<span style="font-size: 110%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="font-weight: bold">5th July, 06:00<br/>Munich, Germany</span></span><br/><br/><br/>Zanzibar sat calmly behind the desk with his fingers, the color of pale sand, laced on the smooth mahogany surface in front of him. He took a deep, slow breath, smiling slightly as he felt the presence drawing closer. Yes, it made sense that the demon would stop at the outpost- rumor had it that Hitler himself had made a temporary stop in Munich, and would be departing shortly for Mittenwald. Of course, rumors were often misleading; sheep were sheep, and thus they would follow the one directly in front of them even if it meant walking off of a cliff into the open air, with nothing but the ground far below to cushion the fall.<br/><br/>The office was exquisitely furnished, with a fully stocked bar to his right, a bookcase that looked as pristine as a museum piece on the opposite end, and a bearskin rug sprawling the length of the floor. A gleaming silver case of cigars sat to the left of his hands on the desktop; he casually flicked it open and fished one of the beauties out, running his fingers over the leaf as he expertly applied the cutter with his other hand, carelessly brushing the fallen tobacco bits onto the floor. He ran the cigar beneath his nostrils and inhaled, savoring the smell, wondering how good it would taste if he were to take a puff. And instantly, as if the thought alone was enough to turn fantasy to reality (which it was, for him), the tip was ignited. He took a drag, feeling the dense smoke roll over his tongue, just as the heavy steel door across from him opened.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">"Asm… as much a surprise as it is a pleasure, to finally meet you in person. Erlind Köhler, I presume? Or is 'Oberstleutnant' preferable to you?"</span><br/><br/><div><hr style="height:2px; width:100%; border:0; color: black;background:black;"/></div><br/><br/>He took a deep swig of gin and sat the glass aside on a platter as he hurried towards the Fuhrer's office, two of his officers following behind, picking up the same pace as they made their way down the hall of a quadrilocular building. They have been trying to speak, to communicate some information to him but the demonic creature was too busy muttering to itself to pay attention to the pair of officers. It felt irritating to be back in Munich, let along having to spend the next three days in Mittenwald. How parting was such sweet sorrow, but nothing he could not amend in his great absence.<br/><br/>Oberstlieutenant Erlind Kohler, part of the<span style="font-style: italic">General der Luftwaffe</span>of the<span style="font-style: italic">Oberbefehlshaber des Heeres</span>and recently transferred to the commander of the<span style="font-style: italic">Luftwaffe of Army Group B</span>, felt the tension of power and curled up energies in the atmosphere as he advanced towards the steel door. His sixth sense warned him that it was not the body of the Fuhrer that he was going to find behind the closed door. There was somebody else in there. As he took a pause, gloved fingers on the doorknob, Kohler glanced at one of his officers and hissed tonelessly.<span style="font-style: italic">"And why was I not informed about the arrival of our guest?"</span><br/><br/>The two officers looked at one another and in unison they answered, eyes widening.<span style="font-style: italic">"Oberstlieutenant,"</span>they glanced at one another again, the taller of the two continued alone.<span style="font-style: italic">"You have just arrived to the outpost. We were trying to speak to you but..." </span><br/><br/>Kohler shook his head and pushed the steel door two inches open. He eyed both his officers and answered with a calmer tone.<span style="font-style: italic">"How about you two cut down on unnecessary, long explanations, and do yourselves a favor. Get the rides ready, we must leave soon. Our Fuhrer shall be here in a few."</span>Despite the all encompassing need to break their necks, he brushed his fingers lightly over the buttons of his field grey wool Heer tunic and nodded his head in response to the officers' straightening bodies and hand salute.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-style: italic">"Asm… as much a surprise as it is a pleasure, to finally meet you in person. Erlind Köhler, I presume? Or is 'Oberstleutnant' preferable to you?"</span></span><br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"A surprise?"</span>When Kohler stepped into the office and closed the steel door quite harshly behind him, a cold smile touched his face as he turned around to look at the 'guest'.<span style="font-style: italic">"Surprise is the greatest gift which life can grant us, my friend."</span>Booted feet carried his form closer to the desk. An atrociously wicked grin flagged his very pale Nordic features as he surveyed the other with a cerulean gaze.<span style="font-style: italic">"The pleasure is all mine. You may call me Erlind Kohler. A close friend to the Fuhrer, is also a friend of mine. No need for formalities. I was previously informed by the Fuhrer that you will honor us with your presence in Mittenwald. Our rides shall be ready to depart shortly."</span>The blonde one raised a light golden brow and extended his right hand for a shake.<br/><br/><div><hr style="height:2px; width:100%; border:0; color: black;background:black;"/></div><br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"Surprise is the greatest gift which life can grant us, my friend."</span><br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-style: italic">Remarkable. The demon has a penchant for inadvertent irony, it seems,</span></span>he thought dryly as his mind drifted to the signet ring hidden beneath his charcoal-black suit (he had elected to forgo his cloak, if only for the time being). If Asmodai only knew… yes, that would be quite the surprise indeed. Whether or not he'd consider it a gift, well, that was purely a matter of perspective. The identical ring currently adorning one of the Führer's fingers was nothing more than a worthless illusion- Hitler knew nothing of course, pawn that he was. As worthless as the ring, even.<br/><br/>As the man introduced himself, in a friendly manner that was belied by the cold, sinister smile adorning his face, smoke trailed from the corners of Zanzibar's mouth as he mirrored the newcomer's grin.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"A close friend to the Führer, is also a friend of mine."</span><br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic"><span style="font-weight: bold">Friend? No, the sight of the imp alone is enough to churn my stomach. But he is no friend to you either, is he, Asmodai? Given the chance you would gladly watch him choke on his own blood- but I shall forgive you your reprehensible fantasies. Perhaps I would even go so far as to oblige you. I am a merciful God, after all.</span></span><br/><br/>Zanzibar took another drag on the cigar as Köhler spoke of Mittenwald, and of the transportation that would get them there. He accepted the hand that was extended to him, still seated, and after three firm shakes he offered the cigar case to the demon, his smile widening by a fraction as he studied the creature's visage.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">"Yes, Mittenwald… of course, but why the rush? Why not relax,"</span>he went on as he indicated the armchair situated directly behind where the blond haired man stood,<span style="font-weight: bold">"and have a smoke first? Those with importance can never be late, for the rest are unable to do more than wait." </span><br/><br/><div><hr style="height:2px; width:100%; border:0; color: black;background:black;"/></div><br/><br/>The demon was not offended by the impolite behavior of his guest. Unless he had missing legs, there was no reason for the guest not to stand up when he shook his hand. Ah, the thirst-quenching pleasure of pure arrogance, Asmodeus thought as he continued locking eyes on the man. The embrace and overindulge from the fruits of success must have left no humility left in his guest. If anyone knew that feeling, it would be the blonde one for he's been there, overwhelmed many times in self-indulging traps but nothing he could not survive.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"Thank you. I should be the one offering you a cancerous stick, but I'll take yours gladly, friend."</span>The blonde one laughed as he took a seat in the chair. He accepted a cigar from the man but had used his own butane lighter to light it. To make it somewhere in society today and in this piteous earthly life, these humans had to be somewhat classy, flashy and looking fabulous. But this man, Asmodeus silently thought, was of the rare kind. Out of a crowd of one million individual, he would have spotted him immediately. There was something sinister and dark about him. Something imposing. Something not even Lucifer looked good in. This man would have made the Morning Star himself - Lucifer - feel as though he was but a damoiseau in the realm of the Gods.<span style="font-style: italic">"Forgive me, but I have forgotten your name."</span>Kohler asked the man and smiled. He held the Corona cigar up to his mouth and drew in the smoke, staring at the man under a curious brows.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">"Call me Barizan. Of my rank, you know full well. Poor Berger has been all over the papers- I… pray they find him quickly."</span><br/><br/>He took another pull from the cigar and allowed the smoke to drift lazily from his open mouth, enveloping him slightly as he stared with his vividly black eyes.<span style="font-weight: bold">"In the meantime I hope to bring honor to his post. For the glory of the Fuhrer, of course."</span><br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"Indeed. Indeed. Quite the sad tale. He was in Poland just last week. I've spoken to him before his disappearance and then all of a sudden, he was gone."</span>Kohler shook his head and broke eye contact as he lowered his eyes to the Corona stick he held between his fingers after a second draw. He sat back into the chair comfortably, savoring the smoke in his mouth but not inhaling it.<span style="font-style: italic">"Barizan. Tonight not only we're going to celebrate our victory over the French, but we shall also celebrate a man like you who had all the necessary tools to come in these dark moments and help find replacement for our Berger. Do you know that he was one of the principal masterminds behind the eventual creation of the Waffen SS?"</span>Kohler tilted his head to the side, and eyed the other's facial expressions for any sign of ignorance. How can one, who he never heard of, suddenly become the chosen replacement for one of the highest in commands in Waffen SS? This IS exactly what made Asmodeus way too suspicious. He never failed to pierce through a mortal's mind and learn their secrets. The more he attempted to lurk into this Barizan's mind, the stronger the other man's mental strength got, protecting his thoughts from any type of intrusion.<br/><br/>Barizan rose from his seat and moved smoothly over to the bar, where he quickly poured a dark brown liquid into two clear glasses, just under halfway up, all with the cigar protruding from within his lips. He returned and handed one of the glasses over, appearing to be perfectly at his ease as he removed the cigar from his mouth and sat back down behind the desk. He took a sip of the liquid in the glass, appearing to savor the flavor, before setting it down in front of him.