"How could the Nazis do all of this?" Marc's stomach turned over uncomfortably, looking down at the comic panel that Nath had just finished coloring. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the mass of bulbous pustules covering one of the large figures reaching for the smaller figure with the single horn protruding from its helmet. A look of disdain spread across the monster's face.

Nath quirked an eye at him. "How could the Nazis do terrible things and perform horrifying experiments on their fellow human beings?"

Marc grimaced sheepishly. "I suppose that's a silly question," he admitted. "They did more than enough terrible things, regardless of what they did to these three."

Nath hummed in agreement. "Although, if you ever figure out the 'why' of it, be sure to let me know."

Miraculous Hero Key:

Alnamla – Ant Miraculous
Aimrat Shajaea – Wildebeest Miraculous
Zaeim Aljueran – Scarab Miraculous
Alqarn – Rhinoceros Miraculous

El Alamein, June 30, 1942

Alnamla broke into a sprint, giving a wide berth to the three monstrous Nazi… creatures, and raced across the hot sand toward the distant figures of the other three African Miraculous Heroes. Fifteen kilometers he had shadowed these Nazi beasts today – for that was the best word to describe them – ever since they had left the German Army camp east of Fuka, watching them the whole way to ascertain their plans. The three creatures had moved south, their jeep skirting the edge of the desert, until finally the hard stone below the layer of sand had given way and their wheels had become bogged down to greatly. One of their number had attempted to push the jeep out, only to give up after half a kilometer, forcing them to continue on foot. That had slowed them down, though not as much as Alnamla had expected. The smaller figure had driven the other two at a steady pace, refusing to stop for anything.

Alnamla's mouth set in a thin line. His reconnaissance had painted a very clear picture; he could only hope that they were up to the challenge. Popping a berry into his mouth, he muttered a few words before launching up into the air on a pair of translucent wings that caught and refracted the sunlight into a prismatic spray of color, soaring up into the sky and putting as much distance between himself and the Nazis as he could. Behind him, one of the Nazis turned its head to follow him, but Alnamla put on a burst of speed, arcing through the air toward the other miraculous users.

He had watched these monsters for close to a week, and still he could not bring himself to believe what he was seeing.

Catching sight of the others, just on the edge of the sands, Alnamla pumped his wings harder, pushing himself in their direction and angling to meet them. Finally, his feet sank into the hot sand as he landed directly in front of Aimrat Shajaea, catching her arm to regain his balance. She looked down at him, her confidence shifting into concern, and gripped his shoulder tightly. "Are you alright?" she asked him.

Catching his breath, Alnamla dismissed the wings and nodded. "They are coming," he reported, glancing back toward the desert. "If I had to guess, they plan to catch the Brits from the rear and do to them the same they did to the Indians at Fuka last night."

Arms folded, Zaeim Aljueran scoffed derisively. "Let them try. Then, they were facing infantry; now they will face us!" He glanced to the side at his companion, Alqarn, before turning back to Alnamla and Aimrat Shajaea, giving all three of them an evaluating look. "Everyone is clear on the plan, correct?"

Alqarn nodded firmly, unfolding his arms and leaning forward the slightest bit in a ready stance. "We are ready," he responded.

"Waiting on your order, Scarab," added Aimrat Shajaea, twirling her fly whisk around one finger.

Zaeim Aljueran placed a hand on her shoulder and gave a curt nod. "Thank you, for coming to fight alongside us now. I do not think we would have been able to repel these… atrocities… alone."

Aimrat Shajaea clapped him on the shoulder in return. "Of course. We would not abandon our friends in their hour of need. A threat to Cairo is a threat to us all."

The communicator in Alnamla's ear rustled with static. "Word is that the German tanks are less than fifteen kilometers from the British line at El Alamein," Initiate Haji reported. "The last of the British troops just arrived in their defensive positions, but they aren't set up yet. General Auchinleck is trying to get them set up before the Germans act, but he's expecting the attack to begin any moment. I'm… not sure why they haven't begun the bombardment, actually."

"Understood," Zaeim Aljueran answered him. "If our intel is correct, perhaps the Germans are waiting for these… what did you call them, Ant?"

"'Abominations' is one word for them," Alnamla supplied, pursing his lips. He shuddered. "I… still do not understand what they did to the Indians last night. Or how the Nazis created them."

