American was dragged through the halls. A patient of the asylum bound by rope to a wheelchair passed a knowing glance to him as he was brought into the next room. Peter was tossed onto a dentist's chair and immediately restrained at his wrists.

Doctor Yoshimura smiled, his eyes those of someone who more than enjoys the suffering of others, but loves it. Craves it. He had orchestrated Peter's torture the past few sessions, but today, Doctor Okitsu was seen in the corner of the room, observing with his depthless gaze. While Yoshimura's intent was clear, Okitsu's was far less so.

A crowd of Division 9 staff had gathered in the room, awaiting Okitsu's instructions. Doctor Okitsu paced over to the door leading out into the hallway, glancing from side to side, before shutting the door.

Peter tested his restraints covertly, making sure not to draw any attention to his attempts. He noticed the strap around his right wrist was loose; Perhaps with time he could wiggle free from it. Time he may not have. He did nothing, waiting for the right opportunity.

Okitsu turned a dial on a table-top radio, before turning his attention to Peter. Peter could hardly bear to look him in his dead eyes.

"This morning, American, you received a transmission from your handler. Would you mind if I played this transmission for everyone to hear?"

Peter glanced around at the crowd of scientists, all wearing the insignia of Division 9 and Unit 731 on their lab coats. They all seemed to be unaware of their purpose in the lab, just like Peter. He worked up the courage to respond, "Don't have much of a choice, do I?"

Doctor Yoshimura quickly grabbed a pair of forceps, pulled Peter's jaws apart, and clamped the tool around one of his upper front teeth. "You are not as smart as you think you are, American… You will listen to Doctor Okitsu or I will do what is necessary to silence you… "

Okitsu shot Yoshimura a glance, one he seemed to know well, and his grip eased as he released Peter's jaw. Peter did not want to provoke Doctor Yoshimura again.

Okitsu played back a recording of a transmission from Cornelius Pernell, "We've received your transmission, Peter; Doctor Richtofen is making one hell of an offer. Command has agreed to meet his terms, and they should be corresponding with him shortly. We received word from another agent that he has returned to Siberia, despite your claim that he was in your custody at Verrückt. Please provide an update, or I'll have to assume something has gone wrong at the Asylum. I understand that Group 935 is losing control of their subjects, but you need to remain there until further notice. With-" The radio began to play a screeching static, before returning to normal, "-now changed. I repeat: The mission has changed. The Asylum must be contained and its work preserved. We've managed to wrestle control of the Rising Sun Facility with help from the Japanese government, but the Asylum is currently a no-go. But if I don't receive word from you soon, I'm authorizing an Op to contain the Asylum and get you out of there. I'm holding out hope for you, Peter."

The scientists were murmuring amongst themselves, clearly caught by surprise at hearing that the Rising Sun Facility had been lost. Yoshimura seemed the most disturbed, "Doctor Okitsu, if they've taken Shi No Numa… Surely they haven't found… Dorangen-"

Okitsu barked, "Quiet, you fool!" Yoshimura acquiesced.

A scientist from the larger group asked aloud, "What is this deal they speak of? What has Doctor Richtofen done?!"

Another spoke up, "Group 935 wishes to destroy us by aligning themselves with our enemy!"

Okitsu raised his hand to silence them, "We are in a precarious position, gentlemen. Even our 'beloved Emperor' has betrayed us. Even as our enemies grow in number and strength, we will prevail. We must preserve our work and our lives. Gather what you can without arousing suspicion from the Germans or the orderlies. We are leaving the Asylum for The Fortress." As instructed, the scientists shuffled out of the room, dispersing through the halls, leaving only Okitsu, Yoshimura, and Peter.

Okitsu leaned over Peter, "Well done, American. You've destroyed the Germans' resolve. They've given up. But I have no intention of surrendering."

Okitsu paced towards the door, leaving Yoshimura with a final instruction, "Enjoy yourself, Doctor… then clean up what is left."

"Yes… Doctor." Yoshimura peered into Peter's frightened eyes, searching for his deepest fears.

As the door closed, Yoshimura was quick to remove a set of dentists' tools from a box on the nearby cart, setting them on the cart an equal distance apart like a child laying out his favorite toys. His hand hovered over each one, and he would glance at Peter's reaction each time, as if searching for just the right tool.

"Do you want to know something interesting about your teeth, American?"

Peter had a feeling Yoshimura did not want a response.

He continued, "They are very similar to your bones. Just as strong, and just as permanent. After death, our bodies decay, but what is left? Your bones and your teeth."

Peter began to wiggle his right hand through the restraint while the Doctor looked away. He kept at it until it was free, then rested it at his side.

"When your body is cremated, it can no longer be identified as you. It is only ash. Except, in some cases… your teeth still remain. The only remnant of you that is left."

Yoshimura placed a large spool of wire onto the cart, pulling some of the wire and attaching it to Peter's chest, adhering it to his bare skin with a bandage.

"First, American, you will forget who you are. You will look in the mirror, and see a stranger. You will be so stupid, you cannot speak. There will be nothing left of you inside your mind."

Yoshimura turned on the overhead light above the chair, and raised Peter up so they were now eye-to-eye. He pulled out more cord, long enough to reach the power box fixed to the wall. He turned away, approaching the box and attaching the other end of the coil.

While he was turned away, Peter quickly reached over, grabbed the thickest, sharpest tool he could, and returned his arm to his side.

"I will remove each tooth, one by one. I will bury them, toss them in the river, feed them to the subjects, it does not matter. They will be gone. Then you will burn, and there will be nothing left of you."

Yoshimura approached closer as Peter's heart raced. He gripped the tool tightly, ready for the moment to attack.

There was a sudden shockwave that shook the building, flickering the overhead lamp. Outside the window, Peter could see Russian bombers flying overhead, now turning for another run.

"Roshia No Buta…"

Outside the room was a clamor of shouting and running, followed by screams of pain and repeated gunshots. Then there was the clear howling and shrieking of the Untoten.

Peter and Yoshimura both stared at the door, stunned. Then there was the banging of fists wood, which grew louder and louder. Yoshimura eked backwards, terrified, but closer and closer to the chair.

Now close enough, Peter swung his free hand in an arc, jamming the tool into Yoshimura's eye. The Doctor jolted back in pain, slamming his head into the wall, spraying blood on Peter as his head swiveled. He was still conscious, bellowing in agony and terror. Peter promptly reached for the other leather strap, loosening it. He leapt off the chair, taking cover behind it.

The door toppled over with a bang, and a single Untoten stood in the doorway. It let out a shriek before pouncing onto the screaming Doctor. Peter wasted no time in leaving the room as more broke through the exterior windows of the Asylum.

In the crematorium, Peter watched as a duo of German soldiers gunned down a horde of Untoten, before turning their attention on a panicked Division 9 scientist traversing the halls. With no hesitation they gunned him down and left through a set of double doors. Peter followed behind, being sure he had not been seen by any living or damned.

They passed by the same set of laboratories blown up the day Peter arrived, gunning down another Division 9 scientist and two living Asylum patients, one of which being the poor chair-bound patient he had seen before. Over a handheld radio, their German commanding officer called for them, and they walked out into the central courtyard. The hallway now clear, Peter sprinted through, stopping in the cramped room he had held Doctor Richtofen in. Just as they had left it, in the corner of the room was his single-shot FP-45 pistol. In such a target-rich environment, his one shot would need to count.

He glanced side to side, pushing his fears deep inside, and ran up the stairs to his left, before ascending another set of stairs and arriving at the second floor. He could see through the windows overlooking the courtyard and towards the other side of the Asylum that the chaos was focused at the other side, with soldiers, scientists, orderlies, patients, and undead caught in a horrific struggle to survive.

Peter passed through the tiny patients' quarters, where a Speed Cola Perk-a-Cola machine was standing. He turned left into the kitchen, where a hanging pig carcass was in the middle of being cut. Out onto the walkway, and into the power room, Peter now knew the offices containing the Asylum's research were just below.

He descended a small staircase, peering around the corner into the office and storage area, finding it to be deadly silent. His pistol raised, he entered, searching a nearby desk with the nameplate 'Luther Lenné, PhD.' On it was an inventory sheet of everything contained in the storage containers.

Peter located his belongings which arrived on the military convoy at his arrival. He had his Marine uniform, a map of Germany, a compass, and other tools to help him navigate his way out of here. He then searched the filing cabinets for the crucial research he needed: Reanimation, cloning, and weapons. He shoved them all into the bag, brandishing his weapon when he heard another explosion and more screaming from outside. Verrückt would soon be lost.

Before he left, something stopped Peter: A gut feeling telling him to leave behind the research to burn with this place. No good can come of this, even in American hands. They would make a deal with Edward Richtofen, a mad man. They haven't seen firsthand what he is capable of. Is this what Peter has put his life on the line for? To bring his worst enemy into his own home?

The mission must continue, no matter what. Peter grabbed a handheld radio, tuning it to a frequency to pick up OSS transmissions, and placed it in the bag. He ascended the stairs into the power room, finding another moral dilemma.

Through a window to the right of the power switch, Peter could see an entire group of Asylum patients cowering, defenseless on the catwalk. They were trapped by undead ascending a set of stairs from the courtyard, and the doorways leading back to the Asylum blocked by a wall of electricity emanating from the Electro-shock Defense System. They faced death either at the grip of cannibalistic monsters, or 200k amps of electricity.

Peter did what he had to do. He reached for the power switch with his left hand, pulling it into the off position, deactivating the system.

Peter then felt a rushing heatwave pass in front of his body as a green beam of light pierced through his elbow, and he detached from the now severed arm which was still tightly gripping the switch handle.

The pain was delayed, but Peter was quick to assess the source of the attack: Doctor Okitsu stood near the open doorway, a small, silver device in his hand of a similar design to the Ray Gun series. Peter was swift in firing his FP-45 from the hip, firing his single shot into the right side of Okitsu's head, sending him limply to the ground.

As the intense pain of his missing limb finally materialized, Peter fell to the floor in agony, muffling a scream as to not draw further attention his way. He rolled onto his back, peering at the wound at his elbow. It had been cauterized by the weapon's ray, preventing much blood loss, but the pain was nearly unbearable. Peter took a knife and cut a portion from his belt, tying it around the end of the stump. He lied there for a moment, but kept himself from falling out of consciousness as he remembered the mission.

He rose to his feet one leg at a time, and hobbled over to Okitsu's still body. He pulled the experimental weapon from his hands, and hobbled over to a doorway leading outside.

Peter descended a set of stairs, peering around the corner towards a fountain and a lone German military truck. The chaos was still ongoing inside the building, so Peter was quick to seize the opportunity. The Russian bomber planes whizzed overhead once again, destroying a section of the Asylum as Peter dove into the tarp-covered truck bed. Peter crawled along the bed towards the cabin, peering inside.

Before him was the mangled corpse of a German officer in the driver's seat, and a zombie leaning over, gnawing on his neck from the passenger's seat. Peter fell backwards in shock as the zombie caught him snooping, and it crawled its way through the port, into the truck bed. Peter was quick to blast it in the chest and head with three pulls of the trigger. The hot plasma pierced the tarp above, and the Untoten toppled to Peter's side.

Peter almost wanted to take a nap, but there was still work to be done.

He crawled into the cabin, digging through the officer's pockets to find the truck keys. He then opened the door and shoved the corpse out onto the dirt floor.

"Sorry, buddy. I need it more than you do."

Peter ignited the engine, and slammed on the gas, passing by several soldiers running for their lives from the courtyard, trying to flag down the truck. Peter maintained his speed, slamming into the iron gates of the Asylum adorned with the numbers 9-3-5. He followed the dirt path, passing by empty German tanks and burning homes, before driving the truck deep into the trees, as far away from the Asylum as possible. He was alive, but for how much longer?

Chapter 38: Verrückt

Approaching Wittenau Sanatorium ("Verrückt Facility"), Berlin, Germany

Cpl. "Tank" Dempsey and LCpl John "Banana"

September 6th, 1945

"I was a handler. First for the OSS, then the CIA. I oversaw ops and I sent in men to die."

- Cornelius Pernell

It would not be much longer before "Tank" Dempsey and his unit arrived at Peter McCain's last known location. They parachuted in the dead of night about a mile away from Group 935's Asylum Facility, planning today's mission within an abandoned house nearby. Though they knew the area had been evacuated prior to Allied bombings, it chilled Dempsey and his men that they had not seen a single living civilian since their landing.

Reconnaissance planes showed that much of the German military presence at the facility had all but disappeared, with only remains of tanks presumably destroyed in the bombings and a few transport trucks. Dempsey's handler, Cornelius Pernell, believed that the facility had been abandoned following some kind of outbreak. While their purpose had been originally to extract the OSS spy, Peter McCain, the mission had changed to ensuring the Asylum is contained. Because of this, Dempsey and his squadmates were armed with rifles, handguns, and grenades. If that is not enough, then they will need to get in contact with Command and call for backup. Once contained, Verrückt will become a base of operations and research like the Rising Sun Facility. This will need to be done before the Russians can take it for themselves.

Though the mission had changed, Dempsey's first priority would be recovering the lost spy. Before setting out towards the Asylum, Dempsey had finally worked up the courage to read a note left to him by Peter shortly before he went undercover. He kept the note folded up in his breast pocket for good luck. Despite his orders, Dempsey decided that he would not leave Germany without Peter.

The four men marched onward over the dirt road, weighed down by their equipment and the fear in their hearts. But, they did not complain; Not with the Corporal in earshot.

The oldest member of the unit besides Dempsey, John "Banana," asked, "You think McCain knows about the new objective?"

Dempsey replied, an M1897 shotgun in hands, "Pernell says he never heard back from him after the orders were given. It's possible he doesn't know, but I know he won't do anything to jeopardize the mission. He knows exactly who we're up against."

From the back, "Smokey" shared his anxieties, "Sure would help if we knew what we're up against… "

"Banana" passed a sharp glance back at "Smokey," "We're working with all we've got, Smokey. Command gave us all they could."

"I'm just sayin'. If we're fighting zombies… we might need more firepower."

"They're just stumbling corpses that can't even think. There's nothing to worry about, right, Tank?" John seemed unsure of himself, as if looking to Dempsey for some reassurance that they would be okay.

"I suggest we can all this bellyaching. We'll find out more soon, whether we like it or not. Just stay sharp like I told you, and don't panic, Smokey."

Doing as they were told, Banana and Smokey stayed quiet, following close behind as the Asylum came into view just up the road. They had seen a cloud of smoke emanating from the building some time ago, and it seems some parts of the building are still burning even now. Dempsey did not say it to maintain morale, but he knew that if the facility was still operational, the fires left behind by the bombings would have been put out long ago. Something has gone terribly wrong.

Paxton "Gunner" Ridge passed "Banana," walking beside Dempsey, the M1918 gripped firmly in his hands. "If you ask me, I think McCain joined up with the escaping Germans and saved his own skin."

The remark provoked Dempsey, but he kept his cool, "Funny thing, Gunner, because I didn't ask you. Let's save the speculation for when the mission is done."

"I'm just trying to cheer you up, Tank. I know you cared about the guy."

Dempsey paused to mull it over, "Like a brother. But he's a Marine, just like us. He'll complete the mission no matter the cost."

"I hope you're right. But I guess I'm just a realist."

"Quiet… we're here." Dempsey motioned to the others to slow down and keep quiet.

They crouched and quietly walked towards the front gates of the facility, which had been knocked off their hinges and now lay broken and twisted on the ground. Dempsey peered around the corner, catching a glimpse of the courtyard in the center of the Asylum. To the left were two German transport trucks, neither with a driver nor a passenger, and both with bullet holes in the windows and cabin doors. Still no sign of anyone living.

Dempsey led the squad forward under an overpass and into the courtyard. Again, there seemed to be no indication of life. Dempsey decided to get his men out of the open sightlines of the courtyard, ordering them into the Asylum. He split the unit into groups of two; "Banana" and "Smokey" moving further ahead and vaulting through the busted windows into the Asylum, while "Gunner" and Dempsey vaulted through the windows to their immediate right.

Dempsey's feet hit the tile, and an awful stench overcame him; Like rotting flesh left out in the sun. As he regained his bearings, he noticed he was inside a small office, the desk drawers all open, and the door leading into the hallway completely missing. He moved forward with "Gunner" behind him. Just like the door to the office, the doors of two other rooms had been completely torn off their hinges.

"Tank" kept his trench gun raised, exploring the two rooms. One was more open with a wooden floor and some kind of tall, red and white machine up against the tan-colored walls. On the front face of the machine it read "Jugger-Nog" in red letters. The bubbly font contrasted the blood stains on the body of the machine, and the horrid smell of flesh and sulfur in the air. There were two bookshelves in the corner of the room, all the books strewn about on the ground, and the shelves themselves having been ripped out. The nearby window looking towards the dawning sky was partially obscured by the wooden shelves, now affixed by nails. There were blood stains all along the walls and on a nearby couch.

"Tank… check this out." Gunner grabbed Dempsey's attention, drawing him to the other room. In the center was a dentist's chair almost completely covered in dried blood, along with a set of tools resting on a cart.

"Jesus… " Dempsey could barely stand the stench any longer. He refocused his attention on checking in on his squadmates. He returned to the hallway, walking towards where he had sent Banana and Smokey, only to find the path blocked by a set of double doors. The doors had no handle to pull them open, and the doorframe was taller than the others seen so far. Dempsey peered through the glass windows at the top of the doors, into the adjacent hallway. He could see Banana and Gunner scanning the rooms for life.

"Tank… do you hear that?" Gunner tapped Dempsey's shoulder.

"Not now," In a hushed tone, he spoke through the door, "What do we see in there, boys?"

Gunner continued to mutter, "It sounds like… crying… "

John "Banana" approached the glass, "We haven't found anyone. No bodies or nothin'... just a whole lot of blood."

Dempsey nodded, "Keep looking. I think these doors are locked electronically… Is anything powered on over there?"

"Negative."

"Then let's fan out and regroup at the other side of the Asylum. Intel shows that's where the power generators should be. Just keep Smokey calm, alright? After we get there- "

"Corporal!" Gunner called out from behind Dempsey.

Tank turned to face Gunner, who was now staring at some kind of chalk drawing on the wall. "Was this here earlier, Paxton?"

"I don't think so, sir."

The drawing was clearly in the shape of some kind of rifle, and something about the bright, white outline allured Dempsey to approach it. Before he could say anything else, however, his attention was brought elsewhere.

Outside, in the courtyard, the sound of moaning and the shifting of dirt could be heard. Dempsey and Ridge approached one of the windows, looking out on the courtyard at the enemy.

Four figures in black and white SS Honor Guard uniforms rose up from the dirt, their eyes shining with a yellow glow. They all looked to the skies, bellowing out in unison. They then turned their gazes towards Dempsey's unit.

"Here they come!" Dempsey barked out, grabbing the attention of Banana and Smokey in the adjacent area. All four men checked their weapons and ammunition to ensure they were ready for what was to come.

Dempsey could hear more coming from outside the facility, now approaching the boarded up windows to their rear. From the other room, he could hear Banana yell out, "They're everywhere!"

Paxton rested his rifle on the windowsill, scanning the courtyard as more and more targets rose up from the dirt. "Shit!"

Banana ran up to the electronic doors, attempting to pry them open to no avail. He banged on the glass to grab Dempsey's attention, "We need to get these doors open!"

To his rear, Smokey was seen panicking, his M1 Garand waving around wildly. "Don't leave me!"

Dempsey's instinct kicked in, as he snapped back into reality, the fear in his heart nearly bubbling up to the surface. He glanced at the wall to the right of the door, now noticing there was a faded message written in white chalk, "POWER WILL REUNITE YOU." He felt a rush of pain swelling in his head, and images of a generator and power switch flashed through his mind. The pain quickly disappeared, and Dempsey assured the others, "Hang in there! We'll try to get the power on!"

Smokey called out from the other room, now taking aim at the window where a zombie was pulling at the boards, "Hurry it up, okay?!"

From the office, several undead began to vault through the window into the room. "Gunner" was quick to unload his BAR into the attackers, "They're everywhere!"

Dempsey sprinted towards a set of stairs leading up to the second floor, where the power generators would be located. Blocking the path was a large couch used as a barrier. Dempsey rested his trench gun up against the wall as Gunner defended the office, and he began pulling the couch aside to clear a path.

Now aside, Dempsey noticed a lone walker had broken through one of the windows and had its arms raised, attempting to grab at him. Tank was quick to retrieve his shotgun and blow a hole into the undead's chest, "Get out of my face!" It fell lifelessly to the ground, the light in its eyes fading with it.

Dempsey turned to Gunner, who was now reloading as the undead continued to pour in through the office. Dempsey entered the room, pumping his shotgun and taking aim at the multiple uniformed corpses piling in through the window. "I've got you, go!" He ordered Ridge to head up the stairs while holding back the growing horde.

Now reloaded, Gunner stood at the top of the stairs, "Keep moving!"

Dempsey sprinted up the first flight of stairs, then up another, loading more shells into his shotgun. He nearly ordered Gunner to continue ahead, when the wall beside the staircase began to crumble. Chunks of concrete fell to the floor as the hands of the undead punched through from an adjacent room. Dempsey fired into the gaps, attempting to hold them back. "They're coming through the walls!"

He could hear Gunner's BAR click as he ran out of bullets. Gunner yelled out, "Grenade, going in!" Then he pulled a grenade from his belt, yanked the pin with his teeth, and tossed it down the stairs into the office before running up to meet Dempsey. The explosion shook the building, and sent chunks of flesh up the stairwell as it silenced their moans.

Gunner walked out onto the catwalk overlooking the courtyard, reloaded his weapon, and began to fire downward as more undead rose up. A set of stairs from the courtyard leading up to the catwalk was now filled with zombies continuing to pursue them. Dempsey gutted two with his shotgun before his attention was drawn to the opposite catwalk where Banana and Smokey were now fighting for their lives.

As Gunner reached for his last magazine, he ran towards the doorway leading back inside, passing under a set of coils attached to a power box. He tripped over rubble, dropping his gun and ammo, and glanced around as the undead swept through the asylum from every entrance. "There's too many of them!"

With one hand on his shotgun, Dempsey pulled Gunner to his feet, barking, "Get up! Keep moving!" He fired two more shells down the hallway at an approaching corpse.

The horde was annihilated as Smokey, from across the Asylum, fired a rifle grenade towards the catwalk, sending the remaining dismembered zombies tumbling the ground as the floor collapsed underneath them. This gave Dempsey and Gunner enough time to search for the power generator.

"Nice shot, Smokey!"

"Yeah, but now we're FUCKED!" Smokey's M1 ejected an empty clip as he scrambled for another.

"Hang in there, Smokey, we're gonna make it! We have to make it!" John "Banana" unloaded his Thompson into a trio of undead ripping at the boards of a nearby window.

"The Corporal's not gonna make it!"

"Come on, Smokey, keep firing!"

The two men held off undead one at a time, but their numbers were increasing along with their speed. Some had started to run, even pouncing like animals. Their numbers were too great to advance further towards the power room, and the duo was now trapped on the catwalk with no escape but the floor below, where undead had gathered, attempting to leap up to them.

"You've gotta kill me, John! You've gotta kill me before I become one of them!" Smokey began to weep, his aim wavering.

"We're not dying, Smokey! Not today!"

"What are we gonna do?! We're fucked, fucked, fucked!"

Smokey had collapsed into a fetal position, his M1 cast aside as the last clip was now emptied. He crawled backwards, placing himself up against the wall while Banana fought on with what little he had left.

He could now feel his supply diminishing, and with each zombie taken down, he could hear two more approaching. He could only be so conservative to get the job done.

He knew now that he had only a handful of bullets left, and contemplated just how to use them as he glanced over at the weeping man to his left.

"It's alright, Smokey… It's alright… "

An entire horde could be heard arriving from the floor below, bellowing out as they ascended the stairs. They would be impossible to face.

He lowered his weapon, muttering to himself, "He sent us to die… for nothing… "

The flood of Untoten came into view trampling over one another to reach them. Banana gripped his weapon, prepared to do what he must, when he heard a whirring sound from the walls of the Asylum. Lights through nearby windows began flickering, and above the doorway leading out onto the catwalk, a light bulb flickered, before glowing a bright green. The power switch attached to a set of coils hanging above the doorway lit up as well, and the coils began to rain down beams of bright electricity towards the concrete floor.

As the undead passed through the doorway, the electricity went through their bodies, cooking them from the inside out. Smoke billowed out from their eye sockets as their flesh was seared. The bodies began to pile up, almost forming a physical barrier, and the entire Asylum turned to a blissful silence.

Smokey had stopped weeping, his eyes wide and expression one of awe.

Banana stood up, looking over the courtyard at the bodies and rubble left behind by the attack. He nearly threw up at the sight of the charred corpses now sitting in the doorway, where the power box had deactivated, ready to be restarted with the flip of a switch. "Freakin' zombies… "

Smokey leaned his head up against the wall, "It's over… "

Banana shook his head, dropping his empty weapon, "No… It ain't over… This is just the beginning."

"We've got to regroup." Dempsey loaded his shotgun with more shells.

"With all due respect, Corporal, our mission is to contain the Asylum and ensure the research can be recovered."

"The mission has changed again, Gunner." Dempsey cocked the Trench Gun, "We need to stick together, look for signs of Agent McCain, and get the hell out of here so we can call for reinforcements."

"What makes you so sure we'll need them?"

Dempsey pushed past Gunner, peering through the windows towards the catwalk where John "Banana" and "Smokey" were last seen, "I'll pretend I didn't hear that. Take point. We're heading for their last known location."

"I'm sorry, sir, but that's not our mission." Gunner stood his ground.

Dempsey came face-to-face with Gunner, pointing a finger in his face, "I gave orders, and you'll follow them! I don't mind putting in a court-martial or two for your behavior."

"Pernell ordered me to ensure we stay focused, Corporal, and I intend to do that."

"You? Why'd he tell you and not-"

Down a set of stairs within the power room, Dempsey could hear the sounds of boots against concrete, growing louder and louder. Dempsey and Gunner took aim down the steps, expecting another wave of undead. Instead they were met with sub-machine gun rounds from living German SS soldiers. They took cover as bullets whizzed out of the room below.

"How the fuck are they still alive?!" Dempsey pressed his back against the concrete wall.

"They shouldn't be here… " Gunner seemed more troubled by the revelation than Dempsey was.

"Well they are! Get ready to-. Where are you going, Gunner?!"

Paxton sprinted back towards the showers where the duo had arrived from, turning left and disappearing from Dempsey's view.

"You son of a bitch! Fuck!"

Dempsey swiveled around, taking aim with his shotgun down the set of stairs and firing two shells before returning to cover.

Underneath the hail of gunfire, an electronic voice irritated Dempsey as he tried to think, a voice coming over a radio in the power room, "4 8 15 16 23 42." He glanced around the room, searching for something to help him. There was only a strange crate with question marks etched into the top, and the power switch, a severed hand gripping the lever.

Dempsey prepared to run and find his allies, when he heard more boots heading his way from that direction. Dempsey stood his ground, firing shells down the stairwell, as the Germans yelled out in frustration. A German rounded the corner from the catwalk, firing a rifle round towards Dempsey, piercing his shoulder. He grunted in pain, but kept his weapon raised, firing back towards the Germans. They continued advancing, as Dempsey held steadfast, his vision clouding from the pain. With no more shells, he pulled the handgun from his belt and took aim. His aim was off, and he was greatly outnumbered, but he held out as long as he could. With no more ammunition, he tossed the pistol aside, holding the shotgun like a bat, and taking a swing at a German officer rising from the staircase, bloodying his nose. Two more then came around the corner, tackling Dempsey to the ground and restraining him. The bloodied officer stood up, barking an order in German at one of his underlings, who slammed the butt of his rifle into Dempsey's face, knocking him out cold.

Dempsey's vision was foggy, as well as his consciousness due to some combination of head trauma, blood loss, and drugs in his system. He could only sense the jostling of his body in some kind of vehicle, as well as the sounds of men with German accents speaking to one another.

In English, one of the voices asked, "And did you carry out my orders?"

"Yes, Doctor. All the research we could find was burned along with the bodies. Though some was taken by the spy… "

"A failure I will be sure to note in my report to Doctor Richtofen. And what of the Division 9 scientists?"

"Many were destroyed, however… Doctor Okitsu managed to escape."

"Scheiße… Imbeciles… He will not be pleased to hear we still have loose ends… But perhaps our friend here will make up for your error… "

RE: Maxis Files

From: Dr. J. Robert Oppenheimer

To: Dr. Vannevar Bush

Date/Time: Monday, October 31, 1955

Subject: RE: Maxis Files

Dr. Bush,

Many of the recordings are garbled, but what I have managed to recover has shed some new light on the final days of Group 935. As time progresses chronologically, Dr. Ludwig Maxis' mind seems to deteriorate. I concur that he is a man ahead of his time, but also a man full of fear and anger. It is unfortunate that his legacy will be so tarnished by his choices in the war.

I've also found something you may find interesting since those "Banana" limericks tickled you so much. A letter was found in the archive, stored with the research recovered at Der Riese. The letter is for an estranged friend of the writer, forgiving him for some quarrel they had in the past. It was addressed to a US Marine named Dempsey. Wasn't there a Marine named Dempsey lost in the Verruckt outbreak? How did it end up at Der Riese?

I have attached a copy for your viewing and sent the original to Cornelius Pernell. I believe he oversaw that operation.

Oppy.

Dempsey,

It was nice catching up with you over drinks the other night. Just like old times, huh? Felt like no time had passed at all. As if we were still back home getting buzzed on a Saturday night. But I know it has been a while, and I know that's partially my fault. I should have tried to reach out before last night, you know?

I'm also sorry about Raines. Rook, Turner, and Hunter too. I know you talked a lot of shit, but I also know you respected the Hell out of the Sarge. What a rotten way to die. But, I'm gonna make it count. The Krauts won't know what hit 'em. After this, we're going home, and this time I'm buying us Blowtorches. Maybe we could even make it a regular thing. Our daughters are about the same age, right? Maybe we could even set up a playdate for them and catch up on some baseball. You still owe me for our last bet. The Giants won whether you like it or not.

Maybe you feel bad about the whole Phoebe thing, but forget about it. We were young and dumb. I might still be pretty dumb, but Basic toughened me up enough to put it all behind us. It's not worth losing a friend, and I like to think we're more than friends. We're like brothers.

I forgive you, brother. Semper Fi.

- Pete

Chapter 39: Last Disciple

Siberian Facility, near Tunguska

Dr. Edward Richtofen

September 20th, 1945

"A little learning is a dangerous thing; Drink deep or taste not the Pierian Spring."

- Alexander Pope

Doctor Richtofen was setting up the day's experiment, pleased with his continued successes this past year. He had managed to solidify his deals with both the Americans and the Russians, with each side now making preparations to meet their terms of agreement while awaiting the final call by Richtofen. At a moment's notice, Richtofen can give them the orders to take control of Group 935's facilities and topple its leadership. Before this can happen, however, there are still arrangements left unmade. Richtofen had waited his whole life to make history, and he could wait just a little bit longer. Historians will look back on 1945 not as the end of a bloody, pointless war, but as the beginning of a new peaceful era.

Doctor Groph's updates on the Moon Pyramid Device have been promising, and it seems that it will be possible to open the gateway very soon. Finally, Richtofen will see the Aether with his own eyes. By then, Maxis will be removed from his position, and the Allies will split up Group 935, effectively doubling their resources and influence across the world. If the plan is successful, Richtofen will then be in a position to spread the Aether's influence across the entire globe via Polarization Devices.

But, even the best-laid plans need a fallback in the worst-case scenario. For that reason, Richtofen has pursued an alternative means of reaching Agartha; A back door, so to speak. Richtofen had been once perplexed by the appearance of an American Western Town in Africa; However, after recent anomalies across Group 935 facilities, Richtofen now believed that time-space displacement was a factor in the town's shifting. The massive 115 deposit found near the site came from the town itself, and the journal of Jebediah Brown shed light on the events preceding its movement through space. The blacksmith claimed to have been visited by two angels who provided him with knowledge to create numerous things, including the first iteration of the Pack-a-Punch machine and instructions to forge the Agarthan Device.

Brown was a deeply religious man, and decided against pursuing the device due to its tempting powers. The creator's greatest wishes would be made true in an instant. It could literally alter the fabric of reality to meet any request. Brown did, however, follow the angels' orders, creating the first of three components: The Vril Vessel; The very object Richtofen had transported with him to Siberia, and the artifact which was nearly stolen by a strange man, apparently on the Shadowman's orders…

If Richtofen's plan fails, which it will not… The Agarthan Device will be the way through. The final two components necessary are the Elemental Shard, a rock of Element 115 combined with the life force of four humans, and the blood of an Elder God, something the Shadowman may be able to help him locate. Even without the complete Agarthan Device, the Elemental Shard could be used as a means of infinite power and effective immortality.

Today, Richtofen would attempt to create the Shard under the noses of other scientists in the facility. Though he so loved taunting Doctor Yena with his knowledge on the subject, he could not risk the Americans finding out how to assemble the Device before Richtofen could find the final component.

In through the laboratory door came Frederick, the newest test subject slung over his shoulder: An American named Dempsey. It was fortunate a subject highly resistant to 115's effects was discovered after Pablo's untimely death. Frederick tossed him onto a table near Richtofen. He had ordered the laboratory to be arranged around one central table, on it a slab taken from Der Eisendrache, and his three test subjects were comatose, lying flat on tables surrounding the slab.

"Well done, Frederick. See to it that my letters are delivered to the postmaster, und you may go to your quarters."

The burly assistant seemed confused, "You do not need me to- "

Richtofen approached him, reaching up to grab his cheek, shaking it as he spoke, "I need you to leave me be, Frederick! That is all."

He said nothing further, leaving the way he came in. Richtofen promptly locked the door, checking the time. A vast majority of the staff would now be in their quarters.

Edward dimmed the lights, approaching the stone slab on the table. It was rectangular and engraved with markings of unknown origin. What stands out most about the slab, however, is the indentation in the center. It looked like a small circle with two larger ovals protruding from the sides, and a sharper point at each end. It was found attached to a tomb within the underground section of the castle. While the scientists initially believed it to be ornamental, they later realized the indentation matched exactly an indentation on the MPD's interface panel. More surprising, these slots are the perfect fit for one of Jebediah Brown's creations.

According to his writings, the Vril Rod was ordered to be created by the "angels" using the same metal as the Vril Vessel. Though on the surface it appeared like brass painted gold, it was crafted using a type of metal of currently unknown origin. It resembles a mythological object in Hinduism known as a Vajra. The blacksmith was told that it could be used to transfer life force, or "soul energy," and it is an essential component in creating the Elemental Shard.

Richtofen reached underneath the table where a safe was being stored. He inputted the combination, and opened the safe to reveal the Vril Rod. He laid it down gracefully next to the slab.

Next, Edward stepped towards the door, looking outside to ensure he was not being watched. He pulled a key from his jacket pocket, opening a nearby closet full of equipment. Shoved towards the back of one of the shelves was an urn-like object with Apothicon engravings around the rim. This artifact was also recovered from the castle, and through testing on rats, it was discovered to have similar properties to the MPD's energy canisters, being able to store life force.

The artifact was placed on the table as well along with a small rock of Element 115 taken from the Tunguska meteor. Richtofen wringed his hands together in excitement, but also with anxiety. Though the voices in his head encouraged him and seemed to confirm the accuracy in his methods, it all seemed so… unscientific. Jebediah Brown's writings described what came next as a "ritual to curse one's self through the embracing of sin and vice." Richtofen chuckled at the quaint man's superstitions, but acknowledged there must be some truth in the knowledge bestowed to him by the Ancients. This would be like no experiment he had ever conducted in his life.

Without access to a fourth individual, Richtofen decided part of his own essence would be used to create the Shard along with his three test subjects. It seemed almost poetic, with his volunteering to take part in the first human teleportation six years ago. Progress requires risk, after all.

The next step in preparing the experiment was arranging each human soul alongside a ritual object; Something closely associated with the person, something that represents the wrongdoing in one's life. This very well could have been the barrier preventing Richtofen from using his three prisoner-of-war test subjects, however, he was able to pull some belongings from storage that were found on their bodies after they were captured. They would act as perfect ritual items.

The American subject, this "Tank" Dempsey, had a letter in his pocket from a former friend forgiving him for past transgressions; It was regarding some woman that each of them was attracted to. "Tank" may be guilty of lust and coveting another man's lady, and he became a soldier to escape the guilt. Coincidentally, that other man happened to be the one and only Peter McCain. Richtofen found the cruel irony that the two would never meet again as friends to be quite amusing.

The Japanese subject, Takeo Masaki, carried with him at all times his family's sword. According to Doctor Okitsu, Takeo was once the right hand of the Emperor of Japan. Such a fall from grace, it almost brought a tear to Richtofen's eye. Almost. As the Emperor's hand, his blade was used to execute enemies of the Empire and surrendering combatants during the war. His katana is stained with the blood of hundreds, perhaps thousands of souls.

The Russian subject, Nikolai Belinski, wrote in his journal tales of glorious victory and thoughts of chronic depravity and cruelty. He was a deeply troubled mind with a passion for Russian literature. As his journal progresses, his prose grows darker. Eventually he chooses only to write about those whom he kills, fellow Soviet or enemy German. There is no passion in these kills, only grotesque descriptions harboring no emotion. His final days consist only of ramblings, barely coherent, that describe events that are impossible and people that never existed.

The hardest item of all for Richtofen to locate was one for himself. Edward is a man that holds no regrets; There is nothing in the past worth changing, as it all inevitably leads him to his destiny. He eventually decided on his own diary, his one safe space from a world that does not appreciate him. There are many dark thoughts that may be construed as "sinful," but Richtofen knows that writing them down was necessary to maintain a clear mind.

Each of the items were placed next to the comatose bodies, with Richtofen's diary resting on the table next to him. The final step in preparing the ritual was placing specific Apothicon symbols on the central platform around the Vril Rod. Some of these symbols Richtofen recognized from his time studying their language, others he did not. He did not understand the importance of simply painting these symbols out onto the table, but he wanted to follow the instructions as closely as possible.

Richtofen turned the page in Brown's journal, beginning the ritual. He moved the Vril Rod close to the slab's surface, and it was quickly pulled into the slot as if it were magnetized. A spark of electricity flourished before dissipating. So far, so good.

"Nethurgast Net Zor'arkoth." Richtofen awkwardly spoke the alien language scrawled out on the page. He glanced around at the bodies, then to the ritual table. Nothing so far.

He spoke slowly, being sure to enunciate the strange sounds clearly, "Estnagor. Est-astool. Estamat. Estulla."

As he uttered the final phrase, he noticed that the symbols painted onto the table began to glow a bright, ruby red. The sigils then slowly rose into the air, leaving the painted version behind. They simply floated around the table, mesmerizing Richtofen. He tried to reach out and touch one, feeling a burning pain in his hand as he came too close. He decided to continue the ritual.

"Esthtuk estoom." He continued, "Shub-zaroom asteon."

More of the sigils began to rise, circling the platform at a more rapid pace. Inside the slab, the Vril Rod's center began to glow a similar shade of red. Richtofen began to sweat as the room's temperature rose. It was a heat like he had not experienced in his entire life.

He uttered the final words: "Arkeon. Kareon."

Four curved beams of bright blue light emanated from the Vril Rod, lodging themselves in the chests of all four bodies in the room. Richtofen was so shocked by the sensation he dropped the journal, falling back onto the table he was resting against. He began to feel weightless, flailing his arms around in a panic, a twinge of fear in his mind that he may have taken the experiment too far. The test subjects had also risen into the air, their eyes wide open, but their minds still unconscious.

One of the sigils drifted away from the center of the room, following the beam of light towards Richtofen. He could do nothing to fight back as the symbol came closer and closer into his face, the red light blinding his vision. For a moment he could feel only the heat, then, he felt nothing.

The world around him was black, but he could now walk on his feet. He felt an intense pain in his head that did not seem to go away. Here, the voices were completely silent. For once in a very long time, Richtofen felt lonely, and he savoured it.

He hypothesized: Could he still be in the lab, unconscious, in some kind of deep dream state? Is this another dimension? Some created realm of his imagination? … Could he have destroyed his own dimension?

Richtofen glanced around, disoriented. He searched for any sign of light. He focused his eyes in a single direction, noticing what looked like a brown dot. After pacing towards it a few steps, the dot grew larger, and appeared more rectangular. He soon recognized that it was a wooden door; Its paint was chipped and the handle removed. Edward jolted back as he realized there were a pair of tiny eyes above the door. His vision began to focus on the eyes, and he realized they belonged to a raven, whose silhouette was now completely visible, resting on top of the door.

Edward approached the door again, only for the raven to fly away and the door to fall, revealing some kind of room through the rectangular portal. He stepped into the room, glancing around at its features. Furniture was flipped over or completely destroyed, and there were holes in the walls leaking in moonlight from outside. He could hear a group of men talking in the other room.

"What are you gonna do, Tank?"

"We've got no choice, Smokey. You know what has to be done."

Richtofen peered into the other room, meeting eyes with one of the men, who stared blankly back at him. It was an American marine, who seemed almost to be looking through Edward. Richtofen walked further into the room, realizing that none of the men could see him.

"We could just let him go, he won't tell anybody anything. He was trying to run away!"

A third man chimed in, "We don't know that, Smokey."

The Marine he recognized as "Tank" Dempsey stood up, speaking to the other three men in the room, "The decision has been made. We can't risk him going back to the Asylum and exposing us. It could put Peter in danger."

The man known as "Smokey" sat silently, shaking his head and putting his head in his arms, while another comforted him.

Dempsey walked into another room, coming back momentarily with a man in a German military uniform, his eyes and mouth covered by a bandana, and his arms tied together with cloth. He struggled with Dempsey, trying to escape, muttering in German through the gag in his mouth.

The fourth man who had been staring in Richtofen's direction stood up, taking a pillow from an overturned couch in the corner, "There was no other option, Dempsey. Pernell gave us orders to-"

"Shut the fuck up, Gunner." Dempsey ripped the pillow from the man's hands.

Dempsey pushed the German captive towards the room that Richtofen had arrived from, shoving him to the ground. He shut his eyes, muttering something under his breath, before placing the pillow against the German's head and pushing his pistol into it, pulling the trigger. The German quit struggling, going limp.

Dempsey approached the two men sitting in what was once a living room, leaning over to say, "We've got a job to do. Let's get some shut-eye. We'll need to be ready for tomorrow's mission."

The floor below Richtofen gave way, and he tumbled downward into the black abyss. He landed on his chest, yet felt no pain. He rose to his feet once again, finding himself inside some sort of hangar. There were several British Royal Air Force planes and a group of British and Dutch pilots gathered near a doorway. They all seemed tense, chattering so much that Richtofen could barely understand them. Like before, they could not see him.

Suddenly, the nearby door swung open, pouring in light. Before the pilots could respond, a cloud of fire engulfed them. Those not instantly incinerated by the flames screamed in tortured agony, some trying to wipe away the substance coating and burning their flesh, others simply stumbling around, their brain in shock after all nerve endings fizzled out; But all eventually fell.

Through the doorway came Takeo Masaki, wielding the flamethrower which took these men by surprise. He stood over their charred corpses, mesmerized with a twinge of regret in his eyes. This seemed to fade as several Japanese paratroopers walked in after him, fanning out and exploring the hangar. Takeo barked some orders, before kneeling down in front of the bodies, shutting his eyes and uttering a proverb.

The paratroopers returned with prisoners of war, lining them up on their knees before Takeo. Takeo brandished his sword walking parallel to them, striking fear in their hearts. One by one, he killed them after they failed to answer his questions.

Again, the ground caved in, dropping Richtofen further into the blackness. He fell face-first into a deep layer of snow. Planes whizzed overhead, and Russian soldiers were shouting in a nearby foxhole. A whistle blow was given, and the entire platoon charged forward past hollow structures and rubble. From this distance, Richtofen could only hear the screams and the sound of machine gun fire.

Another platoon of soldiers soon filled the previous one's place in the foxhole, ordered by the commander with his whistle. Among them was Nikolai, his face stricken with fear and doubt. The commander looked on to the men he had ordered to charge ahead, as he noticed a single survivor returning towards their location, his leg badly wounded.

The commander barked an order towards the straggler, who did not respond. He issued a second order, but the soldier kept running back towards the foxhole.

The commander removed a handgun from his side, taking aim at the retreating Soviet. From the foxhole, Nikolai shouted to the commander, but he only responded with a pull of the trigger. The straggler went down quickly, his face planting into the thick snow.

In a blind rage, Nikolai leapt from the foxhole, his rifle's bayonet pointed directly towards the commander's belly. He planted the bayonet into the commander's body, sending him to the ground, the pistol tossed aside. Nikolai placed his entire body onto the commander's chest, pounding his fist into the commander's face, bloodying his own knuckles from the commander's teeth. After five swift punches, Nikolai pulled a knife from the commander's belt, plunging it into his heart. Again and again, without an end in sight. The commander was already dead, but Nikolai continued pulling the blade out of his chest, and sending it back in with all his strength. Five men from his own platoon had to pull his blood-soaked body away as he continued to scream.

Richtofen fell through the snowy void, tumbling for a final time onto a stone floor, one he recognized very intimately.

"You are a madman. I'm sorry, old friend, but Maxis will hear what you have done. Step back."

No. Not today. Not here.

Doctor Wagner walked past the frazzled and anxious Doctor Richtofen in the middle of the room, dialing a rotary phone and picking up the receiver.

Richtofen did not even stand up, knowing what would come next. He watched with a great pain in his chest as his past self removed the knife from its sheath and approached Wagner.

He grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling his body away from the phone. Richtofen could see the conflict, the sadness in his own eyes.

"Edward, what are you… No!"

The knife pierced Wagner's chest. He gasped, blood spurting from his lips and arms flailing, attempting to push Richtofen away. The two slowly descended, blood soaking the floor.

Edward watched on, his feelings not those which he expected. Though he could see the pain and anguish in his own eyes, now he felt differently. He found it almost… amusing. After so long, he could look back and see the choice was obvious. Wagner was nothing compared to what Richtofen would soon achieve. His death, this memory… It meant nothing. Richtofen began to giggle, transitioning into a full-on fit while his other self lay covered in blood just a few feet away.

His cackling echoed off the castle walls as they slowly began to fade away, revealing that Richtofen was now within the laboratory again. There was a heaviness in his chest, and he could barely stand on his own legs. He glanced around towards the test subjects, all lying still as they were before. On the central platform, the Vril Rod emitted a single burst of energy which flew into the air, before falling back down towards the urn placed nearby.

Richtofen hobbled over towards the urn, peering inside at the bright blue essence contained within.

For the final step in creating the Elemental Shard, Richtofen removed a drill from his tools, cutting a tiny hole into the 115 rock. He pulled the life essence into the injector, now a liquid-like substance, then carefully emptied it into the rock.

The blue ore of the rock shone brightly, and it soon began to float into the air. Richtofen stepped back, watching the process take place. The entire rock was compressed by the bright blue glow, so bright he could not look at it directly. With a flash of light, the heat returned, giving Richtofen a momentary burning sensation. All the glass in the room shattered, from scientific instruments to the windows. The light was blinding; Edward could see it through his eyelids despite keeping them closed.

Nearly a minute passed before the light began to dim, and Edward could finally gaze upon his creation. What was once a processed rock of 115 now appeared as a beautiful, blue shard of glass.

As Richtofen gazed into it, he saw light and darkness, the forces of good and evil fighting for the fate of the universe. All of time, many times, a menagerie of life and death, both constant and withering. The past, the present, the future, all existing at once. Whirlwind storms, hellish rings of fire. Souls asking to be freed, mirrors to step through. The Aether, in all its glory.

"Now, Edward, you finally see your potential. Power beyond your imagination. Your eternal reward awaits you."

Edward fell to his knees, "I know now what I must do."

Ниже приводится расшифровка записи журнала доктора Рихтофена 1474, обнаруженной в Сибирском объекте Группы 935. Переведите его и приведите доктора Ену на допрос. Похоже, у доктора Рихтофена были такие же подозрения, как и у вас.

