In the aftermath of the second world war, some groups still persecuted the dream for the search of the "Übermensch", also known as the "Super Soldier".
Deep inside a mountain facility (Zugspitze CVnU) a project was initiated after the defeat of the Nazi's in World War II, under the supervision of the director Karl Wagner. This is where I, Heinrich, was born and raised together with eleven other prodigies. Everyone of us fit the profile of the Nazi Aryan standard, some more than others. The other eleven were Sebastian, Johann, Wilhelm, Armin, Marco, Theodor, Matheus, Julian, Christian, Richard and Stefan. Marco being the directors favorite and the most promising. We were raised in the mentality that we were brothers and that the war never ended, that we were the shining hope of our nation, of it's future.
Every day of our life was committed to the harsh reality of war, death and defeat. We were instructed how to kill before we could even drive a bicycle for that matter. Our senses, or so it seemed, were above average. At the age of seven we underwent training that demolished our concept of fear, as we held a grenade timed to explode and counted to three where, if it was functional would eventually go off. The entire training was based off of trust, if one of us made a mistake, or if the product was dysfunctional we all would have to pay the miserable consequences. Nothing short of perfection was asked of us.
The educational system we had was well above our age as well, but with our IQ it was no problem as we quickly adapted to the knowledge we were taught. Engineering, Weaponry, Vehicles were only a few of the military subjects taught, linguistics and how to appropriately speak without accent was mandatory if we didn't want to be caught in a foreign country when undercover. When our days ended, we had the obligation to educate ourselves, either by using the library or our archives. I spent day and night analyzing the cruelty of our concentration camps, trying to set myself in the position of the people who were being subjugated to terror by the "higher race". Some other special operations were mentioned, such as the infamous V2's research by Werner von Braun.
Some years have passed, we are now 16 of age. Even though we all received the same education, food and sleep in the same beds, we have distinguished features that differ from one to another. Sebastian became the tallest, yet he couldn't keep up in combat training. Johann was the best at languages, but was a pretty big klutz. Wilhelm was our best shooter, but he always was the one to chicken out first. Armin was probably the best next to marco and me, but has a bad temper and often lets it get the better of himself. Theodor gained more weight than the others, probably because he slacked during training, I noticed. The rest were hardly different from each other, that is of course except Marco.
One fateful day, Marco noticed something, something we should have noticed earlier. He noticed that Wagner wasn't up to our abilities, and not even to our intelligence. When Wagner held one of his speeches on our part of the War, Marco boldly put him to the test. He initiated in hand to hand combat. His perception was correct, it was a beatdown. Marco being the sadistic motherf#ker that he is wouldn't let himself be taught by a lesser creature any longer. It didn't take long for him to ice the director, putting the rest of the brothers at awe. What were we to do now?
Marco himself held a little speech, and informed us on a shocking fact, at least to us. He overheard a transmission Wagner had with someone from the city. The war had long ended. The twelve prodigies were being stalled, under the premise that they would never see the light of day to hide the horrible truth. Wilhelm immediately went apesh#t, gunning down Theodor in the process only to be stopped by Armin who pummeled him to death with his bare fists. When he was done with him his head looked like a squashed melon, what a mess.
Our brotherhood had just turned into one sick battle royal, eleven of us in a free for all death match for superiority. Marco let out a laugh and walked off. Apparently Johann was quite fond of Theodor, as he was the only to throw Armin off of the goo that was left of his freinds head. I already knew the outcome, I didn't even need to get in between before Armin started strangling Johann. I could already see the lesser ones cower in fear of the physical superior Armin, I'm not gonna let this f#cker become the silver back just yet. A swift roundhouse kick against his rib cage sends him to the ground gasping for air, Johann's eyes are rolled back into his skull. I smack him a bit until he regains consciousness.
As i focused my attention on Johann, the weaker ones took advantage of a hindered Armin and shot him multiple times. I was probably next in line for being one of the top. Not happening. Generosity is a nice thing and all, but you have to know when to do what is necessary to survive. I take Johann's body and use him as a flesh shield to misguide the bullets as i charge the three. Two of the three guns were already clicking as their chambers were empty. I throw his twitching corpse against Julian who was always more of a hesitant type, and who probably was the one with some bullets left. My elbow quickly meets Christians spleen, as his head bangs to the ground you can hear his skull cracking. Richard dropped his empty pistol in an attempt to unsheathe his combat knife, the motion of his arm though gave me an opening to turn it around, dislocating his shoulder and knocking his front teeth clean out as I slam him face first in the cold concrete ground. The rest had fled.
The facility was on lock down, probably Marco's sadistic doing. It took me about 48 hours to hunt down the last of us, Marco had also offed one, Sebastian, slit his throat from behind. It was as it had always been, survival of the fittest. I am close to exhaustion, three days have passed since i have consistently been on guard. I take a moment and sit down one of the dimly lit hallways. A creaking noise can be heard throughout the facility, which meant that the dome of the Arena was being opened. A challenge I'd gladly accept. I drag myself back up, making my way to the Colosseum. As I arrive, I find a butt naked Marco in the middle. Not much to my surprise if I'd be honest. I was the only one he saw as his equal most of the time anyway. He wanted the most primal death match possible.As I take my time unclothing myself, thinking of a strategy to create openings in his almost flawless defense and offense, Marco has something to say. He tells me that he read Wagner's diary. It contains information about our upbringing, our creation and our purpose. He also wrote down the date of the entries, up to the point where the war ended. Marco turned the page where his new entries lied, the date he wrote down from then on, never changed. It always stayed the way on the day the war ended. Marco began to laugh, and so did I. The old man snapped.
Marco told me that we were the last of a series of super soldiers, the last hope of our nation. The problem was, the project was put on halt. Wagner couldn't handle the pressure anymore. The food supplies were almost out as well. In the end thing were probably gonna go as they are now. People had to die. I take a moment for myself to grasp the situation, look up at the crystal clear night sky with all their stars and constellations. There are infinitely bigger objects in this universe than our nation, let alone someone with a weird beard's ego. I can hear bells ringing. It's time...
Marco grows impatient and throws Wagner's diary at me, i use the little stealth the cover of the book provided to clench my fist beside my chest and throw a left hook following up with a right uppercut. He dodged the hook but was caught by my right. I got a kick in the chest and was forced to roll back. The sucker had me at range, and as sadistic as he was he wasn't unprepared. Acknowledging my physical equality to him, he bent over to his clothes and pulled out a handgun. He starts firing. I try to dodge but get striped by a few, Wagner's moves seemed like slow motion for us, but bullets are on a different level. I fought with Marco enough to know what he takes advantage of, he works with fear and anticipation. The problem is, he can't handle irrationality. I keep charging head on, his grin turns into a displeased gaze the bullets keep hitting. I took nine bullets, three of them in my chest, four glances, and two in my limbs. Marco grasping to the most powerful thing in the vicinity, namely the gun, couldn't compute the fact that he could be overpowered with it in his grasp. I break take him by his forearm and break his hand, the pistol falls to the ground. With the other arm i strike at his adam's apple with my flat hand in a chop, shattering it in the process. Bent over on the ground it seems as if he would recover, i end it swiftly by kicking him in the nose with my kneecap, sending his nose bone into his brain.
I release the lock down and fly to the nearest town with the helicopter located on the roof for medical treatment, the government officials apparently caught notice of the incident, probably through security cameras. A couple of years later i acquire a legit identity from the German government under Heinrich Josef Schmidt.
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