The God Emperor of Europe was flying through the azure sky at nearly warpspeed. This time, however, he was no longer focused on foreign countries in Africa, but of the whole continent, countries in his home continent of Europe in particular. Nolan Luther Pierce wanted to add several European countries as his vassals. The two starting countries he was looking to take control of were nations in central Europe, namely Germany and France, two countries adjacent to Great Britain and Ireland. Like with England, his intents were not the most basic and braindead of strategies, such as massacring entire districts full of minorities. Instead, the Master of Europe greatly preferred to target the lifeblood of these regimes: electricity. Without it, there was only social discord. Basically, the plan was simple: find a western country, sabotage the infrastructure, wipe out the military's chain of command, and arm White Nationalist terrorists with stolen, top-of-the-line military hardware.
Right now, he was just scouting, searching for the various weak-points in Germany before striking as hard and as fast as he could, much too quick for the government to even know what was happening, never mind building an effective resistance. In his hand was a pen and paper, billowing in the wind even at the subsonic speeds he was still swiftly traversing German air space at, a measly six hundred miles per hour. Outside of Berlin, he mapped out the locations of several power substations, all of which feeding the city its much-needed precious energy to control its guilt-stricken, brainwashed population.
"The core city is done. Now it's on to the peripheral cities," Nolan muttered to himself.
Swiftly, he flown directly to the city of Hamburg, looking out for the large, scaffolded, utility power lines that lead straight to the substation supplying the city with its juice. He took out his notepad and scribbled down more locations where the power substations were located into his vast, near limitless, photographic memory.
City to city, he noted down every piece of critical infrastructure, every bridge, every military base until he ran out of major locations inside of Germany to search for until there was virtually none left. Nolan had pretty much scoured the country of any key targets to destroy and/or raid when he attacked the country as hard and fast as he could. Germany was a pretty small country, no larger than Texas, maybe even smaller, in fact; thus, scouting was a rather swift affair when one flew so quickly through the sky he could pretty much head into space within a matter of seconds. Next on the to-do list was France, to the west of Germany. Two countries were going to be leaving NATO within the next few months, with the first few minutes deciding the outcome.
Within less than a minute, he flew directly up into low Earth orbit and straight down, utilizing a catapult trajectory in order to avoid any potential detection from advanced radar systems supposedly designed to track flying superhumans. Nolan was already overlooking the skies of Paris within twenty seconds.
Once a beautiful vacation resort middle class baby boomers would take their families to visit, Paris now wreaked of nothing but sewage. The new citizens have been using the city as an open-air, public restroom, urinating and defecating wherever they pleased as if it were some third world hell hole without plumbing. Aesthetically, the city was still as breathtaking as it ever was, but even thousands of feet in the sky, Nolan's prodigiously enhanced senses could still make out the horrendous stench of feces from up above.
Hell, France was probably already a two-point-o version of South Africa, making the countries glorious reclamation from the foreign hordes exponentially harder than he had ever thought possible. Still, the same strategy that had worked in England would fit perfectly with France and Germany. Engineered famines would still wipe the foreigners out without even firing off a shot. The trick, however, was forming an ethnic enclave out of the remaining native population. Difficult, but not impossible. The non-European foreigners could still more than sustain themselves on the cannibalism of their fellow ethnics for many months.
He was not really focused on how far France had fallen down the proverbial crapper. What he was focused on was the infrastructure. The demographic tipping point of no return only ever truly mattered when one was looking to win democratically, which, thanks to the powers that be, was an overall impossible avenue to victory, anyway. That left only sowing discord through sabotage. Classic Hegellian dialect; create the problem, stoke the flames of the reaction, and then sell the poor sods the solutions. Given that the average person was what his dad, Arthur Pierce, referred to as a lemming, this was a surefire strategy that worked virtually every goddamned time. It was shameful. But hey, if it worked, it bore constant repeating.
