Casting Blame

Restored Kaserne Krampnitz
Brandenburg, Germany.
Present Day

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Ilsa Hauppman sat at her heavy oak desk looking over the various reports carefully arranged in front of her. They covered a plethora of crucial information from various operations in her Fourth Reich from intelligence to security and finance. Unfortunately they all told the same thing: the Reich was collapsing out from under her. Not from any one devastating loss or crippling blow to the infrastructure. Death by a thousand cuts. Everywhere it seemed her organization was being stymied, from here in Germany, her Fatherland, to Angel Falls to Paraguay and all the other locations she had set up operations. The blonde woman's hands trembled with rage as she perused the latest report. An entire shipment of illegal arms lost off Arcadia Bay by an unknown assailant. Before that she was reading over the details of the escape of the metahuman called Psycho-13, resulting the deaths of several of her agents. Before that it was Cassandra Winstein and a squad of her best soldiers seemingly wiped out in a warehouse at the wharf in Angel Falls. Everywhere she looked it was nothing but failure and excuses. The room suddenly felt stifling and hot. Sweat beaded on her brow. The Reichsführer pulled down the zipper at her throat, exposing her milky white flesh to her cleavage. The blonde woman looked up at those gathered in front of her.

Obersturmbannfuhrer Anna Holt stood closest, dressed in her heavy black trenchcoat. She chewed on her lower lip and looked away when Hauppman's cold blue eyes met hers.

Helena Koch, now the reptilian cyborg assassin known as Jormungandr, stood up straight, her new forked tongue lashing in and out from in-between her scaly lips. Her metallic arms were folded across her almost naked chest, the chrome glittering in the candlelight.

Terry Keller took up most of the middle of the chamber, her size massive compared to her compatriots. The incredibly massive woman was a block of muscles and wore almost nothing to cover her impressive physique. Keller watched her leader, nervously shifting from one heavy foot to the other.

Scharführers Fisher and Gottfried were both fully in uniform, spit shined and polished at the back of the chamber and both of them lucky to be there. Both blonde women glanced at each other as they could feel the palpable rage radiating from their leader. Both of them were glad they weren't standing directly in front.

The being that currently referred to itself as "Mister Black" was opposite Holt across from Ilsa. His angular face was expressionless, like a statue in cold marble.

Catherine Gale, the telepath known as the Warlord or Voyevode stood nearby as well, clad in a shiny black uniform of the SS. After a time under Black's...ministrations...the powerful psychic had been broken down and subverted into a model officer for the Reich. She also had her arms folded and watched, serving more or less as Ilsa's personal bodyguard now.

"So this is what it has come to?" Ilsa snapped at no one in particular. "I'm surrounded by nothing but contemptible, disloyal cowards!"

Holt spoke up, her voice hurried and nervous sounding. "Reichsführer, perhaps if you will..."

"COWARDS, TRAITORS AND FAILURES!" Ilsa bellowed, scattering the papers from her desk with a wave of her arm. The reports danced in the air for a moment before coming to rest, scattered across the ground like carpeting. Holt got quiet while Terry Keller actually took a step back before responding, her voice usually heavy and masculine sounding came across as high-pitched and clipped.

"My Reichsführer, Obersturmbannfuhrer Holt and I were..."

"BOTH OF YOU FAILED! BOTH OF YOU GOT YOUR ASSES HANDED TO YOU BY THAT JUDEN-LOVING SWINE!" Ilsa snarled, her lips quivering with rage. "You are both pathetic scum! Why I wasted all the time and money on either of you is now beyond me! Not a shred of honor in either of you!"

The woman known as Genocide picked up the goblet of fine, red wine next to her and threw it at the larger woman. Terry ducked, as if the goblet or its contents would somehow hurt her, letting it fly past her to dash upon the stone floor of the chamber. Keller's eyes were wide as dinner plates. She had never seen her leader so completely enraged. No one present had. Ilsa began to pace back and forth behind her desk as she raged at her commanders.

"You all call yourselves my command staff! All of your failures have hindered my plans!" Ilsa howled as she pounded her fist on the wooden surface several times. "I should take a note from that verdammt Soviet Superwoman and her master Stalin by purging all of my high ranking officers!"

The Reichsführer sat down heavily as if she was suddenly tired from her rampage. Everyone save Mister Black appeared speechless and uncomfortable in her presence.

"I was there...I helped to conquer all of Europe..." Ilsa continued, "now I am picked apart by cowardly, carrion-feeding vigilantes while my commanders are impotent to stop them. ANY OF THEM!"

Holt glanced nervously at Koch. The former Obersturmbannfuhrer met her gaze with her golden, slitted pupils. Koch had been in the organization the longest, despite the heavy loss of her limbs and humanity she was still one of the most loyal servants to the struggle. Several years ago, the honey-tongue woman would have been able to find the right words to calm her mistress down. Anna hoped perhaps she could try to calm down the raving woman that was their leader. Helena took her meaning even though no words crossed her lips. Koch took a step forward. She owed it to her former squad-mates after all. Jessica...Gottfried had been the one who had assisted the Red Doctor in putting her back together after her horrific injuries and convinced him to let her keep a good portion of her original body.

"Reichsführer...", Jormungandr began cautiously, "calling your commanders traitors is outrageous. Everyone here is completely loyal to you and to the cause of the Fourth Reich. What we need to do..."

