An Interdimensional Adventure of Astronomical Calculationsby uonlyseemeatpartiesChaptersChapter 0: The Prologue: A short introduction for You, the reader (Slowly Going Insane), taking place before the actual problems of the tale begin.Chapter 1: The Start of The Chaos: Reagan the 1st: A brief Introduction after the Introduction, showcasing the possibilities of future confusions and crossovers, a simplistic yet convoluted commencement.Chapter 2: The Return of the Reich: Hitler the 1st: A Precursor to events slowly about to unravel, The prologue to an epic war. The alternate reality of Britain and German: Queen Eliza: The Last Monarchist.Chapter 0: The Prologue: A short introduction for You, the reader (Slowly Going Insane), taking place before the actual problems of the tale begin.Twilight was happy. Very very happy to be honest. She was currently buried in a pile of books 13.4 feet deep, she had measured, doing research for her beloved Princess Celestia. She had been whisked away from Ponyville the night before, brought away from the small village almost immediately to the royal library. Celestia had called for her help to research a new type of theoretical teleportation spell. A young scientist had recently achieved a breakthrough regarding this type of transportation that involved warping the fabric of the universe to move the the target of the spell for a fraction of the normal energy required. However all of the experts were stumped as to implantation of practical application of the new genre of spell. Twilight was, of course, there to assist the royal researchers in realizing such a practical application. This meant, of course, upending nearly the entire royal library in search of any shred of material that could assist Twilight in her task. She had compiled everything from "The Little Fillies and Colts Introduction to Trans-Planar Object Manipulation and Sub-Quantum Space-Time Manipulation" to "Haxdom and Wentleforth's Guide to Moving Objects Really Fast, Like Almost Instantly Really, From One Spot Over Here To Another Spot Waaaaaay Over There Using That Oh So Special Pointy Horn of Yours 3rd Edition" This plethora of scholarly tomes was suddenly added to as a small young colt groaned, struggling into the cramped study area Twilight occupied, a large load of books piled onto his back. With an exhalation of relief he unceremoniously dumped the new books onto the edge of the growing pile. Managing to stammer out, "H-here's the next collection of books you asked for Miss Twilight Sparkle Ma'am." Before the young mare had even time to thank the poor young colt, he scampered off, either urged on by his duty to the mare or perhaps fear of reprisal by his superiors if he did not fulfill said duty. With a light smile Twilight inspected the new books, measuring each and piling them, seemingly in some sort of order, in the growing precarious pile placed in front of her. A little hum of "14.4 Meters now." accompanied a sudden crash, and a frightened and horrified yelp of the purple mare as the precarious towers collapsed. Books flying everywhere, her odd yet calculated system of organization failing as she was suddenly surrounded by a sea of tomes in disarray. Stumbling up to here feet Twilight inspected the terrifying situation, her mind reeling as she tried to determine the best way to get her self back on track, when suddenly, a book caught her eye. It was different from the rest, small, almost the size of a journal. It had no title on the cover nor the spine. The fabric it was bound in was dark, black with just a bit of a reddish tinge to it, almost leathery in feel. It drew her attention, made her forget about everything else, Twilight simply had to know what was in that book. It drew her to it, entrapped her in it's allure. With a shaky hoof the purple mare dragged it towards her. She floated the novel up to her face, the desire to learn what it contained pressed her ever onward, yet in the back of her head she felt a distinct wrongness. A sense of foreboding, of dread, of doom, simply emanating from the worn cover of the small tome. With great trepidation she slowly, ever so slowly, inched open the book. As the pages began to unfold in front of her, Twilight felt her mind begin to swirl. The text, or what should have been the text, shifted and swayed, twisting softly in front of her snout. The letters changing to strange shapes, changing position, forming symbols and words and thoughts that had no definition or meaning in her world, yet who's meaning was instantly communicated to her mind. Her head began to ache, the pages spinning in her head as they communicated some sort of arcane and dark secret to her feeble mortal mind. The room around her grew dark, the thoughts of ancient evils, of demons, of plans spanning thousands upon thousands of years in creation, of terrible realizations and forbidden magics. She unconsciously began to mumble words, a chant of an ancient order, long extinct and long forgotten. The mares horn lit up, shining brightly in the small chamber, illuminating the books, candles, and various papers surrounding her. A thin light magical etching, brilliant yellowish-gold in color, illuminating the floor, spreading out in a circle, starting at Twilight. The ground underneath her began to shift, words forming in midair, an ethereal metaphysical present of a thought, floating and expressing their definition and ideal as the mare was drawn further and further into the seemingly satanic realm of the book. She could feel reality start to bend, twisting and shivering around her, yet she had to continue, not only was the book forcing her to, but she wanted to... needed to! This was what she was looking for! This spell, the execution of it, it's end result! It would provide her with the knowledge she needed to help Celestia and her researchers finish their studies! A low rumbling filled her mind. Shaking her thoughts, looking away from the book for a second she could see the rest of the room. It's contents jumbled, warping not only their shapes but also their very being. The information contained within their pages changing and shifting as the reality around them shifted and twisted, threatening to snap and break any second. Almost fearfully Twilight turned back to the pages of the text, not stopping her reading, or eldritch equivalent, as the logic of her mind was slowly eroded away, the thoughts and images spiraling into her mind as she did her best to contain the spell as it spread further and further, seeping out of the room as her sight grew progressively darker and darker. As she felt her vision fade, her control of the spell left as well, it's reaches spreading out farther and farther until she could see no more. Even the book with it's strange and unaccounted for power ceased to pump it's horrid knowledge into her mind. Shivering from an unfelt cold, Twilight blinked, trying to make out for even a second anything that might reveal where she was. Suddenly a deep booming laugh resounded in her ears and mind, feeling some strange and horrid presence grow closer and closer to her before with a light and truly rather terrible chuckle, some ancient being slowly said the word "Congeria" before snapping it's fingers. A brief spark lighting up the location of twilight, her mind reeled as for a moment she realized that she was witness to the entirety of everything, she was contained and present not only physically at the center of reality, but also spiritually. And in that very moment, right before her consciousness was about to be destroyed by the sheer magnitude of what she was suddenly witness to, the young mare fainted, and everything went to nothing. Reality became a void. Containing nothing, but present with everything. Chapter 1: The Start of The Chaos: Reagan the 1st: A brief Introduction after the Introduction, showcasing the possibilities of future confusions and crossovers, a simplistic yet convoluted commencement.Reagan leaned back, staring at the large and rather imposing metal door in front of him. A large cuban cigar held tight in his mouth, the smoke curling up slowly, drifting throughout the enclosed room. A secret service agent standing on either side of the great man, his form framed by the dark brown leather chair he was seated in. The figures on either side of the president remained standing, not moving in their crisp suits, keeping their attention focused on an imaginary point off in the distant as their charge held himself deep in thought upon various subjects. A small collection of files was present in Ronald's lap, held together by paperclips, staples, and a manila folder. The words "TOP SECRET: FOR AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY" stamped in a dark red across nearly every sheet contained within the detailed file. The man idly flipped through the various notifications and briefings, his mind elsewhere as smoke blew out his nose. Glancing once again up at the door, sighing, leaning back into a stretch as he carefully weighed his options. With a sigh Reagan stretched his arms out before him, cocking his wrists as he flicked the sleeves of his expertly tailored jacket back. Standing up, bringing his cigar down to his side. Breathing in contemplatively as he tapped the cigar lightly with a finger, the ashes falling off the end. Taking a moment to extinguish it in a nearby ash tray, Reagan closed his eyes for just a moment before stepping intently forward reaching out to open the metal door. Pausing again, turning to look back at the two agents, his voice firm, commanding, demanding, "Bring it. Now. We don't have any time to waste." One of the agents nodding as he scurried off to fetch some item for the Commander in Chief. Turning back again to the door, Reagan stepped through, looking around the dark, barely lit room, a light grimace on his face as he peered through the yellowish interior. The only things present in the room were two hard wooden chairs, bolted in an odd fashion to the floor, and a single table, it's strong yet slim metal legs seeming to extend down into the cement underneath the Presidents feet. It's cool slightly shining surface holding a single circular object, wooden, small holes created in the shape of a star pressed into it's surface. In short: A Chinese Checkers board. Arching his back lightly, the president adjusted his tie, bringing his hands to the side, slowly starting to slide his suit off, the dark black material smoothly falling off of his broad shoulders, revealing an crisp, sharp, and blindly white tailored shirt. The smooth fabric almost shining in the darkened room as Reagan laid his jacked upon the chair in front of him. With a critical look down at the table the President tilted his chiseled jaw upwards, grimacing again before loosening his tie, his strong hands moved up to his neck. The presidents fingers deftly unbuttoning each individual button. His hairy and chiseled chest slowly revealed as the door behind him creaked slowly open. One of the agents quickly running in, looking down at the ground almost submissively as placing a large bottle of baby oil on the table in front of the president. With a timid, "Here you are sir." the agent slowly backed away, keeping his eyes targeted at the ground before stepping out of the dimly lit room. The metal door swinging shut with an ominous clang, leaving the president by himself. Solitary, stoic, an image of calculated handsome, the President sat in one of the chairs, the well built man brought his fingers to his temples, slowly massaging, obviously preparing for the approaching storm. Steeling himself, the elected leader of the United States threw off his shirt, the thin white fabric floating slowly to the ground, left in his dark black slacks, staring at the other door, a slight smirk coming to his face, stretching his arms out, intertwining his fingers, cracking his knuckles before sitting back down before the table. A twinkle in his eyes as he says softly to himself, "All change in America begins at the dinner table…. Chinese checkers in this case…" With a smile to himself the President opened bottle of baby oil, closing his eyes ever so slightly before bringing the bottle up above him, letting a thin line dribble down onto his hairy, masculine, and muscular chest, reaching up with his second hand to slowly rub the smooth liquid across his body. Up, across his pecs, a light little masculine gasp of excitement fluttering out of his lips as he lets a finger travel slowly over a nipple. One eye widening a bit before Ronald Reagan brought his now smooth and shining hand slowly travel down his chest, over his stomach. His black spirited hair covering his chest, like a thick rug of manliness, a testament to democracy and freedom. The presidents sprightly fingers slip, slide, slowly, slightly scouring the surface of his skin, the baby oil covering his body in a shiny sheen of excellence. His abs, chiseled under a thin protective layer of fat, giving the great man the image of a powerlifter. Giving a squirt to the bottle, Reagan caused a splash of fluid to pour out onto his lower stomach. Eyeing the door with a mischievous smile, the president slowly massaged the oil down against his happy trial, that slightly thinner pathway to the hidden surprise, his very own Washington Monument. Giving an especially rigorous squeeze, Ronald splashes a huge amount of the liquid onto his shining chest, placing the half used bottle down next to the checkerboard, pausing for a moment before slowly sliding his hands down along his biceps, the strong muscles flexing in the shining oil before moving down to his forearms, painting the president in a rather stunning figure. His black slacks a shocking contrast to the bronzed shining and muscled figure of his upper body. Stretching his arms out in a silent display of dominance, he flexed, his biceps glimmering in the dim light, taking on the appearance of a greek god. Chuckling to himself the president leaned back on the bar stool. Hooking his feet against the legs of the table, he gave a lusty grin to the metal door opposing him, eyeing it as he slowly rubbed a finger in a circle around his shining nipple, a noticeable bulge pressing up against his black slacks. _______________________ Quite possibly one of the worst feelings in the world is waking up. While it is true one may have a good morning, or feel rested after a short nap. Being forced from that sweet comforting comatose state of sleep is one that all those who haven't been lobotomized by God dread. In fact, there are few thoughts that rival the hideousness of the simple phrase, "Fuck, I'm awake." On a side note however, thoughts that could perchance rival such a thought are "Well at least my blood won't stain noticeably on this red shirt," "Oh that's nice, I could use a long hot shower after that cramped train ride," and the realization that the labels have fallen off your containers of nutella and vegemite and that you must now play a deadly game of toast roulette. Twilight awoke thinking none of these things. After having been knocked rather unconscious by whatever magical spell she had casted from that little devil of a book she awoke to a rather curious scene. That of having absolutely no idea where in Equestria she was. With a rather loud groan the purple mare stood up, casting a glance around the room, what in fact seemed to be a large metal container, the cast iron walls dimly lit by a solitary bulb hanging a meter or two above her head. The object that caught her eye was the large, and very imposing metal door planted firmly in front of her, almost challenging her to a silent and rather secret duel that neither knew the rules for. Shaking herself slightly the purple mare mentally checked her body over for any signs of harm, other than a few slight bruises she seemed to be alright. With that sudden realization the young mare felt her fur stand on end, just as if someone were watching her. Spinning around in surprise, the unicorn came face to face with too decently sized stallions. Their imposing figures towering over her, fur dyed pitch black, a large hammer and sickle painted on their plots, replacing whatever cutie marks they may have had before hand. As the mare stood stunned silently sorting through several thoughts, none of which aligned with the events that occurred next. The two stallions brought their hooves up to a quick, snappy, and obviously heavily drilled salute. Speaking in loud tones, their voices heavy with a russian accent. "COMRADE SPARKLE, IT IS OF A PLEASING TO US THAT YOU HAVE AWOKEN!" they said in unison, their deep voices resonating through the room as the purple pony winced at the sheer volume of their announcement. Taking a step back she stared at the two ponies unsure how to respond to such an enthusiastic greeting. Either her reaction alerting them to their own volume or only their introductions were shouted with such gusto as their voices quieted to a somewhat more tolerable level of talking rather loudly. "It is of greatest importance that you are to be prepared for the negotiations." One said. Staring at him Twilight responded