Here we go, chapter two! I managed to crank this thing out in like, five days – which makes sense in its word count. I hope those who've looked at this are all enjoying it, because next chapter is where I'm gonna cliffhang you all on Helmuth's entrance into the realm of F/GO! So, buckle up for that as you wade through these first few chapters of exposition and world-building.
Not going to lie, I wanted to continue the chapter after the ending where it was, but cliff hangers bring in returning viewers, so it's a good hook in my book. Thanks to all of you who either favourited or followed the story in the first few days, I'm glad you all like it. I hope more join in as we continue along. Also, I would like to specifically thank "Naruto Tendo Rikudo" for favoriting and following literally a half hour after I posted the first chapter. I don't know what you saw in a fic posted in the F/SN fanbase that – so far – has nothing to do with the Nasuverse, but alright, you do you!
Now, onto the shenanigans.
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"What did you expect?" – Talking
'A war like no other?' – Thought
"Der Teufel selbst?" – Very bad Google Translate, or emphasis on speech
'Or just a bad dream?' – Written word
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It was two days later that saw Helmuth fully unpacked in his new home; his employers at GKI had graciously given him a whole week to settle into the residential zone known as Neo-Brunnhammer. In those two days, Helmuth had been greeted to the sight of the morning sunrise through his bedroom window, joined in the community sharecrop initiative on Heisenberg Strasse, had gotten familiarized with the immediate area, and had met his neighbors. To Helmuth, this was truly the new start his father had promised him: away from Wintermünster, away from the painful memories there, away from the things that he was sure had been corroding his soul.
And now, in Neo-Brunnhammer, Helmuth stood upon his balcony nursing a cup of ersatz and an aspirin to chase away the hangover from the previous night. He had managed to find himself an actual bar within walking distance of his apartment – the Gilded Saber – and had spent most of the evening there with other barflies. Surprisingly, only some of the regulars there were members of the Schutztruppen, the security force that were employed by GKI. It was rather interesting speaking with them, as they were only a couple of the people with actual insight into the whole place.
"The one thing you've got to be careful of," one of them had warned him, "are the doctors themselves. They're ultimately the ones running the whole show, although they want you to think the government is the one in charge. I've seen some spooky shit go down because one of those dinks decided he wanted to cut corners."
So, yeah; that was something to look to. Morally ambiguous scientists with enough capital and political clout to push around a small city. Best to stay on their good side.
Nevertheless, as he was pondering the inner machinations of the scientist community, his eyes turned to the northeast, where he got a pretty clear view into the crater itself. There, just barely in his field of vision, was what appeared to be a small warship. At a glance, it was old, of Yytuskian design, and not-so-surprisingly held aloft on steel girders, as there was no major body of water nearby for kilometers. Day in, and day out Helmuth could see scientists and workers scuttling aboard and around the vessel, tinkering about. What use an old warship would have in the arid badlands of Schärzis, he had no idea.
Sucking back the last of his ersatz coffee, Helmuth retreated back inside, ready for a nice day of relaxation, some possible video gaming on his PC, and possibly another outing to meet some more floormates.
With his back to the plate-glass windows, he missed the quite obvious flash of purple-green light emanating from one of the research buildings down in the crater.
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"I'm expected for an appointment, it should be under von Trotha!"
This was yelled into the face of an unresponsive, and uncaring, Unterwachoffizier standing just on the platform after you'd get off the cable car necessary to get down into the crater proper of Neo-Brunnhammer. The yeller, was in fact our stalwart pseudo-hero, Helmuth von Trotha, who, at the moment, was getting precariously close to being late to his orientation with the HR Manager at GKI proper.
"I'm sorry kid," responded the guard, "your SIN number isn't in the system, you don't have clearance. I'm going to have to ask you once again, get lost."
Helmuth fumed, fumbling around in his saddlebag. "Look, I got a written – and signed – order from Hauptdoktor Schiessman to report to them at exactly ten thirty hours, today," he began, retrieving the letter that had been handed to him by his father over a week ago. "And what time is it now? Ten twenty-one! I'm going to be late, and I should be listed as urgent somewhere!"
The guard let out a weary sigh, grabbing the letter from Helmuth's hand. Taking a quick glance at it, he finally let out a quiet curse and turned on his radio.