"What we need is blood...we need to strike back! We need to make the world fear us again! We need to make these so called heroes and heroines...vigilantes all, drown in their own blood!" Ilsa interrupted. "These fucking Canadians and Junkyard Jacks and everyone else that has dared to spit in the face of the glorious Aryan peoples! Sadly, my orders fall on deaf ears don't they Helena? You have failed me as well, which is why you are nothing but a half-machine, half-reptile abomination! My greatest soldiers, every one of you have been defeated by lesser beings!"

Koch stood up straight and pointed a clawed, cybernetic finger at her leader. "I have served you loyally, at the cost of my body, my humanity and my beauty! I have..."

"YOU HAVE FAILED!" Ilsa shouted loudly, standing up again. Her eyes blazed with fire and spittle shot from her throat. "Get out, all of you! It's over! Under these appalling circumstances I am no longer able to lead you. Leave me to my thoughts."

The shocked gathering of Reich operatives stood only a moment longer, most of them holding their breath before filing out of the chamber. No one looked back over their shoulders as they hurried out of the room, through the high-arched door-frame. All save one. Mister Black. She felt just as enraged at him as with the others, though. Despite his promises, he had supplied so little to her efforts.

"And why should I not simply crush you in my hands?"

"Do you think you would succeed?" Black asked.

There was a pause. She still did not know what he was, but whenever she pondered the possibilities, she felt the barest chill of fear crawl up her spine. It wasn't the normal kind of fear, either, but the kind that sometimes struck people when they looked up into the night sky.

Just thinking about him was like looking into the Abyss.

"Good," he finally said to break the silence, knowing that her inability to answer was the only answer he needed, "Now we can move past this impetuous tantrum you are throwing and work on a real plan."

She growled at him as he took a seat at her desk across from her. He sat with his hands resting on his knees and his back straight. He gazed impassively into her eyes, his face betraying no emotion.

"I did not have the pleasure of assisting this world's Hitler," he said calmly, "He was the last leader in the foreseeable timeline to show any real ambition toward uniting the world under a singular vision. The rest of this world's surviving superpowers… Their systems of governing are not designed for dynastic thinking. They can accomplish nothing, and humanity is limping toward its demise at an excruciatingly slow pace as progress is and evolution are halted and hindered at every turn by humanity’s fear. As much as I enjoy the end result, it does not suit my purposes. It does not suit our purposes.”

“And what would you have me do?” Ilsa snapped, slamming her hand on the surface of the desk, “What are you contributing? Even your little pet project failed me!”

“I will admit that Richard is… Imperfect. He was not my project to begin with, though… He was the end result of an associate’s who simply wanted to inflict chaos upon the world. Such a waste…”

“Muse on your own time, Herr Schwarz! You say you are an advisor! You say you are ancient! You have wisdom to provide? Then I should like to hear it before I dismiss you!”

Again, they regarded each other with silence. Black’s impassive gaze held Ilsa’s contempt-filled one.

“You are losing because you are alone,” Black finally stated, again being the first to break the silence, barely avoiding making her lose her patience.

Still, it was not a phrase she liked hearing. In a rage, she jumped to her feet, her legs hitting the chair so hard it slammed into the wall behind her.

“You have seen my army! You have seen my technology! You have seen my science! You know I am far from alone!”

“Your Fuhrer knew the advantages of acquiring allies to cover the weaknesses in his strategy. The Japanese covered the breadth of the Pacific and were working on conquering Asia. The Italians provided an air force and espionage network. The Spanish were supposed to bolster Germany’s naval might, but… Well… Not all examples are going to be good examples.”

Ilsa snorted derisively.

“The point remains, however. You lack the ablative armor of allies to throw at them while you learn. Your enemies know you. They know your army. They know your technology and while they don’t know your science, they are appalled by it into an undeniable fury that they utilize against it with devastating effectiveness. If you continue to fight this war alone, you will fall.”

Ilsa frowned, but raised no comment.

“The enemy knows you. Too well. What’s worse, there are too many of them for you to know them well enough to mount a credible offensive. As much as I’m loathe to quote the man, Sun Tzu said it best, that to know the enemy as well as you know yourself is the surest way to victory. You are outnumbered and outflanked. It is time for a new strategy. Your science of audacity is not saving you anymore.”

“What do you suggest?” she asked, suddenly feeling very weary.

“Mercenaries, for one thing. There are plenty enough sadistic freelancers out there. Without my guidance, Ransack would be one himself. Were he not involved in that abomination of a battle in the warrens with Rage, then we could have used him as a probe into the capabilities of our enemies,” Black sighed with a slight note of frustration, “No matter, though. I have contingencies in that regard.”

“You sound as if there is still more to your plan…”

“That is because there is, though you probably will not like it.”

A tendril of darkness wafted from the corner of his eye and the corners of his mouth twitched upward into the barest hint of a smile. Still, it wasn’t his mouth she was watching. Ilsa felt a sudden thrill as she gazed deep into his eyes.

Now she truly was staring into the Abyss. She was certain of it. What surprised her, however, was that she was unafraid. She was eager. There was something roiling in that dark and alien mind.

“In order to rise,” he explained, “You must first fall.”

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First, a big thanks to my dear friend Nathan for this incredible piece of art. Certainly one of the most enraged pictures of Ilsa to date and yet you still make her look incredible!

Secondly a big thanks to for helping me with the story and for letting me use his creations Mister Black, Holt, Keller, Fisher and Gottfried. It is always a pleasure to work with you and I hope to do so many, many more times!

Ilsa Hauppman, Helena Koch and the Voyevoda are my property and creations.

This takes place in the setting: