CHAPTER 58: INGLORIOUS BASTARDS, PART 2

As the morning sun scorches the cursed Earth known as Hellwood, another long day of torment comes to an official beginning for its prisoners. Those who manage to wake from their short nights of sleep, some never waking at all and finding some release to this place, and never sleeping at all from insomnia seeping into their brains, the prisoners of Hellwood all stumble to their feet to start a new day in one way or another; some merely scavenging for means to survive, others predators seeking prey.

The city was once a melting pot, but it has now blown to pieces with its many ingredients within scattered and separated. Here, they may separate themselves as the Europeans, the Middle Easterns, the Hispanics, the Asians, and the Africans; each of different descent and heritage, but no one, not even themselves, can deny where they are:

This is hell on Earth, and they are here to stay.

Regardless, there is one man who seeks to bring change to the state of his city. Remembering a time when this land was once known as Hillwood, a city of peace and prosperity, he seeks to see that dream realized once again, and end the pain of the prisoners of Hellwood.

This man is Arnold Shortman, known better to the world as the Green Eye.

The previous day, mere hours ago for him, he had done battle with one of his closest allies turned enemy: Buckley Lloyd, also known as Valiance.

Having lost the last remnants of family that he possessed, the mind of Buckley Lloyd could no longer hold up to the insanity of Hellwood, declaring that no life in the city was worthy of living any longer. As such, he began a one-man campaign to eliminate all life in Hellwood in a delusional way of righting all perceived wrongs.

Standing up to his one-man omnicide, the Green Eye defeated him with the help of the mysterious Baise-Moi, while also managing to bring him back to reason and persuading him to no longer end life indiscriminately. However, in that one victory, the Green Eye has found one new trouble in his agenda:

In trying to sway Buckley Lloyd back to reason, the way in which he has convinced him to stop killing has brought such an enormous amount of guilt over him that he can no longer bring himself to continue on. Having no more family and no more purpose to continue, he has become comatose and can no longer will himself to carry on any longer in the war for Hillwood.

Despite suffering an immense beating from his opponent, the Green Eye still will not treat him as an enemy or less of a person for his misdeeds. Taking a jar of fruit puree in his hand, he scooped out a serving of the mush, placing it in Buckley's mouth to provide him with sustenance that he would not need to consciously chew on.

Following a heavy workout to keep himself in shape, Harold stepped into the room to obtain himself a snack, passing by the Green Eye as he continued to care for the comatose Buckley. Finding no amusement in the act of compassion, Harold shook his head in disbelief.

"The man killed dozens of people and tried to kill you, and you still treat him like this?" Harold asked.

"Like what? A human being?" Green Eye replied.

With no reply to be given to the Green Eye's remark, Harold continued to move on to his snack, selecting a protein shake following his workout. Downing the chocolate-flavored beverage, he allowed a heaping dose of protein make its way to his body, supplying it with the nutrients to recover from his strenuous activity.

"Then what are we going to do now? All we have left on our side is a sociopath and a junkie. Not a lot to work with." Harold said.

"Sid was one of your best friends. There's no excuse to call him that, and I thought you'd be better than that." Green Eye said.

"I know when people are too far gone, and I'm willing to admit it, even if I care about that person. I've got no reason to care for Buckley at all. If it weren't for him, none of us would be in this situation."

"We're past blame and guilt at this point, Harold. The best thing we can do now is try our best to stick together and move on."

"And that's supposed to make the people that've suffered already feel better? About all the losses they've suffered?"

"No. But we can do our best to prevent any further loss. That's all we can do."

Unswayed by Arnold's arguments, Harold gave a scoff.

"What are you doing, man? What's the point of all this playing Jesus crap? Is this your way of trying to make yourself better than us?" Harold asked.

"We've been over this. I told you before, I'm not trying to be better or superior. I'm just doing what I believe in doing." Green Eye said.

"But you don't know why your way is the right way. You never answered that."

"There isn't one. We all try to do what we believe is right."

