**Nazi Germany - Morning**
"Camera on, you idiots!"
A tall woman stood in the middle of a bustling Berlin street, her black suit crisp and professional, her bob-cut hair perfectly styled. She adjusted her posture, putting on a bright smile despite the fact that no one was actually watching her stream yet.
"Well, well, well, looks like my audience is ready!" Ravina declared with a smirk, speaking to the empty air as if addressing millions. Her voice carried that particular quality of forced enthusiasm that all content creators adopted loud, energetic, relentlessly positive even when nothing warranted positivity.
The "cameraman" was actually a robot she'd designed herself a floating sphere with a high-quality camera lens, programmed to follow her movements and capture her from the most flattering angles. It hovered silently beside her, its red recording light blinking steadily.
"Today we will go and donate money to kids, and I hope you like this video and follow us for more!" she announced, her voice so loud that passersby turned to stare with expressions ranging from confusion to irritation. She spoke as if she were already a big YouTuber with millions of subscribers, rather than someone with barely three hundred followers, most of whom were bots she'd created herself.
"Well, well, well, let's see..." She tapped her chin thoughtfully, playing up the performance even though her viewership counter still read zero. "We need to go to the station. There will be poor kids there. Perfect for today's charity content!"
She made her way through the streets of Berlin, her robot camera following obediently. The city was a strange blend of old and new
classical German architecture standing alongside sleek modern buildings, traditional cobblestone streets running parallel to elevated tracks where trains flew through the air on electromagnetic rails.
Nazi Germany had transformed significantly since its resurgence. The regime had embraced technology with frightening efficiency, creating a society that was simultaneously advanced and oppressive. Flying trains crisscrossed the sky like metallic birds, and robots humanoid machines with synthetic skin stretched over metal frames
performed most menial labor.
Ravina arrived at the central station, a massive structure of steel and glass where the flying trains docked at elevated platforms. Robots in conductor uniforms moved through the crowds, scanning tickets with emotionless efficiency. Their faces were designed to look human, but something was fundamentally wrong with them the expressions never quite matched the context, the movements too precise, the eyes too empty.
Ravina scanned the station, looking for her targets. She needed poor kids, preferably ones who looked desperate enough to make good content. The more pathetic they appeared, the better her charity would look by comparison.
Then she spotted them a group of five children, maybe eight to ten years old, huddled near one of the station's support columns. Their clothes were worn and dirty, their faces smudged with grime. Perfect.
A predatory smirk crossed Ravina's face. "Well, well, well, I got some!" She turned to her robot camera. "Open the camera! Start recording!"
The robot's lens focused, the red light glowing brighter to indicate active recording.
"So guys, I'm your host Ravina, and I've got some poor kids here who need some charity!" Her voice was unbearably loud, drawing attention from everyone nearby. The children looked up at her with a mixture of hope and confusion. "I will give them 1000 Eisentaler!"
An Eisentaler was Nazi Germany's currency, roughly equivalent to 1.88 American dollars. So 1000 Eisentaler was about 1,880 dollars
a significant amount, especially for street children who probably survived on scraps.
"I will give them this money today!" Ravina continued, pulling out a thick envelope and waving it in front of the camera. The children's eyes lit up with desperate hope.
She approached the nearest child a small boy with hollow cheeks and too-large eyes and handed him the envelope. "Here you go, kiddo! Use it wisely!"
The boy clutched the envelope like it contained his entire future. Which, in a sense, it did.
But then another child, slightly older and more aggressive, lunged forward and tried to grab the envelope from the first boy's hands. "Share it! We should all share!"
"I got it first!" the smaller boy shouted back, pulling away.
Ravina's smile widened. This was getting interesting. Conflict made good content.
"Wait, wait, wait, kiddos! Don't fight! You can share!" she said, but her tone carried no real authority or concern. She was clearly enjoying watching them struggle.
But none of them listened. The other children joined in, all grabbing for the envelope, pushing and shoving, desperation overriding any sense of cooperation. The smaller boy was overwhelmed, shoved backward by the larger kids.
He stumbled. His foot caught on the edge of the platform.
And he fell onto the rails below.
At that exact moment, a flying train approached the station, its electromagnetic engines humming with power. It was moving fast too fast to stop, not designed to expect obstacles on tracks that should be clear.
The train hit the boy with tremendous force.
The impact was immediate and catastrophic. The child's small body was launched through the air, spinning violently, limbs flailing in ways that bodies shouldn't move. He flew across the gap between the station and the adjacent park, his trajectory carrying him directly into a large metal garbage bin.
The bin crumpled from the impact with a hollow, reverberating *CLANG* that echoed across the station. The boy's body disappeared inside, hidden from view.