with, "What negotiations? Where am I what-" only to be cut off by the second, "It is of the standard negotiation procedure. The initial staging is of course carried out by you! As our best operative, you must defeat their greatest player, the President of the name Reagan in only the most glorious of battles." "A… Battle?" The purple unicorn stared at the two large figures, taking a step backwards, "B-but I don't know how to fight! I'm a scholar! I make books! Not war…" The two stallions shared a momentary glance at each other before letting out a roaring howl of laughter, pausing to grin widely at each other before breaking again into an uproarious cackling howl. The poor mare simply stood, dumbfounded as she gazed at the two strange figures. "The joking of you is most excellent." The two stallions shouted, in an odd near unison. An odd grin lighting upon their mouths in creepy unison as they took a step towards her. "It was not of to our knowledge that the great purple one was of the joking type, no?" the first said. "We are of being pleasure that you find time to joke! Yet now we must move to work! First we show usual party diplomacy reminder!" The second responded with, not giving the poor unicorn even a chance to get a word in edgewise. As Twilight stood in a shocked silence and confusion, the two stallions quickly set to work, one moving quickly to a table Twilight hadn't noticed earlier in the room, beginning to mix together some stew of various chemicals and herbs. The other reaching up with his teeth to pull down a white projector screen. Ears lowered, Twilight almost jumped as the room dimmed, still trying to piece everything together as a movie began to roll onto the screen before her. A nationalistic band starred playing as a grainy image flicked onto the screen, a stout and handsome looking stallion, the hammer and sickle painted on his flank standing out on his black coat as he flashed a sparkling white and very communistic smile to the camera. "It is of very many hello's that I greet to you great party comrade!" He enthusiastically said, voice smooth, trustworthy, and most definitely not bourgeoisie. Walking to the left, the camera panned to follow the stallion, a warm and hearty smile sailing across his muzzle as a group of youths run past him. One pauses to salute the older stallion, giving a hearty chuckle the elder ruffles the mane of the small child before turning back to the camera. "As you are of being in the state of awareness, Diplomacy is of the most greatest importance to the benefit and health of the state. Here in great Union of Socialist States we have worked with the capitalist pigs to develop a form of Diplomacy that will not end in the causing of use of great and powerful nuclear weapons." The stallion on the screen paused, turning to look at the horizon, a column of soldiers marching past as fireworks exploded in the air, a crowd of smiling mares and cheering fillies and colts following the parade as a man on one float smiled and waved to the following ponies. "Hahaha!" the forced laugh seeming very awkward as the stallion looked back to the camera, "Such is the life of our great and all-knowing leader, making sure that all are being of happy." "Anyways, continuing with discussion. As a diplomacy member person Comrade, you must attempt to ensure that we are put into a great position of diplomatic meaning upon conclusion of the game. As you have been in the briefing of such states before we will skip the game telling. It is with the wishes of our great leader and the whole of our great socialist union of nations that I wish you of the greatest luck diplomacy comrade!" With a smile, wink, and a salute the video suddenly ended. The lights in the room flashing back on, the projector screen flashing with a clatter back to the ceiling. Twilight simply sat, her rear on the cold hard floor as she looked around her in utter confusion. In all of her years as a student under Princess Celestia she had never been put in a situation even remotely close to this. Not only did she have no idea what to do, but she was at a loss for what might even be going on. It was because of this that she did not initially notice the large needle being plunged into the side of her plot by one of the two stallions, with a loud declaration of, "It is of success!" a strange liquid was injected into the mare. Eeping in both shock and surprise, Twilight opened her mouth to yell at the pony when the metal door in front of her suddenly swung open with a cacophonic clang. As she stood up, taking a few steps back as she squinted trying to discern what might be hidden in the darkened room a pair of hooves met her rear as the second stallion promptly bucked her. Shouting out again in surprise Twilight stumbled, tumbling into the room, tripping over her own hooves as the metal door clanged shut behind her. Shakily getting to her hooves the young mare looked around, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the light. Mouth opening in shock as she was greeted by the strangest sight she had seen since the whipped cream fiasco between Rarity and a group of Diamond Dogs. A bipedal creature, seemingly male by his… figure, almost apelike in his make up, a grin on his face with an oil covering his rather muscled body. Twilight stood, staring in a strange combination of awe, shock, and terror as the creature extended a hand to the purple mare, his voice deep, comforting, and oh so very masculine. "Why hello there purple mare. The descriptions don't quite do me justice do they?" Reagan grinned, flexing as he winked at the mare. "Please take a seat, I'd love to chat but I both know we're busy individuals… we should get the diplomacy game out of the way as soon as possible. The names Reagan by the way… Ronald Reagan…" Chapter 2: The Return of the Reich: Hitler the 1st: A Precursor to events slowly about to unravel, The prologue to an epic war. The alternate reality of Britain and German: Queen Eliza: The Last Monarchist.Tea. Milk. Sugar. Monarchy. Long ago, the four great elements existed together in harmony. Then, everything changed when Germany attacked. Only the Queen, master of all four elements, could stop them, but when the world needed her most, she vanished. A decade has passed and my brother and I discovered the next queen, a Monarchist named Eliza. And although her powers of Aristocracy are great, she still has a lot to learn before she’s ready to save anyone. But I believe Eliza can save the world. ——— Hitler stared down at the map, his eyes focused, intent, carefully examining the grand strategy laid out before him. Hand shaking, barely containing his immense rage as he just managed to pull his small pair of spectacles off of his face. Placing them down onto the table in front of him. His face twitching, jaw shaking just slightly as he remained with face downcast. Voice somehow calm despite the horrible news just given to him. “The following men will stay here: Keitel, Jodl, Krebs, and Burgdorf….” The Führer sat, shaking as the loyal leaders of his army stood uncertainly, slowly turning around as they shuffled out of the room. Leaving only Hitler’s closest men. He sat, pausing to think as he surveyed the room, still shaking with rage before he exploded into a shout. Slamming his fist down on the wooden table as the generals watched. “That was an ORDER! Steiner’s assault was an ORDER! Who do you think you are to dare disobey an order that I give?” A crowd of germans stood, gathered outside of the private room. The thin wooden door unable to quite the shouting of the leader of the Nazi party. A young woman sniffled, looking down at the ground as she began to softly cry, her friend doing her best to comfort her. The rest of the individuals in the room standing, ashamed, nervous, and just a bit guilty. Hitler continued his rant. “The military, everybody has been LYING to me… Even the SS! Our Generals are just a bunch of contemptible, disloyal cowards.” He raged as he stood up, shaking his finger at the men around the room as his piercing words of fear at their impending defeat ricocheted throughout the bunker. One of the men, interrupted, speaking quickly, looking away ashamed, yet knowing the duty he owed to his own men. “I can’t permit you to insult the soldiers-“ “They are COWARDS, TRAITORS, AND FAILURES!” “Mein Führer, this is outrageous!” “Our Generals are the scum of the German people!” Hitler said, throwing the pencil’s held in his hand down against the table, the thin pieces of wood clattering to the floor as he continued. “Not a shred of