Log Entry 1474. Date: September 20th, 1945. Dear diary, it would seem that the OSS realized that we have captured one of their spies. They tried to send a rescue team to Verrückt that was aw- [Static] the first batch of test subjects. [Laughing] [Muttering] I suspect there are others more in the organization. Dr. Harvey Yena and Dr. Peter McCain to be precise. Dr M- [Static] -nt any Americans in Group 935, no matter how much genius they have. Stupid Americans and their apple pies and baseball and children... But I digress. [Static] The new American test subject is interesting and muscle-y. His intellect seems low, but his will is strong. Like the others, he doesn't seem to know who he is anymore. Unlike the others, he keeps breaking the restraints and yelling at me. [Static] Test subject N3WB is still staring at the floor, muttering what sounds like some kind of proverb over and over again. I think his mind may have been destroyed by the process. Oh well. The Russian subject recently began responding to stimuli but only after injecting him with a new serum made primarily from vodka. Perhaps this is a breakthrough in the experiment we have been waiting for! Perhaps I was too harsh on Doctor Yena. It was he after all who suggested the vodka serum. Credit where credit is due! Today also marks a great success for one of mein side projects. Using a processed rock of Element 115 and the Vril Vessel, I was able to successfully siphon a piece of the souls from our three specimens and inject them into the rock. Without access to our fourth individual, I used part of mein own essence. Much to mein surprise, the rock grew and transformed, creating a beautiful shard of glass made purely from Element 115! ... And parts from four human souls. The Vril Vessel, the Elemental Shard! All we need now is the Apothicon Blood and the Agarthan Device shall be complete. End log entry 1474, or should I say, 1-4-7-4... doesn't matter.

Chapter 40: Will and Testament

Siberian Facility, near Tunguska

Dr. Edward Richtofen

September 24th, 1945

"Operation Shield must remain a secret... for now. I will inform the men when the time is right."

"Yes, Doctor Richtofen. And what shall we do until then?"

The live feed of Doctor Groph from Griffin Station filled with static for a moment before returning to normal.

"Ensure preparations are made to have the life force tanks of the MPD topped off. I believe the select few members of Division 9 in our care would make excellent volunteers… I assume members of the station have remained in the dark about the end of the war?"

"Ja, Doctor. I will follow Protocol 87 to the letter. How are the experiments in Siberia?"

Richtofen spun in circles in his chair, stopping for a moment to look back at a failed clone of the American subject, lifeless on the table. A mutation had caused it to develop two heads, only one having a brain, while the other dangled to the side. The head with the brain was covered in massive, protruding veins that stretched to the end of its right arm, and its face was locked in an expression of agony as it died screaming, just as it did for its entire lifespan.

"Uneventful. There will be more to share in the future, however, as for right now, I need you to maintain security on the station und be ready for Operation Shield to commence. Maxis will pay dearly, und our influence shall grow."

"Just as we've always discussed… I remember the day I told you of Maxis' conspiracy, and your disbelief that he was capable of such a betrayal. Ever since, I have remained loyal to our cause and stood by your side. We are-"

Richtofen continued to spin in his chair until he grew dizzy, then he interjected, "Yes, you always did have such a keen memory… By the way, Groph, how is Doctor Schuster?"

Groph paused for a moment, longer than the delay in transmission dictated, "Schuster has performed his work with tact und efficiency. He has spearheaded the Wave Gun project and made significant improvements to- "

"I don't mean a performance review, Doctor Groph. How is he… emotionally? You know how soft he can be."

"He has mostly kept to himself outside of research hours. Sometimes I catch him in the Biodome in some sort of fugue state."

Richtofen thought solemnly for a moment, positing, "Perhaps he is a bit homesick. Tell him… he will be coming home, very soon."

"I will do as you ask, Doctor. You know, I actually find myself quite fond of my position here, it's very-"

"Ja, ja, you're doing an excellent job, keep up the great work! Don't know what I would do without you! Eagle's Nest out."

Richtofen tapped the keypad, cutting the feed to the station and ending the conversation. He leaned back in his chair, shutting his eyes and placing his hands behind his head, pushing his cap forward to cover his face. A moment of peace, finally.

The reprieve came to an end quickly as he remembered the site staff meeting in just under half an hour. Richtofen adjusted his cap and uniform, rising to his feet to clean up the lab like the dutiful scientist he appeared to be.

He approached the unsightly body of the American clone, feeling playful for a moment. He took hold of the jaw of the useless, dangling second head, mimicking speech as he did his best impression of the American.

"Look at me, the big, stupid, dummkopf American. My name is Taaaaaank Dempsey und I have such big muscles und a chiseled chin. I'm so stupid that I forgot my own name, so they just call me my favorite armored assault vehicle. Hoo ray, hoo ray! I hate you, German, you evil Nazi son of a bitch!"

Richtofen chuckled to himself, tapping the lifeless face's cheek, "Oh, Dempsey, you're so much funnier when you're dead!" Richtofen looked over at the veiny, shocked face of the other head attached to the body, "Your brother, on the other hand, scares me."

Doctor Richtofen prepared a tarp to cover the body before it could be retrieved and disposed of, but as he hung the tarp above it, he had an idea.

He crouched below the table, pulling out a box with a keypad. He input a code, opening the box, and removing its contents. First he removed several Tesla bulbs used as ammunition for the Wunderwaffe DG-2, placing them gently on the long table nearby. Next he removed a smaller container made of a thick material meant to block out the radiation contained within 115. Even still, he could feel the heat coming through from what was inside: The Elemental Shard. Edward simply stared into the majestic, blue surface, before snapping to attention.

He placed the container on a nearby table and retrieved a large instrument meant for handling 115 without directly touching it.

Richtofen quickly set up the lab, accepting that he would be late for the meeting. He set up a defibrillator machine, a recording device, and a heart rate monitor. He attached conduits from the defibrillator to the Elemental Shard and attached the heart rate monitor to the lifeless test subject.

"Log Entry 1-4… Am I on 8 now, let me… Forget it! I'm much too excited! The subject is a recent clone of subject B00M, the American. It has surgical incisions along the abdomen made during an autopsy, and is confirmed to be deceased, myself as witness. I have attached conduits from a defibrillator to the Elemental Shard, and will attempt to revive the subject. Beginning test… now."

Richtofen charged up the machine, placing the paddles to the dead clone's chest. The subject's muscles spasmed like no other being he had attempted to revive. Yet, the monitor did not spike in activity and its eyes remained shut.

"Applying another shock in 3… 2… 1!"

Richtofen applied the paddles again, causing the whole body to jolt, yet again, it did not resuscitate the subject.

Running out of hope, he charged it up once again, "Trying again in 3… 2… 1!"

With nothing to lose, Richtofen placed the paddles to the subject's chest again, leaving them in place for longer than is typically advised, nearly ten seconds. He noticed that the Shard itself began to glow even brighter, filling the entire lab with its blue aura.

The massive incision in the subject's abdomen began to close and heal seemingly on its own accord, and the heart monitor began to beep continuously. The subject was alive.

"Ja… JA! I've done it! It's alive! It's- ACH!"

One of its hands had wrapped around Richtofen's neck, holding his windpipe closed in the process. Richtofen flailed around desperately, trying to pull himself away. The limp head began to blink its eyelids and turn its gaze to Richtofen, keeping a calm, blank expression. The head with the brain, on the other hand, swung side to side in terror, screaming a gut-wrenching wail just as it did in a previous life.

"Perhaps… ach, I… did not… think this experiment through… entirely!"

As it howled, with great strength it threw Richtofen at the wall, knocking the wind from his lungs as he fell to the floor.

The subject stood up, knocking all of the equipment on the table to the floor, including the recording device. It placed both of its hands on its screaming head as if in great pain, while the loose head swiveled around towards Richtofen.

Thinking quickly, Richtofen crawled around the corner of the longer table along the wall, out of sight. The ear-piercing screams of pain continued as it limped over towards the table.

Doctor Richtofen reached up onto the table, retrieving one of the Tesla bulbs for the DG-2. He rose to his feet, pulling back his arm and taking aim at the subject's center mass. He tossed the glass bulb into its chest, causing it to shatter, and the energy within to explode outwards in all directions.

Richtofen remained behind cover for a moment, pulling himself up to examine what remained of the subject. Where the bulb had been thrown was a massive, gaping wound where flesh once resided, and waves of electricity were still visibly surging along the subject's body from head to toe. The screams finally ended.

Relieved, the Doctor fell back to the floor, leaning up against the wall. He shook his head and found himself laughing at what had just transpired.

Outside, he heard the shuffling of feet heading for the doorway. In came Doctor Yena, followed by Frederick, and at least a dozen other members of Group 935.

After a shocked silence gazing upon the wrecked laboratory, Yena asked Richtofen, "What the hell happened here?!"

Richtofen adjusted his uniform and dusted debris off his shoulders picked up during his time on the floor. He chuckled, "Guten tag, Harvey. Did the meeting end early today?"

Yena stood speechless while the others murmured to his rear. After a moment of thought, he turned to them, ordering them away aside from Frederick. Edward was quick to place the Elemental Shard back into its container. Yena entered the lab as Richtofen began to drag the electrocuted subject towards a body bag. "I apologize for not being able to make it to the staff meeting. As you can see I was quite occupied!"

"Doctor… we need to talk."

"About what?" As Yena prepared a response, Richtofen raised a finger towards him, "Ah, ah! Let me guess: It's about the "Scavenger"? I've told you, Harvey, there's only room for one sniper-rifle-based Wunderwaffe at this facility! If only I could find the lost DG-Scharfschütze prototype… I mean, where could it have run off to?" Edward began picking up the equipment scattered all over the ground, checking for damage.

"This is about these… experiments. This… Elemental Shard." Yena approached the Shard's container.

Richtofen defensively rose up and lurched towards the box, placing his body in front of it, attempting to appear casual, "Elementary what now? I- er, ahem. What are you talking about, Doctor Yena? You sound… unhinged."

"Really, Edward? I sound 'unhinged'?"

"Yes! Didn't you hear me?"

"Doctor Richtofen, your work at this station ends today. Your assistant told me all about what you were up to after hours. And I have informed Doctor Maxis of everything. Gather yours and Samantha's belongings and prepare to return to The Giant."

The voices swelled in anger within Richtofen's head, causing him similar distress. He shot a glare to Frederick, who stared blankly back at him. It took every bit of will for Richtofen not to kill the two of them right then and there.

Edward tossed the recording device from the table back onto the ground.

"You cannot do this. You have no authority!"

Yena shook his head, "You left me no choice, Doctor Richtofen. You used 935 resources to work on personal projects. You've been threatening the employees, myself included! And you're clearly suffering from excessive 115-induced delusions!"

Richtofen clenched his fists, "Suffering from excessive 115-induced delusions?! How dare you accuse me of such... such... such vile lies!"

"Doctor Maxis has ordered the Elemental Shard to be sent to Division 9, where they are better equipped to study it... appropriately. You are to cease experimentation on the test subjects and put them on ice. You are to return with them to Der Riese and meet with Doctor Maxis. He would like to discuss your... dedication to the cause."

"Mein dedication? All of mein projects, mein programs! You think I'm not dedicated?! You have taken everything from me!" Edward attempted to calm himself. Despite his position in Group 935 seeming to nearly be lost, production of his greatest invention, the Wunderwaffe DG-2, should allow him enough leverage to maintain his place. He began to pace around the room, "Well, I still have the DG-2 in active development. I suppose that's something…"

"Actually, no. I'm afraid Doctor Maxis has cancelled its mass production as well."

All the blood in Richtofen's body felt as if it were collecting to his face. He was seething with unbridled wrath.

"Scheiße! This… This is all your doing! You are intentionally sowing discontent! You are trying to destroy us from within! You… You're working for the Americans, aren't you?! You are a spy! Just like Doctor Peter McCain! Doctor Maxis would never have hired Americans, no matter how much genius they have!"

Yena motioned to Frederick to retrieve the container holding the Elemental Shard, and he did as instructed, leaving through the doorway.

"No, Doctor Richtofen, that's your paranoia talking. You've been exposed to Element 115 for too long. I'm just a loyal servant to Group 935 trying to protect its interests. Now, if you have any issues, I suggest bringing them up with Doctor Maxis."

He turned away, leaving as Richtofen aired his frustrations, "Oh, hohoho, don't you worry your little lying apple-pie-brain, Herr Yena! I intend to bring up a great many things with Doctor Maxis!"

Richtofen walked in circles throughout the room, stepping over the dead subject and kicking the lab equipment across the floor. He had to lean against a table, gripping the edge tightly in his fist, his head jerking side to side.

He tried to calm himself; Now is not the time for a tantrum, now is the time for action. Operation Shield would need to be executed sooner than expected. No matter, it will be done.

Richtofen began a transmission to Griffin Station, "Griffin Station! This is Eagle's Nest!"

Groph's image appeared on the screen, asking, confused, "Eagle's Nest? What's the situation-"

"Our schedule has been advanced. Drop everything und prepare the MPD for the conduit!"

Groph appeared shocked, glancing around as if searching for witnesses to the transmission, "Ja, Doctor. Security Protocols 86, 87, und 90."

"Use whatever souls are available und dispose of the rest! I will set up a meeting at the Rising Sun Facility to ensure my demands are met. Before that, however, I will deal with Maxis, und that little brat when I get the chance… "

Chapter 41: Great Tribulation

Courtyard, The Giant ("Der Riese"), near Breslau

Dr. Edward Richtofen

October 1st, 1945

The Giant sleeps. This facility was once alive with activity; Now, it is a graveyard. Soon, Group 935 will be no more, and it will be by Doctor Richtofen's hand.

Laboratories lie in ruins, offices are burned to cinders, all due to bombings by the Russians, which have since halted as Richtofen arrived at the facility. This is where it all began. This is where the master plan took shape. Is this where it all ends?

The personnel at the facility were nearly outnumbered by the amount of Die Spinne soldiers assigned to Der Riese, with a majority of Group 935's stations having been abandoned due to a rise in outbreaks. Richtofen's plan would be the only way these scientists could survive the coming storm.

Edward cast open the door, entering what was once the campus butcher shop, now converted into a makeshift laboratory and workspace. With no receptionist to greet him, he simply passed through, shoving aside a couple of hanging pig carcasses. Forgoing a knock, Edward pulled on the large door handle leading to the meat freezer.

He was met with the shocked stares of many prestigious scientists among the leadership of Group 935 and Germany's former Wunderwaffe Program. In the center of the depraved gathering was Doctor Maxis.

The two locked eyes, their total contempt for the other seeping through their professional gaze. Not breaking eye-contact, Maxis spoke a short, calm order, "Gentlemen, this meeting is adjourned."

A majority of the scientists headed for the door, passing Richtofen an untrusting glance, but offering their self-righteous nods of acknowledgement. All except one man, Doctor Friedrich Steiner, who shouted, pointing a finger in Ludvig's face, "Warte gefälligst eine Sekunde! We are not done!"

Maxis seemed to be restraining himself, "Yes, Doctor Steiner, we are."

"I need more men. More protection! Y-You can't possibly expect us to reach the ship-"

Maxis pounded his fist into the metal table, "You will take the men that you are given! I have very little time for your incessant whining, Doctor. Leave, and I will hear nothing further on the matter."

The feeble, sweaty old man appeared to nearly say something in retort, instead wisely staying silent and walking towards the door in a huff.

Richtofen smiled, offering a sarcastic hand to him, "Ah, I've always wanted to meet the famed Doctor Steiner! It's really a pleasure… "

The sniveling coward simply stared at the floor, muttering as he left the room. Richtofen shrugged, twirling his offered hand before returning it to his side.

Doctor Maxis gave little attention to Richtofen, shuffling a stack of documents and maps on the table, forming them into a neat pile in the corner.

"Doctor… " Richtofen offered a greeting since Maxis did not. Maxis responded with a silent glare, before returning to his task, incensing Richtofen. Still, he maintained his composure, "It's been so long... too long! You're looking… well… rested, eh heh."

Now turned away, Maxis froze, his voice wavering, "Rested… I see your time away has done little for your foolhardy attitude."

It pained Richtofen to say, "I… regret offending you, Ludvig. I did not wish to imply you have been sleeping on the job… Only that-"

"Enough games, Richtofen! I assume you're here to discuss the evaluation of your subjects."

Richtofen twitched, the anger brewing inside, the voices beginning to speak up, "Among… other things."

Doctor Maxis paced over towards the back of the freezer, where a large, blue tarp was covering something large against the wall. He pulled the tarp aside, revealing three cryo-pods, the life-support systems humming quietly as the three test subjects, Dempsey, Nikolai, and Takeo, lay frozen inside.

"After a prolonged psychological evaluation, we have observed a unique effect that the injections have had compared to the control group. Their cognitive functions remain largely nominal, and their ability to speak is uninhibited, but it appears all of their specific memories have been lost."

