Masquerade : The Fox and the Eagle

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Snowflakes swirled everywhere. Frank stepped forward through knee-deep snow, each footprint telling its own story. The wind howled like a wounded beast, drowning out everything except his heartbeat. Closer and closer to Lukas - his friend, his brother-in-arms…

"Frank..." Lukas's voice cracked. "What the hell are you?" His breath came out in little white puffs that got snatched away by the wind.

Frank just stared back. Those eyes weren't human anymore. "Not what you think I am, Lukas. Never was." Each word dropped like ice. "Everything you stand for? I'm here to tear it down."

The Wikings lost their mind. Metal creaked and weapons clicked as the soldiers shuffled around, whispering to each other like scared kids. Their exoskeletons looked pathetic in the storm.

"RENEGADE! THE FOX IS A DAMN RENEGADE!" The corporal's shout made them all jump.

"SHOOT HIM! SERGEANT, TAKE THE SHOT!" Pure terror in the Gefreiter's voice. They all knew why—only the Sergeant stood a chance against an Aryan super like Frank Jenkins.

This isn't happening. Lukas's mind rejected it all. His pulse pounded as he grasped at straws. Just another trick. Has to be. Classic Frank move.

"I get it now..." A tiny smile played on his lips. "You crafty bastard fox..."

BOOM
Ground shaking.

BOOM
Sky going dark.

BOOM
Something massive rose up behind Frank, blotting out the horizon. The earth trembled with each step.

For the first time ever, Lukas felt real fear—deep, animal fear. He stumbled back as he saw what loomed there.

"Holy shit... a Panzer Koloss..."

Panic ripped through the air.

There it loomed—this thing, this nightmare fusion of beast and machine, towering 60 meters high. Black metal skin split with molten cracks, drinking in daylight like some demon void. Its head was death shaped into a giant bull's skull, twisted horns reaching for the sky, and those eyes... god, those eyes... like bleeding circuits staring straight through your soul.

Metal tendons flexed and pistons pumped. Steam leaked from its spine like dark ghosts. The humanoid mecha moved with this horrible grace, each thundering step precise yet savage. You could feel the heat rolling off it in waves, choking clouds of poison breath.

Something lived in that machine. Not just programming AI—something older, rawer. Like they'd caught an ancient creature and poured it into circuits and steel. Its creators had tried to cage it with logic and code, but you could see it in every movement—this thing had beast rage. This thing had learned to hate.

They started running. First a few, then more—5, 10 and 15 Wikings scattering like leaves in a storm, their exo-suits failing them when they needed them most. Tripping, stumbling, desperate.

VROOOOOM!
The air exploded. 4,500 rounds ripped through the battlefield, the Panzer Koloss erasing 30 runners from existence. Pure white snow turned into a twisted red masterpiece.

22 vets stood frozen. That's when it hit Lukas like a freight train - all those pieces clicking together in his head.

Of course it was Frank. The damn fox, they called him. He is the only one who can hack Reich AI in Northern Europe.

"Finally getting it, huh?" Frank's voice carried something heavy, something broken. "These hands? They work for freedom."

His head dropped, face vanishing in shadows. Didn't look up when he spoke again. "Nothing personal, friend... Remember what we talked about? That Black Eagle's just chains around free people's necks. Today?" A hollow laugh. "Not only am I gonna break a perfect human weapon - that's you - but I'm gonna drag that precious symbol through the mud. The one your Empire's been waving around for generations."

Frank pulled out a smoke, lit it up like he had all the time in the world. The cherry glowed like a dying star in the winter dark.

"Saw you with your sister Emma at the parade. I knew right then you'd screw up." He took a long drag. "Reich's gonna lose their hero today. The free folk just get stronger."

Emma... Frank... Laughter and smiles hit Lukas like old photographs, fading and burning at the edges.

"Don't hurt yourself thinking about it, brother." Smoke curled from his lips. "You're not ready. Your soul belongs to those bastards - Black Eagle through and through!"

"How?" Lukas's voice cracked. "You were the most dedicated Wiking I knew. Killed countless Insurgents with your bare hands... brutally..."