honor! They call themselves Generals! Years at a military academy just to learn how to hold a knife and fork! For years, the military has hindered my plans! They’ve put every kind of obstacle in my way! What I should have done is liquidate all the high ranking offices as Stalin did!” The Führer paused, slowly lowering himself back into his chair as he paused breathing heavily, sweat sliding down against his dominant jawline as he caught his breath, composing himself. “No… I never went to an academy… and yet…. yet I have conquered Europe all by myself!” slamming his fists against his chest as he looked around at the men watching him. “Traitors! I’ve been betrayed and deceived from the very beginning…. No… It won’t end like this…” He placed his palms against the table, bringing himself halfway out of his chair, breathing heavily as a silence slowly fell over the room. Not a sound to be heard as the man thought, calming himself down, his shaking slowly subsiding. He reached a hand forward, shakily bringing his glasses back up to his face as he tilted his eyes up, looking around the room once more, slowly lowering a finger down to the map, point to a small building marked just outside of Berlin. “It won’t end this way… I conquered Europe… I was the one who lead the charge… I’ve just been to lazy… I have let Germany do too much work…. It was I who was supposed to lead us into the conquest of the world… I… Must apologize…” His voice was softer now, less threatening, “It was not my place to accuse the generals of betraying me… nor the SS. They were only following my orders, and I simply gave too much for them to do.” The room sat, a silent tension filled the air once again. Each party seeing if the other had something to say. Yet time went on, no one even moved. Hitler sat in silence, staring down at the paper in front of him, sweat dripping down, face held in concentration. It seemed obvious, he was deciding on something, something grave. Something beyond reason, a last ditch strategy that would have sounded insane even in the most dire of circumstances. Yet the situation was dire. Beyond dire. The wolves were clawing at the door. The third reich was falling. And Hitler. Hitler had a plan. Slowly tapping his finger against the small factory marked on the map, his voice a near whisper as he began to shake again. This time not in rage, but in fear. Fear of what he was about to release upon the world, upon his enemies. The generals could barely hear him as he spoke. “Bring… Bring Blondi to my private chambers… and… and…” he paused, still trying to decide if he really should go through with this, exhaling, knowing that he must. He looked up at his closest men, speaking surely, without a waver in his voice. “And prepare to initiate der Zephyr von Orgasmus Glasphotonenkanonen.” He paused, looking around at the men present, silently waiting for one of them to protest. A few had opened their mouths eyes wide as they prepared to let out a shout of denial, wanting to say, “But… Mein Führer… we can’t! We shouldn’t!” yet no one wanted to be the first. No one could be the first. Everyone in that room silently knew… they must activate that one technology. The one technology that should never have been thought up in the first place. _______ Blondi. Gorgeous. Radiant. Stunning. A Goddess. She was the perfect definition of the Aryan race. She was a pegasus. A glorious eagle of the sky. Fit to take the ranks among those blonde haired blue eyed gentleman that made up the nobility of the third Reich’s future. She had a golden mane, velvety soft, flowing down around her body like a soft cushion of angelic hope. Her fur, the most radiant, unblemished white one had ever set their eyes on. Her eyes. Large. Radiant. The most wondrous pure blue a human had ever witnessed. Her wings, regal, nearly perfect, able to stretch out far along side her, able to be poised just perfectly to frame her appearance as an angel to any who might observe her. But what set her most apart from her contemporaries. Was a small mark, embezzled on her flank. The black a stark contrast to the white of her fur. Not touched by ink, nor brand, nor any sort of alteration. Was the most glorious Swastika, proudly shown on her rear for all of the third reich to see. She was a symbol of the third reich. She was Hitler’s unofficial second in command. To all of Germany she was a glorious example of what could be, and what was to come. She sat looking in a mirror at her brilliant frame, a brush running through her mane. Of course a goddess like her had attendants. They scurried around her constantly, humans and ponies alike. Chosen by her. They kept her in a state of bliss, made sure that everything about her remained perfect. Not just for her, but also for the Führer. In her eyes he was the perfect man. She desired no one else, she lived for no one else. Just as the third reich was created by Hitler, so too was Blondi created by him, at least that’s what she thought. She was not worried about the impending doom that seemed to face Germany. She had more than perfect faith in the National Socialist party. She was more than certain of their victory… Even if all of Europe was destroyed. Even if every German man, woman, and child were killed. Deutschland would persist. Somehow the Third Reich would live on. Somehow, the joy, happiness, and yes, even love would be spread to the rest of the world. She smiled at her reflection. It was a smile that she had practiced many times before. She had practiced it for Hitler. She jumped slightly in her seat, startled by the loud and sudden ‘fwump!’ of a pneumatic tube. A message had been sent to her. She motioned to one of her maids, and the letter was promptly brought before her. Held in front of her face for her to see as she read the document. A smile came to her face as she saw that Hitler had called for her, the smile quickly broke into a blush, an astonished grin of absolute joy and happiness as she read that she had been called to his chambers. HIS!!! She giggled with glee, clapping her hooves together as she bounded out of her resting spot, moving quickly to her door as she turned around, blushing with radiant happiness and pride as she asked her attendants, speaking softly, “Muss ich gut aus?” her smile only growing ever larger as they nodded, pride beaming in their eyes as they sent the young mare out to meet her glorious leader. —— —— Blondi cautiously stepped into the room. Her heart beating oh so rapidly, her breath quickening as she wondered what the Führer needed her for. Of course she had many fantasies regarding him and the empire. Serving the Führer, providing for the Führer… Pleasing the Führer most of all. Her tiny silken body nearly leapt at the perverse excitement that single thought gave. As she looked through the doorway she saw him. HIM. Hitler! Her glorious leader. Her Führer. Everything she had every loved and hoped and dreamed for. She stepped, ever so cautiously into the room. She stared, a shiver running down her spine as she looked into the ornately decorated room. She hadn’t been in here before. She had never been permitted in here before, let alone invited. As she looked in, she saw him, in her mind he was glorious, absolute, beyond the simple restrictions of human kind. He was perfect. She stepped into the room, she saw him, wearing the Wehrmacht uniform, standing at attention as she entered. Her heart fluttered. His medals adorned his chest, showing his valor and courage, his body was wrapped up in that patriotic bliss, that epitome of Duestch power and glory. She couldn’t deal with the totality of his presence, it brought her courage, it brought her hope, it made her wet. He turned to look towards her, a slight smile on his face, overshadowed by the solemn way in which he greeted her, “Hello Blondi my dear.” simple, straight-forward, perfect. He stepped towards her, and she stepped towards him. His dress shoes making soft sounds against the floor, simliar to the sound of her own hooves as they brought their bodies close to each other. He crouched down, a slight smile just underneath his thin little mustache. His voice was soft, liquid gold to her ears, “We have activated die Glasphotonenkanonen. I need you now my darling… It’s time for us to serve our country….. But before that I thought… well… that you and I could spend one last moment together.” as his voice drifted off Hitler brought up a hand to run along the jawline of the mare in front of him, hope, excitement and love pressed forward in his eyes as he viewed the small creature. Bringing his hands underneath her, her breath nearly stopped, eyes wide in excitement, as he picked her up, his face close to hers, lips almost brushing up against her own as he stared into her stark blue eyes, a blush on his own face as he slowly carried her over to the bed of his private chambers. The door slamming closed.