For one suspended moment, everything was silent.
Then the screaming started.
A woman near the platform's edge shrieked, her hands flying to her mouth. The sound was raw and primal, the kind of scream that came from witnessing something that broke the brain's ability to process reality.
"OH GOD!" someone shouted. "THAT CHILD—"
"SOMEONE CALL FOR HELP!"
"HE'S DEAD! HE'S DEAD!"
The station erupted into chaos. People were running in all directions some toward the garbage bin where the boy had landed, others away from the scene entirely, fleeing from the horror. Parents grabbed their own children and pulled them close, covering their eyes, trying to shield them from what they'd just witnessed.
One of the other street children a girl who'd been fighting for the envelope just seconds bee dropped to her knees and vomited, her small body heaving with shock and trauma.
A middle-aged businessman in an expensive suit fumbled with his phone, his hands shaking so badly he could barely hold it. "I'm calling the police someone needs to we need emergency services—"
Several other people were doing the same, pulling out their phones, trying to dial emergency numbers with trembling fingers.
The robots continued their duties, scanning tickets, directing passengers to their platforms, their faces showing no reaction whatsoever to the chaos erupting around them. They moved through the screaming crowds with mechanical precision, as if nothing unusual had happened.
And in the center of all this chaos, Ravina stood perfectly still, the camera still recording.
Then, she laughed.
It started as a quiet chuckle, then built into full, genuine laughter that echoed through the panicking station. "What the fuck was that?" she gasped between laughs, clutching her stomach. "The fuck is this? That kid got thrown directly into the garbage bin! That was insane!"
The laughter was so inappropriate, so shocking, that it cut through even the chaos. People nearby turned to stare at her, their expressions shifting from grief and horror to disbelief and then to rage.
"She's LAUGHING!" a woman screamed, pointing at Ravina with a shaking finger. "That monster is LAUGHING at a child's death!"
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" a man shouted, his face red with fury and tears streaming down his cheeks.
Ravina wiped tears of laughter from her eyes and turned back to the camera, composing herself. "Alright guys, this shit was worth my money, not gonna lie. That was the most entertaining thing I've seen all week!" She gave her signature smile, bright and cheerful as if she'd just shown her audience a cute puppy video rather than a child's death. "Alright guys, see you later! Don't forget to like and subscribe!"
She made a heart gesture with her hands, then signaled for the camera robot to stop recording.
The red light went off, and Ravina immediately dropped the performance, her expression becoming neutral and bored.
Several people with phones were recording her now, capturing her laughter, her callousness, the complete absence of human empathy in her reaction. At least a dozen emergency calls had been placed, voices overlapping as people tried to explain what had happened to dispatchers.
"Yes, there's been an accident at the central station a child was hit by a train—"
"Send ambulances immediately—"
"There's a woman here who caused it, she's laughing about it—"
A security robot taller and more heavily built than the standard station workers began moving through the crowd toward Ravina, its programming finally recognizing that some kind of disturbance required attention.
Ravina noticed the robot approaching and her expression shifted not to fear or concern, but to mild annoyance.
The robot extended one hand toward her, its voice flat and authoritative. "Citizen, you are required to remain in place for questioning regarding this incident. Emergency services have been contacted—"
Ravina's hand shot out faster than the robot could react. She grabbed its extended arm and twisted with tremendous force, the sound of metal tearing and servos breaking filling the air. With one violent yank, she ripped the robot's arm completely off its body.
Sparks flew from the damaged socket. The robot's face designed to look calm and professional flickered with error messages as its systems tried to process the catastrophic damage.
"Annoying," Ravina muttered, then swung the severed arm like a club, smashing it into the robot's head with enough force to cave in the synthetic skull. The robot collapsed, its body twitching with electrical misfires.
The crowd's panic intensified. People were screaming louder now, backing away from Ravina, realizing that she wasn't just callous
she was dangerous.
A man from the crowd middle-aged, wearing a worker's uniform, his face streaked with tears
pushed through the fleeing people and charged at Ravina. "What the fuck did you do to that kid, you bitch?!" he shouted, his voice cracking with emotion and fury. His fist shot out and connected with her face in a solid punch.
Ravina's head snapped to the side from the punch, but she slowly turned back to face him, a wide smile spreading across her face. Blood trickled from her split lip, but she seemed delighted rather than hurt.
"It's not my fault," she said cheerfully, her voice carrying that same bright tone she used for her videos. "It's the greed of humans. They kill themselves. Their fault, not mine. I was just trying to help!"
"You bitch!" The man wound up for another punch, rage overriding any sense of self-preservation.
