Humpdays 3

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Prologue 2

Antarctica,
Present day.


The entity known as Mr. Black walked down the hallway of the former research facility of the Third Reich. Had he been a mortal man, the climate inside might have been best described as chilly and dank. But he was no simple being of flesh and blood. The cold, steel walls, left rusted and pitted by their former owners decades ago were both aesthetically pleasing to him at the same time saddening. So much potential... so much effort only for naught. This place was more of a tomb than a monument. He paused for a moment at the blood red flag that had been freshly hung to the left of him. The same symbol the Third Reich had used was again being used by the so-called Fourth one. An emblem that brought revulsion and hatred from its opponents and stirred the blood and emotions of those that idolized it. That humans could be brought to such heights and dropped to such lows by a twisted black swastika always fascinated him. Then again a great deal of these creatures also prayed nightly to the symbol of a carpenter nailed to a wooden cross. A platoon of genetically engineered soldiers passed by him, donning warmer clothing and gas masks, their long blonde hair trailed out from behind the nylon straps. He could sense their eyes on him as they passed by. A harmless looking man in jet black finery standing and staring at their symbol of hope and revolution. He could almost taste their fear.


Black walked on, slowly making his way deeper and deeper into the bowels of this frozen fortress. Several other patrols passed him and he made his way around several work details, quickly moving to restore and upgrade the facility. Not one of them stopped him in his travels, but they all stopped to watch him pass by. His presence here was eerie and unnatural. Some of the soldiers and officers had seen him before and gave him a wide berth as if he were the angel of death itself. He turned at a certain point and passed through a series of security details. High-tech automated weaponry had been brought in here and installed as well as a legion of the Reich's most highly trained and dangerous commandos. Muscular amazonian woman, all Aryan in appearance and all armed to the teeth guarded the final chambers to their master. None of them made eye contact as he passed among them and made his way to the back of the room. Several heavy steel blast doors lay open before him as he continued into the heart of the installation. Terry Keller was here, unsurprisingly. The giantess was the Reichsführer's personal bodyguard and last line of defense. Built like a tank and able to regenerate all but the most grievous of wounds, the massive woman was leaning against a floor mounted gatling gun of the same proportions as it's operator. She gave an almost imperceptible nod of the head to him as he passed by her and into the inner sanctum.


As Black entered the chamber he was greeted by the sound of Wagner, coming from a record player. This room was unlike the rest of the facility. It more resembled a plush and highly furnished office and bedchamber than a military center of power. The walls were adorned with runes and paintings, the floor bedecked in the furs of great bears and other animals. To the right was a large, four-poster bed with silken sheets along with a bevy of antique furniture and trappings. A life-size portrait of Hitler hung next to a full-length mirror here. To the left, the setting was more in keeping with an office with a heavy oaken desk and several tables with maps and blueprints of the facility. A series of lap-top computers covered most of the desk and on the far side of the room directly across from him was wall to wall monitors. They showed in full color every corner, hallway and chamber in the fortress. Ilsa Hauppman stood in front of the monitors, her back turned towards him. She clearly knew he was here so there was no need to speak until she acknowledged his presence. After a long moment she turned around. Black had spent a great deal of time around Ilsa and had become accustomed to her range of emotions and facial expressions. The one she wore at the moment seem to be one of confidence, with an almost coy smile. Given what had happened the last several months, it took him a bit by surprise. He arched an eyebrow as she approached him.


"Herr Schwarz, welcome to Jötunheimr. What do you think so far?"


"I thought you were keeping yourself in your true form at all times...or at least that was what I had been told."


Ilsa chuckled. "I feel perfectly safe when you are here Herr Schwarz. Besides, I prefer to speak with you face to face old friend."


Black nodded.


"How are things in Angel Falls?" she began, moving to a makeshift bar she had behind her desk and mixing herself a drink.


"Strangely quiet of late. No major activity, nothing out of the ordinary." he replied quietly.


"And the Iron Chancellor?" Ilsa asked as she finished pouring her refreshment, bringing it to her lips.


