Masquerade : The lost stuffed animal

~ Ten months ago…

Emma got sick out of nowhere - Doctors couldn't figure it out. Luka would just sit there, watching his little sister who used to bounce off the walls... now just staring into space, like she was looking through the walls at something none of us could see.

"Check this out - I'm a pigeon doing the cha-cha!" He did this totally goofy dance. Just machines beeping back at him.

He crashed into the chair, trying not to let her see him cry. "Come on, Em... please..."

Then one day, he was rambling about random stuff, and started talking about the Black eagle character.

"Man, you wouldn't believe it - soaring like 400 meters up there! Could see all those green fields in the Darklands, stretching out forever..."

Something flickered in Emma's eyes - first time in forever. That's when it hit him.

~ Later on...

"TA-DAAA!" He whipped out this weird-looking eagle plush. "Meet the black eagle's partner in crime - MISTER FEATHERRR!"

This thing had this ridiculous red bandana and such a serious face - even the nurses couldn't help snorting when they walked by.

"Rumor has it he snores worse than Dad's old tractor! Some mighty eagle, right?" He was swooping the toy around Emma's head, making whooshing noises.

"Lu... Lu..."

He stopped dead, eagle frozen mid-swoop.

"LUKIII!"

"Em! You're-"

Next thing you know, they're both crying and laughing, squishing poor Mr. Feather between them in this awkward group hug.

✽✽✽

"Ahh...!"

Lukas jerked awake, head spinning from three days under. His heart hammered as dream bits scattered like ashes.

Just a dream... wait, no. Memory.

Harsh lights stabbed his eyes. Hospital smell…Antiseptic. His shaking hands flew to his chest, desperately feeling where bones had poked through. Ice in his veins.

"No... NO! Where's Mr. Feather?!" Emma's precious thing was gone.

"Well well..."

Deep voice cut through the shadows, making him jump. Big shape peeled away from the dark - Major Jürgen. Boot steps echoed on cold floor tiles.

"Hey soldier... Ever heard of Axolotls?"

"M-Major?"

Weird smile crept across Jürgen's face. "Cool little salamander. Tiny thing can grow back limbs, heart... even brain bits."

"I don't... what?" Lukas stammered, staring.

"See, they built us different. Mixed in all sorts of animal DNA—a real cocktail. Even threw in some axolotl... Both of us are a subgenre of our kind—we’re Drakaryen.”

Lukas looked at his chest - pink new skin crawling over the mess that Panzer Koloss left. "That's how-"

Major cut him off. "Three days flat. Right on schedule. Now up." Sharp command.

"Uniform on. Teeth clenched. Stand tall… Pain doesn't matter."

Lukas fumbled to obey while Jürgen watched, extra intense.

"Listen up. I'm Major, 5th Wiking Division. Gotta stick my neck out for you with the brass. Regiment's reputation on the line.

Voice went softer. "So... you know... come find me if you're stuck."

• • •

Suddenly, The ground exploded beneath his feet.

The walls were gone, shredded to dust.

And there it was - this massive pit of hell stretching up into darkness. Above, Rows of pale faces stared down at him, their whispers like wasps in his skull.

Down there, high rank officers stood in a ring around him - these... things in masks. Wolf heads. Lion faces. Bulls. Goats. Black silk rippling over fur coats, torchlight dancing off polished bone. Each one a legend. Each one as deadly as Jurgen himself - maybe worse.

Then the music started. The Führer's death song.

A wolf's cry split the night. Ancient drums pounded through stone as a shadow glided toward an empty throne. Beside it padded something out of a nightmare - a WARG. Nazi science gone wrong.

The Wolf was massive. Three meters of muscle and terror, steroids pumping through mutant veins. Gray fur that moved like smoke. Fangs dripping...

Lukas felt his heart stop. Because where there was a Warg - Renegade emblem...

There he was. Marshal Evan Bloodwolf, the Warg slayer. Skin like fresh snow. Hair like spilled ink. And those eyes... red cybernetic implants burning in that perfect, cruel face.

He sprawled across his titanium throne like a bored cat, those blood-red eyes staring through everything and nothing. Just another day in hell for him, really.

Lukas looked up. His heart clenched at the ceremony he'd feared for so long. The V-Gericht loomed around him - a steel cage of judgment, the Empire's dreaded martial court.

"Step forward, Black Eagle." Behind his lion mask, the General's voice rolled like thunder. Each word struck like a hammer: "We gather to discuss the Adler case... High Treason."

Lukas's knees hit the floor with a thud. Fresh blood seeped through his uniform, old wounds weeping scarlet. The crowd's hatred crashed over him in waves.

"SILENCE!" The walls shook with the General's roar. "The precepts of V-Gericht!"

They rose together, voices twisting into that terrible chant:

"Volksgerichtshof!

V for Volk (people) - justice belongs to Aryan people !

V for Vergeltung (vengeance) - retributions will be brutals !

V for Verrat (treason) - the Renegade must be punished !"

The General's arm shot up in a Nazi salute toward Marshal Evan. "Bring forth Corporal Fritz Weber and Gefreiter Muller Jacques of the Black Eagle."

God, those faces. Lukas felt ice in his veins. "Fritz... Muller... both of you survived the Koloss..."

Fritz's voice cut sharp: "Generaloberst, in Norway... Svalbard is now a Darkland!."

The nobles shifted uneasily. Even through their masks, the warriors' disgust was plain.

Fritz kept count on his fingers. "Three things happened."

"First of all... Frank the Fox got turned into a warg - went Renegade..."

Everyone in the assembly lost it.

"Secondly... He's got a Panzer Koloss under his control !"

The stands erupted into total mayhem, with some noble yelling about how Svalbard couldn't be touched now. "Two deterrents!" an old noble's voice cut through the noise.

The General's voice boomed: "ORDER IN THE COURT!"

Fritz jabbed a finger at Lukas. " And last but not least... This man, our Sergeant Adler - had Frank the Fox in his sights and wouldn't pull the trigger. Me and my Gefreiter told him to take the shot. He wouldn't listen. Just wouldn't. Worst defeat we've had in generations, if you ask me." He paused, then twisted the knife: "And then the Fox says - get this - 'I knew I could trust you.' Tell me, Generaloberst, if that's not working with the enemy, what is?"

Dead silence hit like a ton of bricks.

"Oh, but wait - there's more," the Corporal spat out. "With a Panzer Koloss breathing down our necks, what does our great Sergeant do? Runs off chasing some stuffed animal. A toy! While his Wikings could've died!"

The quiet afterward... you could hear a pin drop. Lukas stayed there on his knees, feeling every eye burning into him. His Corporal's betrayal cut deeper than any wound could. The Eagles were supposed to be loyal to the death - this backstabbing would echo for years to come.

"Sergeant Adler..." The General's voice rings like a death knell. "What do you have to say in your defense?"

"I... I..." The words died in Lukas's throat.

Yes... Major Jürgen... I need to turn to him…

But before he could move, heavy footsteps shake the ground. A massive shadow steps into the arena's center…

"OBJECTION, honorable Generaloberst!"

The voice booms like thunder through the arena. The torchlight flickers.

"Jürgen Wodan..." The lion-masked General lets out a dry laugh. "The Aurochs of Doom finally decides to play his role as V-diger (*defender)... To save your regiment's honor, no doubt?"

The masked warriors part before Jürgen's towering figure. Torches crackle in the icy silence, casting dancing shadows on the walls.

"According to Aryan doctrine—" Jürgen's voice swells with pride, "—the word of an Arkaryan outweighs all other simple Aryans !"

His eyes gleam behind his bull mask. "This Black Eagle here, Lukas Adler, is an elite warrior! Through his veins flows our ancient wisdom, that of untameable beasts... A pure-blooded Arkaryan!"

Whispers ripple through the assembly like a wave.

"These soldiers who accuse him..." Jürgen waves dismissively. "Mere Aryans words without proof cannot compete with the testimony of a true Arkaryan!"

Nods appear among the high-ranking officers.

"Our faithful soldier here, who since sixteen has mercilessly slaughtered the enemies of our civilization... deserves our support against the jealousy of mere sub-officers... sub-race."

An icy wind sweeps the arena. The truth in Jürgen's words left no one unmoved, not even the Crown Prince, who raised an eyebrow slightly, showing unexpected interest in the situation - he who was usually so indifferent.

This speech…

Lukas feels brief relief soothing the sting of betrayal.

Yet in that assembly, three felt the sting. Those two witnesses - humiliated in front of everyone. And then...

"Jealousy? Hah. Same old tune."

Behind his Boar mask, Captain Dieter smiled. Silent. Watchful.

"My turn now."

He strutted forward like a peacock, cutting across Major Jürgen's path. The Major just watched, surprise barely flickering across his face.

"Oh most honorable assembly..." Dieter's mocking bow was pure theater. "Most esteemed Generaloberst... and Lord Evan Woolfblood, of course." His fake nobility accent dripped with sarcasm.

"I'm Captain Dieter Kobold - the Exalted, if you please. Boar unit." That twisted smile never left his face. "Got something to add here."

"Since regular Aryans don't cut it anymore..." He paused for effect. "Let me - a true-blooded Arkaryan - show you what I've got on Sergeant Lukas Adler."

"Dieter..." Lukas spat the name like poison.

"Look here - proof your Black Eagle's gone Renegade!"

Everything stops. Dieter's holding something. Lukas's heart stops beating.

No. God no.

EMMA'S STUFFED TOY.

Lukas can't breathe. That precious thing - lost in the chaos of battle - now dangling from Dieter's filthy hands like a trophy. The court leans forward, hungry for blood.

Emma...