While the cities were more foreigner than native Frenchman at this point, there was still the disgruntled rural population, just barely holding on to the French majority of the country. Sadly, Nolan noticed that most of those people were over the hill too old to fight in any such war. There were no blondes, no brunettes, or even redheads, just a sea of gray way over the age of forty, perhaps the first people to die when he cut the proverbial cord that was the country's infrastructure.
While it was strange Nolan was flying through foreign airspace without the jets being scrambled, there were three reasons no attempts were made to shoot him down: one, Nolan moved too fast for fighter jets to even track, let alone intercept, already flying at hypersonic speeds. Two, he was much too small for radar to even have a Snow Ball's chance in hell of tracking, and lastly, three, he looked no different than Homelander. As far as the general population of France and Germany were concerned, Homelander was vacationing out in Europe. In fact, he could hear the populations of the various nations cheer as he flew low overhead, as the unenhanced human eye could not tell the difference between Homelander and the God Emperor of Europe thousands of feet in the air. Not many supes had enhanced senses either.
Nolan was both nervous and excited. He had never before even imagined the immense, herculean task of taking over two separate countries where he had not even lived before. In the case of England, he conquered the nation effortlessly because he lived there for over thirty years, with his dad occasionally overseeing him after he massacred entire Islamic Communities in fits of rage. The government conveniently covered it up thanks to the occasional extortion threats from Pierce, in the form of assassins threatening the families of high-ranking government officials. Then again, even if their militaries were well and truly aware of his presence, short of dropping a hydrogen bomb on his head, there was not really a damn thing they could do to stop him. The only other real alternative to stop him was a scorched earth policy on the continent, where the militaries bombed entire civilian population centers populated by Whites, while leaving the muslims and Hindus intact. No sane government would willingly bomb its own sole-productive citizenry, giving Nolan Luther Pierce's conquest a form of legitimacy to the survivors.
"Those hooknosed kikes think they can wipe out their betters. Oh, they will try and they will die," Nolan sneered, his imperialist Anglo-Saxon blood coursing through his veins.
"Plus, knocking off the Rothschild's largest Jew stronghold sweetens it further. Oh yes," he finished with a twinge of delight.
Starlight awoke from her nightmare filled sleep, her fine silken sheets stained with blood and a large, ragged, vaguely person-sized hole smashed through one of the windows. Even the metal bars were broken outside, torn through as if an artillery shell struck her room. Annie looked to her side to notice a torso with a mutilated, horribly scarred head still attached. He was nude. Not only were his limbs horrendously sawed off at the shoulders, the stumps were crudely tied shut with clear plastic tubing so as to stop blood loss. The man's genitalia were gone, torn right off. Only a ragged hole remained of what were once his cock and balls. Starlight shrieked loudly once her brain fully processed what had just happened and who that mutilated circus freak of a man was.
It was Diamond, or rather, what was left of him after Stormfront had him involuntarily committed to the Saint Martin's mental hospital, owned and operated by a subsidiary of Pierce Enterprises. Diamond screamed back in horror, only for it to be muffled as his tongue was torn off, likely as a preventative measure for Arthur Pierce to retain control over him while he was torturing Diamond. Dastardly Bastard.
Maeve, Homelander, Stormfront, Black Noir, and even Stan Edgar, in that order, all rushed into Starlight's illustrious apartment in search of the cause of the hysterical screaming, only to be, too, greeted with wide-eyed glances of silent horror at what was positioned on her bed. Blood was trickling out of his front hole, where his male genitalia once was.
"Starlight, I never knew you were a fellow member of the LGBTQIAP movement. I see you're an amputee fetishist as well," said Maeve, shocked at the whole situation.
"Starlight likes fucking mutilated transsexual burn victims," teased Stormfront with a devilish grin.
"Who did this to you?" inquired Homelander, his tone more serious.
