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soviet russia zero

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~MisakiTanaka TAGGED ME.
You can steal it if you want.
/needs to stop doing crap!art memes

1. Yeah. Technically there are 15 FSU states, and Poland had lost some of its lands [legs lols] to Ukraine and Belarus... it also had a committee that was for the intention of creating a Polish SSR. Hungary was a short lived Soviet Republic, along with Bavaria who wished to break away from the Weimar Republic. Bulgaria also asked to be an SSR but was rejected. xD; Old East Prussia became the Kaliningrad Oblast, a district of Russia, so like [also with the whole Berlin thing. xD;] ...This is a meme, I'll stop ranting now. xD;

2. YES, I DO HAVEA RUSSIA COSPLAY. And French is sexy, too. [ /wants to see Soviet!France ohohohhhhh ]


4. Russia x Latvia, surprisingly... xD; I dunno why. 8D -likes seeing shota boys get tortured-

5. IT'S THE RED PHONE~ I know. Hell, I'm Canadian, I'm allowed to pick Russia's side goddamnit, we're commies anyway xD

6. I do think seperation from Russia by Ukraine would have been... not too happy. Quite serious indeed.

7. I THINK MAN!BELARUS WOULD BE JUST AS ELEGANT. Less scary though, more like a clingly fanboy. xD

8. I LOOKED FOR ANY KIND OF RELATION... THEY SERIOUSLY HAVE ZERO. NO EMBASSIES, MISSIONS, NOTHING. xD The mot I could find was a youtube video saying "Kenyan children say hi to Lithuania" and it wasn't even, like... xD;; Plus, from what I've extrapolated about Kenya's personality, I really don't think... they would work. At all. xD and it's het lol


10. I have no idea why I tried it in Fairly Oddparents style, by the way. xD;; It's not like I'm a fan of the show or anything. xD

11. ON TO OTTAWA!~ Seriously though. If you know this, have my babies. fdkgdfkvgfdvg maple sickles ftw. /also loves how Canada showed up TWICE in this SOVIET meme ahahahaaaa

12. Seriously, steal it plz.

Original Meme Here:: [link]

Time:: I dunno? 30minutes? xD;
Media:: Easy Paint Tool SAI.

All Depicted Characters (C) Hidekaz Himaruya.
Man!Belarus Design -> ~ephemeralDELUSiON.
Fairly Odd Parents (C) Uhm... Nickelodeon?;;;
ME (C) ~ephemeralDELUSiON LOLS.
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Ok so this one doesn't make as much sense as it should, but I don't care! Hahahahaha! Ha!

PROTIP: Don't divide by zero.
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So I was bored and decided to redesign my favorite beat 'em up duo; Sub-Zero and Scorpion.

I distanced myself from their original Ninja design and tried to make them very different from each other. I went with their most basic attributes and also took the chance to try a new style. A rather cartoony one.

I started out with Sub-Zero.

Sub-Zero is a cryomancer, cryomancer are a race of people that can control Ice. When I worked on his redesign I immediately thought about where he would live on this world. I thought about places that are known for cold temperature. Russia came to mind. He would probably wear Winter Clothes, not because of necessity but as a statement. I kind of got stuck on Russian Soviet Uniforms. But I didn't want him to look like some sort of soldier so I gave him that rather goofy looking hat.

He looks more like a contractor now. Some sort of person you'd hire to get things done.

Or some shit.
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In Soviet Russia ZERO divide by YOU.
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What if Kalinka should be a Playable Character?!

She could have the Same Skills as Zero from the megaman X Series(Except the Walljumping and the Rekkouha)

Kalinka Cossack is (c) to Capcom

Pic 100% Drawn by Me
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Zero Wing....good times.....someone set us up the bomb!! :shakefist:

This is wallpaper. Enjoy. Don't steal. Love it, share it, give credit if put on a wallpaper site or ANY SITE AT ALL. Much love, the Corporal.


In Soviet Russia,

All Your Bases
Belong To Us.

Make Your Time.
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Though the night was freezing, a calm mood filled the streets of Angel Falls. While Bardak monitored the city from a 3 story building, he couldn't help but notice the streets were beginning to fill up with soldiers from all branches of the armed forces on leave for the holidays. Memories of his past began to fill his mind as he saw soldiers returning to their family and friends.

"Just because you’re now a General, doesn't mean you can't see your family every now and then, or must I schedule an appointment, Mr. Big Shot”?

"Ha, it’s good to see you too father." Bardak replied when he first became a General.

“Good work Bardak; you just might be officer material.”

“Thank you, Sergeant” Bardak replied as a young cadet.

"Sir, permission to maliciously injure everyone into a coma who dares to take a bite of the surprise dish I created for this occasion."

Bardak chuckled as a young captain, "Permission granted, Anuna."

Though he came back to reality after he sensors detected someone approaching he position.

Olga noticed the black armored figure of Bardak from her nightly patrol. His silhouette was quite unmistakable given his distinctive looking helmet. She touched down on the roof of the building he was standing on, her boots crunching on the frozen gravel beneath her. From here she could see the General's breath so she knew it must be quite cold out, not being able to register the temperature properly by herself. The process that had created her into the Soviet super-weapon made her all but invulnerable to only the most extreme forms of heat or cold. Olga smiled warmly as she made her way over, the General himself having turned to see her.