"If that's the case, then why waste your time trying to change my mind if you believe that I believe I'm doing what I think is right? I could just as easily argue that I believe that I'm in the right and you're in the wrong."

"Because your way results in ending lives, innocent or not."

"Ending Nazi lives. Let's not mince words."

"So because they hold a certain set of beliefs, they deserve to die? That makes them inferior? Doesn't that sound familiar in this context?"

"Oh, you are so not going to compare me to a Nazi. They killed 6 million of my people decades ago, they don't get to be the victim."

"Funny. I remember a time in your life when you didn't even consider yourself that much of a Jew or shared any identity with 'Jewish people', as you say now. Back when you were in school with us, you couldn't care less about your own religion."

"I stepped out from my faith years ago, but I've redevoted myself again. You know that."

"And I also know why you did that. You of all people should remember the most; who was it that I saved on my first night as the Green Eye? It was you. Working for 'Big' Gino."

"I was forced back into doing work for him. You know that."

"Forced back into it. You worked for him before."

"I made a mistake then, but I saw that I was doing something wrong, and you helped me to-"

Finally having an epiphany of the point that the Green Eye was making to him, Harold stopped in his speech, unable to argue his point any further. Realizing that he came to a defeat in the argument, he turned away from the Green Eye, putting his focus back on his protein shake.

"I rest my case." Green Eye said.

"Whatever. The important thing is, we've got the Nazis and the terrorists to deal with left, and not a lot of people left on our side to fight. Now what?" Harold asked.

"Now that I've fed Buckley, I'm going back home. I haven't gotten to spend time with Helga and my parents for awhile, so I'm going to do that now."

"So, what, you're just going to walk away at a time like this? Leave us doing nothing?"

"We could use some breaks every once and a while, especially now to take care of the people we love. Maybe you could take this time to finish that letter you've been meaning to send to 'Big' Patty."

Stepping away and making his way out of the base, the Green Eye left Harold to contemplate the suggestion. On top of remembering all the failed attempts to send a good letter, the final point left with him had challenged his philosophy in a personal and interesting way, one that left him unsure of an answer.

Taking out of his pocket another of his failed letters, he examined the content on it, finding no pleasure or pride in the words he wrote on it. Moreso than ever, following the point left by the Green Eye, he even finds the final message left within to be even less appealing and the purpose of his letters gone.

Crumpling up the letter, Harold tossed it aside, putting it out of his mind.

In response to the white ethnostate of the Aryan Nation, there exists a province of Hellwood known as New Mecca, built around the ghettos of the Danger Zone. Sharing no affiliation with the Freak, it remains the largest province in Hellwood to do so and is considered one of the most powerful forces on the island, short of Old Hillwood.

Despite being unaffiliated with the Freak, and, by being opposed to the Aryan Nation, is a de facto enemy of the Freak, it is not free of its own sins as a nation. Being opposed to the Aryan Nation in any way it can, whites are not allowed residence in the nation, relegating it to solely blacks and other dark-skinned ethnicity.

The leader of this province is a man named Marquis Ronaldson, who fuels much of this racial tension and segregation. Having suffered a loss of his father as a young boy to police officers, and seeing the same men who murdered his father walk free with no semblance of justice, he has had no positive view of whites or trust in government.

After the Fall of Hillwood, he was quick to assembling a nation of his own with almost all black individuals in his newly-formed government. Taking to the teachings of Malcolm X prior to his departure from the Nation of Islam and other black nationalists, he takes no chances against the perceived enemy of the white man.

He is an angry young man, and ruthless in his command.

That being said, he is still human, and he still has his own human emotions. One of those emotions is love, and has a love strongly seeded within his wife, Holly. Taking a look out the window of his home with a rifle in his hand, paranoid that some threat would come his way and the way of his wife, the latter of the two stepped to the former, putting her arms around him.

"Honey, what are you up to now?" Holly asked.

"Just keeping an eye out. I got a bad feeling." Marquis said.

"Marquis, you've always got a bad feeling. We're out here in our own little slice of heaven, ain't nobody gonna bother us here."

"Those white devils just above our borders have other plans."