"That sneering, pompous, racist, homophobic, blonde billionaire that just so happens to own forty percent of your Nazi-founded Company, Arthur Luther Pierce," cried Diamond, his speech impaired because of his missing tongue
"If you Stan Edgar, materialist Schwoogie that you are, had protected me from this shiksa who occasionally fucked Pierce when she was still Liberty in the late nineteen sixties to late nineteen seventies, none of this would have fucking happened. I would still have my bloody legs, my arms, my face, my tongue, and my fucking schmeckle. Bring that schvartze, Sage, over here right now. Perhaps she can whip up something to restore my power and body," requested Diamond.
Diamond yelped in pain as Starlight focused the light of her hands on to where Diamond's junk once was, cauterizing the hole so that he may not bleed to death. Once all of the blood vessels of the hole were seared shut and she used her expensive silk sheets to awkwardly dress his wounds, she placed his torso on a chair.
"How did you lose your superpowers, may I ask," inquired Edgar in a formal tone.
"It's the beta particle radiation both Arthur and Nolan emit from their telekinetically focused beams of superheated plasma they shoot out of their eyes. Electrons are actually beta particle radiation once freed of their bonds to atoms, and that is exactly what shooting air particles at approximately the speed of light does, strip the atoms of their electrons and shoot them at near lightspeed as well. The combination of the extreme radioactivity and the searing heat of a star's core cutting a person in half are what does them in. My feet were reduced to ragged, charred bleeding stumps in '85. The compound V protected me from the radiation, but it severely weakened my powers. I am now seventy four years old biologically, because the anti-aging effects of the original serum no longer affect me," explained Abram Diamond.
"Looks like your chickens have come home to roost, Schlomo the Chomo. Balk. Balk," stated Stormfront mockingly.
"Let me put this in a way your mentally defective shikza brain can understand: you are goyim, created by Yahweh to be exploited, raped, and slaughtered by the Jews. It is in fact your chickens coming home to roost when that VX gas entered your daughter's lungs, whore. I felt a twinge of delight when saw her choking on her own puke. As for the child, that was more for my hatred of Arthur, like smiting down the first born sons of the Pharoah of Egypt. Then, like an arrogant Pharoah would, he attacked Israel, burning down villages before flying through one of our cities at a gigantic portion of the speed of light, creating a large mushroom cloud larger than Mount Everest. Millions of God's chosen killed in the blast. Those were the lucky ones, as millions more died from the horrific burns and radiation. You know what your fuckboy said to me when he left me here on Starlight's bed like a dog leaving a shit? That he killed more than kikes than the kraut could ever dream of!" retorted Abram angrily.
Stormfront only continued to mock and berate Abram's condition further. She saw what that psychopathic lab experiment had done to Abram in addition to wiping entire Israeli townships right off the map. Then he flew into Abram's mansion at supersonic speeds, striking the house with enough force to level Vought tower itself with the sheer kinetic energy of his flight speed. It was as if a 155mm shell had struck Abram's house, bringing it down on top of poor, innocent Isabella. Nolan raped her with a piece of superheated rebar, killed her poor children, and yet Stormfront still felt sorry for him. For this monster that had murdered children because he suffered in a lab. If it were somehow possible, Starlight would take his powers away, send him to a prison where there were no White people to defend him, and in general population, where the prisoners would kill him.
"Jonathan Luther Pierce was the worst man ever. The bastard arrogantly injected his crippled, wretch of a son when Yahweh willed that he never walk, see, hear, or have the use of his arms again. There was still some shrapnel embedded in his brain. It had no effect on his cognitive abilities, but he permanently lost the ability to delay gratification for more than a few seconds. The technology and surgical techniques for delicate brain surgery were not invented until the 1970s. Even then, whenever doctors tried to remove that four-inch piece of shrapnel, his telekinetically-shielded, diamond-like tissues would blunt the scalpel or, in the case of a regeneration coma, regenerate faster than the surgeon could cut in. The progenitor serum, a mutagenic virus, altered his brain chemistry, enhancing his intellect ten-fold while also giving it the ability to psychically change the local laws of physics, like Neo hacking into the Matrix," lamented Abram.
"What kind of virus is it?" asked Stan Edgar, a curious look on his face.