Richtofen stepped forward, looking over the American subject along with Maxis, "Perfect for indoctrination, wouldn't you say?"

"Perhaps, Doctor, but their arousal levels are beyond our control. They are prone to violent outbursts, cursing, and in the Russian's case, excessive drinking. They are hardly the super soldiers you were instructed to create. No true progress has been made in unlocking the human mind."

"I beg to differ-"

"The American recognized my German accent, broke free of his restraints, and attempted to strangle me, calling me a 'Dirty Nazi.' They are simple-minded brutes. But, they are the closest we have come to what we promised the Chancellor. For that reason, the control group tests will be put on hold, and you will continue observations and experiments over the three test subjects… with a supervisor present."

Richtofen twitched. "I… assure you that will not be necessary, Doctor Maxis. That whole business in Siberia was nothing but a misunderstand-"

"I have little time nor patience for your excuses, your blatant disregard for protocol, and your lies, Edward!"

"Lies?! MY lies?! Were you not the one who promised you would mass-produce the DG-2?!"

Maxis threw up his arms, shaking his head, "This tired issue… For years you have harassed me and my colleagues over such a crude, cumbersome, impractical device! A mockery of my work on Die Glocke! Don't you see, Edward, it was never going to see the light of day!"

"But… you… you said-" Richtofen stumbled through his words, his head spinning and heart racing.

"What I said then means nothing now! In my time in Berlin, I have seen many truths, many possibilities for the future of Group 935. I know what I must do... where I must take us. Weapons are nothing in the face of what we are capable of!"

Edward needed to hold onto something, choosing to take hold of his own head, "I told you years ago, before this sorry war, that our talents were better served improving the human condition, not empowering these, these-"

"I made a choice to save Group 935 from bankruptcy! If not for that choice you would be peddling your childish projects to whomever would give you pity! The only choice that I regret, Herr Doktor, is inviting you into my organization!"

Richtofen scoffed, "Your organization? I may not have been here for the founding of Group 935, but I've read your operations manual. I know it was founded by a coalition of the greatest minds from all over the world. Your colleagues, your friends. Where are they now, Ludvig? Where have your Nazi benefactors sent them?"

Maxis wagged a finger in Richtofen's face, "You lecture me on my career?! My achievements?! My ethics?! I could almost laugh at such a thing coming from 'The Butcher.'"

Richtofen stepped away, trying to contain the rush of pain igniting within his mind, "How… How dare you?!" His voice cracked, a twinge of sadness showing through.

"If not for your success in matter transference… I'd have no use for you. Consider yourself fortunate."

The anguish, the fear, the wrath… Richtofen nearly felt himself slipping into unconsciousness as his vision blurred. He turned to look at Maxis, who was now facing away, tending to the documents laid out on the table. Nearby, resting openly on a shelf, was a butcher's knife. The voices beckoned him towards it, and Richtofen felt the cold, plastic handle fit gracefully into his palm. He lifted the knife, peering into the dull, yet reflective steel to stare back at his own empty gaze. Edward's vision cleared, and his mind was set.

Richtofen slowly approached Maxis from behind, twisting the knife in his hand to swing in a downward motion. Each step felt like an eternity, but his mind had never been so clear, so ready for what is to come. Edward was in ecstasy. He shut his eyes, prepared for the moment of release.

"Father? Where are you?"

Edward stopped mid-step, his arms and legs nearly going limp as all of the energy fizzled out and he was brought into reality. As Samantha's footsteps were heard entering the room and Maxis turned to face the door, Richtofen had hidden the knife behind his back, stepping aside as Samantha ran towards her father, arms open wide.

For the first time in the years, Edward witnessed Ludvig's smile as his daughter leapt into his arms to hug him. Damned girl… always in the way… always laughing and playing... She thinks her father is so perfect… if only she knew.

"How was school, honey?"

Samantha seemed to shrug, "It was good… It is always so cold in the bunker… "

Maxis offered her a pat on the head, "I know, honey… but it is for your safety. Daddy needs to finish his work."

"Daddy? Will we have to move to Russia? I've never had a Russian friend… "

"No, no, of course not, Samantha… Once our work is finished, they will leave us alone forever. We will be fine."

Sam looked towards the cryo-pods containing the subjects, "Will they help us, father?"

Maxis stood up, passing a stern look to Richtofen, then to the subjects, "Yes, honey. Doctor Richtofen's friends will protect us."

She wrapped her arms around her father's legs, "Good… "

Richtofen turned away, his frustration continuing to grow, and he paced towards the door.

Maxis said aloud, "Meet me in my office at 0700 tomorrow morning, Edward. We have work to do."

Richtofen looked over his shoulder, watching as Maxis held his daughter's hand, taking her to the corner of the room to sit with her at a table. Before departing, Richtofen offered an extended middle finger on his left hand to the unaware Doctor.

The anger lingered in his head, like an itch that could not be scratched, no matter how hard he tried. Maxis lied to him just as he lies to his daughter. Without the DG-2 in production, had Edward's work been in vain? All the hours, all the research… all for a cancelled prototype.

No, this is not the end. It is the beginning of a new dawn.

The voices guided Richtofen towards the barracks, where a number of scientists were collaborating with Die Spinne officers to coordinate their defenses in the event of an attack. Amongst the group was Doctor Novák, the Illuminati's plant within Group 935.

Taking him by surprise, Richtofen pulled Novák aside, leaning in to whisper, "Get me in contact with the Order. There is an urgent matter to discuss… "

"How did you come across this information?" The distorted voice said through the telephone receiver.

"Doctor Maxis told me in confidence. I believe your handsome servant boy, Doctor Novák, was still rubbing elbows with the Die Spinne commanders, trying to ascertain their bases around the world, ja?"

The voice on the other end paused for a moment, maintaining the affectionless tone, "Perceptive as always, Doctor. Die Spinne represents an obstacle to our goals. You have done us a great service in bringing this information to us."

"Oh, don't worry about it! I was simply trying to help out some of my oldest, best friends!"

"Had this been an altruistic act, we believe you would have come forward when you first came upon this information… There is something more you want, Doctor."

Richtofen's pitch raised, "Weeelllll… Since you are offering… I have an agreement, er, two agreements with major world powers to offer Group 935's research und manpower in exchange for safety und… a set of mein own, personal demands."

"Word has travelled, Doctor. We know of these agreements."

"Then if you are also just as perceptive as I remembered you to be, 'Mr. P,' you know what I want… "

"Our people inside the Soviet and American governments can ensure your arrangements are met… as long as your endgame aligns with our interests."

Richtofen chuckled, "Of course! Of course! You will be first in line to harness the Aether's energy… assuming our agreement is… agreeable?"

Edward heard the voices of many speakers on the other end of the line discussing the matter amongst themselves. Mr. P returned, "It is agreed, on one further condition."

"Name your price, old friend."

"There is someone you know personally who is threatening Illuminati interests with his actions. When the time is right, you must kill Doctor Maxis."

The voices assured Richtofen, his mind now returning to its elated state, and a grin now forming on his face.

"With pleasure."

***TOP SECRET***

***LEVEL 1 CLEARANCE EYES ONLY***

***DER RIESE "SERVANT" SAMPLE B67219***

What follows is a sample from the Der Riese project "Datenbediensteter" (translated: DATA SERVANT). Sample was acquired from CIA asset based out of Vozrozhdeniya in the Soviet Union and is translated from its original German below:

***SERVANT ENTRY B67129***

*Experiments ongoing.

*Observed a new effect

*As a result of experiments.

*Dr. Edward Richtofen as witness.

*Outliers as follows:

*Tank Dempsey

*Nikolai Belinski

*Takeo Masaki

*Subjects display unique

*Side effects

*Compared to previous

*Subjects.

*Baseline psyche remains

*Intact,

*But all specific memories

*Have been lost.

*Dr. Richtofen will continue

*Observations.

***END FILE***

Chapter 42: Delusions of Grandeur

Living Quarters, Griffin Station, Mare Crisium, Moon

Dr. Baron Schuster

October 10th, 1945

Today was not a typical one for Griffin Station personnel; This morning, orders were given by Doctor Groph, passed down by Doctor Richtofen, to apprehend all Die Spinne honor guards bribed into protecting the station in the event of an outbreak. They, along with all Division 9 scientists present at Der Eisendrache and Griffin Station that the soldiers themselves apprehended, are now the first in line for execution in order to fill the Pyramid Device's energy tanks. Groph also announced that Doctor Richtofen would be arriving on the Station tonight for a momentous announcement. These two events happening concurrently cannot be a result of coincidence.

Schuster feared what this all could mean. Aside from his misgivings in the execution of former allies, this sudden demand to fuel the pyramid led Schuster to postulate that Richtofen plans to open the gateway very soon. Though he kept the specifics of his plan a secret from Schuster, he knew this was not meant to take place for quite some time. Something has changed.

Schuster was also anxious about seeing Richtofen again; They had not spoken directly in years, not since he arrived on the Station wearing the uniform of a dead Nazi General. Schuster still believed in Richtofen's cause, one of prosperity and progress for all, but he feared that Richtofen may no longer be the man he once knew. Schuster himself had certainly changed in his time at the lunar base. He caught himself becoming more pessimistic and paranoid about those he once trusted. A similar behavior pattern was present in the other scientists at the facility, though this was brushed off as homesickness by senior staff. Schuster knows, however, that it is because of that infernal pyramid. Within a few more years, they may all go mad.

Richtofen had recently passed a message onto Doctor Schuster via Doctor Groph. He said that they would be going home soon. Schuster could barely ascertain what "home" meant anymore. He hoped that Richtofen was honest in this promise, but worried if the Earth he left behind was as he left it. Newspapers about the war scarcely arrived on Griffin Station, and when they did they were read only by senior staff and members of Die Spinne. The world could be burning, for all Schuster knew.

Schuster adjusted his tie in the mirror, then departed from the living quarters into the laboratories. He passed the food bowl of the Station's pet dog, Sir Davy, bowing his head in solidarity. Apparently, while being walked by Doctor Bauman, the space-suited dog somehow broke free from his leash and ran away. Schuster theorized this was a deliberate act, as senior staff such as Bauman seemed to dislike Sir Davy, the single source of enjoyment on this station for the rest of the staff. Perhaps this was the paranoia talking; Schuster hoped that the Beagle would find a happier place on this desolate rock.

All of the workstations had been abandoned, the scientists now waiting in the MPD's chamber for Richtofen's arrival. Remnants of the Die Spinne soldiers still remained throughout the labs, such as military caps, packs of cigarettes, and German banners. Schuster found them to be repugnant, despicable men, but perhaps harvesting their souls is a step too far. Schuster passed through an airlock, coming out into the pyramid's chamber, the Exclusion Zone, which was closed off from the vacuum and filled with oxygen for this occasion.

A podium was set up with Group 935's insignia painted on the front, and the open area around had tables covered in refreshments. This is the very same room where droves of men were slaughtered to fuel the MPD, and for that reason Schuster refused to partake.

Schuster kept to himself, resting on a storage crate against the wall while the others mingled. Intrusive, negative thoughts pervaded his mind, making him look upon his colleagues with disdain and distrust. Schuster rubbed his temples, trying to pull himself back to a more healthy state of mind. His best friend was returning, with good news no less. Everything will be okay.

One-by-one, the scientists excitedly left the chamber towards the MPD's central controls, awaiting Doctor Richtofen's arrival via the cargo elevator. They grew deathly silent, before erupting into applause as the doors came open, revealing Doctor Richtofen being escorted by Groph.

The crowd gathered tightly around the Doctor, being motioned aside by Groph while Richtofen stood taller than the rest in his army boots, waving to each of his devout followers. The pair finally pushed through the crowd, and Schuster locked eyes with Richtofen. His grin faded, but soon returned, more earnest than before, and he offered a nod to his old friend.

Doctor Richtofen ascended the podium, Doctor Groph at his side, trying to hush the crowd.

"Quiet down! Silence!"

The crowd only obeyed once Richtofen raised his hand, their volume now at a level before his arrival.

Richtofen tapped the microphone a few times, blowing into it to ensure it was on.

"Gentlemen! … Colleagues! … Friends. In just five years, we have gone where no man has gone before! Discovered what was once thought impossible to exist! Achieved what no one else has dared to attempt! All in spite of our enemies! Soon, all of your efforts will be rewarded. The sacrifices we have made will be immortalized in the history books! On this day, in this moment, I look over all that we have done, und I am humbled by your diligence, your intelligence, und most importantly, your loyalty."

The crowd was pleased, applauding the gracious Doctor. Schuster followed in suit, still afraid of what he had to say about their future.

"For several years, I have toiled away, planning the next phase of our operation. This war und the funding it has brought us via Group 935 would not last forever; This, I knew. Doctor Maxis' failures have compounded so greatly, that the Allies stand to destroy all that we have achieved! This, I cannot allow to happen. For that reason, we must soon commence with Operation Shield. The details of what you must do will be dispensed in the coming days by senior staff. What I will tell you is that we will not be working under the banner of Group 935 any longer. Our relationship with Die Spinne und the German government is finished."

"What?!" A hushed voice from the crowd asked, the source drowned out by murmurs from other scientists, now uncertain of their futures.

"I have ensured that each und every one of you, und your families, will be safe und sound! We will continue our work in peace! Before that, however, Group 935's senior leadership must be dealt with. Maxis und his cronies would stop at nothing to jeopardize our safety in order to protect a dying Reich!"

"Where are we going?" "What of our projects?"

"Our work will continue, stronger than ever before! Now, more than ever, I will require your cooperation in order to keep our dream alive!"

The crowd was restless, some excited, some afraid. Richtofen said something to Groph, before returning to the microphone.

"All further questions should go to Doctor Groph! He has all the answers you will need. Danke, gute Nacht!"

Richtofen stepped down from the podium, hurrying away up the stairs towards the laboratories. As the crowd clamored around Doctor Groph, Schuster stepped away, completely dumbfounded by the announcement. He could not imagine their work continuing as it does without the assistance of the remaining German factions. And how could Richtofen possibly guarantee their safety in this transition? The Allies must surely be looking to put Group 935's staff to trial.

Schuster ascended the stairs, passing through the airlock and into the laboratories. At one of the workstations where a hovering gravity lift was being held to the table by chains, Richtofen sat in a chair and fiddled with a radio and microphone.

Schuster approached Richtofen from behind, startling him, "Edward, there is much we need to discuss."

Richtofen nearly dropped the microphone in his hand, "Mein Gott, Schuster, you cannot sneak up on me like that! I will speak with you in a moment." He twisted some of the knobs on the radio.

"Edward, what is going on?"

"Ask Doctor Groph, he will answer all of your questions."

"I'd like to hear an answer from you, Richtofen. I need to know what is going to happen to our work! To our lives!"

"Fine, Schuster. Our work will continue with the help of the Americans und the Russians. I have made a deal with them to ensure our operation continues." Edward pressed the record button and moved the microphone to his face. "October 10th, 19-"

"You've done what, Doctor Richtofen?!" Schuster couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Oh, I'm sorry, do you not see the microphone in mein hand?! Recording for posterity is important." Richtofen cleared his throat, "October 10th, 1945."

"You've made a deal with the Americans?!"

"Und the Russians. You can't forget them."

"But, our work! This war!"

Richtofen scoffed, "The war is over, Doctor Schuster. It is my responsibility to ensure the work of Group 935 continues."

"But these deals… i- it would mean the end of Group 935! The Americans and the Russians would tear us apart! Everything we stood for!" Schuster's head was in his hands, he had followed Richtofen in his dreams because he believed in Group 935 as an organization, independent of government agendas. Soon they would all be working directly for the governments they once opposed.

"Everything this organization stood for died the day Doctor Maxis made that infernal deal with the Reichstag! You und I both know this to be true!"

Schuster could not believe that Richtofen would make such a life-changing decision for everyone in the organization, without consulting anyone involved.

Richtofen leaned closer, leaving the microphone on the table. "Listen to me und understand: Our technological developments with 115 are the envy of the entire world. These agreements guarantee our work will continue in America und Russia. And that they will continue with our scientists at the helm." He paused as Schuster thought the situation through, continuing, "I am sorry, but for our work to live on, Group 935 must come to an end."

Schuster was speechless, pacing around the room, trying to make sense of this predicament. The home he was promised he would return to was in neither America nor Russia.