"We'll be just fine. They're too focused on other things to worry about us. Besides, if they try anything, we've got the Green Eye to help us."

"The Green Eye? Don't make me laugh, Holly. There's nothing that he can offer us that we need. We'll be fine on our own. We don't need the white man to help us."

"That white man helped take back a good portion of Old Hillwood, the same people that do nothing but try to give us food like they do everyone else."

"With our luck, that food's been poisoned, or they're just sending us their crumbs."

"Marquis, when are you going to get over yourself? I know your lost your daddy, and I'm sorry how you lost him, but not every white man is out to get you. You're no Malcolm X or whoever you think you are."

"I know who I am. I'm a black man, I'm your husband, and I'm here to protect my people. Is there a problem with that?"

"There is when you don't trust anyone else to help us. For god's sakes, Marquis, we're all struggling to grow and find food for ourselves. The Shortmans and Old Hillwood are more than willing to help us, but you won't let them."

"I'll say it again: We don't need the white man to help us. We can take care of ourselves. If we don't stand up for ourselves now, we'll never see our place in the world."

"If we don't get some help, we won't live to see that place, whatever you think it is."

Dissatisfied with the conversation between the two, Holly walked away to sit down, rubbing her temples in frustration. Feeling guilt for the pressure he had put upon her, Marquis stepped towards her, placing his rifle down to lay his hands on her. Despite his touch being gentle and calm, Holly rejected his hands, striving to be alone.

"C'mon, Holly, what's the matter? You know I'm just trying to keep you safe. I'm not a man who takes chances." Marquis asked.

"Oh, I know that. Even though I disagree with you a lot of the time, I know you aren't trying to hurt anyone. I'm just still worried sick about little Charlie. Did we have to take him and put him somewhere else? You go on and on about how this place is safer than anywhere else, but you hid him out in the middle of nowhere?" Holly asked.

"I had to make sure that nobody else knew he existed or where to find him. You know that."

"But he's all alone out there."

"No, he's not. He's with your mother, and dozens of guards all around him. There's no chance anyone could get to him. I wouldn't leave him there if I wasn't completely sure that he was safe. Come here."

Taking his wife into his hands, Marquis embraced her tightly to quench her fears, reassuring her of their son's safety. Hesitant at first to his show of affection, Holly gave into her husband's hug, returning the embrace and letting her insecurities melt away out of herself and into him.

Their hug seems to last a long while for the two, but it does not last that long in the real world, as they are given a reminder of its existence outside of each other. A knock at the door sounded in their house, prompting them to step to it, but not before Marquis reobtained his rifle.

Opening the door, Marquis was met with a fellow citizen of New Mecca, bringing him bad news with a sour face to couple it.

"What's wrong?" Marquis asked.

"It's the Aryan Nation. They've sent us a message." The citizen said.

"What message?"

"He's here to deliver it himself."

Stepping outside to the street, Marquis found that the message was brought with a lone messenger; a naked white man, dressed in nothing but the American flag wrapped around him, standing in the middle of multiple black men at gunpoint. In his hands was a Christmas present; a stereotypical box wrapped up in shiny red wrapper with a golden bow on top.

Unamused by the comedic gesture, Marquis scowled at the enemy standing before him and the act, aiming his rifle at the Aryan with no hesitation.

"What do you want?" Marquis asked.

"I'm looking for Marquis Ronaldson." The Aryan said.

"That's me."

"I have a gift for you, Mr. Ronaldson. On behalf of Wolfenstein and the Aryan Nation. You should take pride in this gesture, you're the first nigger we've given any diplomacy like this."

The utterance of the hated 'N' word brought a wave of anger to the surrounding gunmen, each sprouting a scowl upon hearing it, but Marquis Ronaldson was too far focused on the presence of a diplomat or any supposed gift to care about even the word he hated most. Instead, he returned the conversation back to its original point.

"What's in the box?" Marquis asked.

"It's Christmas Eve. Why don't you open it for yourself?" The Aryan asked.