"Greetings Comrade General. It is a cold night da?"

"Greetings Olga. My sensors indicate its 15 degrees Fahrenheit out tonight, though my armor has been designed to withstand extreme cold temperatures. May I ask what are you doing here?" Bardak replied

"Just on patrol really. Your armor may keep you warm, but is rather distinctive looking Comrade General. Making sure that the troops are making it in safely?" she said motioning to the disembarking soldiers below.

"Indeed, these soldiers put their lives on the line to protect this country. They earned some shore-leave for the holidays." he said while watching over the soldiers reuniting with their family.

"By the way, how are things going with Maia and you?" Bardak asked while looking at Olga curiously.

"Things go quite well Comrade General. We have found it best that we avoid speaking of politics at home and that makes a big difference. She shows me how to use something called the Tee-Vo and I cook for her some authentic Soviet dishes. It is working out very much well." Olga said smiling as she thought back to their first and last political battle. She would rather face a horde of Fourth Reich super-soldiers than go through that again.

"I'm glad hear things are going so well for you too" Bardak said smiling with a warm tone. As he turned back to the street, he stop smiling and let out a low sigh.

The former Russian farm-girl frowned noticing her friend's obvious change in demeanor. "What is it Comrade General? Something troubles you da?"

"It’s nothing’s just..." Bardak was soon interrupted when his BTR was going off. After getting out his BTR and entering his codes, he was shocked to see what was on his screen. He then transferred the message and coordinates to his helmet then looked at Olga.

"Olga, I just received a distress call from a transport plane on its way to Angel Falls. It’s been hit by a severe hail storm. Two of the aircraft's engines have been heavily damaged and there running low on fuel. By my estimates, the plane will crash in 37 minutes."

The woman known as the Soviet Superwoman met his grim expression with one of her own. She involuntarily began to hover in the air, her boots lifting off the ground a few feet.

"Which direction General, I will meet you there!"

"No need, we'll get there together" Bardak said as he got out his BTR. After typing in a few commands, he stood close to Olga, and then pressed two buttons on his BTR. A bright light suddenly engulfed both of them and they appeared on the bridge of Bardak's ship.

After a moment of being disoriented, the Soviet juggernaut looked around the bridge of the General's command vessel. It was a bright, highly advanced command center with smooth and highly durable bulkheads and holographic user interface devices expanding out of console tops. The General moved quickly, sitting down at the helm and began to rapidly type on one of the holographic panels. Olga looked out the main-viewer to see they were already on approach to the injured Lockheed C-130 Hercules. Smoke was belching out of both of its starboard engines as it was pelted by the vicious hailstorm. The doomed plane was descending towards the ocean at a staggering rate of speed.

"There," Bardak said as he continued to lock in commands, "I've jammed all communications and radar in a 10 mile radius. I'm going to move alongside it and focus on it with my ship's tractor beams. I'll need you to fly over and help me make sure those engines don't explode."

Olga nodded, clenching her fingers tight into her gloves as she watched the crippled military aircraft.

He then flew the Helios directly over the Hercules, protecting the aircraft from the falling hail, and then engaged his tractor beam. Once the Hercules was secure in mid-air, Bardak entered the codes to open one of the Helios's air-lock. As fast as a bullet, Soviet Superwoman flew out of the air lock and flew towards the two burning starboard engines. Smoke, engine debris, and flames clouded her sight while limiting her breathing; but that didn't stop her. She then grabbed both engines, unaffected by the intense heat, and then completely ripped the engines from the plane. While holding the engine over her head, the Helios tractor beam suddenly suspended the broken engines in mid-air along with the Hercules. Knowing the Hercules was safe; Soviet-Superwoman immediately flew towards the side hatch of the plane.

The Soviet Superwoman flew alongside the hatch and tapped on the steel door several times. A few seconds later a pair of soldiers slid the door open and let her aboard, quickly slamming it shut behind her. As Olga looked around the plane she could see it was packed with combat veterans returning home from active duty. They were all strapped in tight and bracing for the worst. Upon seeing her board the plane though they immediately began to cheer and looked visibly relieved. Having her here meant the chances of them plummeting to their deaths in the ice cold waters off of Angel Falls shot down to zero. At the moment, none of them were thinking about how the plane was being held steady as she was in front of them. A few of the passengers were injured, but it didn't look like anything too serious to her untrained eye.

"Everyone remain calm please” she said in a loud, clear voice, "you will be putting down in Angel Falls in a matter of moments."

She then moved towards the cabin at the front of the plane to discuss things with the pilots. While Soviet-Superwoman made her way to the cockpit, Bardak opened a channel with the pilots.

"C-130 Hercules, this is General Bardak commanding the U.R.S.S. Helios, what is your status?"

"Unknown, sir! Our starboard engines are completely gone yet we're not in the ocean. Also, Our port engines are active and we have the throttles at full but we're not moving, sir" one of the pilots said with confusion.

"I have you in my ships tractor beam; you'll be towed to the nearest airport. Soviet-Superwoman is currently on-board assisting the passengers. Please give her your full cooperation."

Both pilots were shocked to hear such news but replied in unison, "Yes, sir!"

After he ended the transmission, Bardak thought revealing his ship to the people at the airport could cause a great amount of chaos. He then entered his command codes into his helm, transporting multiple holo-emitters around his ship.

