Heaven and Hell

Link to article: Heaven and Hell.


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[[include component:preview
text='cause it's all gonna echo 'till the end of days
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[[=]]
+ **0600**
-----
[[/=]]

"AUFWACHEN!"

Ames Fabré jumped out of his bed and fell right to the cold, hard floor as the Wehrmacht soldier stood above him. For the first few seconds, he just looked at the man, standing there armed like a scared animal, before finally scrambling up to his feet and throwing his blanket back on the bedding. Wordlessly, he collected himself, sneaking only a brief glance at the clock at the wall. He realized he was supposed to wake up five minutes ago.

The daily routine had exhausted him beyond all ability to resist. Hours and hours of daily spellcasting, with only minutes to eat or drink something in between. He knew what aim these industrialized rituals served, they all knew. And they all knew just how powerless they were to stop what was to come.

"Raum Einunddreißig. Jetzt!"

At the very least, he refused to fall into despair. During every session of mindless chanting, rune or sigil he had drawn, every sacrifice he made, he thought of his family. Charging at a guard and getting himself killed wouldn't help them. He promised them they will meet again once this is over, he promised his wife to embrace her, he promised his son to talk to him once more. Will they even recognise him after all of this? He lacked the answer, but he didn't lack hope. Every free minute, he hoped and prayed that something, someone, was going to stop this before the final ritual. But the time was drawing near.

= //MA OO//

= //OOO AAAI//

= //A EEE OOO//

= //ON AAAAAN//

He exclaimed, to the room full of mystics, occultists, Kabbalists, Gnostics and Angeologists. The ritual circle between them, drawn in a mixture of blood and salt, now radiated heat too hot to bear. The robes each of them wore made existence in it for longer than a few minutes even harder. But neither Jean nor anyone else in the room could even dare to exit for a break without permission from the guards. They've all seen what happened to the few who attempted it, or at least heard it. The guards took take them out of the room first, before the shots rang out. As the chanting and ritual movements continued, Jean finally saw what all of them have been dreading now for months. A glow. A bright, white glow, right from the center of the ritual circle.

In that moment, his hope had finally left him, for the last and final time. He fell to his knees, clutching his chest. As the figure before him materialized, there was only a single word on his lips.

"Mon Dieu!"

[[=]]
+ **0730**
-----
[[/=]]

Samuel Collins' squad could see the grey, brutalist building in the distance. The facility extended in all directions, branching out into sub-buildings and snaking surface tunnels of reinforced steel. There was a method to the madness of Fritsch-IV, even if they couldn't comprehend it from the ground. They've all seen the aerial photographs, after all. The whole complex was a sigil, thaumaturgic in nature. What for? Who cared. They were there to blow up the Obskurakorps scum, not psychoanalyze them.

"I'm detecting a sudden rise in Elan-Vital, Captain. Readings suggest a massive thaumaturgic ritual, likely still ongoing." Private Adi Wilson whispered as he gazed in a mixture of shock and amazement down at the EVE meter in his hands. The bulky device showed levels that, normally, could only be picked up were it strapped to a participant of a particularly resource-intensive ritual. And here he was picking it up from a mile and a half away. "Are you sure it is safe to continue, Captain?"

Collins furrowed by brows, but shortly afterwards, shook his head "We're not abandoning our mission now, Private. Continue forward!" He barked out, making the sign of the cross. "Protection spells, boys. We'll need them."

As the crew descended down the hill and into a thick forest below, that assumption was proven correct. Only a few meters inside and the trees around them were covered by cognitohazardous sigils. Nothing lethal, of course, all of them had undergone their inoculations years ago. Still, all who even caught a glimpse of them felt an omnipresent feeling of warmth and headsplitting headaches, looking down at the ground being only a brief remedy. And a very deadly one as well.

"Stop!" Collins grabbed the private in front of him, as he almost walked face-first into a steel wire, designed to catch any fool staring at the ground off guard. It connected right to a M39, perfectly at head height "Keep your heads up, boys. Shrapnel's gonna hurt much more than whatever this is"

Finally, the trees parted and the complex was once more visible. Much closer now, the squad could see some kind of white glow, coming out of the majority of its windows. Anxiously getting into positions, the commandos found...no one outside. There were only a few transport trucks parked in front of the facility, no security detail or watchtowers. The only sign of life was a faint chanting coming from somewhere deep inside, escaping the open windows as an echo. Still looking through his iron sights, Collins ordered the team to check their antimemetic munitions.