Not chancing any threat of a bomb or whatever other manner of danger that might lie inside the box, Marquis instead ushered one of the gunmen to retrieve it, which he swiftly did. Taking the box from the Aryan and over to Marquis, the gunman opened it, placing himself between the box and Marquis to offer protection.

Upon opening the box, the gunman was appalled and disgusted by what he saw inside, retracting himself away from it and covering his mouth to keep from vomiting. Unsure as to what was laying inside the box for him, Marquis slowly walked his way up to the box, keeping his aim on the Aryan, while looking down to see what was inside the Christmas present.

Where the outside promised Christmas cheer and joy, what laid inside was a far cry from that promise.

Inside the box were the severed heads of Barry and Pamela, his grandfather and mother-in-law, alongside a sarcastic family photograph of Wolfenstein and his comrades holding a crying baby Charles. Written on the picture was text that gave an ultimatum and the threat of his child's death.

WE HAVE YOUR UGLY TAR BABY. SURRENDER NEW MECCA TO US AND WE'LL SPARE YOU AS OUR SLAVES. DEFY US AND WE'LL SLAUGHTER ALL YOU NIGGERS. The note read.

As Marquis looked to the note in rage and anxiety, fearing for the life of his infant son, the Aryan dug his fingers into his throat, enacting his gag reflex. With his natural reaction setting into place, he began vomiting all the contents of his stomach out into his hands, all to the confusion and disgust to those surrounding him.

The confusion came to an end when they saw him regurgitate a grenade into his hands, and disgust turned to panic when he pulled the pin. All in the area immediately hit the ground in panic, while the Aryan proudly threw up a Nazi salute with a smile, joyfully sacrificing himself for the nation he pledged allegiance to.

"SIEG HEIL!" The Aryan shouted.

At the end of his final salute and pledge to victory, the Aryan exploded under the blast of the grenade; chunks of his body being sent all across the area and ending his life in the instant of the blast. Getting back up from the blast, Marquis looked at the bloody crater that once was the Aryan Nation diplomat, feeling his fears turn even heavier from witnessing the fanaticism of the enemies that had his son.

"Marquis? What happened? What was that?!" Holly asked.

Rushing outside to investigate the loud explosion, Holly viewed the same spectacle of violence in the street, as well as the box with the severed head of her mother and grandfather-in-law, and the damning photograph with the demand written on the paper.

Devastated and in despair at the situation they were in, Marquis and Holly held each other tightly, both falling to the ground in tears.

Soon, however, Marquis began picking himself up off the ground again, gripping his rifle tighter in hand as Holly clung to his leg.

"Then that's it, then. No more playing around with these white devils. The time for talk is over. We go to war." Marquis said.

Far away from this display of violence and terror is the Sunset Arms Boarding Home in Old Hillwood, the final remaining light of hope for everyone in the province. Serving as a hospital as well as a farm and food distribution center, the free offerings of food and healthcare to those in need have attracted many far and wide to Old Hillwood, and those many coming in need of their goods.

The Sunset Arms, run by Miles and Stella Shortman and a few capable volunteers, continue to give out their aide with little pause or complaint, but even they have their breaking points in the help they give. Fortunately, they have one more volunteer to help on this day, with his help doubling as spending quality time with their son.

That volunteer is Arnold Shortman, out of his alter-ego of the Green Eye and trying to help others in the old-fashioned manner as a man rather than in a fantastical and mythological way as a superman. Even as a man, he still possesses more stamina and drive than any other regular man on Earth, which makes him more than efficient to give help to the patients in the Sunset Arms.

One such example is the patient of a young boy named Noah, with a piece of glass stuck in his arm from helping his parents scavenge for food. His guardians were quick to rush him to the Sunset Arms to get him the needed help, and stay vigilant over him now to keep him calm and safe.

Taking a pair of tweezers to the wound, Arnold prepares to help the young Noah and remove the glass. The promise of having a pair of metal tweezers go into his arm and extract the glass brings him fear, and much of that fear is let out on the vice-tight grip he keeps on his mother's hand, but more remains in his quivering breath.

"I don't want to have the glass taken out. It's gonna hurt." Noah said.