The muscular Slavic woman entered the cockpit just as the General was finishing his transmission. The entire flight crew turned around to see her, the once fear in their eyes transforming into hope. Two of Angel Falls Alpha level superheroes were helping them get through this. Where once death was a certainty now they had more than a fighting chance to live.

"I removed the malfunctioning engine. Now the risk to the plane is very low with the General's tow beams engaged." she said in a confident sounding voice.

The pilot nodded. "When the engine ripped away we all thought that was it."

"I apologize for the scare comrades. I will remain aboard as the General takes us in to make sure that no other disasters befall you."

"Thank you ma'am,” said the rattled co-pilot, "and can I say we are all honored to have you aboard."

Olga smiled "Thank you sir. There was a time when my presence on a United States military vessel would not have been as such."

Meanwhile on Bardak's ship, more of Bardak past suddenly filled his mind. He began seeing images of events from his past.

"Sir, there is a Chtranqua warship on an intercept course…its charging weapons. " said Bardak as a young ensign at the helm

"Bardak to Dr. Shaeki...prepare to receive incoming patients. Bridge to transporter room 5...beam all injured Horians directly to the medical bay." Bardak said while typing commands in his control panel as the captain on board the U.R.S.S. Solomon

Bardak quickly came back to reality as he heard a proximity alarm going off, informing him they are 5 minutes from visual range of the AF airport. Bardak then entered his command codes into his helm, activating all the holo-emitters placed all over his ship. The emitter projected a wide photonic field around Bardak's ship and tractor beam, disguising his ship as a Lockheed aircraft and his tractor beam as multiple grappling hooks.

Both Bardak's ship and the crippled aircraft landed on a commercial runway, away for the arriving and departing planes. Already fire trucks and ambulances were racing across the tarmacs to greet them. One of the soldiers in the back of the plane deployed the emergency landing slide and the returning military personnel were evacuating the downed transport. Olga made sure that the injured were helped off the plane. The flight control team each shook her hand as they made their way off and when the plane was completely empty the Soviet Superwoman descended to the ground outside. Luckily, the media had not yet arrived, but it would only be a matter of time. She gave a thumbs up signal to the General to let him know that everyone was off before making her way back over to his camouflaged vessel.

As soon as she entered, Bardak closed the hatch and was preparing to take off. Knowing it would raise a lot of suspicion and confusion if he took off without using the runway, Bardak steered his ship to an empty runway and used it to take off. He then entered a course to take them back to their original location.

Olga was quiet as she watched the General maneuver his magnificent airship. Something about him seemed different to her though. He seemed tired looking, the lines on his brow furrowed as if he were in deep thought or deep concentration. His hands worked. At first Olga thought he was simply coming down from the previous excitement, but there was something else there. She waited a long few moments before she spoke, breaking the awkward silence that had enclosed them both together.

"Comrade General, Is everything alright?"

Bardak looked away, knowing she sensed something was wrong with him. Knowing she might understand what he is going through, he activated the auto-pilot, and then he sat up straight and turned to her.

"I'm sure you already went through what I think I'm going through. I guess after all this time; being trapped in this dimension, my memories decided to re-appear at random times and it’s starting to make me feel homesick for the Republic and while reminding me of times I want to forget."

Olga nodded slowly, letting him read her emotions as her answer.
Coming to Angel Falls had not at all been of her own design and it had been sudden and violent. Everything she knew, her entire world had been burned away from her like ash and she was left in a strange, futuristic place. A parody of the world she had known her entire life. Up was down and black was white. It had taken her a few years to simply acclimate to the new time and place let alone fall in love, marry and have any semblance of a social life, but all the while she was haunted by what was happening to her home. Were they victorious despite her loss and driven off the alien invaders...were they suffering and struggling still...or was it already over long ago and nothing remained of her homeland but skeletons and charred husks of buildings in the landscape. Most of the time these thoughts were kept far away by the day to day situations here in Angel Falls but every once and awhile they would grow huge in her mind and bear down on her as if they did not want to be forgotten. She knew more than anything what Bardak was going through emotionally.

"When you first arrived in Angel Falls...How did you react to everything being more advanced than you own time period? Bardak said curiously.

"Well, it was very disorienting... Dizzying. Everything was so very confusing but at the same time I was curious. You must also remember that it was not just the technology but the way people talked and dressed...the openness was staggering. It was nothing like I had ever experienced. It was all so overwhelming and at times I still do not think I understand the simplest things. The most interesting thing in retrospect was likewise how much people were interested in me, like I was an antique or link to the past. Is that how it felt for you, like you were looking at the antiques of the past?"

"Well sort of... At first, I thought I crashed on another planet in one of the farthest reaches of the galaxy. For hours, I tried to contact any Republic outpost, ship, even headquarters itself; but I didn't get any response from anyone or any signal from any form of starships. I wasn't until I picked up some ancient Earth radio frequencies that haven't been used in over 90 years that I realized I had to be on Earth. After I scanned for the nearest city, which was the city called Angel Falls; I disguised my ship and headed for the city. I traveled for days on those primitive concrete roads and was constantly being bombarded by the loud honking noise made from those "cars" when they got near me. When I arrived at the city, I was surprised to see everything all chaotic, primitive, and disorganized. Though after a few days, I quickly adapted and accepted the fact that I was in a different time period. How long did it take you to adapt?