Richtofen stood up, approaching him and speaking with a friendly tone, "Oh cheer up, Doctor Schuster. I have asked that you go to the Americans. It will be good for your… softer side."

"You will not go to America?"

"Nor to Russia. Once Doctor Groph confirms that the MPD is ready, we will proceed with Operation Shield as planned. And then… I have a date with destiny."

The lack of details troubled Schuster, "What are you getting out of this deal, Doctor Richtofen?"

Richtofen grinned, taking Schuster by the shoulder, "A feeling of fulfillment that I've saved my fellow scientists from the unemployment line, und possibly prison!"

Tired of the lies, Schuster muttered, "Edward… please… "

Edward chuckled, removing his hand. "Don't you worry about me, Doctor Schuster. I will be... well-taken care of."

Richtofen deactivated the radio. "Well... that recording is useless. I really must get some privacy, Baron, there is still much planning to do. So many paths, so many futures… "

"I have one more question, Edward: Why have your plans advanced so quickly? We still have the funds and support to run this station with the Chancellor's support for some time. Your Polarization Devices have not even been constructed yet."

Richtofen's frustration was now visible plainly on his face, though it did not seem directed at Schuster in particular, "I will admit... Doctor Maxis has forced my hand. He has impeded my work, our work, and comes closer every day to discovering our operation. He would rather watch Group 935 go up in flames than surrender. He seems to have completely lost his mind. He is the one responsible for the downfall of Group 935, not I!"

"But Doctor Maxis is not the sole leader of Group 935. What of the others?"

"If only you knew the things Maxis was capable of... What he will do..."

"What are you talking about?"

"It is none of your concern, Doctor Schuster."

Schuster shook his head, "Damn it, Edward! After all our years together, you still don't trust me. You have never seen me as an equal, have you? Just a lowly assistant..."

"What are you... I have always believed in your abilities, Baron."

"Oh really? It was only after knowing you for over a decade that I discovered your connection to the Illuminati!"

Richtofen lurched forward, hushing Schuster and searching the room, "Quiet, Schuster! They could be listening!"

"I have been by your side since day one of our operation, yet you display such little respect for me as a colleague. As a friend."

Richtofen winced, shutting his eyes and placing his hands over his head, "No! NO! You can't make me!"

"What the hell are you talking about Edward?"

Edward turned away, gripping his head and swaying side to side. Schuster's anger died down as he felt genuine concern. "Edward?"

Richtofen grabbed the radio off of the table, hurling it towards the wall, destroying the device.

Schuster backed away, leaning back onto the nearby table, "What's gotten into you, Richtofen?!"

Richtofen snickered, a smile on his face as he leaned in inches away from Schuster's face, "What's the matter, Doctor? Afraid of a little violence?"

"You're frightening me, Edward… I don't want to call-"

"Call security?!" Edward burst into laughter, stepping away, "On me? HA! What security? Oh, the ones in handcuffs und blindfolds? This is why I do not trust you with what I know. You are weak. A spineless kleiner Junge…" Edward's grin faded as quickly as it arrived, his eyes darting around and mouth left agape, as if he were in a moment of clarity.

Edward shook his head, stepping away from Schuster and adjusting his uniform. Deadpan, "You could not possibly understand the power my knowledge holds. It-... If I told you, if you even believed it… Your entire world would crumble beneath you."

The tension eased, Schuster stepped away from the table, "It's very like you to be so vague, Edward… "

Doctor Richtofen turned away, leaning over the scattered parts of the radio and picking them up one-by-one. "I walk a path no other can take. I, alone, can lead us to our salvation."

"If you are in any danger… "

Richtofen paused for a moment after picking up the last piece of the radio. He let out a short chuckle. "As I said before, Doctor. I will be well-taken care of."

The Doctor ascended the stairs towards the upper laboratories, leaving Schuster alone with his anxieties.

His legs felt as weak as his spirit, and so he sat in the nearby chair, glancing up at the Group 935 banner on the wall. Perhaps a fresh start should not be unwelcome.

***TOP SECRET***

***LEVEL 1 CLEARANCE EYES ONLY***

***[REDACTED] REEL 9-146519-20***

SUMMARY:

The following is a transcript of the third in a series of recordings that originated from [REDACTED] Base. Further study by MJ-12 is required to understand its purpose. The voices in this recording are confirmed to be DR EDWARD RICHTOFEN and DR ERWIN GROPH, both members of Group 935.

The following text is presumed to be a transmission between [REDACTED] and Eagle's Nest, located in the Austrian Alps. Why it was preserved by GROPH is currently unknown.

***START***

[Static.]

GROPH: Eagle's Nest. This is [REDACTED]. We have an update. Over.

RICHTOFEN: Dr. Groph, have you made any progress?

GROPH: Yes, Doctor. The machine is ready, and awaiting the conduit.

RICHTOFEN: [Laughing.] Very good, I will proceed with Operation Shield and join you shortly.

GROPH: Security Protocol 935.

RICHTOFEN: Yes, I will dispose of Dr. Maxis and that little brat personally. Do not. Touch. Anyth- [Recording ends abruptly.]

[Static.]

**END**

Chapter 43: Reign in Hell

Laboratories, The Giant ("Der Riese"), near Breslau

Dr. Ludvig Maxis and Dr. Edward Richtofen

October 13th, 1945

"Though our matter transference tests at the new site have been largely unsuccessful, the teleporter's malfunction has nonetheless yielded some interesting data. The fact that the test subjects departed their original point of origin is undeniable; What is uncertain is what became of them. Richtofen is insistent in his belief that they have been transported not through space... but through time. In the absence of empirical evidence, I myself cannot entertain such... madness. I fear Richtofen's... irrationality may soon prove a liability to our endeavors."

The recording device clicked, and Maxis repeatedly began to tap his finger on his desk, anxious and full of energy. His time at the Kino facility had almost broken him; He had all but lost his purpose in life. Sophia, that little distraction, abandoned him in his time of need. Ludvig's work suffered at the hands of forces out of his control, and he was humiliated in all that he tried to achieve. What he did achieve, however, was an understanding of something far more important to the very nature of the universe. The stories told by that dimwitted Doctor Groph were more fact than fiction, only he was too stupid to pursue such ventures. They were all fools to ignore the fundamental truth for so long.

Maxis ran his hand along a bumpy, elongated skull resting on his desk. It was humanoid, but lacked eye sockets or nostrils and it had massive, dagger-like teeth.

The Vril-Ya, or as they were once known, the Ancient Order of the Keepers, watch over humanity, guiding them towards the truth and preparing them to defend themselves from a great evil approaching: Forces of darkness known as the Apothicons. Years ago, Maxis had been sent on an expedition to the Himalayas, discovering relics of these ancient aliens, skulls of their kind left behind as tokens of remembrance. Two of these Keepers appeared to Maxis in a dream several weeks ago, urging him to keep going along his path. The teleporter will be the key to humanity's salvation. All those years ago, He helped push Maxis on this great journey. When mankind is finally able to walk between dimensions like the Ancients once did, the Ascension to Agartha will begin.

The Keepers in his dream were not alone… Maxis heard many voices, but among them was his love, a shattered remnant of his lost, peaceful life. Hilda said little, but Maxis knew then and there what must be done. He must return to her with Samantha.

Maxis stood from his desk, departing towards the laboratories to begin the day's trials along with Doctor Richtofen. Edward is the only scientist to show any promise in perfecting matter transference, but Maxis had grown weary of his delusions; His time in Siberia must have driven him mad. When the gateway opens, there is no accounting for what Edward might do… what he is capable of. Something will need to be done about the good Doctor soon, or he will destroy us all…

Despite the stalled bombings of Der Riese, buildings still burned throughout the facility, unable to be put out due to the lack of manpower and resources allotted to them. No one has been able to enter or leave the facility for several days, with the roads being blocked by Soviet tanks. Aerial supply drops have halted after losing contact with the Chancellor's base in Argentina. Something has gone wrong; Someone is sabotaging Group 935 and Die Spinne from the inside. The Russians have halted the bombings as one final chance for peaceful surrender. The bastards will not be given such satisfaction. The MTD will save us.

Maxis entered the door code to the large laboratory just east of the Animal Testing Labs, revealing the third MTD prototype in this series, Teleporter C. Just down the stairs from the prototype, near a generator, Doctor Richtofen was sorting through documents on a table while Samantha was speaking to him.

Richtofen was wearing that infernal Nazi uniform again. After repeatedly ordering him to change into more suitable attire, he was met only with excuses, a common tactic from Edward. Maxis hated the uniform; It was a reminder of his failure to live up to the Reich's expectations, a reminder of what they had done to the culture of this organization, and what they had done to its mission statement. Somewhere, beneath his pompous surface, Edward must know how much it enraged Ludvig.

"Doctor." Edward noticed Ludvig's arrival, greeting him with a self-satisfied smirk.

Ludvig barked, "Set up the testing area before I have you thrown out of the lab, Edward!"

Unusually, Edward said nothing in retort, following Maxis' orders and ascending the stairs.

Maxis leaned down to speak to his daughter, much more calmly. "Honey, today is going to be very, very important to us. To our future. Do you understand?"

Samantha nodded, holding her Teddy Bear tightly against her chest, "Yes, father."

"For that reason, you must stay out of the lab today. I don't know what Doctor Richtofen allowed you to see in Siberia, but for your safety, it is imperative that you never come back in here until I say you can. Is that clear?"

"Yes, father." Samantha looked away as she spoke, turning side to side nervously. "Is everything going to be okay? Like mother said?"

"Yes, dear." He wrapped his arms around her, nearly brought to tears. He had missed what it felt like to hold her. "Everything will be okay, Samantha… I have a plan."

He held her for another few moments, glancing up at the teleporter where Doctor Richtofen offered him a thumbs-up, indicating it was time to begin the day's trials.

Doctor Maxis guided Samantha out of the building, then returned to the lab, prepared for some sanctimonious jab from Doctor Richtofen upon his return. Instead, he quietly awaited Maxis' instructions.

"Have the subjects been collected without Samantha seeing them?"

"Yes, Doctor. All of them are awaiting the trials. Shall I fetch the first subject?"

Maxis was suspicious of Richtofen's submissiveness. Perhaps he had finally learned, too late to be sure, to act like a professional. "Proceed."

Doctor Richtofen walked down a nearby hallway, returning with a dog attached to a leash. He struggled to guide it along, as it tried to run away from the lab. The dog was a young German Shepherd, and it limped due to a foot injury. Richtofen dragged it forcefully into the MTD's chamber, tying the other end of the leash around a horizontal grab bar inside the chamber.

The dog lurched forward, attempting to run but held back by the leash. It ran around the interior of the chamber in a panic trying to escape to no avail.

"The subject is ready, Doctor Maxis."

Maxis activated the recording device on the table, speaking into it, "Initiating test number three. Subject is within the test chamber. Activate power."

Doing as instructed, Richtofen powered on the device with the control panel before them. The chamber's door closed around the subject, enveloping the interior in smoke as the MTD powered up. Lights in the room flickered as power fluctuated, and eventually the capacitors quieted down and the door opened. Through dispelling smoke lied what remained of subject number three.

It was just a lump of seared flesh with the leash still wrapped around it. Detached parts of the mush still twitched with frayed, dying nerve endings still active, and the room soon smelled of cooked, rancid meat.

Richtofen shook his head, "Oh- Oh my god… "

Maxis placed a hand on Richtofen's shoulder, ordering him towards the test chamber, "Get a hold of yourself and clean that up! Test number three unsuccessful; Test subject has been reduced to the same state as previous subjects." Maxis caught Richtofen looking at him with disgust and began shouting in his face, "Clean up the test chamber and recalibrate the system! Let's do it again."

"Yes, Doctor." Richtofen did as instructed, wiping away the look on his face and donning a set of gloves to pick up the hunk of flesh left behind from the test. He placed it into a disposable bag, setting it aside for destruction. Richtofen then approached the control panel, recalibrating the system to Maxis' specifications.

"Fetch the next subject."

"Yes, Doctor."

As Richtofen stepped away, Maxis checked his inputs into the system. The imbecile had shifted the numbers by two tenths of a decimal. Maxis adjusted the numbers again. Doctor Richtofen could not jeopardize this critical experiment. They told Ludvig that today would be the day of salvation.

Richtofen returned with a dog of the same breed, performing the same task as before.

"Ready, Doctor Maxis."

Edward seemed quite eager to begin. Maxis informed him, "I have fixed your error in the system's calibration. Next time, you will meet my orders exactly as they are given!"

Richtofen did not even look at him, twitching before muttering, "Understood, Doctor. It won't happen again..."

"Indeed, it will not." Maxis activated the recorder, "Initiating test number four. Subject is within the test chamber. Activate power."

The capacitors fizzled once again, enclosing the more docile canine and beginning the teleportation process. Maxis shut his eyes, praying this would be a successful trial.

Unfortunately, like before, the subject was reduced to an unrecognizable state, albeit with more distinct features of something once living.

"Damn!" Maxis pounded on the table, running his hand over his bald head, searching for what Richtofen must have done to ruin this trial. With no perfect answer, he instead barked another order, "Clean it up and meet my specifications accordingly! We're getting closer. I know it… "

"Yes, Doctor. Right away."

Doctor Richtofen inputted a set of adjusted numbers and retrieved another subject. It was the dog he had gifted Samantha many years ago, Fluffy.

"Are you sure about this, Doctor Maxis? We spent so many years training her, und to let her brood go to waste… "

"Enough delaying, Edward! When this is all over I'll get Samantha another! What difference does it make?! Now, do as I ask."

"Yes, Doctor."

Doing as instructed, Richtofen dragged the whining dog into the test chamber. Fluffy was more aggressive than usual, being pregnant again and prepared to give birth soon. Richtofen struggled with her, as Maxis impatiently activated the recording device.

"Edward, tie the damn thing down! We can't have it running around during the test!"

Fluffy whimpered as she struggled to escape the chamber. Richtofen returned to the control panel.

"It's tied down now, Doctor Maxis."

"Initiating test number five. Subject is within the test chamber. Activate power."

The lights flickered for longer than usual as Fluffy's cries silenced. Edward glanced at the control panel, checking that the receiving pad in the courtyard was still on reserve power.

As the smoke dispelled into the room, it was apparent that Fluffy was completely gone. The chamber had been emptied.

Richtofen looked over the panel, "Searching for vitals… No reading, Doctor. The subject has… disappeared. Doctor Maxis, we've done it!"

Maxis did not let this glimmer of hope overcome him, "Don't be foolish! Test number five is unsuccessful. Subject has vanished, yes, but has not reappeared at the mainframe. Recalibrate the damn system, now!"

They are so close. This must be it. The end of suffering, and a new dawn for mankind.

Maxis was glowing, ignoring Richtofen as he recalibrated the system and retrieved the next subject. He paced across the room, looking up at the Group 935 insignia on the wall, proud of what had not even occurred yet, but what was sure to happen.

Before Richtofen could inform Maxis that he was ready, he returned to the table, activating the recording device and ordering Richtofen to begin, "Initiating test number six. Subject is within the test chamber. Activate power."

The device powered on with a blinding light, but Maxis could not look away. All of his work, all of his anguish, has led to this triumph.

The MTD began to act strangely, the capacitors letting off sparks, and the light inside the chamber appearing to flash as if the device was malfunctioning.

"Damn it, Edward! Did you set up the device correctly?!"

"Yes, Doctor. As per your specifications."

"If you had done it to my specifications then it would have worked, wouldn't it? As usual, your incompetence has-"

Within the closed test chamber, a blinding white light appeared, materializing something inside and surprising the scientists with a quick burst of noise.

"What? Do you hear that, Doctor Maxis?"

There was some kind of low rumbling coming from within the chamber.

"Quiet, you fool! Test number six is a failure, but the experiment has caused some kind of electrical force to energize within the chamber." Pointing towards the MTD, Maxis issued his order, "Well, open the door!"

"Doctor, I don't think-"

"Open the door NOW!"

Chills coursed through Maxis' body as he witnessed what was standing inside the test chamber. A dog, the same size as Fluffy, stood in the chamber, most of its flesh missing, exposing the muscle and bone beneath, but the dog itself appeared alive and angry. Its head was hung low, exposing its teeth, and its tail was raised as if about to attack. Its eyes had a piercing, red glow.

