Chapter 2

Hans was jolted awake by the sound of thunder. Or at least, something that sounded like thunder. What he didn't know was that some clumsy soul had dropped their assortment of pots and pans in a mad dash to fix themselves breakfast for the morning in one of the buildings below him. They just wanted some eggs...

Any attempts to open his eyes failed as the sun shone onto his face, his awakening eyes were less than ready for such intensity. At some point during his weeping, he had fallen asleep and adopted a fetal position, with his face bearing the full brunt of the sun's attack. To remedy this, the boy untucks his knees from his abdomen and straightened out his legs, allowing him to roll over onto his other side, where he would finally be able to open his eyes. After some adjustment, it became clear to him that he was still on the same roof, on the same floor, and still high up. Perhaps all this wasn't a dream after all, and that he may just be stuck here.

"Wherever 'here' is." He sighs as he lifts himself off of the ground, his joints making several popping noises as he stood up straight.

Hans performed a few stretches and at the same time would soak in the surrounding view. He couldn't see a lot of the strange city when levels of light were low, but the streetlights and the lights from the buildings certainly made the place look pretty. But now, with the sun shining down and blue skies in the air, what he saw was perhaps one of the nicest cities to have ever been built. For a couple of miles around him, he was surrounded by proud, white-brick buildings, all uniformly together like troops at attention for inspection. He noted how the city appeared to have been built up against the mountains, where several waterfalls would flow down into an area he could not see.

Every couple of buildings along a street were decorated with violets and soft yellows, adding to the grandeur that Hans had no doubt the architects were aiming for. From what he saw, he stood on what must have been at least the third or second tallest building in the surrounding area, and his building was only 4 or so stories high. He then shuffled closer to the edge of the building once he was done stretching and popping his joints, and placed his hands upon the parapet to prop himself as he took a long hard look down at the street below.

It was like looking at a canal of jade-coloured stone. The street below was grand, and despite the density of the buildings, it was wide enough for at most 5 automobiles lined up side by side. It was all brick road, from one side of the street to the other, separated from the buildings themselves with smooth tiles of the same colour. And with a perfectly good street came people to walk on it. Handfuls of people were walking around below, going about their lives, seemingly untouched by war and barbarian bombing raids.

Out of curiosity, Hans would follow the street below him with his eyes, skirting along the parapet of the roof before reaching a corner. He would then walk along this new wall, running his hand along it as he walked, and doing his best to see if there were any signs below he could read. He couldn't read most of the signs from the angle he was looking at, and instead chose to resume following the road. It was then that he noticed something in the corner of his eye. Something large, something white. He couldn't help but tear his eyes away from ground level, and turn them to face the object in his peripheral.

"What the fuck?" His eyes settled on possibly the grandest structure to have ever existed, and definitely the grandest his young eyes had ever seen. A structure of marble, adorned with gold and greyish-purple, stood strong and tall two or three miles away from his position. It was a castle unlike any other. From the gate of the castle came a ruler-straight road, flanked by a legions of other buildings, and came to a stop at what looked to be the town square. How he failed to notice such a structure the night before was baffling.

The young man pressed a hand against his forehead and let it slide up his temple, pushing his hair back as he led his hand to the back of his head. His mind drew a blank as to where he was. Nothing like this existed back in Germany, nor was he aware of anything like this existing anywhere in Europe.

'Is this Prague?'

Some moments after wrapping his head around the idea that he was really lost, he took some time to think of a general plan. This didn't come with ease, as his mind and attention would drift over to the-

"Damn it!" He caught his mind wandering again, and turned his back to the castle in an attempt to remove it from his peripheral, and temporarily remove it from existence. He shut his eyes and thought of his plan. 'Step one: get off the bloody roof.'

Upon opening his eyes, he brought his attention to the three options he had for coming down. If he removed the idea of simply jumping off of the roof, he was down to two. He averted his eyes from the parapets and instead looked to his side.

