Case File: Traitor in the Snow

Gefreiter Müller

 

I can still smell the smoke clinging to my hair, my skin, my uniform. MN-13 burns behind us, and with it the abomination we had nurtured. I should feel terror that we are on the verge of surrender, but instead I feel relief—relief the war is nearly over and a greater relief to be out of that hellhole.

 

Within those chambers, deep inside this cursed mountain, humanity was twisted into something unrecognisable. Dr. Delmore spoke of salvation through formulas, of a power incomprehensible to human minds—the ultimate killing machine that would win Germany the war. He said a few more months was all he needed. A few more months, and Germany would be victorious. The Reich would claim the world through the nightmare he was creating in MN-13. I didn't see victory on the horizon, I saw unspeakable atrocities—men carved open, reshaped, discarded. Experiments that turned subjects into some twisted, grotesque thing—still living, but no longer human. It wasn’t war that drove Dr. Delmore and his team of maniacs, it was obsession—a demented hunger to create something beyond human, something that would bend the world to the Reich’s will. And now, as the flames consume MN-13, I only hope that whatever they created would be lost forever.

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