Disclaimer: Halo and the Wolfenstein series DO NOT belong to me. They're owned by their respective owners and the only thing to my name is possible OC's and this story.

Author's note: Finally completed Wolfenstein: New Order so now I should be able to do the first arc of the series. As it turns out, for Wolfenstein 2: The New Colossus is going to be harder to work with. In New Order you could replay the chapters which made it very easy to rewatch cutscenes, study how the characters acted, and watch events unfold. New Colossus is just one big playthrough with saves like Fallout. Only allows you to replay AREAS that you've been through which you have to unlock with enigma codes. No cutscenes, different enemies, and enemy layout. That'll be a bitch to do. I'll have to do a lot of manual saves. I'm just worried how many saves it'll take before the game refuses to save. Or my xbox decides to explode... that would suck.

On another note, life and college is going hit hard on my schedule so don't hold your breath on chapters coming out soon or on a daily basis. I may upload one out once in a while, but consider the story on hiatus for now.

Also, Happy 4th of July! (Fuck! I wanted to do a July 4th special, but the story isn't where I want it to be yet. I don't want to spoil anything. Fuck it, I'll do a late special once the story progresses enough. If you guys have any ideas to go about it, pm me)

Anyway, enjoy.

"Internal monologue"

"Regular speech"

"Foreign language translated"

... (Scene break and switch to another scene)

- (Scene break, but revolves back to the same scene if that makes sense)

"Who are you?" A rude awakening by gunfire. Hands on the wheel. The officer's dead body tumbling across the road. Distance increasing.

"My name is William J. Blazkowicz. Ranger. Army. U-eh-A. USA. I'm sorry, my Polish isn't good." Racking the slide of the 'borrowed' rifle. Blazkowicz watched the body roll to a still in the distance.

"No! No!" Blazkowicz's fist crashed into Kellers face after his failed escape attempt from the trunk.

"And they grieve for their dead. Such raw sorrow." Olenka Targonski's aged hands kept battering Keller's unconscious form as she continuously sobbed louder in Anguish.

"Can't partake. Mine would flood oceans." William couldn't help, but feel a pang of remorse as he held Keller up for his unfelt beating.

"It's 1960." At first disbelief.

"It's 1960?"

"Yes." Anya Oliwa along with her grand parents confirm.

"It's no more war." The Old man, Roman Targonski, butts in; Blazkowicz's line of questioning for contacting the US military impeded. The feeling of dread grew more. "They won." The old man grew more frustrated, more at the helplessness of the situation than the American.

"It's over. The Nazis rule the world now. They are everywhere. Everywhere." The older woman declared softly after.

"They surrendered?" That couldn't be... The US wouldn't surrender...

"Atom bomb." A boom display from the old man. Atom bomb?

"They surrendered 12 yours ago when Nazis atom bombed their country." Anya dropped the atomic-bombshell.

Silence settled in the room. Disbelief led to deniability. Deniability led to acceptance of reality. Bubbling anger evolved into conviction.

"Well, then I'll find the resistance." Mind concluded and fierce resistance. Oliwa denying there being anymore resistance. Any alive would be captured. Their location unknown.

"Good thing, I have a way." The American stood up from his seat, politely pushed the chair in its proper place, and disappeared into the basement shutting the door behind him. Olenka a second behind, hand lifting the pike and settling onto the phonograph of the record player. A delightful tune drifting from the speakers. The aged hand then landed on the volume know and turned it all the way up.

...…...…...…...…...…...…...…...…

"Why did you kill him?!" The scream painful to the Spartan's ears. Briefly overtaking any outside noise.

"I didn't. I gently kicked him."

"Gently?!" The A.I. fumed. Well... as gently as a spartan can in that situation.

"Focus. I'll explain later. We need an escape route." A sigh came from the speakers.

"I trust you Chief, but you better explain for attacking." With that a NAV-point popped up above him. "I need you to go higher so I can see what we're dealing here."

Gunfire whizzed and missed as Chief turned left at a t-junction. Bullets embedding into the wall. Aiming his left arm to the edge of a rooftop. The grapple shot out and latched into the concrete. The powerful winch already propelling him. Increasing the distanced already gained from his pursuers. Grabbing the edge he-

"He's on the rooftops!"

Vaulted over, grappling hook already receded in place. The higher elevation gave a better view of the city he was in. Large highways snaked through the city and disappeared over the horizon. He jumped across an alleyway and onto the next roof. Another grapple and a swing brought him to the NAV-point. The building stopped at the edge of a five-lane street. People obliviously passing by on the sidewalk and their cars. He stopped to observe the landscape more freely. Large buildings as far as the his eyes could see.

Some even larger as if size denoted their worth. Red banners doted the gray landscape. A big domed building towered over the city to his... the suit received the electrical impulse and displayed arrows along the outer edge of his motion tracker... northeast.

"Chief look." Objects that essentially covered the city had their outlines highlighted into a bright red. Cameras... and a lot of them. Some of them focused on him now. That explains that pincer maneuver.