"I know it's not going to feel good, but I need to get it out before it hurts you more. Keeping it in could cause a lot of problems, and I don't want that to happen to you." Arnold said.

"But... the tweezers look scary."

"I know, but it's not that bad. You'll feel better when I get the glass out."

"I don't know..."

"Hey, it's okay, buddy. You're gonna be okay. I promise, okay?"

"...Okay."

"What's your name?"

"Noah."

"You like music, Noah?"

"Yeah."

"You like Dino Spumoni?"

"Isn't that the guy who did those old beer commercials?"

"Heh. Yeah, but that wasn't what he was really known for. He was a jazz musician, one of my favorites. You wanna hear?"

Arnold pulled his prized Walkman out of his pocket, holding an audio cassette inside. Never having seen an object like this before, Noah looked to it with uncertainty.

"What's that thing?" Noah asked.

"It's called a Walkman. Back when I was a kid, we didn't have any MP3 players or smartphones to listen to our music to. This thing inside is called an audio cassette. It has the music on it, and the Walkman plays the music off it." Arnold said.

Arnold ejected the audio tape for Noah to see; the obsolete technology in use fascinating him from its use.

"Whoa. This thing must be really old, huh?" Noah asked.

"It is now, but it helps to look at things from the past sometimes. It gives us a place of where we are now in time. Here, why don't you have a listen? This is one of his popular songs." Arnold said.

Placing the headphones to the Walkman over his head, Arnold pressed the 'PLAY' button to the Walkman, playing back the selected track of 'Smashed'. Hearing the sounds of brass and piano fill his ears with the sounds of jazz music, Noah felt suddenly at peace; calm under the soothing sounds of the song.

"Darling, you left my heart

In pieces on the floor

So tell me why shouldn't I

Break some things of yours?

I'll smash your lamp, the antique chair

That stupid thing you always wear

I'll smash a vase, the radio

Those little teacups from Limoges

Your wacky paintings on the walls

Darling, pow, I'll smash 'em all

Lover, it's just a game

Cupid can take the blame

I'll take the place apart

But don't worry, I won't smash your heart..." The song played.

Before the song could even come further down its playback, Arnold held up the extracted piece of glass in front of Noah, revealing that his work was done.

"There. Not so bad, was it?" Arnold asked.

"Hey... I didn't even feel it!" Noah said.

"Yeah. That's the power that music can have on you. Pretty neat, isn't it?"

"Yeah! Mr. Arnold, do you think I borrow your music a little longer?"

"Sure. Just please be careful with it, okay? This tape is very special."

Arnold once again ejected the tape, revealing a signature written on it. The signature belonged to none other than Dino Spumoni himself, much to Noah's surprise.

"Wow! He really signed it?" Noah asked.

"Yep. I've met him a few times, he's a real nice guy. Matter of fact, he even got his start in music right here at the Sunset Arms." Arnold said.

"Really?"

"Really. I've got some other stuff to take care of now, I'll check back with you later, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks again, Mr. Arnold."

Sending the child on his way to receive stitches for his wound, Arnold took his instruments to be cleaned up and sterilized for further use. Catching eye of his kind deed to the young Noah, Stella Shortman, the mother of Arnold and head doctor of the Sunset Arms, laid kind hands upon his shoulders to show appreciation for his actions.

"You're always so sweet with kids." Stella said.

"Well, you've always got to be with kids. But I do like making kids happy." Arnold said.

"Your father was not so different when I met him. That's how I knew he was going to be a great father."

The implication of his mother's statement brought a sense of anxiety to him, remembering of the life growing in Helga as he knew it. For all the insanity that faced him in the outside world of Hellwood, never had he stopped to think over the prospect of being a father, much less to have Helga as that child's mother.

Feelings of joy gave some warmth to his heart, but his elated emotion came back down just as soon as it went up, as visible in his face.

"Hey Arnold? What's wrong?" Stella asked.

"It's just... You know, Helga." Arnold said.

"Hmm? What about her? Is something wrong?"

"You know. She's... she's pregnant."