"It was more difficult than just a few days. Everything had changed. The world as I had known it was completely gone. A computer more powerful than anything at all in my universe could now be held in the palm of your hand. News from around the globe could be yours to read or watch instantly. It felt smaller...but it also felt less personal. I do not enjoy saying this but I was afraid, Comrade General. All I wanted to do was go back home, the one thing I could not do. It would seem you had the easier time acclimating."

Bardak lightly chuckled, "Well if you put it that way, I guess I did have an easier time, but that's only because I had some help adjusting to this primitive version of my world."

"Well this world is very fortunate to have you, your selflessness and your abilities Comrade." Olga smiled.

Bardak arched his brow and smiled, "Aren't we the modest one?"

"I am telling you nothing but the truth as I have seen it. Dwelling on one's past is something I have had to struggle with for a long time. A personal demon. Let us instead look to the future and the great goods that we can both accomplish da?"

Bardak chuckled, "Well, you could say I'm already a part of that future and what you see around you is one of the millions of great goods humanity as least they will eventually. Thank you Olga, it feels nice knowing there is at least one person in this dimension or the next that can understand what I going though. "

"Likewise Comrade General." Olga said smiling. "If I might ask a favor? Since we are already aboard such a magnificent vessel and your capabilities are much faster than my own, could we perhaps make a detour to France? I have something in mind to purchase for my Возлюбленная, if is not too much troubles."

Bardak smirked at her request, nodded and entered a new course into his helm."


First a major thanks to :iconatomskmaster6: for coming up with this collaboration and then commissioning this amazing piece of art by our good friend :iconspiresrich:, who has mastered both of our characters perfectly. His images are full of mood and atmosphere and I appreciate all the time and careful thought he puts into them.

:iconatomskmaster6: is an exceptional author and the creator/owner of General Bardak. Please stop by his page and read more of his tales with this inventive and original character. Working on this story with him was, as always, a delight.

Soviet Superwoman is my creation and property.

This co-written tale takes place in :iconangel-fallsda:
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Antarctica, a.k.a Neuschwabenland

Ilsa Hauppman hung up her cellphone as the young officer burst into her private chamber. She frowned at the lack of protocol, but the look on the soldier's face told her that whatever it was it must have been urgent. Svetlana quickly recovered and saluted her Reichsführer with her arm outstretched like a steel bar, swallowing hard. She just realized what she had done and her eyes bulged for a moment. Ilsa waived it away and waited for the member of her personal guard to relay whatever it was that was so important. The tall, uniformed woman returned her arm to her side and began to speak, her voice with just the tint of a fearful tone.

"My Reichsführer, I am afraid to report that Oberstabsführerin Brunhilda Adelar has escaped. She overpowered several soldiers and has fled Jotunheimr."

The officer looked directly at her superior, expecting at any moment for the smaller woman to fly into one of her well documented, unpredictable rages. Ilsa's temper was legendary and frightening to behold. Once she had even transformed into her bestial form and thrown aside a handful of her own scientists when they failed to provide results on one of her many experiments in extra-dimensional portals. Another time she had assailed her own command staff verbally, throwing objects at them from her desk. The younger woman was surprised when Ilsa returned a bored expression.

"Is that all?"

"Y-yes Reichsführer." Svetlana stammered out, still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Very well. Are you tracking her?"

"We are," she began nodding, "it appears she is moving across the Atlantic and towards..."

"Germany." Ilsa said, putting down her phone and reaching for her morning tea. "She'll go to the Fatherland."

"You do not seem surprised Reichsführer." the officer spoke, almost regretting she had said it out-loud.

"I'm not. I rarely am. Continue tracking her, but make no move to intercept her. She'll be returning to us very soon."

"Yes Reichsführer." Svetlana snapped to attention and saluted her leader again. Ilsa half-heartedly saluted her back and took a sip of her tea.


Brunhilda's heart was pounding loudly in her chest as she approached Berlin. She truly enjoyed flying, the freedom and exhilaration of hurtling through the skies at close to the speed of sound, or even exceeding it. The cut and thrust of aerial combat, fighting and reacting almost without thinking. In the dying days of the Reich, Brunhilda was ordered by the Reichsmarshall Hermann Goering to flee to Antarctica and the secret bases there with the last remnants of the Reich's ultra-secret high tech weaponry, such as the infamous Flying Gyros, robots and other wunderwaffe in the hopes of preserving some part of the Nazi Regime. There she was frozen in cryostasis in the Ahnenerbe facility, the place that Ilsa Hauppman and her so-called Fourth Reich called Jotunheimr. She wasn't a murderer like the SS. When she killed it was when she had to and in the name of the Fatherland and the Reich. People like Ilsa Hauppman were nothing more than murderers...thugs in jackboots and black uniforms, selected from the criminals of Germany. She still had her doubts that Hauppman was even a hold-over from the Struggle, but something about the woman nagged at her that she was the genuine article. After all, she herself had been thawed out from seventy years of cryogenic sleep, perhaps this madwoman had been some project of the SS as well. Regardless, she had managed to overpower her guards and escape with relative ease. It would be glorious to see Berlin again after all these years and perhaps get the answers she sought as well.