"I found a route we can at least escape,..." Another NAV-point materialized. Street level. Roughly 450 meters east. "...but we'll need to take care of those cameras first. Here." Another NAV-point. 200 meters ahead inside the building across the street.

"Bring me to this hub and I'll do the rest."

Shifting back to the far edge the building, he planted his right foot right on the edge and his left foot forward. He ran, the edge already coming up in a blink of an eye. His leg muscles coiled and uncoiled in rapid secession, launching the Spartan into the air. He sailed over the street, arm arcing to grapple to the other side. At least that was the plan until something crashed into him.

Crash of metal on metal. Gravity and sudden change in acceleration took hold of the tumbled masses, careening down to the suddenly alert street. Chief acted first, grabbing hold of the unidentified mass, twisting his body, and bracing his legs. Armored heels crashed into the black asphalt, immediately halting. Tires screeched as cars swerved around the spartan, narrowly avoiding him. Thrusters expended at full speed to no avail from the... drone?

A whir came from the machine, then sounds of sizzling air. His energy shield came to life, a interconnected net of yellow hexagons flickering on his form. Before his shield bar would go lower any further, he tore the drone apart. Throwing the pieces away, the chief looked down the street to see cars quickly driving past him or stopping for its owners and passengers to run away. Hovering them, five more similar drones headed straight towards him. Two on the left and right with one in the center. All their prongs brightening.

...…...…...…...…...…...…...…...

"I'm a trained and experienced Field Coordinator working on behalf on General Strasse himself." The Frenchman began 'negotiating'.

"Another reason to kill you." Thought B.J. darkly as he slowly walked down the stairs.

"Do you know how much misfortune you are in if you do not release me? There's no point in keeping me here?" Blazkowicz would beg to differ. He peered to his right to a workbench with a familiar contraption. He needed some things first.

"I will be very lenient to you and the nurse and her family if you let me go immediately. You have my word on this." Come to the Asylum to kidnap sick people as if livestock and expect mercy at the drop of a hat after killing a whole shit ton of nazis? Not a chance. B.J. opened a closet next to the workbench to an carpenter's apron. "I have been known to be just and fair when dealing with people like you."

"People like I?" Nazis and their superiority complex.

"Do you realize who I am?! It would serve you well if you stop what you are doing and release me!" More empty threats. Both men knew it. Sweat glisten the mans brow as the American finished tying the knot around his back. Silently staring at the Frenchman again. The bound man's body moved in extreme apprehension against the rope, straining it.

"Understand, you damn lunatic, that I am superior to people like you." A growl lapsed behind B.J.'s back as he fished out a pair of goggles from the workbench drawer.

"Why won't you listen, you dumb retard." Keller's apprehension became more audile and intensified. His truer colors showing. The goggled stare didn't help with that either. Not at all. Grasping the chainsaw, Blazkowicz picked it up. The audile restraint of the ropes stopped. Odd. A black gloved hand entered his view and grasped a flat-headed screw driver as quickly as it could. Adrenaline, fear, and self-righteous anger driving it.

"You are a goddamn damned mental patient!" Keller kicked the chainsaw back on the table before his head gets bashed in by it. The stab towards Blazkowicz's neck never came when it was caught by the wrist, B.J. right hand walloping Keller's face back in the chair.

"Even cornered rats can bite." Keller restrains tightened once again and secured this time.

The chainsaw's miniature blades revolved around the bar dangerously close to the rat's neck. A nick appeared on the mans jugular, jolting him.

"STOP! STOP!" He pleaded, his body attempting to recoil from the blades as it possibly can.

"Berlin, Eisenworld Prison." The prison drenched in his own sweat, fueled by adrenaline that didn't help.

"... soon they will find this place and then you will be on your knees!" The Frenchman finally broke down, screeching at the American. A pull and the appliance came to life. The blades meeting flesh right after.

"Take care of her." Roman whispered dangerously in the American's ear after dressing hims in some of his old clothing. The clothing making the man look handsome. Not as handsome as Roman of course.

"We understand each other? Or I will find you and hurt you." He will not lose her too, or he'll make him pay for it. Old age be damned.

"I understand." Good. That's good...

"ALARM!" The checkpoint guard yelled it out, finding Anya and B.J. in the hidden compartment of Roman's truck. Said owner blew the guard's head apart with a double barrel shotgun before the Nazi could do anything else. The downpour drowning all sound to the rest of the check point.

"Kill everyone!" The old man ordered before he sat back in the driver seat. Blazkowicz only disappeared into the rain towards the unaware checkpoint, aiming to follow his command to the letter.

"Vvvvrrrrmmmm. Vvvvvvrrrrrrmmmmmm." Air blew past Blazkowicz's lips as he turned the wheel left and right and then left again. B.J. sat in the dismantled car inside the checkpoint gate building filled with the bodies of dead Nazis. He imitated 'honks' while pressing the horn then going into a pose, looking out the door.

"Hey, darlin'." He imagined as if Anya was standing there in a world free of any troubles of his current reality.

"How 'bout we go for a spin?" A world not controlled by Nazis.