Chapter 0: The Prologue: A short introduction for You, the reader (Slowly Going Insane), taking place before the actual problems of the tale begin.Twilight was happy. Very very happy to be honest. She was currently buried in a pile of books 13.4 feet deep, she had measured, doing research for her beloved Princess Celestia. She had been whisked away from Ponyville the night before, brought away from the small village almost immediately to the royal library. Celestia had called for her help to research a new type of theoretical teleportation spell. A young scientist had recently achieved a breakthrough regarding this type of transportation that involved warping the fabric of the universe to move the the target of the spell for a fraction of the normal energy required. However all of the experts were stumped as to implantation of practical application of the new genre of spell. Twilight was, of course, there to assist the royal researchers in realizing such a practical application. This meant, of course, upending nearly the entire royal library in search of any shred of material that could assist Twilight in her task. She had compiled everything from "The Little Fillies and Colts Introduction to Trans-Planar Object Manipulation and Sub-Quantum Space-Time Manipulation" to "Haxdom and Wentleforth's Guide to Moving Objects Really Fast, Like Almost Instantly Really, From One Spot Over Here To Another Spot Waaaaaay Over There Using That Oh So Special Pointy Horn of Yours 3rd Edition" This plethora of scholarly tomes was suddenly added to as a small young colt groaned, struggling into the cramped study area Twilight occupied, a large load of books piled onto his back. With an exhalation of relief he unceremoniously dumped the new books onto the edge of the growing pile. Managing to stammer out, "H-here's the next collection of books you asked for Miss Twilight Sparkle Ma'am." Before the young mare had even time to thank the poor young colt, he scampered off, either urged on by his duty to the mare or perhaps fear of reprisal by his superiors if he did not fulfill said duty. With a light smile Twilight inspected the new books, measuring each and piling them, seemingly in some sort of order, in the growing precarious pile placed in front of her. A little hum of "14.4 Meters now." accompanied a sudden crash, and a frightened and horrified yelp of the purple mare as the precarious towers collapsed. Books flying everywhere, her odd yet calculated system of organization failing as she was suddenly surrounded by a sea of tomes in disarray. Stumbling up to here feet Twilight inspected the terrifying situation, her mind reeling as she tried to determine the best way to get her self back on track, when suddenly, a book caught her eye. It was different from the rest, small, almost the size of a journal. It had no title on the cover nor the spine. The fabric it was bound in was dark, black with just a bit of a reddish tinge to it, almost leathery in feel. It drew her attention, made her forget about everything else, Twilight simply had to know what was in that book. It drew her to it, entrapped her in it's allure. With a shaky hoof the purple mare dragged it towards her. She floated the novel up to her face, the desire to learn what it contained pressed her ever onward, yet in the back of her head she felt a distinct wrongness. A sense of foreboding, of dread, of doom, simply emanating from the worn cover of the small tome. With great trepidation she slowly, ever so slowly, inched open the book. As the pages began to unfold in front of her, Twilight felt her mind begin to swirl. The text, or what should have been the text, shifted and swayed, twisting softly in front of her snout. The letters changing to strange shapes, changing position, forming symbols and words and thoughts that had no definition or meaning in her world, yet who's meaning was instantly communicated to her mind. Her head began to ache, the pages spinning in her head as they communicated some sort of arcane and dark secret to her feeble mortal mind. The room around her grew dark, the thoughts of ancient evils, of demons, of plans spanning thousands upon thousands of years in creation, of terrible realizations and forbidden magics. She unconsciously began to mumble words, a chant of an ancient order, long extinct and long forgotten. The mares horn lit up, shining brightly in the small chamber, illuminating the books, candles, and various papers surrounding her. A thin light magical etching, brilliant yellowish-gold in color, illuminating the floor, spreading out in a circle, starting at Twilight. The ground underneath her began to shift, words forming in midair, an ethereal metaphysical present of a thought, floating and expressing their definition and ideal as the mare was drawn further and further into the seemingly satanic realm of the book. She could feel reality start to bend, twisting and shivering around her, yet she had to continue, not only was the book forcing her to, but she wanted to... needed to! This was what she was looking for! This spell, the execution of it, it's end result! It would provide her with the knowledge she needed to help Celestia and her researchers finish their studies! A low rumbling filled her mind. Shaking her thoughts, looking away from the book for a second she could see the rest of the room. It's contents jumbled, warping not only their shapes but also their very being. The information contained within their pages changing and shifting as the reality around them shifted and twisted, threatening to snap and break any second. Almost fearfully Twilight turned back to the pages of the text, not stopping her reading, or eldritch equivalent, as the logic of her mind was slowly eroded away, the thoughts and images spiraling into her mind as she did her best to contain the spell as it spread further and further, seeping out of the room as her sight grew progressively darker and darker. As she felt her vision fade, her control of the spell left as well, it's reaches spreading out farther and farther until she could see no more. Even the book with it's strange and unaccounted for power ceased to pump it's horrid knowledge into her mind. Shivering from an unfelt cold, Twilight blinked, trying to make out for even a second anything that might reveal where she was. Suddenly a deep booming laugh resounded in her ears and mind, feeling some strange and horrid presence grow closer and closer to her before with a light and truly rather terrible chuckle, some ancient being slowly said the word "Congeria" before snapping it's fingers. A brief spark lighting up the location of twilight, her mind reeled as for a moment she realized that she was witness to the entirety of everything, she was contained and present not only physically at the center of reality, but also spiritually. And in that very moment, right before her consciousness was about to be destroyed by the sheer magnitude of what she was suddenly witness to, the young mare fainted, and everything went to nothing. Reality became a void. Containing nothing, but present with everything.