She flew low in a deliberately circuitous fashion, she didn't want to betray her flight path from 'Jotunheimr', at least until she was sure of the age she was in...

Oberstabsführerin Adelar landed near the Brandenburg Gate, gazing up at it with a mixture of joy and national pride. Tears glazed her eyes over as she looked it over. She could almost hear the Königgrätzer Marsch as she studied the landmark, the tears streamed down her cheeks now, hot and wet, a smile on her lips. It was exactly as she remembered it, even if the area around it had changed...Berlin had changed. It was modernized, full of high-tech looking buildings and strange looking automobiles. She would have a great deal to catch up on technologically from the last seven decades since the end of the Struggle. A crowd of stunned onlookers had gathered around her in a circle where she had come down. The woman known as Die TodesEngel turned to them and spoke in her native German to them. So many foreigners among them, swarthy faces she was sure would not have fit in the Third Reich. Things had indeed changed...

"People of the Fatherland, I have come home to you!" she spoke in a confident voice.

She turned to address a young woman in a colorful headscarf, she looked African. "Good day, miss. How do you find Germany?" she spoke cheerfully in English, addressing the bewildered girl she assumed was a tourist. She wanted to be as friendly as possible, this new Germany was as strange and wondrous to her as she assumed it would be to all these 'foreigners'. Himmler would disapprove, but then again she was not SS, so to hell with their bizarre racial myths. These were still people, less civilized perhaps being foreigners, but no less human. And they were guests in her country, too!

"I'm sorry, I don't understand," the girl replied in perfect German. " think I'm a foreigner? I was born here, I am a citizen."

 Brunhilda's eyes widened in surprise. What had happened to her Fatherland?

More and more people had started to gather around and gawk at the beautiful shapely redhead who had descended from the skies like an angel, but Brunhilda continued to smile. They were pointing at her Knight's Cross, the wartime Luftwaffe insignia on her uniform, and the swastikas on her twin swords. Whispering, murmuring.

"She's gorgeous!" Wolf whistles.

"Are you an actress?" " "Good grief, they're filming another war movie!" "Better a war movie than shite like 'Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters'!"

"I don't see any cameras!" "You've got a camera in your iPhone, idiot! Use it!" "No, I meant...never mind."

"No, she flew in, she's some sort of metahuman!"

"Must be some sort of promotion for the Luftwaffe!" "Yes, she definitely looks like one of those hot Luftwaffe models, but the god, that's Nazi!"

"You can't wear those!" Someone shouted at her, pointing at the swastikas on her blades. "That's illegal!"

"Someone call the police!"

"She's some sort of Nazi supersoldier!"

"If this is a joke, it's not funny..."

And then someone finally recognized her. That was when things got ugly very quickly.

"You! The Angel of Death!" cried an old man in his late 70's, who tottered towards Brunhilda on unsteady legs.

Angel of Death. That was what they called that madman Mengele.

"I saw you flying over our camp many times. You knew what was going on there! You should have gone to the gallows for your crimes..." he fumed.

The crowd chimed in "Where have you been hiding all these years?? How dare you show your face here??"

"I lost my entire family in the death camps! I was at Majdanek!!" he shoved his withered forearm under Brunhilda's nose, the eerie numeric tattoo still visible after all these years.

"You fought for all that is wrong with this country, and you can proudly stand in the middle of Berlin with Nazi symbols on your chest?? You Nazis tried to exterminate my entire people!!"

"Exterminate?? I...I don't understand..." Hilde stammered, genuinely confused. "Yes, there were concentration camps, but were held there for the greater good. You were a threat to...Germany..."

"I was five years old! Women, children, old men! What threat to Great Germany were we? Interned in our millions, slaughtered like cattle! Warsaw, Krakov, flattened because we dared to fight back against the SS!! SLAUGHTERED!!!"

"I'm not...SS. I was...I serve in the Luftwaffe. It was the Allies...they attacked and destroyed anything that moved. Supplies couldn't reach the camps, people starved, just as they did in the rest of Germany. We all suffered. But I tried to stop them, to save my people..." She remembered the bombs falling, the wailing of air raid sirens all around her as she ascended to do battle with the enemy bomber formations flattening her country...

"MY people were slaughtered!! Millions died, because of Hitler and his insane policies! YOU DARE defend the Nazis??? You SCUM!!" he spat in her face. It hit her harder than anything had ever done, not even anti-aircraft shells, enemy battleships or the blows of a superhuman foe.

The crowd surged in, feeding on the old man's anger. They reached for her medals, trying to rip them off her. Dozens of hands tried to shove her, reaching out for her, clawing, faces blurred in anger.

Suddenly a group of youths with shaven heads, clad in tight American jeans, jackboots and black jackets, rushed in to attack the people crowding around Hilde. They had noticed the commotion, and appeared to be trying to defend her against the angry mob, throwing bottles, punching and kicking. Someone pulled a knife. A flash of steel. Blood. Screams. Some of the shaven-headed youths turned to salute her, shouting 'Sieg Heil! Sieg Heil!"

The situation was turning ugly, as more and more people rushed to the scene, but far, far more were fighting against the 'skinheads' than supporting them. It was turning into a riot, with Hilde standing confused and bewildered in the eye of the storm. Broken glass and blood everywhere. It was true what Ilsa had said, the 'Nazis' were now the...villains. Her head swimming, she tried to break up the struggling mass of humanity, but ended up flinging people dozens of feet through the air, she simply couldn't control her strength, such was her confused mental state. Cries of agony, bodies writhing in pain, some weren't moving at all. People were screaming in fear and pain around her, looking at her with terrified eyes. Like she was a monster.

"Murderer!" someone shouted from behind her.

"Butcher!" Came another.

Brunhilda looked all around her and saw the looks on the faces of her countrymen. Some were aghast. Other shook their heads and turned away. The majority of them gazed on her with cruel, hate-rimmed eyes. She opened her mouth to say something when the first rock hit her in the back of the head. Her invulnerability caused her to take no real damage from the stone, but the emotional damage stilled her tongue. Another rock pelted her, bouncing off her uniformed body. The mob had surged forward towards her, ripping at her uniform. It was the uniform and the medals and symbols she proudly wore that were reviled. Everything she had stood for was now held in contempt. She loved her country and believed that Germany had been in the right, that her cause had been just. Now she saw what defeat had meant for the German people. The Allies had over time caused her own people to betray the very memory of all those that fought and died for the German cause. All they saw was a monster, proudly displayed in a hated uniform from a hated empire. 

"Enough!" Brunhilda stamped her foot with enough controlled force to cause a mini earthquake, the concussion knocking the angry mob off their feet and driving them back, setting off car alarms and shattering windows up to half a mile away. She did not want to hurt them, but she'd be damned if she'd let them touch her medals, mere trinkets to them, symbols of a hated regime that rewarded heinous acts, but to her they were symbols of her sacrifice and devotion to her beloved homeland. She would have to explain to them, make them understand what it was she had fought for. They had only forgotten and there were so many young faces.

The sounds of approaching sirens marked the arrival of the Bundespolizei, the German police. They piled out of their vehicles, drawing down on her with an assortment of firearms and taking up defensive positions all around her. Many of them had shields and wore helmets and what appeared to be body armor as well as being armed with submachineguns, looking more like soldiers than policemen. The audacity! Who the hell did they think they were dealing with? She was not an enemy to Germany or the German people, she was their protector! They were shouting at her to drop her weapons and lay down on the ground. The crowd of angry people had receded to the sides, shouting at her, calling her all manner of names, wishing death upon her, blaming her for all manner of terrible deeds. She tried to block out their angry, hate-fueled jeers. It was the fates that were really mocking her, sparing her just so she could see her country brought low by the Allies and turned against her. Germany, that she had loved more than anything else on Earth and meant more to her than her own life.

There was a loud crack and one of the submachineguns held by the police barked, slamming a 9mm round into her shoulder. The bullet caused no damage but she turned towards the officers with a sneer that caused their blood to run cold and their balls to retract into their groins. Her shock and confusion turned to anger- how dare these piss-ants shoot at her, after she had sacrificed so much for their grandfathers?? She took a step towards them, hiding like vermin behind their vehicles, bullet-proof shields and open car-doors. The police opened fire all at once, burying her in a hail of gunfire. The bullets ricocheted off her invulnerable body, screams of pain echoed through the plaza as the stray bullets found unintended targets. Brunhilda's eyes went wide in horror as she saw people, men, women and children who had not taken cover, crumple as the rounds aimed at her hit them instead. "No! Stop!!" she cried out at the policemen, but they kept on firing in panic. She had returned home to a country that not only did not want her, but wanted her dead and all traces of the Third Reich along with it. "Please...stop this..." Brunhilda felt sick to her stomach, she hadn't meant for this to happen, she did not want to cause her countrymen any pain or suffering. Without another word she launched herself back into the skies and shot away from Berlin, crying.

    Two Luftwaffe QRA Typhoons of JG 71 'Richthofen' shot off the Wittmundshafen runway in under seven seconds, followed by another pair, and they quickly streaked after the retreating Todesengel as she sped across Northern Germany towards the North Sea. Their mission, to bring her back to Germany for trial, if at all possible. Shoot down orders were granted by the German Chancellor, overriding existing NATO Allied Air Component Headquarters intercept protocols. The German authorities were jittery- first, the never-ending war of terror, then the economic meltdown leading to rising levels of unemployment, social discontent, rising racial tensions, widespread despair, and now this, the sudden appearance of an immensely powerful Nazi metahuman that far-right wing groups and extremists could rally around. Dozens, hundreds had been hurt and killed in Berlin, though reports indicated that Die Todesengel was not directly responsible. No matter. The Chancellor would not risk having Germany plunged into chaos again...


Several miles over Germany

Brunhilda was lost in her own world, confused and dazed, hurtling over her homeland at several hundred miles an hour. Had she not fought hard, almost to the bitter end for Germany and her people? What had happened to her country? Was the leadership of the Führer and the government so wrong? What they had done was to restore the honor and pride of the German people brought low after the humiliating Treaty of Versailles, she remembered the chaos and fighting, the food lines, the crippling shortages, going hungry as a little girl. She knew that many had been sacrificed for this goal of rebuilding a shattered and humiliated Germany. But had they been deliberately killed? All she had heard and seen were that they had been deported to the concentration camps  to live in harsh conditions, but it was wartime. Such measures were necessary. She'd heard rumors, especially in German-occupied Eastern Europe and Russia, but dismissed them as much. They did things differently in the East. SS cruelty was a fact, but surely such mass-killings could not have been performed by her own people? After all, despite the Führer's rhetoric, surely he didn't mean to actually kill all those people?