A slight gasp began to draw from Stella's breath, showing some measure of surprise from the fact.

"O-Oh. Oh! She... she told you this?" Stella asked.

"Well, yeah. That's usually how guys find out their girls are pregnant, mom." Arnold said.

The two shared a brief laugh from Arnold's snarky joke, the moment of levity returning between the two.

"But, funny enough, she was trying to keep it a secret. She only told me when the women's clinic called the house. She confessed then, but I assumed she told you while I was gone." Arnold said.

"No, she didn't." Stella said.

"Hmm. Well, now you know. I just hope more than anything, we'll be able to set things right before the baby's here. I wouldn't want to have my first kid come into a world like this."

"Don't worry, baby. I'm sure we'll all set things right in no time. You've been doing a good job of everything so far."

"Yeah, well... I'm just doing my best."

Remembering of the time in which he had obtained the knowledge of Helga's pregnancy, Arnold could not help but return back to more uncomfortable feelings once again. The feel of his hand laying against her face with malicious intent and the wince of pain that came from her haunted him, bringing him guilt from the unforgivable act.

Though unaware of the context, Stella still recognized a sour face when she saw it, and tried to correct it.

"Hey, what's wrong now?" Stella asked.

"It was... It was a mistake I made with Helga." Arnold said.

"Mistake?"

"I... I hit her."

Not believing the information she was given from her own son, knowing her to be far more calm and peaceful, Stella gave a shocked gasp.

"Are you serious?" Stella asked.

Arnold nodded.

"But why would you do that?" Stella asked.

"She was asking me to train her to fight against Curly and everyone else and I wouldn't let her. It turned into a fight, I said something that I really shouldn't have said, Helga said something that she didn't want to say, either, and..." Arnold trailed.

"Oh, no... Did you apologize?"

"More than that, on the night I came back. It still doesn't feel like enough. I... I still can't believe I... Mom... Do... Do you feel like I don't love you?"

"What?"

"Do you or dad feel like I don't love you? Like I don't care about you?"

"Of course not, Arnold. Why would you think that?"

"When I accused Helga of being just as bad as her own parents, she said that to me. That I abandoned you when I ran away all those years ago, and I didn't care that you loved me and were trying to help me."

"Oh, no, no, no, sweetie. We don't blame you for that at all. You were going through a rough time, and there wasn't enough we could do to help you. You were just starting to become a young man, your grandparents had left us, and you were just getting used to us being back. That's a lot for someone to take in, even for you."

"I still don't feel right about it. I've never liked hurting anyone on purpose at all. I left you and Helga for half a decade, and the rest of this city as well. It's just... It's just hard."

"I know, Arnold. Just remember, I'm here for you if you need me."

Staying close to Stella, the mother and son held tightly together, sharing a close embrace to wither away what fears or insecurities that laid between the two. Getting to feel himself close to his mother, a privilege that he had been denied most of his childhood, Arnold feels more fulfilled in holding her now.

As sweet as the embrace is, however, it eventually must come to an end with the bringing of bad news. Stepping inside the Sunset Arms was the other of the two Shortman parents, bringing back cases of undelivered food meant to be delivered to New Mecca. Viewing the cases that he brought back, Stella felt a sense of disappointment, wishing that the food would be accepted.

"Aw, they still didn't take the delivery?" Stella asked.

"No, but there's something worse than that now." Miles said.

"What? What's wrong?" Arnold asked.

Urging the rest of the family into a secluded room, Miles brought the remaining Shortmans somewhere that his news could be spread quietly, wishing to be discreet.

"It took some serious asking, but it looks like New Mecca is trying to declare war on the Aryan Nation." Miles said.

"What? Why would they do that?" Arnold asked.

"From what I heard, Wolfenstein took the leader's son and he has him imprisoned somewhere in their territory. He was trying to use him as leverage against New Mecca to surrender, but they won't. They're trying to arm themselves up as we speak."

The Shortmans took this information heavily, letting the implications of a gang war set in their minds, but none took it more heavily than the Green Eye.