Frank blew out another cloud, face going empty. Dead empty.

"Which Insurgents?" His lip curled. "The raiders? The anarchist?" A short, ugly laugh. "I serve freedom, not some common thugs. You did me a solid, blowing the Olsens' heads off." Hate and disgust twisted his features into something inhuman.

Frank jabbed a finger at the insurgents corpses. "Know why they call 'em 'Iron Skulls'? Steel minds, ready to die for the cause. Just like those Japanese Shinpu. So yeah - no regrets here."

He kept smoking, letting silence do the heavy lifting. The Wikings shifted nervously, eyes darting between him and that monster Panzer Koloss looming behind.

"Right here on Svalbard..." Frank let it hang, "we just made ourselves a Darkland." Voice going all prophecy-like. "A black spot where regime light don't shine... Power balance just got flipped... paid for in blood."

Frank pulled the cigarette from his mouth. Slow. Deliberate. Pointed it at Lukas like a judge's finger.

"And you're the sacrificial lamb."

"None of this makes sense, Frank. You know what happens to Renegades."

A confident smirk crossed Frank's face.

"That's exactly why I'm telling you - freedom's got to be born in pain." His eyes went hard. "So you're gonna suffer."

"Revolution needs hatred to grow." The smirk turned savage. "So you're gonna want revenge!"

It happened like lightning. Lukas moved like a viper, catching Frank's lazy stance. Fluid as water, deadly as a blade. That sweep kick, powered by his exo-suit, took Frank's legs clean out.

THUD!
Frank hit dirt, and before snow could settle, Lukas's boot was crushing his chest.

CLICK.
Gun barrel, ice-cold on Frank's temple.

"This close, even you ain't dodging..." Lukas spoke razor-sharp. "Tell your boys to shut down the Panzer Koloss. Now."

A serene smile crossed Frank's face, gentle and knowing. "Told you already, didn't I, friend? Today might be my last day... your choice." His eyes drifted shut like falling leaves. Just a whisper now: "The pendant... remember your promise. Bury me with it."

Wind screamed past them both. Memories hit Lukas like shrapnel - Frank's arms around him, that crooked grin. Uncle Frank! Uncle Frank! He could still hear little Emma's voice, clear as bells. See her tiny form curled up against Frank's chest.

BOOM.
The Panzer Koloss shifted its massive bulk forward.

"Sergeant, take the shot!" The Gefreiter's voice cracked with desperate conviction. "He wants this - Better to drag one of these Renegade down with us, eh? it’s like victory for the Reich!"

Lukas felt his grip loosen just slightly. The weapon dipped - barely a hair's width. His eyes were lost in the void.

Frank rose like he was dancing with death, that damn smile still there, realer than ever. "I knew I could trust you."

In a flash, a grenade materialized in Frank’s hand. Light erupted, drowning the world in blinding white. Ears ringing, breath short, he saw Frank. Unshaken, the man calmly pulled a small stuffed animal from his jacket's inner pocket.

Emma's toy.

Lukas's heart skipped. Muscles coiled like steel cables under his skin.

Frank held the plush up high.

Face blank as frozen glass, he tossed it skyward. The toy hung there, weightless as straw in the wind. Lukas's eyes went wide - hand reaching, desperate, blind to everything else.

"Here's a Wiking wisdom for you, friend—getting attached only leaves scars." The toy hung suspended in the air as Frank released it, and Lukas's hand shot out, desperate, reaching.

"VZZZZZZZZT"
The Panzer Koloss's maw split open. Black photon beam struck without warning.

Lukas lunged forward, fingers snagging the toy at the last second. The blast caught him mid-air, hurling him into the void.

His shattered body hung there. Flesh and skin melted from his chest, leaving only titanium bone beneath.

He tumbled down the slope, snow slowly staining red around him.

Soldiers' shouts reached him through thick fog. Blurred shapes moved through the frozen glare of the battlefield.

Last thing he saw: black boots, walking slow towards him.

With his last strength, Lukas's trembling fingers found the toy pressed against his chest—next his heart, fragile as a wounded bird against his uniform.

Darkness crept in like a blanket.

Then nothing...

Winter's silence was absolute.