She breached the ceiling of clouds at 35,000 feet. Flying helped to clear her head, and take her mind off what had just happened, but barely. It was then she noticed the dark grey objects rising rapidly towards her. She tensed...enemy fighters? She gripped the handles of her swords, were the other European powers now aware of her presence? Still, she wanted to get a better look at these new aircraft and so flew in close. To her surprise there were Iron Crosses on the jets' fuselages! Despite their acting in a threatening manner towards her, boxing her in a four-plane diamond to escort her back to the nearest German airfield, 'Hilde was fascinated and enthralled by the beautifully engineered products of the Luftwaffe. She was admiring the new generation jagdfliegers of her Fatherland, waving at the pilots who were gesturing at her to follow them, even rolling under the belly of the flight leader to inspect this new jet.

 "So sleek, so beautiful!", she whispered to herself in awe.

The Luftwaffe pilots of Raptor Flight knew who she was, and what she was capable of. They'd been cleared to open fire if she even appeared threatening, they weren't about to take any chances with someone as powerful as she was.

The pilot of the trailing Typhoon in the formation had given the verbal command "Rakete Sperre Auf", locking his weapons onto 'Hilde as she flew close to his flight leader. His eyes bulged wide when he saw Die Todesengel perform a graceful roll, disappearing underneath the lead aircraft. "Where is she?? All fliers, where is the target??" The two wingmen banked their wings, trying to visually acquire Hilde, as the flight leader, call sign Adler, tracked her under his fuselage. "Calm down, Würger, she's just admiring my jet," the flight leader said matter-of-factly. Jagdflieger Number Four, call sign Würger, was nervous. Although an experienced pilot with multiple F-22 kill-markings on his fuselage gained during air combat exercises against the best the Amis had to offer, he knew full well what a high level meta could do even against the latest generation war machines. He shuddered when he recalled what destruction the Soviet Superwoman had wreaked on her own countrymen a few years back...

Würger dove down behind his flight leader, gasping in horror when he saw 'Hilde reaching out towards the missile-festooned underbelly of the leading Typhoon. She was smiling, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. 'A wicked smile', Würger thought, 'she's going to tear him apart!' "Adler, tango is going for you!" Without thinking, he shouted, "Fuchs Zwei!", launching one of his German-designed IRIS-T ASRAAM's at Brunhilda. The missile streaked towards her even as the flight leader shouted "No, hold fire, she's not hostile!!"

 'Hilde's eyes opened in surprise as she suddenly found herself under attack, this time by her beloved Luftwaffe! She dove upwards, rocketing out from under the jet she had been admiring so closely. The ASRAAM turned to intercept her and slammed into the underside of the plane, reducing it to a flaming ball of wreckage. Number Four banked hard to the side to avoid the fireball, as the other two Typhoons screamed in behind 'Hilde, trying to engage her with guns. Instinctively she jinked to dodge the high velocity 27mm shells, drawing her swords.

'Hilde performed a tight Immelman, turning back into her sleek pursuers. She dove directly at one of the oncoming Typhoons as it loosed another burst at her, banking just enough to miss the craft as it passed her while raking her blades across the wing. It came off clean, sending the plane into a wingover, spiraling down, out of control. "Horrido!" 'Hilde found herself shouting. It was exhilarating, but at the same time horribly wrong. These were her countrymen.... She was supposed to protect them, fight for them, not kill them...She paused only long enough to make sure the pilot had ejected, then went back to the business at hand. These boys meant to kill her.

She was now hot on the tail of the third Typhoon as it rocketed vertically into the sky. Falke performed a tight turn to get back to level flight, furiously twisting and turning, trying to throw her off, loosing a barrage of flares that did little more than annoy 'Hilde. Craning his neck over his shoulder, Falke shouted "Fuchs Zwei!", launching an IRIS-T directly behind him at the pursuing Todesengel. She banked hard to avoid it, looping, jinking and rolling across the skies, her superhuman reflexes allowing her to react far faster than any human, but the nimble dogfight missile simply kept on her, performing incredible 60 degree turns at a punishing 60 gs to keep up with her dazzling aerobatics. 'Hilde could not help but admire this technological marvel that German ingenuity had produced, even as it closed in to kill her. "Concentrate, 'Hilde," she thought, "this is combat, not a game."


'Hilde picked up speed, keeping well ahead of the IRIS-T. Abruptly she stopped, whirling about to face the hypermach instrument of death bearing down on her. "Thunderclap!" she shouted, clapping her hands together to create a massive sonic shock wave that vaporized the pursuing missile, powerful enough to rock the two remaining Typhoons that were still attempting to shoot her down.

Mere seconds had passed. 'Hilde reacquired Typhoon Number Three as it passed under her, she swooped down towards it like a hawk on its prey, dropping alongside the cockpit. Not to destroy it, but to try to reason with the pilot. Falke banked hard to the left. Just then she was alerted to the presence of the fourth jet behind her, bouncing her in a classic set-up.