"Unterwachoffizier Tallman calling in, can I get Doktor Schiessman on phone line ten, bitte? There's a kid here with a letter or something."
There was a burst of static across the signal, and muffled speaking that Helmuth couldn't make out, but the guards eyes perked up at some of the words. The conversation continued on the other end for some time, a few minutes or so, before the guard finally motioned to Helmuth and turned off the radio.
"Alright," the Tallman stated, ushering Helmuth past him into the guard house, "sounds like you were actually legit. Now, follow me, I'll lead you to where you need to be."
The old guard quickly led Helmuth outside, straight towards the administration centre without even waiting for Helmuth's response.
Outside of both the stuffy guardhouse and loud cable car house, Helmuth was greeted with the large concrete walls surrounding the entirety of the institution, as well as the many facility buildings scattered around the crater.
Just ahead of the two was the main administration centre for the research community. Built out of concrete blocks like most modern buildings, the administration centre was the only building out of the dozen or so in the crater not to feature a mostly glass-and-steel design; inside the design of the building was a neo-modern look, making it look bland compared to some of the other buildings. Marble columns stood at either corner of the two-story building, and besides the entrance as well. Oxidized copper roofing gave the building an even more illustrious touch to it, almost making it pop out and say: I was here first, look at me! Still, it was nothing compared to the other futuristic looking buildings surrounding it.
Just behind the admin centre, towering over the small two-story building was what Helmuth guessed as the central research building. A towering pyramid of shimmering glass and steel, Helmuth could only gauge from the small bits he could see, as the administration stood in front of it. It was at least ten to twelve stories tall, with the top of the pyramid topped with what appeared to be either oxidized copper, or jade. On each floor Helmuth could see scientists working at terminals, or at large whiteboards. Around the fifth floor or so was a cafeteria from what he could see. Or maybe that was just a relaxation area where people could eat.
Other buildings caught his eye as he and the guard made their way to the front door of the administration building.
Off to his left was a barracks attached into the concrete barrier encircling the facility. This where the guards probably resided for the most part, as he had seen some around where he lived for the past week or so with their families. This one was probably just for single guys to bunk in.
And to the right was that strange dry dock where the warship was sitting. Work apparently was continuing on the forward main battery turret, and if Helmuth had to guess he'd put his money on the design of the ship as a –
"Alright, get your butt inside kid," came Tallman's voice, cutting into Helmuth's thoughts. "Someone in there should know what to do with you, I've got to get back to my post."
"Ah," Helmuth replied intelligently, "Thanks?"
A rather crass remark came back, causing Helmuth to wince, before silently slipping past the doors into the building. Here, he was met with a rather interesting change of environments.
While the outside of the administration building was dull, drab, and bland, the inside was anything but. Marble tiled floors, completed wood paneling across the walls, a stained-glass skylight above his head, and leather chairs and couches strew about what could only be the waiting room of the place. About halfway across the room was a large desk area, where Helmuth assumed was where the whole information desk would be. Behind that was a marble staircase going up towards the second floor, where scientists and plain clothed people walked about.
Closing his mouth that had gone agape upon seeing the absolute luxury of the place, Helmuth slowly made his way towards the front desk, looking at the smiling man watching his every step up towards him.
"Good morning sir, how can I help you?" The man asked politely.
"Uh," Helmuth started, "I'm looking for a way to get to Doctor Schiessman quickly. I have a meeting with them."
"Ah, yes. Mr. von Trotha!" The man announced joyfully, turning to his computer. "I got good news for you, your meeting has been bumped back an hour. I figured you'd need it seeing how you were caught up with Offizier Tillman."
Helmuth blinked. "I'm sorry?"
"It's about ten thirty at the moment, Mr. von Trotha," Came the reply with a chuckle. "I pushed the meeting back for both you and Dr. Schiessman, to give you time."
"Oh," Helmuth murmured. "Thanks Mister…?"
"H3-D7," the now introduced man – a synthetic, Helmuth's mind supplied – said. "And you're most welcome. You may refer to me as Hermann Dornier, or just Haitch-Three if you need to."
"Now, in regards to your appointment," he continued, "you'll need to head up the stairs behind me and head into Building A. You'll find Dr. Schiessman's office on floor eleven; A11-10. The doctor will be expecting you, so you can just head off now."