"Then I can't hang around here anymore. I've got to go and help to stop this." Arnold said.

Before getting ready to leave, Arnold was stopped by Miles, wishing to exchange one last word for him before leaving.

"Hey Arnold. Son. Wait a minute. I know I haven't been there a lot to give you advice, been able to help you be a young man like you are today, but... Can I... Can I just give you some advice? About the Wolfenstein and the Aryan Nation and all of them?" Miles asked.

"Uh, sure, what is it?" Arnold asked.

"Well, Arnold... There's no real easy way to say this, but... I know you try to see the best in people. I know you do, and we love you for it and we're very proud of you for it. But these are not people that you can reason with or convert with kindness. They're Nazis."

"Oh, no... Dad, please, I don't want to go over this, there's a-"

"Arnold, please, just listen to me for a minute. You know Phil, your grandfather, my father, fought in World War 2. He personally fought the Nazis during that time."

"Oh, come on, dad. He fed them a bunch of bad Cham and they got sick."

"That was just something he told you as a kid. He did... He did and saw worse things out there. He fought them personally. He told me stories about what he saw in Nazi Germany. He told me about how, with society rearranged to the narrative they wanted, the people of Nazi Germany could be the most sadistic and evil people on the Earth. He told me about concentration camps and death camps. He told me about the smell that came from those places, how horribly malnourished everyone inside looked, and how awfully everyone had died. He used to have nightmares about the bodies he would see, start to throw tantrums and yell at us. You didn't see that because you saw the best of him. He was always nice to you, and he took really good care of you. He managed to put on the best of himself for you. But I saw the worst of what it had done to him. I'm not asking you to do anything. I just want you to know this: If you have to kill any Nazis, just kill them. Don't hesitate, kill them. That's the best thing you can do for yourself or anyone else. And don't you ever, ever feel guilty about killing a single one. Because Phil told me about what just a single one of them was capable of doing, and the world is better off without them."

Arnold did not like the argument that his father was putting forth nor the proposal, but he knew that there was no wrong or hateful intent in his heart, at least one that was not justified. Feeling his own father's experiences from a WWII veteran for a father, seeing just what kind of traumas he had to go through, he understood that his place of argument was solely one of concern for others, and not pure evil.

Still, he could not agree with his position, and only gave a sigh in response.

"I'll appreciate that you wanted to tell me that. But I won't ever take a life. That much I swear." Arnold said.

Leaving his parents behind to the mission that befell him at last, Miles and Stella were alone once again, left in the wake of the heavy discussion that took place. The parents, naturally, cared much for their son and wished for him the best, but feared that his own optimism would be the end of him someday; a fate that they prayed would not come to pass.

Nonetheless, even with that thought in mind, Stella still had one last priority in her head. Needing to follow through with it, she dismissed herself from Miles to handle it.

"Uh, Miles, do you think you could help the nurses out with the patients for a bit? I have to take care of something in the garden." Stella said.

"Sure, sure. You want me to put the food back?" Miles asked.

"No, just leave it there. I'll handle it later."

With Miles making his way to the patients, Stella made her way up the stairs to the room fit for a king at the top, Arnold's room. Opening the door quietly and discreetly shutting it, she walked over to the bed to address the issue on her mind with the subject of the problem: Her future daughter-in-law, Helga Pataki.

Bandaging herself from a stab wound, Helga seemed to manage herself alright as far as first aid went, but she could not help but wince at her own efforts. Giving her services as both a mother and doctor, Stella fixed the bandage for her, securing it firmly in place and preventing any discomfort.

With the issue of the bandage out of the way, Stella finally addressed the main issue in her mind.

"You didn't tell him the truth." Stella said.

"No." Helga said.

"He's going to find out eventually. You can't hide something like this from him forever."

"I can try, just until he finally beats the Freak."

"This is still something he needs to know."

"He'll know when the time's right for him to know."

"And what do you think it's going to do to him when he finds out?"

Unhappy with the consequences implied by the question, Helga gave a sigh in discontempt.

"Let's just hope it doesn't come to that." Helga said.