"Full magazines, Captain" The antimeme specialist whispered, confirming that no firefight had taken place outside of the squad's memory. A headcount proved no discrepancies either. "Should we prepare the Eve-Bomb, Captain"

"Affirmative"

And so, their weapon of choice began its assembly. It was a simple, metal sphere, covered in thaumaturgic symbols and containing passages from half a dozen spells. All that was needed was some careful handling and a few nuts to screw it into place. Once ready, it would neutralize all magic in a 2 kilometer radius. That, and level a few city blocks on its way. Just as two squad members struggled with attaching the detonation mechanism, however, something changed. Wilson's face, already covered in sweat, turned pale as he shook his EVE detector.

"Captain, we have an- we have a problem" He said, wiping his eyes and looking at the building. The glow in its windows had ceased, and so had the chanting. "Captain, the readings are at...the readings are at zero, Captain"

"Wha-"

Only a flash of light followed.

[[=]]
+ **0910**
-----
[[/=]]

Two men sat at a balcony overlooking the alps, one balding and one still with his full set of hair. Both wearing an undercut. The former had, just earlier that day, downed close to a full bottle of champagne. The latter found no use for such degenerate practices, he much preferred opiates and amphetamines, like a true Aryan.

"According to our schedule, The Rite should now be completed, Mein Fuhrer. Obskurakorps units are ready to strike on all fronts the moment we have confirmation" The balding man answered, suppressing a smile.

"Wunderbar! I'm impressed with you, Himmler. Seems I had been correct with giving you a second chance after the...fiasco, back in Tibet" He answered, with a serious tone to his voice. Somehow, Herr Himmler found little appreciation in the Fuhrer's words "I can picture it already, the black boots of the master race stomping their way across Moscow, wiping the untermenschen under their boots..."

"So can I, Mein Fuhrer. I assure you, we're only months away from bearing witness to that"

He smiled. Today was the start of a new era. Today was victory.

[[=]]
+ **0923**
-----
[[/=]]

Somewhere in Europe, a shockwave was felt.

Somewhere in Germany, a church had crumbled.

Somewhere in Berlin, the ground had shattered.

[[=]]
+ **1115**
-----
[[/=]]

Heather was running as fast as his feet allowed him.

The corridors of Site-01 seemed to drag on forever. The newly recruited assistant felt as if he was the minotaur, running through the infinite smooth, cold walls of a labyrinth designed specifically to trap him. Unlike the minotaur, however, he had a task to perform.

"Fuck! Sorry, sorry, 7's that way, right?" The guard, currently picking himself up from the floor, stared at him dumbfounded. Heather shook his head "Nevermind, I'll be on my way."

In an office at the end of the hallways sat an older woman, her movements robotic and her skin seemingly stretched too thin for her skeleton. She was spending her working hours like every day, signing documents, approving budget changes, reviewing intelligence findings. A lot of intelligence findings, as the bags under her eyes gave away. She hardly even reacted as her door blew open and the red-headed, young gentleman barged in.

"Madam, we've received reports from sites all over the world, they're recording sudden swings in Akiva, EVE, even Hume meters are malfunctioning. Anomalies, mostly theological, are being reported all over, we're having breaches left and ri-" The young man stopped, as the firm voice of 05-7 cut him off.

"Calm down, Andrew. I want you to slowly explain to me, which sites have reported these fluctuations, and which are currently undergoing a breach. Do you understand?" She asked with a calm voice and an almost relaxed tone, looking straight at the shaking and panting man before her.

"That's the issue, Madam. All of them have. And... and Sites-19, -17, -45, -63 are, Madam"

For the first in decades, 05-7's dried skin cracked into a look of genuine concern.

[[=]]
+ **1208**
-----
[[/=]]

Collins' head was ringing, and his body felt on fire. He couldn't feel his right leg, and wished he could say the same about the rest of his limbs. Opening his eyes, he was met with nothing but light. Not the same blinding light that struck him earlier, nor that of the pearly gates. It was a light of something large, descending far from beyond the clouds.

"Wilson!" He yelled with the last remnants of his voice. At least his throat was intact "Private Wilson! Specialist Michaels!"

But no one answered him, not even the sound of branches swaying in the wind. The explosion had levelled all the trees around him. His brief moment of lucidity was very quickly fading, as the pain and blood loss began to have their effect on him. It was a miracle that he had even lived this long, he thought to himself.

"A miracle..." He whispered, looking up above him. At the bright ship, or plane, or city. He saw the chariots, the wheels, the wings ascending from it, just as his vision began to blur. As his heart gave out, a smile appeared on his mouth.

"Give 'em hell, boys"

[[=]]
+ **1545**
-----
[[/=]]

"Fine! Fine! If you want to go out like the vermin, go ahead!"

Hans Reuter stormed out of the Reichpost building, cursing back all the cowards who remained in hiding. Berlin was under attack, and he wasn't going to make himself into a sitting duck now. A wave of relief rushed over him as he saw his Benz 770, still in one piece, waiting for him as expected. He knew the coating of holy water and the dozen protection spells weren't for nothing. It was just a matter of time until either the judeo-bolsheviks or the filthy western capitalists stooped so low as to send infernal forces for him. Demonology is an Aryan science, God damn it!