Falke cross-controlled his aircraft, effectively throwing his nimble Typhoon out of controlled flight, just barely missing 'Hilde to give his wingman a clear shot. "Insane!!" 'Hilde thought admiringly, almost smiling. She was still exhilarated by the thrill of engaging in aerial battle again, even if it was against her own countrymen. Würger was trying to rake her with gunfire, eager to avenge the death of his flight leader. 'Hilde shot away, going supersonic to escape, but the aggressive Typhoon driver simply kicked in his afterburner and followed her. He was not going to let her get away.

'Hilde dove towards the surface of the North Sea to shake him off, but the stubborn Luftwaffe pilot doggedly pursued her. Skimming close to the wave tops, she banked and jinked furiously as the Typhoon driver blasted round after round of cannon fire at her. She climbed rapidly to perform another graceful Immelman, but Würger grimly followed her, his sleek grey mount clawing into the sky after its prey.

Their aerial dance of death was fast approaching its climax. 'Hilde had had enough. She performed another loop, diving straight towards Würger. They rocketed towards each other at hundreds of miles an hour, neither willing to back down in this supreme game of chicken. The Typhoon pilot snarled and pressed the trigger, spitting out round after round at Brunhilda as they hurtled towards each other. He launched all his remaining missiles at Brunhilda, but she swatted them aside like flies. Running out of ammo, he accelerated, intending to ram the Angel of Death. 'Hilde closed her eyes, tears streaming down her face. "Please, don't..."

Würger screamed, "Für Deutschland, ich diene!!"

A fireball erupted over the North Sea, marking the destruction of Jagdflieger Number Four. Mercifully, the sole surviving Typhoon had already turned back towards Germany.

'Hilde was unscathed, but her soul had been torn apart. She let out a cry of anguish so loud and terrible it could be heard hundreds of miles away.


'Hilde sank to her knees in the raging blizzard. It was 40 below zero and the cold would have killed a lesser mortal, but ‘Hilde felt nothing. Nothing, not even in her heart. Just an all-consuming emptiness. Her tears flowed, but they did not freeze. Heavy footfalls shook the earth as a massive shadow loomed over her. The would-be demigod Genocide paused as Brunhilda drew her swords and glared at her. Even in her monstrous form, Brunhilda recognized her as Ilsa Hauppman, leader of the Fourth Reich. Specially crafted from exotic alloys, they sliced through Allied armor plating like a hot knife through butter. 'Hilde had sent two British battleships to the bottom of the English Channel with them. Ilsa hesitated, looking down at her.

"Are you here to kill me?" Hilde asked quietly, almost hoping that the answer would be yes.

"Why would I have any interest in that? I wanted to welcome you back home Oberstabsführerin Adelar."

It seemed like a lifetime before ‘Hilde bowed her head and laid her swords at Ilsa's feet.

"I swore this oath when I joined the Luftwaffe more than 70 years ago, " ‘Hilde intoned, 'I take this holy oath before God, that I will render unconditional obedience to the Führer of the German Reich and of the German people, Adolf Hitler, and as a brave soldier will be prepared at any time to sacrifice my life for this oath.'

Choking back tears, ‘Hilde continued

"And to you Reichsführer Ilsa Haupmann, the successor Führer of the Fourth Reich, I pledge my loyalty."

A smile crept across Genocide's face. She was rarely surprised.


This was a sequel to: Neubeginn by Soviet-Superwoman

An INCREDIBLE collaboration between myself and :iconjohnnyharadrim:, who provided this amazing piece of artwork! OMG

The story was written by both of us and we hope you enjoyed.

Die Todesengel is :iconjohnnyharadrim:'s property and creation and expect to see more of her. ;) (Wink)

Ilsa Hauppman and the Fourth Reich are my property and creations.

This story takes place in the :iconangel-fallsda:universe.

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Country: USSR/Russian Federation
Date: 1989 - Mid 1990's
Branch: Motostrelki (Motorized Rifles)
Rank: Ryadovoi (Private)
Location: USSR/Russia

Although originally issued to 'Special Troops' such as VDV, Spetsnaz, and DshMG as early as 1986, Motostrelki did not see wide use of the Obr88 uniform on Ryadovoi i Serzeantyi Sostav (Enlisted Men and Sergeants) until after the Soviet Union's retreat from Afghanistan. The uniform was still worn with the Soviet pattern belt as well as Sapogi (Jackboots) as late as the mid-1990's by some Category III/C Units. 

This configuration is worn with the collar closed in Motostrelki regulation, however, instead of being worn with the Obr88 Kepka (Kepi), it is worn with an Ushanka. This was often done during fall and winter months when the temperature was cool, yet not cold enough to merit wearing the full padded winter Obr88 ensemble which is rated to keep one worn below zero temperatures.

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Please disseminate widely, thank you! This does not give permission to alter or claim credit for this re-mixed work, for which I retain all copyrights. The original illustration is in the public domain.

If you disagree with the views expressed here, please be sure to read my Policy Statement BEFORE you post: [link]

The Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI) reports that in 2012 the United States spent $711 billion on defense, or, 41% of the world's total defense expenditures. That's roughly five times the amount spent by China, and ten times the amount spent by Russia.

America has more than 700 overseas military bases (the Pentagon cannot provide an exact number); the Russians have 11, 10 of which are located in former Soviet republics; the Chinese, zero.
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