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The chanters lowered their arms, exhausted by the effort. Groebel smiled: They had only lost three of them in the attempt.

"Get the others food and water. We start again in two hours."

He grabbed his Waffen bodyguard and ran up the stairs from the bunker's main hall, unholstering his pistol as he did so, not even daring to hope that they might have succeeded. His eyes barely needed to readjust to the outside conditions, so dark were the clouds thrown up by the burning city.
There it was, standing like a monument to his belief and dedication to the fuhrer: A gleaming white building, transposed upon Koenigsplatz, Green and blue banners trailing in the breeze.

He had done it. Groebel fell to his knees, cackling with laughter.

He had saved Berlin.

The Shamballans had arrived.

***

Edward looked up suddenly. Somewhere, in amongst the cacophony of Berlin's destruction, there had been a sound... something that had reminded him... it couldn't be...

Pyotr looked up from the ground and noticed that Edward had stopped walking. "Something the matter? Why'd you stop?"

"I just heard... something..."

Pyotr raised an eyebrow. This guy definitely was the one from the reports.

"It sounded like something from the Reichstag..."

Pyotr shook his head. "Even if I let you go there, it's still hostile territory, and it's not our concern, there are other units making their push there. I must insist that you come with me."

Edward looked down. Maybe it had just been a trick, another cruel twist of fate. "Nevermind... lead away."

They walked through the shattered remains of a restaurant, emerging on the other side to find a T-34 muscling its way through a small walled garden. Edward looked up at the infantry riding on its back, and almost laughed. The officer was Mustang.

The Polkovnik jumped down, straightened his great-coat and walked up to the two of them, papers from a newspaper stand nearby fluttering their way past him into whatever escape they could find.

"What the hell is this civilian doing here, Pyotr?"

"I thought he would be of interest to you, sir, there was an intelligence briefing about him."

"Oh yes, I remember..." The Polkovnik considered, as a hooded figure, Ed assumed a sniper, stepped out beside him, her voice another one he hadn't heard since he had passed through.

"It came right from the top, sir." This last statement caused Ed's eyes opened wide. From the top? It couldn't be... how could they have known?!

"From Stalin himself."

***

There was a disturbing silence around the Reichstag. The building had simply forced it's way into existence, in between the advancing Soviet troops and the remaining Wermacht defenders. Hughes reloaded another Bandoleer into his Kar98 as he crawled over the small redoubt on Koenigsplatz, straining to get a better view. As a partisan, he hadn't quite been quite sure what to do even before this... this thing had appeared, since he remained dubious as to what the Red Army would do to Fritz Lang, Noah and the other "Undesireable" figures he and Ed had managed to hide from the Nazis. But now... this... He shook his head. Gracia was sure as hell not going to believe him.

He snapped out of his reverie, remembering how close he was to the Soviet positions- he was in no hurry to reveal himself after all- and tried to head back to the sewer entrance he had emerged from. But then he heard angry commands from his right, and turned to see the Russians reacting to the building. Fear of the unknown, as Ed had told him so many years ago, was natural. He cursed under his breath as the Soviets pulled up anti-tank guns to blow the building to pieces. He was sure that whatever kind of... science? Or magic -or whatever the hell it was that made the world turn in these days where it struggled to tear itself to pieces- that had placed this building here, there were people inside. Checking that the Russians were busy loading their artillery pieces, he sprinted across the first line of trenches, heading for what he hoped was the building's entrance.

This was not going to be easy.

***

Havoc felt his way up the wall. What the fuck had just happened?! He saw blonde hair splayed out beside him, and turned to see Lieutenant Rockbell where she had been thrown onto the ground.

"Winry?!"

Her eyes fluttered open "What the..."

"I don't know." He looked around to see Fuery, Breda and Falman picking themselves up, though Breda's right arm was hanging loosely while he tore a sling for himself from the sleeve.

Winry took stock of the situation and rose to her feet. "Everyone able to move?" With the affirmitive nods, she quickly carried on giving the order she had almost had time to give before.

"Get to the exits, try to gather as many as you can. This building's gonna crumble any moment." As they parted, she saw the entrance to the Brigadeer General's office blocked by rubble.

"Brigadeer? Captain?!" She shouted into the fallen concrete, trying to find a way around the blockage, but seeing none.

"Winry!" She heard a muffled voice from the other side. "We're ok, we'll find another way out. Go!"

She nodded and ran for the door, before falling flat as the first shell struck home.