A lone brick structure jutted out from the roof, where the only unique thing about it was the simple wooden door that was installed on it. Hans figured that behind the door was a staircase leading down to the building, where the occupants could come and go from the roof as they pleased for whatever reason.

The second option appeared to just be a steel ladder running down the side of the building, but after approaching the edge, he saw that the ladder led down to a series of zig-zagging fire escapes. At the bottom was a rather clean alleyway, hidden away from the outside world like a dirty secret. It was a good place to hide and to move around covertly, and he was rather comfortable with them, having spent some time in between buildings during his defense of Berlin.

The boy rationalized that the fire escape would be the best option, as the less he was visible to the general public, the better. He had no idea as to what the people were like, and where their allegiances lay. Until he could gather enough information to come to a conclusion, he would have to do his best to avoid, at the very least, bringing attention to himself. He could very easily bump into someone if he took the stairs all the way down the building.

Satisfied with his plan, the boy moved away from the fire escape and went to prepare his stash for transport. The first course of action was to pick his belt up off of the ground, and buckle it around his waist to a decently snug level. He flipped open each of the 6 ammo pouches on his belt, and being content after seeing that only 4 of them had loaded clips within. While he did plan on staying out of trouble, he didn't want to rule out the possibility of needing more firepower than his pistol.

"Speaking of which..." He mutters as he scans the ground with his eyes, before bending down and picking up the Luger he left there the night before. The boy checked to see if there was any ammunition in the magazine, and that the extractor/ loaded chamber indicator which sat atop the pistol was sticking out, before tucking the weapon into the worn leather holster on his belt. With the weapon at his side, he felt much more at ease than without, as though a wave of comfort and relief came over him like a cool breeze. Hans pats the leather holster and locks his eyes onto his hat, which sat on the ground some few paces ahead of him. After taking a few steps, he bends down and picks the hat up to inspect it with both hands.

He used his thumb to caress the symbol on his hat, matching that of the knife in his possession, as well as the colouring and swastika that was located on his upper left sleeve. Hans took a moment to stare at the symbol, reaching back into the furthest memories in his mind. The swastika was always there. In every classroom, around the street, in the Hitler Youth camps, even in his home. The horde of barbarians and enemies of Germany were fighting tooth and nail to stamp out the symbol and the spirit of the German people, and no matter how many allied propaganda leaflets fell from the sky, the symbol would always mean the same thing to him: Hope, strength, and the love of the Fuhrer. Hans looked to the sky in an attempt to hold his tears back. He owed it to every German to stay alive in this new land.

Hans had plenty of time to ruminate later. After wiping his eyes with a sleeve, he places the hat on his head and spent some time adjusting it. He positioned it so that the hair under the cap didn't bend or curl in an uncomfortable manner, and to ensure that his hair wouldn't stick up in an unsightly manner the next time he'd take his hat off. He'd then turn around and face the castle in the distance, with the sun at his back and a smile on his face. He wasn't going to get much done just standing around on the roof.

It was time he got his boots on the ground.

It must have been some time near or around noon.

The lunar princess would know exactly what time it was had she simply took a quick look at the grand clock that sat against a wall in her chambers. However, the princess' mind was preoccupied at present. She was sat at her study desk, intensely looking down at her piece of parchment, as though she was waiting for more words to appear on the page. Her elbow rested on her desk, and in her palm was her forehead with her horn sticking out between her middle and index finger. As usual, her ethereal hair, bearing the likeness of a beautiful night sky, would gently flow and move as though there was a constant breeze acting upon it. She looked more akin to a student staring down at a tricky question in an exam than one of two sovereigns.

Every now and again, she'd touch quill to paper, but would write no more than one or two words. The last time she checked the time, it was quarter past eleven, and it had been quite a long while since she started. Several crumpled up balls of parchment lay in a pile on the floor beside her desk, a testament to her numerous failures to put her thoughts to paper.