Chapter 1: The Start of The Chaos: Reagan the 1st: A brief Introduction after the Introduction, showcasing the possibilities of future confusions and crossovers, a simplistic yet convoluted commencement.Reagan leaned back, staring at the large and rather imposing metal door in front of him. A large cuban cigar held tight in his mouth, the smoke curling up slowly, drifting throughout the enclosed room. A secret service agent standing on either side of the great man, his form framed by the dark brown leather chair he was seated in. The figures on either side of the president remained standing, not moving in their crisp suits, keeping their attention focused on an imaginary point off in the distant as their charge held himself deep in thought upon various subjects. A small collection of files was present in Ronald's lap, held together by paperclips, staples, and a manila folder. The words "TOP SECRET: FOR AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY" stamped in a dark red across nearly every sheet contained within the detailed file. The man idly flipped through the various notifications and briefings, his mind elsewhere as smoke blew out his nose. Glancing once again up at the door, sighing, leaning back into a stretch as he carefully weighed his options. With a sigh Reagan stretched his arms out before him, cocking his wrists as he flicked the sleeves of his expertly tailored jacket back. Standing up, bringing his cigar down to his side. Breathing in contemplatively as he tapped the cigar lightly with a finger, the ashes falling off the end. Taking a moment to extinguish it in a nearby ash tray, Reagan closed his eyes for just a moment before stepping intently forward reaching out to open the metal door. Pausing again, turning to look back at the two agents, his voice firm, commanding, demanding, "Bring it. Now. We don't have any time to waste." One of the agents nodding as he scurried off to fetch some item for the Commander in Chief. Turning back again to the door, Reagan stepped through, looking around the dark, barely lit room, a light grimace on his face as he peered through the yellowish interior. The only things present in the room were two hard wooden chairs, bolted in an odd fashion to the floor, and a single table, it's strong yet slim metal legs seeming to extend down into the cement underneath the Presidents feet. It's cool slightly shining surface holding a single circular object, wooden, small holes created in the shape of a star pressed into it's surface. In short: A Chinese Checkers board. Arching his back lightly, the president adjusted his tie, bringing his hands to the side, slowly starting to slide his suit off, the dark black material smoothly falling off of his broad shoulders, revealing an crisp, sharp, and blindly white tailored shirt. The smooth fabric almost shining in the darkened room as Reagan laid his jacked upon the chair in front of him. With a critical look down at the table the President tilted his chiseled jaw upwards, grimacing again before loosening his tie, his strong hands moved up to his neck. The presidents fingers deftly unbuttoning each individual button. His hairy and chiseled chest slowly revealed as the door behind him creaked slowly open. One of the agents quickly running in, looking down at the ground almost submissively as placing a large bottle of baby oil on the table in front of the president. With a timid, "Here you are sir." the agent slowly backed away, keeping his eyes targeted at the ground before stepping out of the dimly lit room. The metal door swinging shut with an ominous clang, leaving the president by himself. Solitary, stoic, an image of calculated handsome, the President sat in one of the chairs, the well built man brought his fingers to his temples, slowly massaging, obviously preparing for the approaching storm. Steeling himself, the elected leader of the United States threw off his shirt, the thin white fabric floating slowly to the ground, left in his dark black slacks, staring at the other door, a slight smirk coming to his face, stretching his arms out, intertwining his fingers, cracking his knuckles before sitting back down before the table. A twinkle in his eyes as he says softly to himself, "All change in America begins at the dinner table…. Chinese checkers in this case…" With a smile to himself the President opened bottle of baby oil, closing his eyes ever so slightly before bringing the bottle up above him, letting a thin line dribble down onto his hairy, masculine, and muscular chest, reaching up with his second hand to slowly rub the smooth liquid across his body. Up, across his pecs, a light little masculine gasp of excitement fluttering out of his lips as he lets a finger travel slowly over a nipple. One eye widening a bit before Ronald Reagan brought his now smooth and shining hand slowly travel down his chest, over his stomach. His black spirited hair covering his chest, like a thick rug of manliness, a testament to democracy and freedom. The presidents sprightly fingers slip, slide, slowly, slightly scouring the surface of his skin, the baby oil covering his body in a shiny sheen of excellence. His abs, chiseled under a thin protective layer of fat, giving the great man the image of a powerlifter. Giving a squirt to the bottle, Reagan caused a splash of fluid to pour out onto his lower stomach. Eyeing the door with a mischievous smile, the president slowly massaged the oil down against his happy trial, that slightly thinner pathway to the hidden surprise, his very own Washington Monument. Giving an especially rigorous squeeze, Ronald splashes a huge amount of the liquid onto his shining chest, placing the half used bottle down next to the checkerboard, pausing for a moment before slowly sliding his hands down along his biceps, the strong muscles flexing in the shining oil before moving down to his forearms, painting the president in a rather stunning figure. His black slacks a shocking contrast to the bronzed shining and muscled figure of his upper body. Stretching his arms out in a silent display of dominance, he flexed, his biceps glimmering in the dim light, taking on the appearance of a greek god. Chuckling to himself the president leaned back on the bar stool. Hooking his feet against the legs of the table, he gave a lusty grin to the metal door opposing him, eyeing it as he slowly rubbed a finger in a circle around his shining nipple, a noticeable bulge pressing up against his black slacks. _______________________ Quite possibly one of the worst feelings in the world is waking up. While it is true one may have a good morning, or feel rested after a short nap. Being forced from that sweet comforting comatose state of sleep is one that all those who haven't been lobotomized by God dread. In fact, there are few thoughts that rival the hideousness of the simple phrase, "Fuck, I'm awake." On a side note however, thoughts that could perchance rival such a thought are "Well at least my blood won't stain noticeably on this red shirt," "Oh that's nice, I could use a long hot shower after that cramped train ride," and the realization that the labels have fallen off your containers of nutella and vegemite and that you must now play a deadly game of toast roulette. Twilight awoke thinking none of these things. After having been knocked rather unconscious by whatever magical spell she had casted from that little devil of a book she awoke to a rather curious scene. That of having absolutely no idea where in Equestria she was. With a rather loud groan the purple mare stood up, casting a glance around the room, what in fact seemed to be a large metal container, the cast iron walls dimly lit by a solitary bulb hanging a meter or two above her head. The object that caught her eye was the large, and very imposing metal door planted firmly in front of her, almost challenging her to a silent and rather secret duel that neither knew the rules for. Shaking herself slightly the purple mare mentally checked her body over for any signs of harm, other than a few slight bruises she seemed to be alright. With that sudden realization the young mare felt her fur stand on end, just as if someone were watching her. Spinning around in surprise, the unicorn came face to face with too decently sized stallions. Their imposing figures towering over her, fur dyed pitch black, a large hammer and sickle painted on their plots, replacing whatever cutie marks they may have had before hand. As the mare stood stunned silently sorting through several thoughts, none of which aligned with the events that occurred next. The two stallions brought their hooves up to a quick, snappy, and obviously heavily drilled salute. Speaking in loud tones, their voices heavy with a russian accent. "COMRADE SPARKLE, IT IS OF A PLEASING TO US THAT YOU HAVE AWOKEN!" they said in unison, their deep voices resonating through the room as the purple pony winced at the sheer volume of their announcement. Taking a step back she stared at the two ponies unsure how to respond to such an enthusiastic greeting. Either her reaction alerting them to their own volume or only their introductions were shouted with such gusto as their voices quieted to a somewhat more tolerable level of talking rather loudly. "It is of greatest importance that you are to be prepared for the negotiations." One said. Staring at him Twilight responded with, "What negotiations? Where am I what-" only to be cut off by the second, "It is of the standard negotiation procedure. The initial staging is of course carried out by you! As our best operative, you must defeat their greatest player, the President of the name Reagan in only the most glorious of battles." "A… Battle?" The