But Ravina was faster. She dodged the incoming punch with ease, stepping to the side with movements that suggested inhuman reflexes.
"Try later, uncle," she said mockingly.
Then she struck back with her own punch, her fist moving in a blur. The force behind the blow was monstrous, far exceeding what her frame should be capable of. Her fist connected with the man's temple with a sickening crack that was audible even over the chaos.
His head snapped to the side at an unnatural angle, the bone of his skull visibly fracturing under the impact. Blood sprayed from his ears and nose. He dropped to the ground immediately, his body going limp before it hit the pavement.
Dead.
The screaming reached a new pitch. People were running now, stampeding toward the exits, trampling each other in their desperation to get away from this woman who killed with casual ease.
"She killed him!"
"RUN!"
"Someone stop her!"
Three more people had their phones out, recording everything, their hands shaking so badly the footage would be nearly unwatchable. At least twenty emergency calls were active now, dispatchers trying to coordinate a response to what was rapidly becoming a massacre.
Another station security robot approached, this one flanked by two others, all three moving in coordinated patterns designed to contain threats.
Ravina sighed with exaggerated annoyance. "Really? More of you?"
The first robot reached for her. She grabbed its hand, planted her foot against its chest, and pulled with inhuman strength. The robot's arm tore free in a shower of sparks and hydraulic fluid. She immediately used it as a weapon, swinging it in a wide arc that caught the second robot across its torso, denting the metal chassis and sending it stumbling backward.
The third robot tried to activate some kind of restraint protocol, extending cables from its wrists meant to bind and immobilize threats.
Ravina caught the cables mid-air, yanked hard enough to pull the robot off balance, then drove her fist through its chest cavity. Her hand emerged from the other side holding a tangle of wires and circuitry the robot's central processing unit, crushed and sparking.
All three robots collapsed within seconds, their bodies littering the platform like broken toys.
The station was in complete chaos now. The crowds had thinned considerably as people fled, leaving only those too shocked to move and the brave or foolish few still recording on their phones.
Ravina looked around at the destruction she'd caused two corpses, four destroyed robots, dozens of traumatized witnesses and shrugged.
"Well, that was fun," she said to her camera robot, which had dutifully continued hovering nearby throughout the entire incident. "Let's go home."
She walked toward the exit with casual confidence, stepping over the bodies without a second glance. The few remaining people pressed themselves against walls and columns, too terrified to try to stop her, their phones still recording as she passed.
Sirens were approaching in the distance
actual police vehicles, probably armed units given the reports of superhuman violence. But Ravina had already reached the exit by the time they arrived, disappearing into the streets of Berlin with her camera robot trailing behind her.
**That Night**
Ravina sat in her apartment a small, cluttered space filled with camera equipment, editing software, and various props for her videos. She was reviewing the footage from earlier, watching the child's death on repeat, occasionally giggling at particularly dramatic moments.
"Man, today's video was fun!" she said to her camera robot, which hovered nearby in standby mode. "What about we make something like this tomorrow? Maybe find some homeless people and give them alcohol? See what happens?"
The robot nodded with mechanical precision, its head moving up and down without any trace of emotion or comprehension.
Then both of them heard something unusual
the sound of an engine, but not from above. This was coming from ground level, which was rare in a city where most vehicles flew.
"A land car?" Ravina said with confusion and curiosity. Land cars were extremely rare in Nazi Germany, reserved for either very poor people who couldn't afford flight-capable vehicles, or very wealthy people who collected vintage technology as status symbols.
"Let's go check it out!" she said with excitement, already thinking about potential content. "We can make a video!"
She grabbed her camera robot and headed outside, following the sound to a dimly lit alley about two blocks from her apartment. The streetlights here were broken or intentionally disabled, creating pockets of shadow perfect for illegal activities.
In the alley, she saw two men standing beside an old gasoline-powered car an actual vintage vehicle, probably from the 2020s or earlier. They were clearly drug dealers, exchanging a briefcase of cash for a bag of pills or powder. Both men were in their thirties, dressed in expensive clothes that tried too hard to look casual, their movements nervous and alert.
Ravina's eyes lit up with excitement. "We can make a video!" she whispered to her robot. "This is perfect! Catching criminals in the act! This will get so many views!"
But before she could start recording, another figure appeared at the entrance to the alley.
He was young seventeen or eighteen at most with a slight build that made him look even younger. He wore a dark cloak that was too large for his frame, the hood pulled up to shadow his face. His hands were hidden inside the cloak's sleeves.
The boy stepped forward into the dim light, and when he spoke, his voice was surprisingly calm and flat, carrying no fear or aggression. "Give me your money."