"Herr-Herr Reuter, I-I-I am so glad to see you I" His chauffeur was covered in tears and sweat, his heartbeat seemingly audible. His words were muffled by the screams and roars happening all around the car. "Wha-why-where are we-was that-"

"Shut up! Out of Berlin, now!" His employer yelled, swinging luger like a club. "Don't even think about slowing down or stopping, understand?"

He didn't answer, just hitting the gas. The city around them was in utter chaos. Black figures soared through the sky. Clouds of smoke billowed across the sky. Some from the direction of the Kroll Opera, some from the Schutzstaffel headquarters. Around them, hundreds of civilians ran, most not even knowing what they were running from. Neither of the men knew how they haven't even hit a single one yet.

"Halt!" An Ordnungspolizei officer yelled at them, blowing into a whistle. It seemed that he was trying to set up an evacuation route, with a few others joining him in that fruitless pursuit. Before Hans could tell his driver to ignore it, or run him over, he suddenly looked downwards. Right at a crack on the ground. "What in heaven's-"

A figure emerged from the hole, covered in fur wet with a red liquid. It was as tall as a lamppost, had the horns of a goat and the maw of a wolf, but the gait of a man. Seconds after it ascended, it just grabbed him, right by the throat. Right after, it squeezed it, crushing the flesh and muscle while spraying blood across both it and the now-dead man. The other officers opened fire, the bullets tearing holes through its body. It, meanwhile, slowly turned its head towards the car. It did not even flinch as the gunshots continued.

"Go! Go, before it breaks through the spells!"

And just like that, the car turned around and started going in the opposite direction. As they drove away, the figure remained in the back view mirror, staring at them. Without consulting his driver, Hans tore it down. No looking back now, he said it himself. They either get out of the city, or they're sharing the fate of that officer.

And it seemed that they had gotten away. The chaos was more or less equal across Berlin, but not, at the outskirts, they could see the safety of the countryside. No plumes of smoke, no distant demonic figures. As they passed a factory, only earlier in the day used to print propaganda, they sighed in relief.

By the time they turned their heads down towards the road again, it was too late, a rift having opened in the ground. Its insides glowed in hues of red and orange. By the time the brake was hit, the front wheels were already at the edge of the abyss.

The last thing they smelled was the sulfur.

[[=]]
+ **2015**
-----
[[/=]]

05-7's office was a mess of papers, stamps and spilled ink. With the council unable to host its emergency meeting until the next day, due to over half of 05's being currently present outside of Site-01, she and her colleagues were now the supreme authority within the Foundation. She herself was in charge of declining or approving emergency measures, be they the mass amnesticization of whole towns or use of D-class as field agents. The times were desperate. At least she had the opened package of pervitin on her desk to help her. It was the only thing she appreciated the Germans for.

Her hand slammed down the "DECLINE" stamp on the proposal for the usage of anomalous weapons to combat the angelic entities currently present over most of France, just as the door to her office swung open.

"We've received a letter, Madam. Addressed straight to the Overwatch Council." Heather said, panting. Unlike her, he lacked access to drugs which could help him get through. His face was covered in sweat and his hair was messier than usual. "It was found wedged under the front door, we're...not sure who it is from, or how it got there. We showed it to a D-I mean D-Class-to test for cognitohazards, none found"

"Thank you" was all she had to say as she nodded her head. She looked at the opened envelope and slowly extracted the piece of paper. The first thing she saw was the logo. A pentagram, surrounded by stems of wheat. Finally, she thought to herself. The Initiative was going to tell her what in the heavens was going on.

> **{{To all members of the Overwatch Council}}**
>
> **{{The Allied Occult Initiative has been made aware of a thaumaturgical ritual of unknown purposes, performed this morning at a facility presumed to be under control of the SS-Ahnenerbe Obskurakorps, an occult branch of the Schutzstaffel organization. According to all available data, the ritual has resulted in the increased effeciency of all known thaumaturgic rituals and, more importantly, the sudden severance of barriers between religious beings and the material world. As reported by troops under our command, this includes both Angelic and Infernal entities.}}**
>
> **{{We currently estimate that the Global Veil System, as dictated by the 1885 convention of the General Assembly of Thaumaturgists and Theologists, may collapse over the coming weeks.}}**
>
> **{{In light of this crisis, the AOI leadership requests an emergency meeting with representatives of the Overwatch Council of the Special Containment Procedures Foundation, with the goal of coming to a consensus regarding the response and recovery efforts, in addition to the future of the veiled world.}}**
>
>
> **{{With highest regards}}**
> **{{Derry Cornelius Al-Fine, Head Negotiator of the Allied Occult Initiative.}}**

Heaven and Hell

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