Luna didn't understand. Usually, she didn't have much trouble coming up with paragraphs upon paragraphs to write when it came to sending letters to foreign dignitaries, or to hand write a personal letter to someone or another, but when it came to matters pertaining to herself? She'd struggle. Though, she did admit that she's had to do both those things many times in her life, and it was much easier to do once you learned what to say and who to say it to. This was a different matter entirely. The lunar princess was beyond frustrated.

At her wit's end, she was relegated to simply scrunch up the parchment on her desk and flicked it onto the floor to unite it with its brethren. With a sigh, she places her quill into its holder, and screwed the cap back onto her ink bottle, before turning her attention to the sheet of paper that sat on her bed. The horn on her forehead glowed with a wispy blue aura, the likes of which would envelop the piece of parchment, before it would magically float towards her. Once it was close enough, she reached out with a hand to hold the sheet and brought it in front of her eyes as her horn ceased to glow.

The night before, before she raised the moon for the night, she felt something. A strange feeling that rocked her to her core. After the feeling was gone, she went to immediately writing down a list of "symptoms" and feelings she had within that brief span of time, in the event that she'd forget what exactly she felt.

"'Headache lasting 3-4 seconds. Pins and needles on horn for 6 seconds.' Blah-blah-blah..." She skimmed through the short list, and locked her eyes onto the second-last entry in the list, which sat above 'craving for cookie dough ice cream'.

"'Numerous, pulsing waves of invisible magic lasting approximately 10 seconds. Unknown source.'" She re-read this a few times, imagining the the event in her mind over and over. She couldn't think of a better description of what she felt that night, and any attempts to elaborate further and trying to explain it in a more complex manner currently sat in a messy pile at her feet.

She didn't bring this topic up to her sister yet, as she wasn't sure what she felt was worth mentioning or was of any concern. It was entirely possible that Celestia experienced the same thing as her at the exact time, but it was unlike her sister to not talk to her about it at some point during the night. It was a strange string of events indeed.

Luna sets the piece of paper down on her desk, before pushing herself and her stool away from the table with a her legs. She stood up and neatly tucked the stool underneath the desk, before using her magic to lift up the pile of crumpled paper and depositing them all into the unlit fireplace at the far end of her room. They would serve as adequate fuel for her fire later that night. She'd then stretch her arms above her head, and extend her fingers to the fullest. The princess would also let the purple-blue wings on her back spread out to their furthest. She thought that it would be best to put the matter down for the moment. There were things to get done later in the day, and her sister did mention the day before that there was going to be an event in the Canterlot high street. At around noon.

She kept her arms in the air as she glanced over at her clock for the first time in half-an-hour. She had 15 minutes till noon. With a frown, she folds her dark wings against her back, which had always contrasted her pale, cream skin.

It was then that something caught her eye. Some ink had smudged itself on her forearm and her wrist at some point during her struggle to write. In an un-ladylike fashion, the princess would lick the index finger of her right hand, and rubbed it up against the stain to test it's dryness. The smudge stayed mostly the same, but now she had a stain on her finger.

With a grumble, the second half of the duumvirate marched into her en-suite bathroom to rid her fair skin of the unsightly ink stains. She was fine dressed as she was, but she couldn't be seen with such blemishes on her in public. She wouldn't want to accidentally start some funky, new fashion trend amongst the general public. Again.

Ten to twelve.

Luna was pushing it.

Princess Celestia, co-ruler of Equestria, was leaning against the ornate marble railing of her balcony with both arms, looking down at the vast city that was spread out in front of her. Levitating at her side was a fine ceramic saucer, suspended in the air by the princess' magical golden glow. With a thought, her magic brought her teacup to her lips, and she would take a few dainty sips of the steaming beverage. She closed her eyes as she savored her favorite blend of apple and cinnamon tea, letting it take over her senses for several moments before setting the teacup upon the saucer.

