The Worst of All Possible Timelines

And so far it has been interesting.

The massive commuter craft glided through the air, having left from Frankfurt only a few minutes before. It stopped in Erfurt and Dresden, and was now in Brandenburg.

In the distance, they could see the skyscrapers, and through them, the Volkshalle. There it was: Welthauptstadt Germania, the capital of Germany, of Europe, and of the world. Luftwaffe patrol craft made their patrol, and the Swastika banners fluttered in the wind.

They weren't at the terminal yet. There'd still be a couple minutes of flight time. The hundreds of workers on the plane were either dozed off or buried their faces into their phones and tablets.

Very few of them noticed the masked men entering the cockpit until the course started going off what was normal.

"What is going on?" asked Heinrich, at his window seat, seeing the scenery descend.

They were going up. They weren't supposed to go up.

"I don't know!" asked one of his fellow passengers. The workmen became unnerved. They began getting up, wondering what was going on.

The craft plateaued its movement, and began blitzing towards one of the big skyscrapers that surrounded the central Avenue of Splendors and its environs.

It was a very special skyscraper, designed to be taller than any other in the city, and had a gigantic eagle grasping a swastika atop it.

On its side read "REICH MINISTRY OF WAR."

"Break into the cockpit! I saw some masked men shut the doors!"

The workmen grabbed whatever they could and began beating the door down. They eventually succeeded by breaking down the door with a fire ax.

The masked men fired off some shots, but were overwhelmed by the sheer volume of workmen. As the mob began to dismember the hijackers, one of them yelled "Pro Česko!" before he passed.

The craft was still dashing towards the War Ministry. One of them tried to change the course of the ship; the steering wheel was still working.

However, the speed had been locked on with a virus. They couldn't slow it down.

"What are we going to do?" asked one of the workmen. They began to panic.

"I know the city!" yelled out Heinrich. "We may die, but we can at least crash this thing where there are unlikely to be many Aryan casualties. We're not far from one of the Untermenschen guest worker villages. We may die, but many Aryan lives would be saved!"

And with that inspirational speech, thousands of Hungarians, Slavs, and Romanians died in a fiery plume.



"Approximately three hundred Aryans and five thousand untermenschen were killed today when a hijacking attempt on a commuter craft from Frankfurt en route to Welthauptstadt Germania was thwarted by its passengers. Recovered black boxes from the craft show that the speed was locked with some sort of computer virus, so that it could not be stopped. It could, however, be steered, as no such program was inserted to hack that portion of the ship's navigation. The loyal workmen onboard heroically sacrificed their lives and rammed into one of the Wohnbezirken for untermenschen to save Aryan lives. Kripo officers on the scene found identification documents from the Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia on the bodies of the hijackers."

Anielewicz, Turteltaub, and Matja watched the television in horror as the spectacle went on. The Berlin Kripo chief remarked to the camera, now on scene, and said that "it is better to lose a thousand untermenschen than a single Aryan," and laughed it off.

He laughed it off.

"Idiots," spat Anielewicz. "They should have known not to have identification on them. Now they Nazis will raze whichever Czech city they came from."

He turned to Matja. "I trust you know why that is so important. You do one thing, and millions will be killed because of your own stupidity."

Matja realized he was desensitized to that statement.

Yes. That is how drunk they are on their own sense of superiority.

No, there are a few independent countries left in Europe, but they are all Nazi vassals. Not technically part of the Reich but they might as well be. 

Prora, Nazi Party resort on the island of Rugen, Baltic Sea

The honor guard stood at attention, rifles pointed in the air. The square standard of the Fuhrer decked the walkway into the building of honor.

Lothar Schonau, Chief of the Chancellery of the Nazi Party, stood at the ready to greet the man all Germany owed their lives to.

For if they didn't obey, their lives would end very, very quickly.

It had been Schonau's duty to inform the Wehrmacht about their task the week before: the utter encircling and razing of Iglau and Brux and Olmutz, all in the Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia, in retaliation for the attack on Welthauptstadt Germania. Did Schonau feel any guilt for the thousands dead, for the the men whose limbs and heads would be brought back to German cities to be turned into taxidermied trophies? Did he feel any guilt for the lucky women who were merely brutalized and then killed, or for the unlucky women who were brought back to Germany to be the concubines of a thousand bloodthirsty soldiers? Did he feel any guilt for the children who were crushed by the tanks that were sent to these cities, or put to the flame as their cities were burned?

If he did, he did not show it. Showing such guilt was what got his predecessor bayoneted in front of a Frankfurt crowd, who cheered on the punishment of his treason.

So Schonau kept a steel face.

The Fuhrer came down from his ship, the Herrenvolk, and was escorted by his guards. A military band played the Horst Wessel Lied and the Deutschlandlied and Der Koniggratzer, which the Fuhrer simply ignored. Hitler was kept alive via Bat-provided implements, which kept him in this world for over a hundred years.

"Herr Schonau," he said coldly, his mechanical eyes staring into his secretary's soul.

"Mein Fuhrer," responded Schonau, "Your ministers are assembled. The meeting is prepared to begin."

"Come, Herr Schonau. You are an important person in my Reich. You ought to hear this."

Schonau nearly nodded.

They entered the building and then the meeting room. Hitler's ministers were all assembled, bickering among themselves.

"Heil mein Fuhrer!" they all said as they rose to attention, giving their stiff-armed salute.

"Sit down," said the Fuhrer laconically. They did so.

"Herr Radnitzer, the situation with the Americans. Go."

Lennart Radnitzer, Foreign Minister, responded as told. "Mein Fuhrer, we have been paying attention to all intercepted transmissions between Washington, Tokyo, and their embassies in each other's capitals and in Berlin. With the recent stunt with the fighter planes flying over Chukotka and now Hawaii, Tokyo is getting very nervous that the Americans are trying to start something. It also seems that the Americans have reverse-engineered enough leftover weaponry from their pacification that they may be able to stand up to the Japanese. Not attack the home islands or anything, but possibly take Hawaii and maybe the Philippines."

Hitler glared at his foreign minister. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE AMERICANS COULD DO ANYTHING! THEY ARE MONGRELIZED FILTH, THE REMNANTS OF MISCHLING SETTLERS RULED BY JEWISH PUPPET MASTERS!"

The Fuhrer raved. Schonau quietly sighed. This wasn't uncommon.

After about fifteen minutes of incoherent screaming, the Fuhrer calmed down. Schonau looked on his computer, receiving various updates. One struck him as warranting the Fuhrer's attention.

"Mein Fuhrer, not to detract from the importance of the situation between Washington and Tokyo, but I have received news from Reichsgau Schleswig-Holstein that may of be of interest to you."

"Go on with it!" barked the Fuhrer.

"There has been a small protest in Neumunster. Some twenty people gathered in a public area with signs denouncing the pacification of Bohemia." Schonau tensed. This was news that the Fuhrer would not like to hear.

Those who gave the Fuhrer news he did not want to hear generally did not live for very long afterwards.

Hitler glared at Schonau. "Nuke that pathetic waste of living space! Destroy it! Raze it! Show to the world we will not allow such Jewish mongrel treason to exist within our borders!"

The Minister of the Interior, Gunther Haushofer, rose to speak. "With all due respect, Mein Fuhrer, do you really want to destroy an Aryan city? We have never once done so!"

Schonau tensed. Woe onto he who challenged the Fuhrer.

"Nonsense! Nonsense!" screamed Hitler. "Raze that city! See it turned to ash! Give the order now!"

Minister of War Bernhard Preissner did so without question. Within minutes, the city of Neomunster ceased to exist.

"Good. With that out of the way, I would like to present you the reason I called this meeting," said Hitler coldly. After such an outburst, him being so cold was terrifying. Schonau was visibly tensed. Haushofer could tell, and gave Schonau a glare.

"We are now dominated by puppet masters, but not Jewish ones. They are alien ones. The Flughunden," he spat. "They provide us with the weapons with which we rule this world in exchange for tribute. But the Master Race should not be beholden to them."

There was silence.

"You mean to say that you want to go to war with the Flughunden?" asked Haushofer.

"We have enough technology and enough knowledge of how to operate it that we could defeat them in a fair fight," responded Hitler.

"Impossible!" panicked Haushofer. "You don't have any idea what they are capable of! This is suicide!"

"The master race, as we are by our nature, should not be beholden to some flying pestilence! We can do it! We, as the master race, can do it!"

He began ranting again. The Ministers' faces were clearly very disturbed.

This plan could destroy the Reich.

What seemed like hours passed, and the ministers could do nothing but listen to their leader go on and on about nonsense that could not be done. Eventually, he screamed "Get out! Get out, you worthless rats! Get out!"

All the ministers then left.

Schonau began to return to his office in Prora, until he was called to.

"Herr Schonau!" a voice beckoned to him, "I hope you are not recording anything. Please, meet me outside."

It was Haushofer. He pointed to the doorway, and so he followed the Minister of the Interior.

They wandered a bit to find a small patch of grass with no visible recording devices, and nothing that would give away what would be discussed.

"What is it that you want from me?" asked Schonau.

"I can't imagine you are pleased with his ramblings. You have to put up with him more than the rest of us do, by far!"

"And?"

"Look. The Fuhrer is going mad. He's been on this earth more than a century, kept alive only by that which the Flughunden have given him."

Schonau still said very little. "What do you propose, then?"

"You see the insanity up close and personal. I can tell just by the look on your face that you can't stand the man. That is why I am inviting you to my little coterie."

"Your little group of what?"

"Of good men who love the Reich and the Volk and see that this senile wreck of a man needs to be removed."

  Nerve or sheer desperation.  He's starting on a course that could well destroy all of humanity, including their precious greater Germany.

  I wonder how well Hitler is protected from assassination by the bats and how many plots such as this have been crushed already.  Suspect its a very large number given how many attempts were made OTL.  Have a feeling, not just from the thread title, that this one will fail as well.