purple unicorn stared at the two large figures, taking a step backwards, "B-but I don't know how to fight! I'm a scholar! I make books! Not war…" The two stallions shared a momentary glance at each other before letting out a roaring howl of laughter, pausing to grin widely at each other before breaking again into an uproarious cackling howl. The poor mare simply stood, dumbfounded as she gazed at the two strange figures. "The joking of you is most excellent." The two stallions shouted, in an odd near unison. An odd grin lighting upon their mouths in creepy unison as they took a step towards her. "It was not of to our knowledge that the great purple one was of the joking type, no?" the first said. "We are of being pleasure that you find time to joke! Yet now we must move to work! First we show usual party diplomacy reminder!" The second responded with, not giving the poor unicorn even a chance to get a word in edgewise. As Twilight stood in a shocked silence and confusion, the two stallions quickly set to work, one moving quickly to a table Twilight hadn't noticed earlier in the room, beginning to mix together some stew of various chemicals and herbs. The other reaching up with his teeth to pull down a white projector screen. Ears lowered, Twilight almost jumped as the room dimmed, still trying to piece everything together as a movie began to roll onto the screen before her. A nationalistic band starred playing as a grainy image flicked onto the screen, a stout and handsome looking stallion, the hammer and sickle painted on his flank standing out on his black coat as he flashed a sparkling white and very communistic smile to the camera. "It is of very many hello's that I greet to you great party comrade!" He enthusiastically said, voice smooth, trustworthy, and most definitely not bourgeoisie. Walking to the left, the camera panned to follow the stallion, a warm and hearty smile sailing across his muzzle as a group of youths run past him. One pauses to salute the older stallion, giving a hearty chuckle the elder ruffles the mane of the small child before turning back to the camera. "As you are of being in the state of awareness, Diplomacy is of the most greatest importance to the benefit and health of the state. Here in great Union of Socialist States we have worked with the capitalist pigs to develop a form of Diplomacy that will not end in the causing of use of great and powerful nuclear weapons." The stallion on the screen paused, turning to look at the horizon, a column of soldiers marching past as fireworks exploded in the air, a crowd of smiling mares and cheering fillies and colts following the parade as a man on one float smiled and waved to the following ponies. "Hahaha!" the forced laugh seeming very awkward as the stallion looked back to the camera, "Such is the life of our great and all-knowing leader, making sure that all are being of happy." "Anyways, continuing with discussion. As a diplomacy member person Comrade, you must attempt to ensure that we are put into a great position of diplomatic meaning upon conclusion of the game. As you have been in the briefing of such states before we will skip the game telling. It is with the wishes of our great leader and the whole of our great socialist union of nations that I wish you of the greatest luck diplomacy comrade!" With a smile, wink, and a salute the video suddenly ended. The lights in the room flashing back on, the projector screen flashing with a clatter back to the ceiling. Twilight simply sat, her rear on the cold hard floor as she looked around her in utter confusion. In all of her years as a student under Princess Celestia she had never been put in a situation even remotely close to this. Not only did she have no idea what to do, but she was at a loss for what might even be going on. It was because of this that she did not initially notice the large needle being plunged into the side of her plot by one of the two stallions, with a loud declaration of, "It is of success!" a strange liquid was injected into the mare. Eeping in both shock and surprise, Twilight opened her mouth to yell at the pony when the metal door in front of her suddenly swung open with a cacophonic clang. As she stood up, taking a few steps back as she squinted trying to discern what might be hidden in the darkened room a pair of hooves met her rear as the second stallion promptly bucked her. Shouting out again in surprise Twilight stumbled, tumbling into the room, tripping over her own hooves as the metal door clanged shut behind her. Shakily getting to her hooves the young mare looked around, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the light. Mouth opening in shock as she was greeted by the strangest sight she had seen since the whipped cream fiasco between Rarity and a group of Diamond Dogs. A bipedal creature, seemingly male by his… figure, almost apelike in his make up, a grin on his face with an oil covering his rather muscled body. Twilight stood, staring in a strange combination of awe, shock, and terror as the creature extended a hand to the purple mare, his voice deep, comforting, and oh so very masculine. "Why hello there purple mare. The descriptions don't quite do me justice do they?" Reagan grinned, flexing as he winked at the mare. "Please take a seat, I'd love to chat but I both know we're busy individuals… we should get the diplomacy game out of the way as soon as possible. The names Reagan by the way… Ronald Reagan…"
Chapter 2: The Return of the Reich: Hitler the 1st: A Precursor to events slowly about to unravel, The prologue to an epic war. The alternate reality of Britain and German: Queen Eliza: The Last Monarchist.Tea. Milk. Sugar. Monarchy. Long ago, the four great elements existed together in harmony. Then, everything changed when Germany attacked. Only the Queen, master of all four elements, could stop them, but when the world needed her most, she vanished. A decade has passed and my brother and I discovered the next queen, a Monarchist named Eliza. And although her powers of Aristocracy are great, she still has a lot to learn before she’s ready to save anyone. But I believe Eliza can save the world. ——— Hitler stared down at the map, his eyes focused, intent, carefully examining the grand strategy laid out before him. Hand shaking, barely containing his immense rage as he just managed to pull his small pair of spectacles off of his face. Placing them down onto the table in front of him. His face twitching, jaw shaking just slightly as he remained with face downcast. Voice somehow calm despite the horrible news just given to him. “The following men will stay here: Keitel, Jodl, Krebs, and Burgdorf….” The Führer sat, shaking as the loyal leaders of his army stood uncertainly, slowly turning around as they shuffled out of the room. Leaving only Hitler’s closest men. He sat, pausing to think as he surveyed the room, still shaking with rage before he exploded into a shout. Slamming his fist down on the wooden table as the generals watched. “That was an ORDER! Steiner’s assault was an ORDER! Who do you think you are to dare disobey an order that I give?” A crowd of germans stood, gathered outside of the private room. The thin wooden door unable to quite the shouting of the leader of the Nazi party. A young woman sniffled, looking down at the ground as she began to softly cry, her friend doing her best to comfort her. The rest of the individuals in the room standing, ashamed, nervous, and just a bit guilty. Hitler continued his rant. “The military, everybody has been LYING to me… Even the SS! Our Generals are just a bunch of contemptible, disloyal cowards.” He raged as he stood up, shaking his finger at the men around the room as his piercing words of fear at their impending defeat ricocheted throughout the bunker. One of the men, interrupted, speaking quickly, looking away ashamed, yet knowing the duty he owed to his own men. “I can’t permit you to insult the soldiers-“ “They are COWARDS, TRAITORS, AND FAILURES!” “Mein Führer, this is outrageous!” “Our Generals are the scum of the German people!” Hitler said, throwing the pencil’s held in his hand down against the table, the thin pieces of wood clattering to the floor as he continued. “Not a shred of honor! They call themselves Generals! Years at a military academy just to learn how to hold a knife and fork! For years, the military has hindered my plans! They’ve put every kind of obstacle in my way! What I should have done is liquidate all the high ranking offices as Stalin did!” The Führer paused, slowly lowering