Like many days, it was a good day. Seeing her kingdom basking in the sunlight never failed to fill her with pride, and made her feel at ease. Any worries about the state of the kingdom and concerns about ongoing events melted away when she could simply look down on her kingdom with a cup of tea.

However, it wasn't enough to suppress the thoughts in her mind about the odd phenomenon that occurred yesterday evening. What she felt, what she heard, what she experienced. She couldn't put it into words, nor had she made any attempt to. All she knew was that something was off, and would need to find some time later in the day to find any reading material that could help her figure out just what it was. Celestia wondered if her sister had anything to do with it, or whether her sister felt something similar, but she wouldn't bring it up to her little sister unless Luna brought it up first.

With her tea thoroughly sipped, the princess sets her cup and saucer down on the little table she had on her balcony, before pushing herself up off of the railing and sauntered her way back into her chambers. After positioning herself in the centre of her room, she magically wheeled her standing mirror in front of her to see if there was anything about her toga or hair that needed fixing.

Just like her sister, her tri-coloured hair gently billowed as it hung down from her head. She ran her fingers through it with a smile, having never gotten bored with simply admiring her locks of hair. Despite its appearance, the royal hairdo felt just like any other. It could be cut, styled, wet, just like regular hair, and her personal stylists where specifically trained to work their "magic" on it. She made a note to pay them a visit in the coming weeks. Otherwise, her outfit looked fine. Her simple toga was adorned with numerous golden motifs, and her usual gold tiara sat happily upon her head.

A knock on her door turned her attention from her mirror, which she wheeled back into its corner. The solar princess approached her door and came to a stop at a distance she was happy with, before opening one of the double doors with a hand. The corner of the door narrowly missed her sandaled as it swung open, with the Princess having put to memory the perfect distance to stand.

Behind the door stood her sister, who wore a sheepish smile.

"Good morning, sister..." The shorter of the pair greets, twiddling her fingers behind her.

"Just barely morning," Celestia starts with a smirk, waving her sister inside as she steps back, "Lose track of time, did we?"

The lunar princess followed behind her sister to the middle of the room, and magically shut the door behind her, before being met with a piece of parchment in her face, wrapped in Celestia's magic aura. Luna peels the paper off her face and casts a stink-eye at her sister, who reciprocated with an innocent smile.

"We're afraid so, and we apologize." Luna says before reading the words on the parchment. She lifts a brow at what was written. She didn't have any context for what she was reading in her mind, and looked up at her sister for help. "I understand that this is a short speech, but whatever for?"

Celestia playfully tuts like a disappointed mother to a child, "You've forgotten already?" The solar princess wraps one arm around her midsection, propping the elbow of her other arm on the other's palm, and mocks laughter from behind her raised hand. "Oh ho ho ho~ It seems you might not be excited to go after all~! We might just stay home today~"

Luna furrows her brow as her cheeks begin to glow red from the mock laughter and teasing. "Hold on a moment, sister! You never said anything about going anywhere!" This wasn't true. Celestia clearly brought it up with her the day before.

"Where are we going?" Her question only prompted her older sister to grin wider. "No, I'm being serious. Where?" This caused Celestia to grin like a mad woman. "Whe-"

She was interrupted as a second piece of paper shot forth and stopped right in front of her face. She grabs the paper, placing it in front of the speech so she could read it. It was a brightly coloured poster.

"A "Bake sale"?" She read aloud as her eyes widened. Luna looks up at her sister who nodded excitedly.

With no further words exchanged, they promptly left the bedroom in a mad race to reach the carriages that'd take them to the heart of the city, and in their wake, a pair of stunned guards who stood at attention by the double doors.