Ludvig's heart sank as he heard a voice from his rear coming from Samantha. She had quietly entered the room, and was now running up the stairs. She stood in the middle of the laboratory, muttering through tears, "Daddy, what are you doing with Fluffy?!"

"Damn it, Samantha, I told you never to come in here!" Fear building as the dog set its sights on his daughter, Maxis barked at Richtofen, "Edward! Get her out of there!"

"Yes, Doctor…"

As Richtofen approached, the hound let out a wicked howl, frightening Samantha and causing her to scream. Richtofen stayed back, trying not to provoke the beast. Samantha stepped closer into the test chamber with Fluffy.

"What's wrong with her?! Daddy, what did you do?! Fluffy!"

She attempted to reach out towards her pet she once loved, only for Fluffy to snap her jaws at her in return.

Maxis ran towards the chamber, "Come back here, Samantha! Stop her!" Richtofen did nothing, so Maxis shoved him aside, wrapping his arms around Samantha, who had backed herself up against the wall of the chamber and refused to move, "Easy… Come here, Samantha. Good girl, Fluffy… "

The hound set its sights on Ludvig, who was now trying to pick up his daughter to make a dash away from the test chamber, "Gently, Samantha… That's not Fluffy anymore… We must get out of here… "

Both the dog's and Ludvig's attention was drawn to the sound of the chamber's door coming closed, trapping Ludvig and Samantha inside with the abomination. Through the viewport, Maxis could see Doctor Richtofen waving at him with a grin stretched across his face.

Doctor Maxis pounded on the glass view port of the MTD, begging for his loathsome life, "What?! Edward, what are you doing?! Open the door! Edward, open this door now!"

His weeping daughter muttered loud enough to enjoy from the outside, "Dad… I'm scared…" The hound let out a low growl.

"Don't go!" Richtofen walked toward the control panel, placing his hand over it. Maxis left the view of the window, attending to the brat, "Stay by me, Samantha… "

"Goodbye, Doctor Maxis… "

Richtofen powered on the device, whisking them all away for good. He let out a guttural cackle, the voices laughing with him. He could not contain his sense of righteousness, his joy in this very moment. Within his head, the Shadowman made his approval known, "Loyalty is no match for power… "

Richtofen raised his hand off the control panel, looking over it from back to front, and clenching his hand in a fist. He felt chills running up his body, not just due to the euphoria, but also the temperature, which seemed to have declined.

He paid it little mind, descending the stairs and retrieving some of his belongings from his locker. The final phase of Operation Shield will now proceed.

His triumphant march towards the security station was cut off by a transmission on his handheld radio.

The voice of Doctor Groph came through, "Doctor Richtofen?! Come in, Doctor Richtofen! This is Griffin Station, there has been an incident, over!"

"What is it, Doctor?"

"You need to return to Griffin Station at once! Somehow, Maxis' daughter, Samantha, has arrived on the base, and… regrettably, she has entered the pyramid device!"

Richtofen asked, "How could you allow this to happen?!"

There was panic in Groph's voice, "I- I- I don't know, Doctor! The pyramid was ready for your arrival, when she suddenly materialized within the receiving bay und made her way into the labs. Schuster und I could not catch her in time."

"Scheiße! When I get there, you'd better have-" Richtofen had stepped outside the laboratories building, and stopped dead in his tracks.

"Doctor? Doctor! What is going on down there?!"

Richtofen raised the radio back to his lips after a moment of confusion, saying, "It's nothing, Groph. It's just… well... it's snowing."

Chapter 44: Covenant

Exclusion Zone, Griffin Station, Mare Crisium, Moon

Dr. Baron Schuster and Dr. Edward Richtofen

October 13th, 1945

After attempts to coax Samantha Maxis from the Moon Pyramid Device failed, Doctor Richtofen arrived at Griffin Station to try and speak to her personally. This did little to sway her opinion that all of Griffin Station's staff are liars. She continued to call out for her father and weep, her cries permeating the air within the Exclusion Zone. Schuster could only imagine what she was now seeing inside the Aether.

If she is alive, then it must be assumed that Doctor Maxis is alive as well. Doctor Richtofen has ordered Groph and Schuster to find a way to bring Doctor Maxis to Griffin Station and convince Samantha to leave the pyramid willingly; A task that once seemed impossible, however, a new discovery about the MPD may prove to be the solution. Through interfacing tests with the Vril Sphere, it was discovered that the MPD is able to locate and teleport individuals between any two points in space using only a sample of their DNA. Perhaps, somehow, this process played a role in Richtofen's first arrival to the Moon.

The Vril Sphere, referred to by Richtofen as the Black Egg, is a supposed Vril artifact discovered near the pyramid during excavation with the uncanny ability to levitate. Stranger even, the Sphere seemed to hold some form of intelligence, choosing to gravitate close to the pyramid whenever possible, and emitting odd electronic sounds that appear to be a part of an alien language. After further study, it was found that the Sphere is indeed intelligent, and is designed to interface with the pyramid device after being given commands. Over time, its language was analyzed and is now understood by Griffin Station's computer, giving the scientists complete control of the device.

With the Vril Sphere's cooperation, all that was needed was a piece of Doctor Maxis' DNA. Disturbingly, Doctor Richtofen had already created an analysis of a strand of Maxis' hair using the computer system. Schuster shuddered at the thought of what Richtofen may have been planning with such data.

Richtofen departed shortly after giving his orders, though he did not say where he was going. He only told Schuster, "I know what must be done," a very typically vague statement for Edward.

"Doctor Schuster, contact Doctor Richtofen. The device is ready." Doctor Groph paced over towards Schuster, who was keeping watch of the MPD's systems.

"Yes, Doctor." Schuster began a radio transmission.

Groph leaned over into the microphone, "This is Griffin Station, we have an update, over."

Suddenly a drawn out, ear-piercing screech came through the radio, steadily rising for a few moments while Groph and Schuster muffed their ears.

The screeching stopped abruptly, followed by the sound of boots hitting dirt as if they were running towards the radio. Doctor Richtofen, apparently out of breath, had picked up the transmission.

"Go… ahead… Griffin Station… Over."

"We may have a solution to locate Doctor Maxis using your DNA analysis. It appears the Black Egg-"

Richtofen cut him off, "Ja, ja, ja, wunderbar. Just make sure when that brat is free that you finish what I started. I will return shortly."

Groph looked just as curious as Schuster felt about where Richtofen might be, "Should we… await your return, Doctor?"

"Nein! There is no more time, just get her out of there, Doctor Groph."

Groph and Schuster looked at each other with uncertainty. Schuster spoke up, "We were also unable to locate the… evil-looking dog you spoke of."

Richtofen exclaimed in frustration, muttering to himself, "Ach! Figures… Oh well. Just proceed with the plan. Good luck, Griffin Station."

The transmission cut out, leaving Groph and Schuster to acquiesce to Doctor Richtofen's orders.

Groph turned away, pacing over to the Vril Sphere, which was now interfacing with the computer system, sending bolts of electricity into the machine. He began typing away at the keyboard dispassionately.

Schuster approached him, asking, "Are you sure this will work, Doctor Groph?"

"Of course it will!" Groph snapped at him, "Are you doubting the designs of the Ancients?"

"Not just the artifact… What if we make an error and Doctor Maxis arrives in an irrecoverable state? What if he does not want to cooperate with us? What if he has a scheme of his own?"

Groph let out a sarcastic laugh, "Ha! You give Doctor Maxis too much credit. I know you have not communicated with him in some time, but he's still the fool he was at the beginning of the war."

Groph continued, his anxieties starting to show on his face, "If Doctor Richtofen believes it will work, it will work. He is not always straightforward in his orders, nor is he the most informative of leaders… But he knows more than any of us could ever comprehend. He bears such a heavy burden of responsibility… I would pity him, if he were not so successful in his endeavors."

Schuster shook his head, "All this talk of responsibility and burdens… Do we even know what future we are working towards here? Is all this uncertainty even necessary?"

"You're far too preoccupied with details, Doctor Schuster." Doctor Groph gazed into the levitating, black orb above the computer, "Sometimes the best path is the one… straight… ahead… "

Groph had become mesmerized by the Sphere, trailing off in his little speech. The computer system interpreted a command from the Sphere, and a female voice emitted from the station's speakers, "Vril device ready for retrieval process."

Groph snapped back to attention, "Excellent." He walked over to the other side of the room, retrieving a recording device and placing it on his belt. "It's time to make history, Doctor Schuster."

He fiddled with the computer controls, causing the Vril Sphere to start spinning while Groph was wringing his hands together nervously.

"I hope this works… Schuster, power it up."

Schuster pulled a switch on a wall near the pyramid, allowing the central panel to be interfaced with the Vril Sphere. The pyramid is usually locked down, as the Vril Sphere seems to have a preference for staying close to the pyramid while powered up. As expected, the Sphere slotted right in, causing a spark on the panel as the symbols across its face began to glow a bright, fluorescent blue.

The female synthesized voice echoed throughout the station as other scientists approached to observe the experiment, "Systems nominal. Accessing Vril device." The Sphere began to buzz and vibrate while the computer system made an artificial scanning sound. "Interface via M.P.D. active. Accessing M.P.D. M.P.D. integrity check nominal. Awaiting input."

Groph motioned to Schuster at the controls, "Excellent. Bring the sample."

Schuster opened a panel beneath the system and inserted a data card containing a DNA analysis of Doctor Maxis. He then shut the panel and the artificial voice continued, "Analyzing M.P.D. Creating profile." The screen displayed the individual strands, processing all that made up Ludvig Maxis. "Profile created."

Groph issued the next order, "Excellent. Now scan for target."

"Yes, Doctor." Schuster input the command into the terminal, causing the power systems to fluctuate. Eventually, the lights on the MPD began to flicker, as power returned, and a set of coordinates appeared on the screen, translated exactly from the Vril Sphere's basic spoken language.

"Target located."

Groph smiled, pleased with himself, "Bring him here, immediately… "

Schuster input a set of receiving coordinates leading to the open space to his right in the lab. The MPD powered up, spewing smoke into the air not unlike the Matter Transference Device. After a moment, a man suddenly materialized from thin air, landing on his back on the metal walkway.

Groph and Schuster approached him, looking down on him as he opened his eyes and regained his bearings. He was hardly the stoic, strict leader of Group 935 that Schuster knew years ago. He was sad, old, and tiny from this point of view.

Schuster spoke first, "Greetings, Doctor Maxis."

Maxis seemed almost too weak to stand, flipping his body over as he glared back at Schuster, speaking with an incensed demeanor, "Schuster! I should have known… Where is that rat, Edward?!" He glanced at the ceiling made of grey rock and the various computer systems far more advanced than anything present at Der Riese. "Where are we? And how did you get me out of that wretched tunnel-"

Doctor Groph brandished a Luger taken from one of the Die Spinne officers, pointing it directly at Maxis. "None of that is important right now. Allow me to fill you in… "

Groph tapped the device at his belt, then ordered two nearby scientists to pick Maxis up off of the floor.

"Shortly before your deal with the Reichstag was finalized, Doctor Richtofen discovered a way to teleport to Earth's moon, und here he discovered the Moon Pyramid Device: A gateway to the Aether. A dimension of great power, once used by the Ancients. We have studied the pyramid for years, learning its secrets und using Group 935 resources to accomplish our goals."

"Do you mean to tell me we're… on the Moon?"

Groph used his free arm to punch Maxis in the ribs, sending him reeling as the two other scientists attempted to pull him back up.

"Your questions are of no use to us… Richtofen planned on getting rid of both you und your loathsome daughter, but… it seems something has gone wrong. Samantha has hidden herself away inside the Device. As we speak she is being subjected to the raw intensity of the Aether's power. Her little head may barely be able to handle any more if it… "

Maxis lurched forward, still being held in place by the scientists, "Damn it, Groph! Get her out of there! She's just a little girl, she has no idea what she is doing!"

Groph waved the gun in Maxis' face, "You can either convince her to leave the Device willingly und she can leave this place alive, or… we dispose of you and remove her forcefully."

Maxis appeared defeated, shaken by today's revelations and whatever he had seen just before arriving at the station. This was fortunate, as Schuster knew that Groph had no idea how he would force Samantha from the pyramid if his gambit failed.

"Very well… I will talk to her."

"Excellent… Doctor Richtofen will be most pleased. If only he were here to witness it…"

Groph directed the pair to drag Maxis to the MPD. They tossed him to the ground before the front panel and stepped back, while Groph stepped forward, weapon to the back of Maxis' head.

Maxis stared at the floor in silence, speaking to the void, black pyramid device after the gun was pressed against his cranium.

"Samantha, honey? Daddy is here... Come dear, please. Open the machine. Daddy will not let them hurt you anymore." The air was silent. "Honey? Daddy knows he's made some mistakes. I am truly sorry that you were put through so much... When your mother died, I could not bear the thought of losing you too... That's why I kept you so close... I did not mean to neglect you." Tears began to well up in Maxis' eyes. "I just wanted to know you were safe from harm-"

The pyramid device began to hiss, releasing smoke into the air as the four faces of the pyramid began to separate at the edges, sinking into the device, revealing a massive orb of blue energy, and hovering above it, Samantha in her blue dress, her teddy bear in her arms. She descended to the ground before Maxis, her eyes glowing a bright yellow as she was pulled closer by her father.

She wept into his arms, "Daddy!"

"I love you, Samantha… "

Through the sobbing, she muttered, "I love… you too, Daddy… "

Hesitating for a moment, Maxis held her at arm's length and said solemnly, "Can you do something for me? Something very important… "

She sniffled, "Yes… "

Maxis stood up, looking back into Schuster's eyes as he said, "Kill them... all."

Maxis pushed her back towards the pyramid, reaching deep into his lab coat and removing a handgun. He placed the barrel to his chin and pulled the trigger, filling the air with pink mist.

Groph screamed, "NO!"

The pyramid closed around Samantha, completely enveloping her body. From Maxis' body, an orb of light shot into the air towards the MPD's capacitors. Through the air, Samantha began to giggle, the laugh becoming distorted as the entire base began to rumble.

Schuster's eyes widened as he watched several human arms burst forth from the floor below, "We're doomed… "

An arm shot up from the floor below Doctor Groph, gripping his leg as the entire body began to surface. Groph fired a shot from his Luger into the arm, having little effect. He tried to pull himself away, only to fall on his back. Before Schuster could attempt to save him, two more bodies shot up from the ground, their uniforms denoting they were prisoners executed and buried at the base by the scientists. They each gripped his arms, pulling them away from each other while Groph struggled and screamed in terror. The undead creature at his feet, eyes glowing a piercing orange, began to chew away at his leg, while the other began biting at his neck and head. Schuster had never witnessed such agony before, feeling sick to his stomach, but he was determined not to die on this Station.

He ran back towards the lab, pushing past panicking scientists who were desperately trying to reach the station's MTDs. Schuster prepared to join them, before suddenly feeling a lightness at his feet as they were swept out from under him. He and a dozen other scientists flew through the air back towards the pyramid. Something had released all of the oxygen in the Exclusion Zone into space.

Schuster found himself unable to breath as he held on dearly to a generator separating the Exclusion Zone from the control system. He could not hear their screams in the vacuum, but several scientists were sucked through the gap above the pyramid into the void of space. With them went the bodies of Groph and Maxis, as well as several zombies. Schuster used what little strength he had left to pull himself towards the generator's power switch. Deactivating the power, the female PA system bellowed throughout the Station, "Emergency power failure. Returning oxygen to all indoor spaces and initializing backup generators."

Breathable air soon returned to the room, and a light-headed Schuster along with the others headed for Tunnel 6 to find the teleporters.

Schuster ran through the airlock and into Tunnel 6, hardly any safer than he was in the Exclusion Zone. Several undead Die Spinne soldiers were tearing apart a group of scientists in the lower tunnel, while others roamed about. They seemed insurmountable to Schuster.

Suddenly, machine gun fire echoed throughout the tunnel. Schuster leaned back against the wall, fearing what must be coming for him. Had the Russians discovered how to use the teleporters at Der Riese? Were the Americans here to claim their prisoners?

An undead Division 9 scientist bounded towards Schuster, before being cut down by an MP-40 wielded by none other than Doctor Richtofen.

"Danke for saving some of the fun for me, Doctor Schuster!"

Schuster could barely speak, the shock from everything that had just transpired overwhelming him. "Groph… he's… he's… dead! They're everywhere!"