"We've tried testing it on Israeli soldiers," answered Abram as clearly as he could without his tongue. "Pure Europeans gained superpowers, while admixed peoples like Jews and other assorted non-Whites died horribly as the virus told the immune system to attack the body. Anyone who has more than a quarter non-European blood in their family tree will die, with admixed people suffering from flu-like symptoms in addition to other effects. With five percent or less non-European DNA, you get powers from this serum. Anything remotely in the double digits gives you the flu and a full-blooded non-White grandparent will just out right kill you. The reason why Frederick Vought simply didn't inject Klara with it was because the Germans were hemorrhaging money and the previous serum caused horrible autoimmune diseases in prisoners. It might work on the German people and it might not have. Each ampoule of the progenitor serum costs as much as an F-35 Fighter Jet. Like any Aristocrat, Arthur is a materialist; thus, he would not sacrifice his billionaire, skirt-chasing lifestyle for an army. Hell, he doesn't even pay for his cocaine. He literally flies over to Columbia for the sole purpose of threatening drug lords into giving up a pallet of their stash every six months, as he hates it when they cut it with baking powder or whatever the new kids are doing… elephant tranquilizers. Arthur also threatens the Asians for several tons of heroine, to ease his head aches—no doubt—of the shrapnel rattling around in his skull," explained Abram, looking over at Klara mid-explanation.
"It is the only reason why he didn't lay waste to America with an armed militia at his command like he said he would in the Turner Diaries. Arthur loves his cocaine, heroin, and other assorted luxuries. Don't even bother with the progenitor serum. It's much too expensive and only works on White men with little to no non-White ancestry. The real threat to the survival of the Jewish people right now is Nolan Luther Pierce, aka subject H14, or the God Emperor of Europe to the ill-informed. By some point in the 2030s, there will be no non-Whites, no Jews, just a large continent with five hundred million Europeans, most of whom ruled over as vassals to the Holy Brittania. Why, most of them will be brought back into the loop of tilling the fields, fighting in the wars, as the masses have for generations past in antiquity and the Middle Ages. Any remnants of oriental civilization or any African tribe that has not starved to death in the coming famines will be exterminated by mop-up operations, quickly and efficiently, by the year 2040. Shame. My people intended for indigenous Europeans to be extinct by the year 2060, or at least a tiny, oppressed minority," stated Abram, smiling at Stormfront with sadistic glee.
"Leave it to the parasite to finally piss off the host, which ironically makes antisemitism a self-fulfilling prophecy," replied Stormfront with a smug laugh. "Poetic justice when you well-poisoning sociopaths think about it."
Worst of all, Stormfront was spouting the classic antisemitic talking point of Jews attacking their hosts, hence the expulsions and massacres being somewhat justified. They were somewhat true, but those were the actions of a few hundred. In the minds of these people, Jews had to collectively pay a thousand-fold for the actions of a few hundred or so individuals. Even if they were exterminating Europeans, they were killing ten percent of the population instead of ninety-percent or more of the Human race like Arthur Luther Pierce and his wretched son were doing. White nationalists were children who could not hope to comprehend the needs of the many versus the needs of the few, and to top it all off, they freak out and break stuff while screaming mine, mine, mine as far as Starlight was concerned. When a people colonized the world and took resources and wealth from other countries, they forfeited their rights to a nation state in addition to a right to exist as a collective.
"Another thing. I would like you to do for me, Mr. Edgar. I want you to finally dig up some dirt on Arthur Luther Pierce. For instance, you could have Homelander observe and report him while he's off threatening drug kingpins for his fix," proposed Abram.
"That way, we can at the very least confirm to the public he's a supe, which would mean he's also responsible for one of the worst attacks on Jewish people since the holocaust."