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">"You speak highly of me, comrade, yet if I didn't know better I would say that you're quizzing me,"</span>he said without any movement in his face. It could have been carved from stone for all that he displayed upon it.<span style="font-weight: bold">"Although I did not share in your good fortune in meeting with Berger before his disappearance, I am well aware of the role he played in the Waffen SS' formation. It is my business to know things, you see. About <span style="font-style: italic">everyone</span> I may be affiliated with, for you never know the value of a connection until it has been forged."</span><br/><br/>When he mentioned<span style="font-style: italic"> everyone</span>, Kohler turned his head to notice the man locking hard eyes on him. It made the demon simply smile and look the other way as he continued smoking his cigar, listening to what this masquerading stranger had to say. He seemed to know just<span style="font-style: italic">everything</span>. He gave him that. This man though, was no ordinary man. The thought almost made the air around him chill for a moment.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"I certainly agree with you Herr Barizan"</span>said Kohler, accepting gladly the glass of liquor that was handed to him. He spied on the man with a discreet gaze as he followed him around the desk with his full attention. When Barizan took a seat, Kohler lowered his gaze and smirked.<span style="font-style: italic">"Ignorance is a punishment of God, but knowledge is power my friend and information is liberating. There is no excuse for any Third Reich personnel or supporter to be an ignorant. We are power. We will dominate the world one day."</span>Kohler raised his glass, grinned and took a long slow sip.<br/><br/>Barizan raised his glass as well, sipping from it simultaneously with him.<span style="font-weight: bold">"Indeed. Ignorance has no place in our midst. It leads to weakness and to the fall, and that which falls has been proven weak, and thus cannot rise again." </span><br/><br/>He took another pull from his cigar, blowing the smoke out and up, into the air over his head.<span style="font-weight: bold">"You are right, Kohler. The world will bow to <span style="font-style: italic">us</span>, one day."</span>He smiled, before taking another, much longer sip from his glass.<br/><br/>The way this Barizan said 'us', it made it sound to Asmodeus as if it was intended to be personal. A little bit ... too personal. He cocked his head to the side, finding himself momentarily falling in admiration of the man. Enigmatic as he was. He took a pull from his cigar and passed the palm of his left hand through the locks of golden hair that were naturally slicked back on his head. Asmodeus found his mortal illusion flinch slightly. His material form was weakening. He inhabited it for way too long.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"We must depart shortly, <span style="font-weight: bold">Obergruppenführer</span>."</span>Kohler emptied his liquor after he said firmly. He stood up from his seat and looked at the new Chief of Staff for the Waffen-SS, Barizan.<span style="font-style: italic">"You will greatly honor me if you ride this trip to Mittenwald alongside me."</span><br/><br/><div><hr style="height:2px; width:100%; border:0; color: black;background:black;"/></div><br/><br/>Zanzibar downed the remainder of his own drink and stood as well, his smile still firmly cemented in place upon his visage.<span style="font-weight: bold">"Of course, Oberstleutnant,"</span>he said as he pushed the remnant of his cigar down into the glass, which he left on the desk.<span style="font-weight: bold"> "The time has come for movement. Without movement there is no progress, after all,"</span>he said as he moved towards the exit.<br/><br/><br/><span style="font-size: 110%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="font-weight: bold">5th July, 9:30<br/>Mittenwald, Bavaria</span></span><br/><br/><br/>The car ride was uneventful, for the most part; when the day began Zanzibar had every intention of learning of this Asmodai, gaining an idea of his demeanor and his thought processes, and he had accomplished what he sought after. The demon was certainly cunning, and if their game of mental chess told him anything, it was that Kohler would make a valuable asset. Zanzibar was aware of his attempts at breaking into his mind; the demon was obviously not comfortable with not having control, or the upper hand, however, Kohler retained his composure throughout all of it. Zanzibar purposely slipped subtle hints into his speech, small details, something so simple as a word pronounced more emphatically than the others, and he knew Asmodai missed none of them.<br/><br/>What use was there, being a God, without subjects worthy of his notice? Mindless sheep, zombies, they had limited uses, and not much beyond entertainment.<br/><br/>As the automobile continued forward, moving deeper into Mittenwald, Zanzibar felt several notable presences nearby. A muscle in his face twitched as he recognized one in particular- he would need to deal with that one, and soon. But not yet- the time was not right.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-style: italic">In due time. And then, there will be nothing left that can stop me.</span></span><br/><br/>He looked over to where Kohler was seated but said nothing, occupied with his own thoughts as he was.