"Frankly, I don't know that I want to know the answer to that question," Aimrat Shajaea told him, raising an eyebrow.

"Even so," agreed Alqarn, grimacing, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the horizon, trying to penetrate the sand cloud rising up to the west.

Zaeim Aljueran straightened his back, drawing himself up to the extent of his diminutive height, as the cloud of sand drew closer and the three figures at the front finally came into view. One, an enormous man with arms and legs the width of telephone poles and a massive chest, his face covered with the pockmarked scars of pustules, lumbered through the sand in the lead, the scattered stony patches within the sand thundering beneath his feet. Beside him was a man with long blond hair and twin scars running down his cheeks, his nose bent at an odd angle. The third, a smaller wiry man with a head almost the size of his torso, ran behind them, racing to keep pace with the other two. A quarter of a kilometer in front of the four miraculous heroes, the three men skidded to a halt, eyeing them with surprise.

"What the devil…" breathed Alqarn, giving the three a look of disgust.

"Was zum Teufel sollt ihr sein?" demanded the large man, glaring at Zaeim Aljueran.

"You will not pass!" declared Zaeim Aljueran, drawing his ankh and pointing it at the man. "Turn back to Libya and we will allow you to leave unharmed. Otherwise, we will defend ourselves!"

The scarred man scoffed. "Sie sind nichts als Hunde."

"Sie warden uns nicht aufhalten," the smaller man announced, pushing the large man forward.

Letting out a growl, the enormous man lumbered forward, building momentum as he ran, crossing the distance between him and the African heroes in a matter of seconds. Snorting, his lip curving into a snarl, Alqarn dropped down onto his hands and bounded forward, the horn on his helmet lowered and pointed at the behemoth.

"Rampage!" bellowed Alqarn, and a sheen thrummed around his horn. The tip of the horn emitted a white glow, and Alqarn accelerated, gaining momentum with each bounding leap. The distance between him and the Large Nazi shrank down to nothing. With a roar, Alqarn threw himself straight at the behemoth's chest, coming off the ground and throwing his horn forward.

The Small Nazi sneered. "Nicht so schnell," he called, and held his hand up, pointing toward Alqarn. Mere centimeters from impact, Alqarn froze in midair, unable to move. Hanging suspended, he swung his arms, scrabbling for purchase against the air, turning his head in either direction, a look of confusion evident on his face The Large Nazi let out a booming laugh, brought his fists together over his head, and slammed Alqarn down into the ground, stomping hard on his back and driving him down into the sand. Zaeim Aljueran's teeth clenched, his eyes narrowing. The Small Nazi continued to hold his hand steady, watching Zaeim Aljueran closely. "Sie sind unsere Zeit nicht wert."

"Alqarn!" shouted Aimrat Shajaea, racing forward and raising her fly whisk, cracking it over her head as she did so. The Large Nazi's eyes lit up maliciously, as the Small Nazi turned his attention toward her, narrowing his eyes and clenching his fist. Aimrat Shajaea's arms were pulled tight against her sides, and she froze midstride, one foot raised, glaring at them with utter contempt and loathing. "You… will… not… win… here!" she grunted out, flicking her fly whisk out at the Large Nazi as he stepped closer to her.

"Mind Fuse," murmured Zaeim Aljueran, his eyes taking on a purple glow as he turned his attention toward the Small Nazi and met his eye with a look of intense concentration.

Almost at once, Aimrat Shajaea dropped to the ground in a crouch and threw herself at the Large Nazi, as Alqarn pushed himself up out of the sand, brushed himself off, and jammed his horn into the Large Nazi's back. The Large Nazi let out a roar of pain, twisting his body in either direction and swinging wildly behind him toward Alqarn. The Scarred Nazi sneered, lunging forward and grabbing Alqarn by the leg and ripping him away from the Large Nazi's back. Alqarn pulled his arms in close and drove his free foot back into the Scarred Nazi's face, though without connecting.