Richtofen pulled Schuster back to his feet, reassuring him, "Calm down, Baron! I'm getting you out of here!"

Richtofen guided Schuster through Tunnel 6, gunning down several undead standing in his way and cackling with each and every kill.

"What about the others?!" Schuster looked back at one of his former colleagues, now being dragged away by the undead beasts.

"I have everyone I need already! Their sacrifices will be remembered!" Richtofen seemed to shout down the hallway at the screaming men.

He frantically input a number sequence into the door, allowing himself into the teleporter room. Several other scientists were waiting, terrified, inside an MTD.

Richtofen approached a nearby locker, pulling out a revolver and handing it to Schuster, "You wanted responsibility, Doctor Schuster. Return to Eagle's Nest with these men und keep them alive while you await the Americans. Then, it is imperative that you destroy any MTDs capable of reaching Griffin Station."

Schuster held the weapon like a child, "What about you?! Where are you going?"

"As I said, I will be well taken care of."

"This isn't a game, Edward! Samantha has taken control of the Station! Of the Untoten! We need help if we are going to survive! He told her… he told her to kill us all… "

"I promise you, Doctor Schuster… this is the last time I will ask you to trust me und follow my orders. I will have help, but I need you to get to safety. It is the only way… Now, get in the device. Please, Baron… "

Schuster hesitated, looking his old friend in the eyes, searching for some humanity, some glimmer of his past self shining through. For once, Richtofen seemed to be telling the truth.

Doctor Schuster stepped into the MTD, staring back at Richtofen through the port. Richtofen breathed a sigh of relief as his last remaining friend was teleported away safely. As the smoke dispelled into the room, Richtofen jumped at a loud bang at the door. A scientist from the station was slamming his fist into the door, begging for help and leaving a bloody handprint on the glass.

Edward simply looked away, inputting coordinates to Der Riese, and stepping into the MTD.

Over the loudspeakers, the Station's security system began blaring rapidly as the automated PA system bellowed out, "Excavator Pi will cause decompression of MTD Facility."

The door closed around him, sending his body through the Aether to his destination.

Arriving at one of the MTD testing labs at Der Riese, Richtofen moved swiftly towards the facility's security station, passing several scientists talking amongst themselves outside a set of living quarters. Richtofen could hear them murmuring, "They've lost control in there." "It broke free of the restraints and killed him." "I hear it's going on across the whole facility."

Richtofen was approached by Doctor Porter, still in his nighttime attire like the others, who were preparing to go to sleep, "Doctor Richtofen, do you know what's going on?! Where is Doctor Maxis?"

Edward shoved him aside, tossing a non-answer back at him, "No idea, haven't seen him, Auf Wiedersehen!"

He reached the security station, entering the passcode he had memorized, and walking right through the door with no opposition. Every man inside had been pulled away by incidents across the facility. On the security feeds, Richtofen saw undead attempting to break free from containment all across Der Riese. He prepared to give them a final nudge by deactivating the security power grid, stopping with his hand over the button. Something inside beckoned him to stop, to end the madness and help these terrified men. Something else, on the other hand, pushed him to continue. Edward grinned ear-to-ear, his mind having been made up months ago.

One feed showed a set of security doors coming wide open as a dozen undead locked away in storage containers lumbered out. All across the facility, there were men screaming and fighting for their lives. Pompous, arrogant scientists. Cruel, repugnant Nazis.

Edward approached a radio in the corner of the room, starting a transmission on a predetermined frequency, "Comrade Gorki, you may begin your advance… I'll be seeing you!"

Richtofen returned to the monitors, watching on as the body count rose. Eventually, over the facility-wide PA system, the automated voice blared repeatedly, "Warning, The Shield is now active. Find and destroy the designated materials and report to the barracks, this is not a drill."

Right on time.

Edward stepped out from the security station, MP-40 in hands, pleased with the chaos he had wrought as the gunshots and screams echoed in the distance.

The little girl taking control of the MPD was… unexpected. But Edward had prepared for such an outcome. He had prepared for everything.

The Shadowman whispered, "Remember the promise you made to us so long ago. Resolve the paradox and your soul will be freed. You must awaken the test subjects."

***TOP SECRET***

***LEVEL 1 CLEARANCE EYES ONLY***

***SHI NO NUMA RECORDING #1***

SUMMARY:

The following is a transcript of a recordings that originated from the Group 935 outpost dubbed "The Swamp." The voice heard in this recording belongs to the handler of the operative "CWZGUTCT" who went missing at an unknown time prior to the sending of this message. The operative is presumed dead and the location of Shi No Numa has yet to be resolved.

**START**

[Static.]

AUTOMATED: R-408n 37 14 06 115 48 40.

HANDLER: I hope that you are receiving this transmission [REDACTED], if you are not, then all is already lost. You must know by now that we failed to contain the asylum, that we had to move the experiment here. Location. The numbers will guide you. The giant must remain...

[Static.]

...at all costs. Repeat. Der Riese must be contained at all costs. The DG-2 experiments continue. You're our only advantage now. Find Doctor...

[Static.]

and Doctor Maxis. They may know what's going on. The use of element 115 is dangerous at best. I'm not sure if we can continue here. We've lost most of our best...

[Static.]

...team. I hope you get this. I hope it hasn't happened there too. But I'm almost out of hope.

AUTOMATED: 60 54 06.96 101 55 44.94.

**END**

Chapter 45: Relentless

Approaching Rising Sun Facility ("Shi No Numa"), Empire of Japan

Agent Peter McCain

October 18th, 1945

'For every evil act done upon one man by another, there are three acts of good being done elsewhere.'

Every fiber of Peter's body ached from the past several weeks of running, hiding, and restless sleeping in whatever hole could keep him warm. After escaping Verrückt, he drove the German army truck as far as he could across the German countryside, before running out of gas and being forced to travel on foot. He avoided platoons of Soviets searching through homes and asserting their authority over the innocent civilians left behind in the wake of the war. Peter reached a small town, and thanks to the charity of a local veterinarian, received a good night's sleep and some medication to ease the pain in his arm stump.

Shortly after, he received a faint transmission on his radio from Pernell telling him to rendezvous at the Rising Sun Facility. Tensions must be high in the rest of Germany if Pernell could not have him rendezvous somewhere west of Berlin. Through careful planning and a little luck, Peter took control of an abandoned German cargo plane and headed to Japan. Weeks prior, US Marines had apparently taken control of the facility and begun their own work there. Peter only hoped he was not trading one madhouse for another.

During his medical training, Peter had once read about a phenomenon in amputees where the missing limb will still feel as if it is attached in the mind of the amputee. It would be a fascinating experience to study after having lost his arm, if it were not such an uncomfortable feeling. It started as an itch that could not be scratched, but now Peter's brain was tricking him into thinking there was pain in his fingertips that are no longer there. Maybe the doctors will make him one of those new artificial limbs.

Peter imagined all the people gawking at him at the store back home, covering their childrens' eyes and scolding him for even existing. Then again, maybe he will get some respect, like, "Don't fuck with that guy, he lost his arm fighting Nazis!" Mary will probably think it's neat.

Peter thought more about his daughter, making sure the plane stayed level as he did so. What was he thinking, joining the OSS? For what, medals? For the sake of protecting American freedom? Is that what this research is for? Mary deserves better. She deserves a father who would never leave her. Peter didn't need to destroy Group 935; It destroyed itself.

So many good men lost to acquire the research in Peter's lap. Research into weapons designed for killing, resurrecting the dead for the sake of killing… But the mission continues.

'No matter the depths man may go to in order to cause harm, there is an inherent love and compassion lodged in his soul.'

The plane was now approaching the Rising Sun Facility with little fuel left to stay in the air. Peter had not spotted a landing strip, and doubted there would be one for miles with all of the swamp water and trees. He would need to abandon the plane and parachute into the facility. Nothing like leaping from a plane to cap off a nightmare of an operation.

A few minutes out from the main facility, Peter took a peek at the research. He wished he was not so curious.

He felt sick to his stomach reading through the abominable experiments committed by Division 9 and Group 935. To test a new weapon prototype designed to freeze targets, prisoners of war had limbs soaked in the freezing solution and broken off while they were still alive, only to die a short time later. Electro-shock therapy experiments on prisoners were designed to break their minds and allow for them to be controlled as sleeper agents. They were also used as targets for biologically mutated humans and animals to tear apart.

Peter could not bear to read anymore, setting the research aside. This is what became of the men inside that boxcar, back in the Philippines. This barbaric research resulted in nothing of value. Countless lives lost for nothing but the sick enjoyment of these criminals.

Peter turned and looked out on the foggy, green and brown landscape surrounding the facility. Setting the plane on a collision course with an empty swamp, he stood from the pilot's seat and ensured the parachute was ready. He headed for the exit door, the research and prototype Ray Gun Mk. 3 in his satchel. He donned his green Marine helmet and looked out over the drop point.

There were no lights, or really any signs of human activity surrounding the wooden buildings below. The research teams and Marine squads must all be waiting indoors.

Peter let out a heavy breath, remembering his training. Something held him back, however. Not fear. Guilt.

Peter glanced at the satchel, with information that he was told could save so many American lives and change the world for the better. He pondered, is this how Doctor Maxis saw his work? Or Doctor Richtofen? They did, indeed, change the world. Their genius was corrupted by the power they held, power given to them because of their genius. A never-ending cycle. But now, Peter was set to pass the torch onto his own people to make the best of this terrible work. Could every man and woman who sees it know the right thing to do with it?

With time short as the jump window was closing, Peter made a quick decision: He removed the satchel from his person, tossing it and the Ray Gun in his hand towards the cabin of the plane. To Hell with the consequences.

'No matter what you see, and no matter what you do, understand that evil is not a part of the human spirit; It is a disease that must be fought at every turn.'

Peter jumped from the plane, feet-first, plummeting through the air for what felt like an eternity, before pulling the cord and deploying the parachute. He felt a jolt through his body as the air yanked him back, and his descent slowed. He turned to look at the plane and vital research he had just abandoned, watching as it flew beyond the horizon into nothingness.

He did his best to hold in his lunch as he looked down over the Rising Sun Facility. He aimed to land near the central building, in some kind of open storage area. He felt an incredible weight lifted from his shoulders, and closed his eyes to think of the peaceful home he would be returning to. He thought of weekends at the park with Mary, pushing her on the swingset. He thought of late night beers with Dempsey, betting on Baseball games. He thought of meeting Isko and Hilario's family, telling them of what a hero Isko was in his final moments. He thought of writing letters to check up on Marque and Silvie. He thought of finding Wesley's mother, and telling her he was sorry for what happened to her son.

A gust of wind ejected Peter from his thoughts, sending him spinning off course from the landing point. He did his best to compensate, unable to make it happen.

Suddenly, down below, he heard a series of gunshots going off, followed by screams.

No. Not here. Not now.

He continued attempting to adjust course, only to be pulled further away. In his attempts to divert his fall, the wind caused his arm to become tangled in the parachute's cord. He was only several meters away from the ground by this point, and he was on a course to land through a hole in the thatch roof.

As he tried to become untangled, the wind only made it worse, wrapping the cord around his head.

His feet came through the gap in the roof, and he could now tell that the gunshots were coming from inside the building. He could see a Marine firing a Thompson at a couple of undead IJA troops, clearly afraid for his life, while several scientists fled down a set of stairs.

As Peter braced for landing, there was a sharp tug at his neck where the parachute cord had wrapped itself around him.

Peter began flailing his legs wildly, trying to find a surface to stand on, but being suspended in the air by his neck, only a few feet away from a brother in arms. The parachute itself had become caught in the wooden beams above him, and showed little sign of breaking.

Peter gasped for air, his face turning purple, and his one arm reaching out towards the Marine to beg for help. He could not call for help, the cord constricting his windpipe.

The Marine suddenly turned, his eyes wide in shock, before being pounced on by an undead scientist, which bit into his face as he screamed.

Peter McCain did not struggle for much longer, as he began to lose feeling in his body, and a cold chill ran up his spine. His mind had gone from sheer panic to a cold, brief ecstasy as his life faded. In his last moments, Peter heard a voice talking to him. It was a little girl, not his daughter Mary, but someone else. She was German.

"It's going to be okay, Peter, I promise… Your family will remember you as a hero, und so will I… I know you will never give up. Don't worry: Death is not the end."

Epilogue: Rebirth

37°14′06″N 115°48′40″W

Cornelius Pernell

October 26th, 1945

So many men lost…

The past few nights had been a struggle for Cornelius. He could still hear their screams as they came through the radio; An entire platoon wiped out in just a matter of minutes. Just like that, their foothold at the Rising Sun Facility had been blown away. Since the OSS dissolved, Major Sawyer had been left to complete Operation Firebrand and have his men secure 935's outposts. They never stood a chance against the hordes. Not at Shi No Numa, not at Verrückt, and not at Nacht der Untoten. Despite the failures, Sawyer is adamant that there is still something to be gained from the remnants of Group 935. His promotion is staked on it.

Major Sawyer has platoons of Marines stationed near Der Riese, standing off against Soviets sent in to raid the facility and pillage what they can. No shots have been fired between the two yet, and both sides want to keep it that way. Sawyer says he has a plan to extract the survivors during the elongated negotiations with the Russians.

The Soviets seemed content to let the survivors at the site die, considering they had already taken everything they wanted. Their only goal now seemed to be keeping the survivors out of American hands. It will take several months of careful planning to pull this off. To make use of all the 115 present here at the Nevada Base, the US would need the brilliant minds of Group 935 backing their research.

Pernell descended to the storage facility below Hangar 18, typing in his secure code to enter the room. Finally surrounded by peace and quiet, he lit a cigarette, and leaned over the metal railing overlooking the spacious area. It was dark, so Pernell turned on the central ceiling light, revealing the crates full of black and blue rocks of Element 115; A deposit which had seen little study or use during the war.

Sawyer recommended that Pernell should join an assembly of operatives and government officials being sent to Group 935's secret castle facility in Austria, where a league of scientists hand-picked by Doctor Edward Richtofen would be waiting to defect to the United States. Cornelius looked forward to meeting some of these men who would be using the 115 at Groom Lake. Still by himself, Pernell raised a silent toast to Doctor Richtofen. An old friend.

The red phone mounted to the nearby wall began to ring, right as scheduled. Pernell put out the cigarette, placing the receiver to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Good morning, Mr. P. How is Nevada treating you?"

"Same old story. Dry wind and rocks in my shoes. So what's this meeting about?"

The voice on the other end was stern, "We simply wanted to thank you for your dedicated service to the Order during this war. Your loyalty to the Illuminati is unquestionable."

Pernell was taken aback, not expecting such a compliment, "Thank you… I want you to know… I appreciate the new position very much."

"Excellent. With such devotion to the cause, we foresee you climbing through the ranks of both the government and the Order."

"I… will do whatever is asked of me. I can see your vision of the world so clearly… What, then, is our next move?"

The voice paused for a moment, continuing, "For now, follow your orders and ensure that Doctor Richtofen's demands are filed and met to the letter."

Pernell paced around the dark area, "Should I inform Sawyer about his deal with the Soviets?"

"Not yet. In time, this revelation will come naturally."

"Why exactly are we helping the Doctor anyway? After abandoning his position and disrespecting the Order, surely-"

"Doctor Richtofen has a higher calling he must meet. His continued success is in the Illuminati's best interests."

Pernell made his stance known, "I hope you know what you're doing in trusting him… He is a self-proclaimed liar, after all."

After waiting a moment, the call ended abruptly, leaving a dial tone in the receiver. Pernell hung up the phone, returning to his position at the railing, looking over the deposit of 115. His 115.

The Illuminati was not what it once was. Or at least, its true nature was not revealed until Pernell had sufficiently gained their trust. Cornelius' operatives died because of their orders. Peter's blood is on their hands, not his.

As Pernell gazed into the pile of rocks, the blue spots of ore became so mesmerizing… so beautiful. Group 935 had so much potential for greatness, to change the world. It's no wonder that Edward left the Illuminati to pursue his work with 115. Maybe he had the right idea this whole time.

The blue sheen of the 115 was like an ocean, and Pernell's mind was being dragged deeper and deeper, as he was caressed by the penetrating, blue light.

With their scientists, it may finally be put to some use. But they will need leadership; Direction. Someone to steer the ship.

Maybe all those men didn't die for nothing. Maybe… just, maybe. One can dream.