Helmuth hummed, "Thanks Hermann," before walking off, murmuring to himself, "Didn't know this was connected to the pyramid…"
Slipping his way into the mass of people moving about in A Building, Helmuth continued his way to where he thought the elevators might be. He was once again agape at the decadence of the interior decorations of the place, what with works of art on the walls, couches arranged in groups around coffee tables for relaxation, et cetera. If he were a member of the SAP – that is, a red-blooded communist – he would be frothing at the mouth at the amount of decadence shown before him. Instead, he continued to marvel as he shouldered his way to the elevators, glancing this way and that at the rest areas, works of art – paint-based or otherwise – and at the amount of people relaxing or working around him. The whole place was like a stock market, or an airport terminal filled with people nowhere to go.
Finally securing himself in one of the elevators, Helmuth quietly slapped the button listed for Floor Eleven, and settled himself amongst a dozen or so people also in the elevator. There was a scientist or two murmuring to themselves of in a corner, so Helmuth slyly lent an ear.
"… so, everything involved with the operation is being shelved for the moment, until the Heads get some more fresh bodies in." One commented, scratching at his chin.
"Sure, sure," the other one postured, "you guys get more guys for that operation, and yet we're still scraping by with funding for some of agricultural projects that're ongoing."
Scientist One scoffed. "Not my fault man. The project is the brainchild of the Director's grandfather, so of course it'll get more funding."
"Doesn't matter that you guys only got the thing running last year."
"Mm, true. But this has been in the works for a few decades Klaus, I think it's a matter of stubbornness at this point now that it does work. Anyways, here's my stop. See ya."
"Whatever," Scientist Two commented, waving his friend away as they got off.
And then suddenly it was just Helmuth, two guards, and three floors to go. And with each floor passed, Helmuth's anxiety increased. Upon reaching the eleventh floor, however, the two guards exited the elevator to the left, while Helmuth went right, following the signs to room A11-10.
Helmuth's travel to the room wound through several corridors, before finally ending up at a pair of double doors – mahogany – where he simply knocked.
Setting himself down one the couch across from the door, he sat there, waiting.
About ten minutes later, the doors in front of him opened inward, letting a pair of scientists out, and – who he assumed to be Dr. Schiessman – to let him in.
Politely thanking the man, Helmuth was startled when a chuckle from the corner of the room echoed out.
"Oh, my bad," the voice added, "I just wasn't expecting you to think that was me!"
Dr. Schiessman, to Helmuth's slight surprise, was a lady. Lithe, and shorter than he was by about half a foot, the doctor wasn't imposing by any means. She had he hair – chestnut brown – bundled up in a bun, while a small pair of rectangular glasses rested on the bridge of her nose.
Quickly finishing her drink, she made her way back to her desk, motioning for Helmuth to sit.
"Dreadfully sorry you thought Bernard was me," she began, settling comfortably into her chair, "I used to get that a lot when I was getting settled in. Anyways, welcome to Grosser Krater, we're glad to have you here Helmuth von Trotha. In all honesty, I was expecting one of your older brothers to show, even one of your father's closest allies, not yourself. But, this a welcome change."
She paused as the now-introduced Bernard sat a tray of tea on the table, before standing off to one side. Then, leaning forward to stare at Helmuth through her glasses, she began.
"Now, I'm sure you got some questions for me, but I got a couple things I need to run through here first. First off, what you'll be seeing, experiencing, and doing here is completely off the record. If you say, write, or record anything – anything at all – that's grounds for execution and your parents will just get a letter saying you were killed in an unfortunate accident. Everything you send to said parents, whether it be electronically or written, will be thoroughly vetted and censored to see if you're trying to send anything unlawful. I can – and will if need be – basically erase you from the records. You will cease to be if you fuck up."
"Second: there's a lot of projects ongoing here other than the one you'll be a part of. If, for whatever reason, you're called to help out with one of the projects, you will answer with a yes and try your damnedest. I've had a couple occasions where the people in your position were able to make breakthroughs elsewhere. So be useful if you're not doing anything on base."