Alnamla tensed, pulled out his grappling hook, and shot it around the Scarred Nazi's legs before giving a swift tug. The man stumbled off balance but somehow managed to keep his footing. His grip on Alqarn's leg loosened, and Alquarn contorted his body around in the man's grip. Waving his arms wildly, the Scarred Nazi hurled Alqarn at the Large Nazi's back, and he smacked into him and fell to the ground. The Large Nazi stumbled forward into Aimrat Shajaea, who jabbed him in the gut with her fly whisk and jumped backward before springing forward, inside the Large Nazi's reach, and elbowed him hard in the chest twice. With a growl of frustration, the Large Nazi brought his arms together, trying to catch Aimrat Shajaea in a bearhug, but she jumped out of his grip, drove her feet into his chest, and backflipped away from him, pushing him stumbling backward.

Behind the Large Nazi, Alqarn slowly shook his head and let out a groan, starting to rise back to his feet. Still caught in Alnamla's grappling hook, the Scarred Nazi stumbled in Alqarn's direction and kicked him in the back of the leg as hard as he could. Alqarn rolled over, overbalancing the Scarred Nazi, just before the Large Nazi took another stumbling step backward and landed on Alqarn's head. Alqarn's eyes went wide in shock, moments before his head disappeared. Struggling desperately, he kicked out wildly at the Scarred Nazi, scratched and clawed at the Large Nazi. The Large Nazi barely acknowledged his presence, dropping his other foot back and raising his arms to defend against Aimrat Shajaea. After a long moment, Alqarn's struggling stopped, and his arms and legs collapsed limp to the ground.

"No!" Alnamla gasped, his eyes widening in shock, staring at the ruined form of Alqarn, half-buried in the sand. Zaeim Aljueran remained motionless his eyes locked on the Small Nazi, seemingly oblivious to everything going on around them. Gritting his teeth, Alnamla retracted his grappling hook and fired it around the Large Nazi, tugging hard to dislodge him from Alqarn's body. At the same moment, Aimrat Shajaea lunged forward and caught the Large Nazi in a tackle, knocking him backward to the ground. Snarling in rage, Aimrat Shajaea drove her fists into the Large Nazi's face, over and over again as he tried to protect himself from her relentless assault. Retracting his grappling hook, Alnamla turned his attention to the Scarred Nazi, who was just pushing himself up to his feet. Catching the cord around the Scarred Nazi's torso, he pulled lower and stamped his foot on the cord, dragging the man back down onto the ground. The Scarred Nazi looked up, spotted Alnamla, and smirked. Grabbing the rope himself, he gave it a sudden jerk, pulling Alnamla to the ground himself.

Aimrat Shajaea raised her fists above her head to bring them down into the Large Nazi's face, but the Large Nazi anticipated the move and bucked her off, rolling over onto his back and rising to his feet before she could react. With a frustrated growl, Aimrat Shajaea smacked the Large Nazi with her fly whisk, and he backed away, hands lifted defensively. Chasing after him, she turned as the last minute as she passed the Scarred Nazi and spun around, kicking him as hard as she could in the face and knocking him to the ground. "Iron Forge!" she bellowed, a dark blue sheen covering her body, and threw a series of punches and kicks at the Large Nazi. The man took each hit without flinching, until he grabbed her around the waist, holding her tightly. With a gasp, Aimrat Shajaea gritted her teeth, grabbed onto his arms, and pulled, wrenching one arm out of the socket. The man leaned in closer and sneered, grabbing her head with his other hand and squeezing. Aimrat Shajaea clawed desperately at his hand and let out a cry of pain, just before her head popped.

As the Large Nazi released her body to fall limp into the sand, Alnamla gasped, looping his grappling hook around the Large Nazi's throat and jumping to drag him up into the air, swinging him around by the neck and dropping slamming him down into the prone form of the Scarred Nazi. With a rending crunch, the Large Nazi's neck snapped; below him, the Scarred Nazi moved no more Still Zaeim Aljueran and the Small Nazi stared into each other's eyes, until Alnamla snagged his grappling hook around the Small Nazi's throat, pulling tight. Zaeim Aljueran collapsed to the ground, gasping as he opened and closed his fingers in the sand. The Nazi's head spun completely around, nearly severed from his neck, and he dropped, eyes staring sightlessly up into the sun. Looking around the battlefield at the bodies of his friends, Alnamla's shoulders sagged and he dropped to his knees, closing his eyes and turning his head up toward the sun.

They had won.