Lord Wolfenstein.

This was the name given by the mystery of a man that had managed to earn the position of Spymaster in Kain’s cabinet. Even to Kain and Alexis this man was an impossible to solve riddle. He looked human, but they could instinctually tell that he was not. His ability to seemingly be anywhere and everywhere in an instant and his constantly shifting appearance led Kain to assume he was some kind of paradoxical existence, a being from a higher tier of reality than himself, but this was pure speculation. Either way, this being had managed to at least prove that he was not Kain’s foe and that his interests at least partially aligned with his, for now at least…

Everything that Lord Wolfenstein had predicted had come true and every bit of intel he provided was 100% accurate. Therefore, despite his misgivings about having a being so whimsical and yet so deadly serious heading up any branch of his nation he had to acknowledge that he had yet to be disappointed in this ‘man’ and his talents. Kain had no godly idea how Lord Wolfenstein got his info, which seemed to surpass his own personal intelligence gathering abilities by an immeasurable margin, but results were results and this new bit of intel was given at just the right time.

When better to prepare for Heroes than before they had been summoned? He now knew that his hunch had been correct and knowing is half the battle. Still, he needed hard, factual proof before he could plot his next course of action. Did they have the time needed to defeat the Knightly Junta, or would the Heroes be an dangerous interference in his current campaign?

“I need proof that they are indeed summoning Heroes, Lord Wolfenstein. I cannot expect Darksol to move on rumors alone. Thus, I request that you explain this situation and provide me with evidence to back up your claim.”

Kain knew better than to demand anything from Lord Wolfenstein. Last time he did so he immediately regretted it. Without going into too many details, Lord Wolfenstein had responded unfavorably to the demand and Kain had not enjoyed the aftermath. If there was one thing that Kain never wanted to see again after that it was a toddler’s television program. Being forced to live for a week in a world that would be ideal for young children to watch as television programming was not something he ever wanted to go through again. What made it worse was that he didn’t have his powers and was forced to go along with everything there.

“Certainly, my good sir.”

Lord Wolfenstein snapped his fingers and Kain’s head throbbed like it had just experienced a migraine of apocalyptic proportions. Kain’s regenerative factor kept him conscious for the whole thing and it was only thanks to that and his absurd willpower that he managed to keep from collapsing. The pain subsided as quickly as it set in and Kain now knew everything he needed to.

“For the love of… Could you please just give me a dossier like a normal Spymaster instead of shoving all that information into my head?”

The edges of Lord Wolfenstein’s mouth crept up slightly before his stoic mask overcame his mood.

“That would take too long. Besides, now you know all that is needed to deal with this potential threat. Is that not better than having to read a bunch of files and having me explain things over a few hours?”

Kain sighed as he rubbed his temples.

“I can’t say that you are wrong…”

“Wonderful. Now if you will excuse me, there is a matter I must attend to elsewhere. Please, continue without me, not that I won’t hear and see what is going on here to begin with.”

The aftershocks of the sudden migraine had vanished and Kain was pain free. Sighing internally, he turned to Erwin Krueger, the de facto ruler of the new state that they had founded.

“I assume he already briefed you in another way, but in the event that he didn’t do so we have roughly three and a half months to get this war over with before the Heroes are summoned. If we can’t crush their resistance before then, we will be in for a major headache. On the plus side, you will be happy to know that the Undead forces currently in the field will slowly be being replaced with more powerful, yet less numerous variations. The first major releases from this next generation of Undead have already been field tested in live combat, namely the ballistae and trebuchets. Expect the Skeleton Warriors to be phased out and replaced sometime soon, although it will take time to generate that many individual units.”

Kain paused, and waited for his words to sink in.

“So, unless it is impossible, I expect the Knightly Junta to be defeated before the end of the next month. You may request anything needed to deal with them, including but not limited to additional armies, siege weapons and mage support. In addition, I myself will be taking to the field.”

The assembled mortals murmured amongst themselves. With Kain himself entering combat, could anything stand in the way and live to tell about it?

“I will be focusing on destroying the festungs n the central cluster around Berlin. However, if you require my aid, I will be willing to assist you. Should you find yourself in need of additional power and the normal forces just are not cutting it, I will gladly come to back you up. Your people and the world expect great things from you, so don’t disappoint them.”

The planning session had only just begun, as had Teutonia’s finale.

…

In a room that was neither here, there nor anywhere and both existed and yet did not, a certain being was sitting at a desk and going over a list of names, countries and genders. This being was very selective about who it was going to pick for its task, not that they had a snowball’s chance in hell of succeeding. Then again, there never was such a thing as 100% certainty of defeat, merely a non-zero chance for victory. The odds were highly against them, but this didn’t bother the being at all. It had a job to do, and bringing these selected individuals to a particular world in a particular universe in a particular timeline at a set place in time was paramount to its unknowable plans moving forward.

“Nagato Yamagishi, Japan. Alice Wordsworth, England. Kristof Handel, Germany. Kevin Smith, United States of America. Jesus Mendoza, Mexico. Vladimir Makarov, Russia. Pierre Duchamp, France. And finally,…”

The being paused and sighed as it read the last name.

“Wakanda Jones, also United States of America… Of course he’s from America... Only in America do people name their kids these things…”

The being paused as it looked over the dossier regarding the last selected person.

“Damn. This kid has had it rough… Seriously. Can’t envy his position, in his world or the one he will be going to. That is not the kind of life that makes a decent person, yet he is definitely the least terrible of the lot of them. Actually, he seems like he doesn't fit with this group at all! Yep, having someone decent among this many douchebags has got to be a clerical error, yet I kinda want to see what happens when he gets to Mortis. How he managed to last that long on Earth without something going horribly wrong for him is beyond even me. Gotta put it up to the luck of the draw. Let’s hope you don’t get killed when you get there, or at least let's hope that you don’t end up being broken. I just hope that what’s-his-face doesn’t just kill him, torture him or worse…”

The being observed each of the individuals in their world, living their lives like nothing could go wrong. Boy, were they in for a surprise. The being kinda felt bad for them. They would be taken from a life that was quite luxurious and forced to live and die at the behest of a religion they had no interest or investment in. But rules were rules and the powers that be had declared that this must be so. The being chuckled to itself as it marveled at how even an existence like itself was still stuck dealing with higher-ups and disagreeable work, just like the beings of a lower tiered existence than itself.

The being pressed a button on its desk and the paper of approved names vanished from the being’s colorful yet colorless domain. Would the higher-ups approve of the names, or would they send it back for it to add more or remove some? Sure enough the paper returned but with a sticky note attached to it.

The note merely read in black sharpie, “Needs list of powers. Remember, 1 each! Don’t repeat the same mistakes as your predecessor! 1 POWER EACH!”

The being leaned back in its chair and looked at the non-existent yet existent clock on the non-existent yet existent wall. There was still time to go before break, and it still had a mountain of paperwork to finish before it could even consider taking its break.

“Lucky mortals. State mandated breaks and lunches and their employers have to allow them to take them. This is why we need unions in this plane…”

The being couldn’t wait to go back to Mortis to muck about a bit more. But, then again, that was a work-related activity as well….

“I swear, sometimes it isn’t easy being a…. wait, what am I anyways?”

The being’s question echoed out through the infinite yet finite world it was in, with no one and nothing to answer it.