Both drug dealers turned to look at him, and for a moment there was silence. Then they both burst into laughter genuine, belly-deep laughter that echoed through the alley.
"Did this kid just try to rob us?" one dealer gasped between laughs, wiping tears from his eyes.
"I think he did!" the other replied, slapping his knee. "Oh man, this is the best entertainment we've had all week!"
The first dealer composed himself slightly, grinning at the boy. "Alright, kid, this is cute and all, but you should run along home before you get hurt. If we don't give you our money, what are you gonna do, little kid?"
The boy didn't respond verbally. Instead, he pulled one hand from beneath his cloak and pointed it at the still-laughing dealer.
Flames erupted from his palm.
Not a small fire, not a lighter's flame, but a torrent of fire that shot across the distance between them like a flamethrower. The flames engulfed the dealer completely, his laughter cutting off instantly as his entire body ignited.
He screamed a horrible, animal sound of pure agony as the fire consumed him in seconds. The smell of burning flesh and hair filled the alley, acrid and nauseating. Within moments, the dealer collapsed, his body a charred, smoking ruin that barely resembled anything human.
The second dealer's amusement vanished instantly. His hand shot to his jacket, pulling out a laser pistol expensive military-grade equipment, illegal for civilians but easy enough to obtain if you had money and connections.
"Thanks for getting rid of my partner, kid!" he shouted, his voice high with panic and adrenaline mixed with bizarre gratitude. "But now you're gonna die too!"
He fired the laser pistol three times in rapid succession, each shot creating a bright red beam that should have burned through the boy's body, should have killed him instantly.
But the boy moved with impossible speed, his body seeming to flicker and blur as he dodged each shot with minimal effort. The lasers struck the alley wall behind him, scorching the concrete but missing their target entirely.
Before the dealer could fire again, the boy raised both hands toward him.
A wave of flame erupted from his palms, expanding outward like a tidal wave of fire. It washed over the dealer, who had time for one brief scream before he was completely consumed. The flames were so intense, so hot, that his body didn't just burn it began to disintegrate, flesh and bone turning to ash and vapor in seconds.
Within moments, all that remained was a blackened silhouette on the ground, the outline of a human body preserved in carbon on the alley floor.
The boy lowered his hands, the flames extinguishing as quickly as they'd appeared. He looked down at the two corpses with an expression of mild annoyance. "Total waste of time," he muttered, his voice carrying disappointment.
He turned to leave the alley, clearly considering the matter finished.
That's when Ravina stepped forward, her camera robot hovering beside her, already recording. Her face was bright with excitement, seeing opportunity where anyone sane would see danger.
"Woah! This is what I call action!" she declared enthusiastically, raising her hand in a friendly gesture. "You could be a star on my YouTube channel! I'm Ravi—"
The boy's eyes snapped to her, cutting off her introduction. His expression didn't change
remained flat, emotionless, utterly cold. But something in his gaze made even Ravina's smile falter for just a moment.
He raised one hand toward her without a word.
Ravina felt heat. Intense, searing heat that made the air around her shimmer and warp. Then pain sudden, overwhelming pain that wiped away every other sensation.
Her skin began to blister instantly, bubbling and blackening as if she'd been thrust into an oven. Her clothes ignited, synthetic fibers melting into her flesh. Her hair caught fire, the flames spreading across her scalp with terrifying speed.
She opened her mouth to scream, but flames rushed in, scorching her throat and lungs. The sound that came out was barely human a wet, gurgling shriek that cut off almost immediately as the fire consumed her from the inside out.
"Not interested, lady," the boy said calmly, his voice carrying no emotion as he watched her burn.
The scene shifted abruptly.
**Somewhere Over the Atlantic Ocean**
Angela yawned, stretching her arms above her head in a gesture that was more habit than necessity. Her synthetic body didn't get tired in the traditional sense, but her biological brain still experienced fatigue.
"When will we reach there?" she asked, her voice carrying irritation and impatience. They'd been traveling for what felt like forever, moving from one crisis to another, never quite reaching their destination.
Eve stood at the railing of Astraea's ship, looking up at the sky. The afternoon was fading into evening, the sun painting the clouds in shades of orange and purple. "So beautiful," she whispered, her voice full of wonder. "This sky is so beautiful. Look at how the colors blend, how the light changes moment by moment."
Carmilla sat nearby, smoking another cigarette, her remaining hand holding it with practiced ease. She'd adapted quickly to having only one hand, though Angela had noticed the occasional frustrated gesture when she forgot and tried to use both.
"Only seven hours," Carmilla said, exhaling smoke slowly. "Then we'll be there. In the Netherlands. In Valenora."
"Seven hours until Valenora."
"Seven hours until the truth of Tree of Hope".