Hans grunts as he landed on the ground with bent knees and a thud. He then stood up and straightened out his uniform, before looking up at the fire escape that he climbed down from. The ladder to the last fire escape platform was too high up for him to jump up to, and he surmised that it was a safety feature to ensure that a ne'er-do-well couldn't simply climb up and enter whichever home they pleased. That wasn't to say that it was a long fall for him. In normal conditions, he'd be fine with dropping from such a height, however, he was currently bogged down by the extra weight that hung off of him. Both the Panzerfausts and 98Ks were strapped on his back in a cross formation, with some help from the slings that came attached to the rifles. His sack of ammo was tied to his belt hung from his back like a rattling tail. Finally, both the MP-40 and Volkssturmgewehr hung from their slings on opposing shoulders and thus hanging from opposite sides of his chest.

Keeping himself upright was a task in itself, and comfort was nonexistent, as it had been back in Berlin. As heavy as it was, he didn't dare vocally declare his discomfort. Aryans were the pinnacle of strength, after all, and he had to set an example for his kind.

On his way down, he attempted to sneakily peak through the windows each platform was positioned near, but all of them had their curtains drawn. He was mildly amused by the idea of windows facing the inside of an alley, parallel to the flat, featureless wall of another building, and wondered if he awoke on a slightly older building, and the one next door was constructed later.

He swiveled his head around, and with the help of his turning body, scanned the area around him. There were many passages he could take, but there were only so many corners he could turn before ending up on a public pavement. He wished he'd drawn a rough map based on what he was able to see from the rooftop. Hans placed his hands on his hips, with the SMGs resting conveniently in the loops made by his elbows. The boy was at a loss as to what to do. Now that he was on the ground, all plans flew out the window. His best hope now was to simply pick a direction to go, and navigate the alleyways in this city. He took note of how pleasant the alleyway was. There wasn't much trash around, it wasn't very damp, and while there were a few trashcans sitting around as well as discarded boxes, it was otherwise...nice.

A small gust of wind managed to find its way into the alley, and with it bringing the dust and other trash blowing in by his boots. Caught in the wind was a small, blue paper handout, which twisted and twirled some few inches from the ground, before plastering itself against Hans' leg. This caught the attention of the boy, who carefully lowered himself closer to the ground, in fear of tipping over, and snatched the piece of coloured paper up to inspect.

"Can-ter-lot Bah-ke sa-leh..." Hans mumbled to himself.

He recognized the alphabet, which was a good sign. He could sound out what was written, but otherwise couldn't really understand it. The language on the paper was clearly English, and that was a cause of concern for the young German. The British and the Americans spoke it, and he was pretty sure that Father Deutschland was at war with them. However, Hans was also sure that the city he was standing in did not exist, nor was he familiar with the architectural style. Was there a neutral English-speaking country in Europe?

On the subject of familiarity, while he could not understand the words on the paper, he did understand some other elements. Numbers. More specifically, time.

"12:15" He read aloud, before turning his gaze skywards. Before he came down, it did look like the sun was nearing the highest point in it's arc. Whatever the paper was advertising, it looked like it was happening at a time close to what Hans probably thought it was now. The boy then turned his attention to yet another element he could recognize on the paper. It was an array of cakes, with a delicious cartoon of a cupcake sitting in the centre, and several other baked goods branching out from either side of it. Some tents and stands were also present on the handout, indicating that it was a fair of some description.

He caught himself staring at the treats for some time, before tearing his eyes away from the page. He could do with some cakes.

Gurgle

Hans presses a hand against his suffering stomach and frowns. He could really do with anything right now.

With the page in his hand, Hans turns towards one of the many mouths of the alley. He'd have to scout around for food. He wouldn't get anything to eat at all if he stood around. He knew that he'd have to do his best to sneak around between alleys, and run across streets into more alleys. None of the items on his back would make his clandestine scouting any easier or quieter.

The young soldier then looked to one of the many boxes laying about in the alley. If he wanted the best possible chance to feed himself as quickly and quietly as possible, he'd need to shed some weight, and hide it.

Author's Note

Second chapter "improved" slightly. Feels great coming back to this story, and fleshing it out.

(Old notes)
Second Chapter done and dusted. I really need to work on pacing. I feel as if I'm going to fast. Hopefull I'll overcome that in due time.