himself back into his chair as he paused breathing heavily, sweat sliding down against his dominant jawline as he caught his breath, composing himself. “No… I never went to an academy… and yet…. yet I have conquered Europe all by myself!” slamming his fists against his chest as he looked around at the men watching him. “Traitors! I’ve been betrayed and deceived from the very beginning…. No… It won’t end like this…” He placed his palms against the table, bringing himself halfway out of his chair, breathing heavily as a silence slowly fell over the room. Not a sound to be heard as the man thought, calming himself down, his shaking slowly subsiding. He reached a hand forward, shakily bringing his glasses back up to his face as he tilted his eyes up, looking around the room once more, slowly lowering a finger down to the map, point to a small building marked just outside of Berlin. “It won’t end this way… I conquered Europe… I was the one who lead the charge… I’ve just been to lazy… I have let Germany do too much work…. It was I who was supposed to lead us into the conquest of the world… I… Must apologize…” His voice was softer now, less threatening, “It was not my place to accuse the generals of betraying me… nor the SS. They were only following my orders, and I simply gave too much for them to do.” The room sat, a silent tension filled the air once again. Each party seeing if the other had something to say. Yet time went on, no one even moved. Hitler sat in silence, staring down at the paper in front of him, sweat dripping down, face held in concentration. It seemed obvious, he was deciding on something, something grave. Something beyond reason, a last ditch strategy that would have sounded insane even in the most dire of circumstances. Yet the situation was dire. Beyond dire. The wolves were clawing at the door. The third reich was falling. And Hitler. Hitler had a plan. Slowly tapping his finger against the small factory marked on the map, his voice a near whisper as he began to shake again. This time not in rage, but in fear. Fear of what he was about to release upon the world, upon his enemies. The generals could barely hear him as he spoke. “Bring… Bring Blondi to my private chambers… and… and…” he paused, still trying to decide if he really should go through with this, exhaling, knowing that he must. He looked up at his closest men, speaking surely, without a waver in his voice. “And prepare to initiate der Zephyr von Orgasmus Glasphotonenkanonen.” He paused, looking around at the men present, silently waiting for one of them to protest. A few had opened their mouths eyes wide as they prepared to let out a shout of denial, wanting to say, “But… Mein Führer… we can’t! We shouldn’t!” yet no one wanted to be the first. No one could be the first. Everyone in that room silently knew… they must activate that one technology. The one technology that should never have been thought up in the first place. _______ Blondi. Gorgeous. Radiant. Stunning. A Goddess. She was the perfect definition of the Aryan race. She was a pegasus. A glorious eagle of the sky. Fit to take the ranks among those blonde haired blue eyed gentleman that made up the nobility of the third Reich’s future. She had a golden mane, velvety soft, flowing down around her body like a soft cushion of angelic hope. Her fur, the most radiant, unblemished white one had ever set their eyes on. Her eyes. Large. Radiant. The most wondrous pure blue a human had ever witnessed. Her wings, regal, nearly perfect, able to stretch out far along side her, able to be poised just perfectly to frame her appearance as an angel to any who might observe her. But what set her most apart from her contemporaries. Was a small mark, embezzled on her flank. The black a stark contrast to the white of her fur. Not touched by ink, nor brand, nor any sort of alteration. Was the most glorious Swastika, proudly shown on her rear for all of the third reich to see. She was a symbol of the third reich. She was Hitler’s unofficial second in command. To all of Germany she was a glorious example of what could be, and what was to come. She sat looking in a mirror at her brilliant frame, a brush running through her mane. Of course a goddess like her had attendants. They scurried around her constantly, humans and ponies alike. Chosen by her. They kept her in a state of bliss, made sure that everything about her remained perfect. Not just for her, but also for the Führer. In her eyes he was the perfect man. She desired no one else, she lived for no one else. Just as the third reich was created by Hitler, so too was Blondi created by him, at least that’s what she thought. She was not worried about the impending doom that seemed to face Germany. She had more than perfect faith in the National Socialist party. She was more than certain of their victory… Even if all of Europe was destroyed. Even if every German man, woman, and child were killed. Deutschland would persist. Somehow the Third Reich would live on. Somehow, the joy, happiness, and yes, even love would be spread to the rest of the world. She smiled at her reflection. It was a smile that she had practiced many times before. She had practiced it for Hitler. She jumped slightly in her seat, startled by the loud and sudden ‘fwump!’ of a pneumatic tube. A message had been sent to her. She motioned to one of her maids, and the letter was promptly brought before her. Held in front of her face for her to see as she read the document. A smile came to her face as she saw that Hitler had called for her, the smile quickly broke into a blush, an astonished grin of absolute joy and happiness as she read that she had been called to his chambers. HIS!!! She giggled with glee, clapping her hooves together as she bounded out of her resting spot, moving quickly to her door as she turned around, blushing with radiant happiness and pride as she asked her attendants, speaking softly, “Muss ich gut aus?” her smile only growing ever larger as they nodded, pride beaming in their eyes as they sent the young mare out to meet her glorious leader. —— —— Blondi cautiously stepped into the room. Her heart beating oh so rapidly, her breath quickening as she wondered what the Führer needed her for. Of course she had many fantasies regarding him and the empire. Serving the Führer, providing for the Führer… Pleasing the Führer most of all. Her tiny silken body nearly leapt at the perverse excitement that single thought gave. As she looked through the doorway she saw him. HIM. Hitler! Her glorious leader. Her Führer. Everything she had every loved and hoped and dreamed for. She stepped, ever so cautiously into the room. She stared, a shiver running down her spine as she looked into the ornately decorated room. She hadn’t been in here before. She had never been permitted in here before, let alone invited. As she looked in, she saw him, in her mind he was glorious, absolute, beyond the simple restrictions of human kind. He was perfect. She stepped into the room, she saw him, wearing the Wehrmacht uniform, standing at attention as she entered. Her heart fluttered. His medals adorned his chest, showing his valor and courage, his body was wrapped up in that patriotic bliss, that epitome of Duestch power and glory. She couldn’t deal with the totality of his presence, it brought her courage, it brought her hope, it made her wet. He turned to look towards her, a slight smile on his face, overshadowed by the solemn way in which he greeted her, “Hello Blondi my dear.” simple, straight-forward, perfect. He stepped towards her, and she stepped towards him. His dress shoes making soft sounds against the floor, simliar to the sound of her own hooves as they brought their bodies close to each other. He crouched down, a slight smile just underneath his thin little mustache. His voice was soft, liquid gold to her ears, “We have activated die Glasphotonenkanonen. I need you now my darling… It’s time for us to serve our country….. But before that I thought… well… that you and I could spend one last moment together.” as his voice drifted off Hitler brought up a hand to run along the jawline of the mare in front of him, hope, excitement and love pressed forward in his eyes as he viewed the small creature. Bringing his hands underneath her, her breath nearly stopped, eyes wide in excitement, as he picked her up, his face close to hers, lips almost brushing up against her own as he stared into her stark blue eyes, a blush on his own face as he slowly carried her over to the bed of his private chambers. The door slamming closed.