"Third, and finally, your father and I are trusting you with quite a bit here. You're basically signing up for the hardest job here that will test your skills, as well as your will. You'll be working alongside war veterans with a lot more experience than you. You'll be pioneering the newest weaponry and equipment from GKI, and exploring places you've never seen before. So, in tune with the first thing, we need complete secrecy from you. No one, other than myself and the ones involved with the project, must know what goes on. Do you understand?"
"Yes ma'am," came Helmuth's automated response, too astonished to think.
"Good," Dr. Schiessman said calmly, withdrawing a folder from her desk and sliding it over to Helmuth. "This is the required paperwork you'll need to finish before you and I can head down to the place where you'll be working in. These forms are a more detailed version of that small speech I just gave you, and will require your initials at the end of each form."
"And then I get to see just what my father got me into then?" Helmuth asked, putting pen to paper, barely looking through the documents. "Uh, I'll be getting like, benefits as well right?"
"Your own personal weaponry if you so choose," she began, listing off her fingers, "access to advanced weaponry and prototypes, full-scale healthcare in case of any bits get blown off, et cetera. Regular stuff guys in your position would get."
"About that," Helmuth replied, "what, er, what exactly is this position I'm in?"
Dr. Schiessman merely looked at Helmuth like he had grown a second head, before slowly uttering "Did no one inform you what the job you were applying for was?"
"No."
"No?"
"No ma'am," Helmuth answered. "Everyone just kept saying 'oh yeah, here's your new job, and all the stuff that's required of you', but not what the job itself was."
"Oh," came Schiessman's intelligent reply.
"Yes, oh."
There was a bit of an awkward silence as Helmuth finished signing all the legal documents, before Dr. Schiessman spoke again.
"Well then," she began, taking the documents from Helmuth's hand, "I suppose I ought to take you to where you need to go, and then explain everything."
"Why not right here?"
"Too many ears unfortunately," came her immediate response, "I'd much rather talk about Project Arcadius in the safety of it's walls."
Helmuth could do nothing but shrug. What was a few extra minutes of waiting to figure out just what the fuck he was doing.
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It was around twenty minutes later that saw Helmuth, Dr. Schiessman, and Bernard finally stood within the confines of G Building, taking an elevator down several floors to the sub-basement level nine. While it didn't bother Helmuth much, they would've gotten there ten minutes faster, but it seemed everyone had something to say or ask to Dr. Schiessman, so they were stopped a couple of times.
Now though, Helmuth would be getting to the bottom of just what the heck was going on.
Apparently, G Building had been constructed solely for this Project Arcadius, which sat several meters below the earth in a reinforced bunker of sorts. Something about the radiant radiation that the project gave off every time it was booted up. The first floor was rather asinine, a small entrance, cubicles, and other necessities for scientists to use. The basements levels going down ranged anywhere from weapon ranges, a full-on repair shop, a small vehicle bay with motorcycles and armoured cars, and finally sub-basement nine, where the trio was at now.
Stepping out after Dr. Schiessman, Helmuth marveled at the rows of computers sitting in front of plate glass windows. Beyond that was a lowered room – possibly sub-basement ten – with what looked like a large ray gun pointing down from the ceiling to a platform.
"This is the Hive," Dr. Schiessman began, turning around to face Helmuth, "this is the center of Project Arcadius. It is here where you'll be monitored on your travels in your squad, and it is this place which will be your last connection to this world on duty."
Helmuth gave pause, looking to Dr. Schiessman who held a sickening grin on her face.
"On duty… On duty where exactly?" He asked, fearing the answer.
"Oh, off-world of course." Came the almost nonchalant reply from the Doctor. "Project Arcadius isn't about making our world better. It's about exploring others; the exploration of realms outside our own. Welcome to the programme young Helmuth, hope you'll enjoy your stay here."
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Well there we are. Three thousand words just in time for Canadian Thanksgiving Day! I finished cranking this out around 12:30 a.m. on Thanksgiving Day morning, for about 3,181 words including some of the page breaks. Not the eight thousand of the first chapter sure, but I wanted to get this out so I could relax Thanksgiving evening, let everything sit you know?
Well anyways, next chapter will see Helmuth's first and second deployment in Project Arcadius, the other three in his soon-to-be four-man squad, and some more exposition about the world of Helmuth von Trotha.
Don't forget to follow if you're new, or give me a review if you like it enough or got any questions! I'll gladly answer any you guys and gals got!