Meanwhile, inside of the halls that lead directly to Starlight's quarters, Arthur Luther Pierce was listening, dressed in a grey jumpsuit he had stolen off of the janitor, Pasquel Mendez. A fat man, it was quite easy for a tall muscular man such as Arthur to fit himself in his uniform. As for the other formalities, he wore a dark-haired hairpiece, a fake, black mustache, in addition to squinting his eyes and covering his face in a spray tan. At first glance, nobody would be able to tell him apart from a Mexican immigrant. Though, he was quite huge for a Mexican, at around six feet, five inches tall, nearly a good foot and a half taller than the average person in that region.
He heard everything, every word, every pathetic little strategy they had intended to use against him. Of all of them, Sister Sage was perhaps the greatest threat to him. Arthur was smarter than her in over all IQ score, but that hardly mattered when the other opponent had a far greater attention span and thus patience than he did. She was not limited by a piece of shrapnel in her Compound V supercharged brain. That was why he had invented the AI Felicia to handle the cyberwarfare front of his whole operation.
What puzzled him the most about this conversation was that Abram was not just alive, but still rather articulate for a man who recently had his tongue pulled out. Maybe it was divine punishment from his God. After all, it was not his son that killed those people in Israel, but him when he had chosen to kidnap Arthur's child, torture him, and sell the videos to wealthy perverted freaks like Jimmy Saville and Garry Glitter when the Israeli Government cut the funding to the Kronos Facility in 1985, right after Arthur had killed in excess of four million people. All those people had died because of Abram's stubbornness and pride, just like the Pharoah he compared Arthur to. Ironic.
Israel was the one that lost that day. Millions of dead all for just one superpowered, European child that happened to be Arthur's first-born son because his wife was killed seventy-six years ago. If anything, Israel should be utterly broken and humiliated. That was not even a victory, but a pathetic Pyrrhic stalemate at best. Those millions of people Arthur killed were all Abram's fault. Had he left well enough alone, Arthur would not have needed to fly there and give the people of Israel the worst pummeling they have ever experienced since the Bar Kokhba revolt, and even then, the odds were much fairer. Jewish people in Israel needed to subsidize the births of their population in order to restore it to pre-1985 levels so quickly. In fact, they have a five child per family policy just to replenish their numbers in wars. The funniest part of that whole event, he found out after his coma, was that they brutally enslaved Palestinians, their semitic brethren, to rebuild Tel Aviv after he wreaked devastation on it. Millions died of cancer cleaning the irradiated fallout created from his relativistic flight. Oh yes, it was a defeat so bad that even congress was about to stop funding Israel.
Little did those witless wonders from behind the walls know that their new girl, Stormfront, was practically his double agent, informing him of whenever they were going to make a move on him. Even then, she was not needed necessarily. She was still somewhat helpful nonetheless.
"Time for Mr. Edgar to have an unfortunate scandal befall him. Then I am going to dump his company's stock for a hefty payday.
He grabbed a satellite phone from his left pocket, dialed up a contact in the FBI, and pressed it to his ear.
"Hello, is this special agent Russel Macready. Yes, I would like you to have one terabyte of child pornography planted on Stan Edgar's work computer, followed by an anonymous tip to the New York City Police Department from a Pasquel Mendez," requested Arthur over the phone.
"So, you want me to pull a Kevin Alfred Stromm on Stan Edgar," answered Special Agent Russel.
"Precisely. Check your account balance."
"Whoa."
"That's ten million if you arrest Stan Edgar on trumped up child pornography charges. One hundred million if you do the same to all of the degenerate, left-wing scum like Antifa," proposed Arthur over the phone.
"Then we have a deal," said Macready enthusiastically.
"Yes. We sure do," said Arthur with a wide grin on his face.
Think of Arthur Luther Pierce and Nolan Luther Pierce as evil Bruce Waynes with the powers of a reality-warping version of Superman. They understand military strategy enough that they could topple entire countries with swift surgical strikes. Actually, they are more like 40K space marines, using swift attacks on high value targets to completely and utterly cripple their enemies, while leaving the majority of their targets to ordinary men with firearms. For the world of the boys, I will admit, they are a little too smart, even smarter than Sister Sage.