Black watched her for a moment. The Chancellor, Hermann von Trotha, was an old adversary from her dimension that had come here to wrest her organization and resources from her. He was a lot of things she was not: organized, coldly logical, not wrapping himself with the trappings of the past and most of all patient. A brilliant human mind that had shed his fragile, human shell, there was a part of Black that admired von Trotha. The Reich under his leadership would have been a completely different beast, one more devoted to science and technology and the merging of man and machine. Part of Black was disappointed that he had failed as it would have been interesting to see unfold. Von Trotha had made a series of critical errors in his takeover and it had been enough for Ilsa to wrestle back control over the majority of her Reich. It had however left its mark on her. She had become more paranoid and secluded. She had moved her base of operations all the way down here to the frozen ice of Antarctica. He had heard rumors that she was walking around all the time as Genocide, clad in armor fashioned to resemble the ancient Norse gods and claimed that she was the daughter of Thor...among other things. It was somewhat puzzling then to see her here, in her old uniform, sipping alcohol and listening to her beloved opera. Perhaps his intelligence had been wrong? Perhaps she was merely putting on a charade for his benefit. He was unsure. Ilsa was one of the most complicated and dangerous humans he had ever encountered. Legions were dead at her hand and by her command and she had seen the wonders of the Holocaust firsthand. The woman was brilliantly insane and possessed a soul almost as black as his own... which is what he found so intriguing about her and intoxicating about her presence.


He knew that she felt the same way about him.


"Nothing from the Chancellor as of yet. He and his splinter group have gone to ground it would seem."


Ilsa nodded and finished her drink, swiftly pouring herself another one of the same. "It's a shame no-one could have stopped him earlier...someone with all manner of supernatural powers that even a pompous ass like von Trotha admitted he was afraid of."


"I am not one of your soldiers Ilsa, nor am I a lapdog or bodyguard." Black replied without tone or inflection.


"Despite all that we have shared together!" Ilsa snarled.


"Rest assured that had I thought he would have harmed you I would have intervened. He needed you to fully attempt his takeover and you emerged victorious in the end, as I had predicted you would. This entire affair has made you the stronger for it, has it not Ilsa? You always emerge stronger and triumphant in the end. I told you once I would do anything in my power to see you make this world yours and I am not one to give my word lightly."


The Reichsführer's cold, blue eyes bored into his unfeeling black orbs before she brought her crystal glass back up to her lips. Her heart had jumped and her hands now trembled beneath her red leather gloves. She was as a jilted lover and it fascinated him all the more as she spoke. "You did not come all this way to flatter me did you Herr Schwarz?"


"No I did not. I wanted to let you know that I will be engaging some of the higher-level Metahumans in the city soon to consume them and take their Essence. I require much more power than what I have been subsisting on with normal humans. Things may be chaotic in Angel Falls for a time and in fairness to your operations there, I felt obligated to tell you so you could make the necessary arrangements."


"You are finally beginning your end-game aren't you?" she asked putting down her glass.


"Yes Fraulein. I wanted to tell you in person. It may be some time before I am able to see you again."


Ilsa took a step forward and around the desk towards him. The same blazing hatred for humanity had been stoked in her eyes, like stirring a log that has sat upon the smoking ashes for too long. She reached out and took a hold of his hand. It was cold and gave no warmth. Regardless, this woman that he had come to...appreciate leaned forward as if to kiss him on his lips, only to stop just short.


"Nein. Your operations will have to wait." she spoke quietly, looking up into his pale face. There was no reaction from him.


"As I said," he began, "I am not your servant and I am not one of your soldiers. I do not have to ask for permission from you. Things have been put into motion."


"Then do it as a courtesy to me. My own machinations that have been in the works for years are finally coming to fruition. Within a very short period of time I will finally be rid of my oldest and most hated of enemies."


"The Soviet Superwoman." Black said into her face, his voice almost a whisper. "Tell me more about your plans. Perhaps our goals can align on his matter Fraulein."


"It involves her own countrymen in a turn of delicious irony. Outside of that I have no want or desire to share my plans as of yet, as you have never fully explained what your own endgame will be to me. I wish to keep it a surprise for now."


After a long moment Black slowly nodded his head. "Very well. Let us say I am intrigued enough to put my own plans on hold...but only for a short time Ilsa. I will not wait very long."


"That is all I ask old friend. Now come and sit with me for awhile. You came all this way after all...and Ragnarök is coming sooner than we think." Ilsa purred with a dangerous smile.


Black couldn't help but agree with her. The end was coming.

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The base where this takes place:

The following characters were used with permission:

owns Ilsa Hauppman aka Genocide.

owns Mr. Black and Terry Keller.

This story takes place in the universe.

Continued: