The second more heavily armed and armored group of Howlers watched through hacked street cameras as Nemeria and her friends took out the decoys. Everything was going exactly to plan. They had even taken the precaution of acquiring police uniforms so nobody would know who they really were until it was too late.

"Rasierhund eh?" Remarked the leader, spotting the vampirzahn in one of the hund's hands as he watched the screen intently. Young as he was, Arnold Temple was still a veteran of the Döbian armed forces and he recognized the weapon, if not the wielder.

His grandfather had fought in the Second Continental War, or CW2 as it was frequently called, and he had passed down stories to his son about Gershwin's monsters. The old one eyed hund had liked to sit in his rocking chair with a beer and tell about how he had fought alongside the jagdkommandos, the Döbian warhunds.

"Ja, they were magnificent." He would say proudly. "If we had more of their kind we would have won the war. Now every army has their own version, their own enhanced soldiers, but Döbi, she was the first!"

However one night, when he was truly drunk and morbid, Grandfather Temple had told young Arnold about the other warhunds. The ones that Gershwin had kept for his own private army. The rasierhunds. The bloodthirsty monsters that existed only to kill.

"They are… not like us." Grandfather Temple had said darkly. "I saw one once, just sitting on top of a pile of bodies, reclining on the dead like a throne. He looked at me like I was nothing, like I was less than prey. When I asked who he was they told me it was a rasierhund, sent to clear the way for our forces. They had killed hundreds per day, mowed down the enemy like wheat with their vampirzahns."

"Later I saw another, sitting on his own pile of corpses. Being young and stupid I asked him why he was sitting up there and do you know what he said? He told me that he liked the view." Grandfather Temple had shuddered at the memory. "Imagine that, he just liked the view."

Arnold was pulled out of his reverie by the touch of a large hand on his shoulder.

"His name is Simon." Rasped his second in command, a battle scar covered Möhin bruiser named Richard Baskin. "He's a real prick. The pink one's called Springer, and the katzen is Genevieve Geneva. They're all heavy hitters. I don't recognize the human."

Where Arnold was young, slim and lean Richard was middle aged and built like a brick shit house. It might have seemed odd that hunds from Möhi would join the Howlers, after all the Howl was a historically Döbian organization, but hate made for strange bedfellows.

In the decades after the war the Howler's ideology had found fertile soil in the home of their former enemies. The world had changed, becoming more progressive, more inclusive, and those that didn't like it had rallied around the Howlers.

"She sure can take a hit, probably some skyborn slumming with hunds." Observed Arnold. "We should try and recover her wetware if we can, that shit is worth a fortune."

"If there's anything left." Richard stroked his grenade launcher meaningfully. "Still, it's strange they would all be here."

He looked back at the dozen other bruisers, all armed to the teeth, and found himself wondering if he had brought enough people. It was best not to take risks where rasierhund were concerned. "We need drone support."

"Yeah." Agreed Arnold. He closed his eyes and accessed the stalker drone they had stashed on a rooftop earlier. The two meter long stealth aircraft shimmered then disappeared as its active camouflage came on line. It would launch itself into the sky and loiter above the graveyard while they worked. "Sixty seconds until the drone is within firing distance."

"Good. Good." The second in command looked back at his soldiers. "Hit them with everything you've got, don't hold back, and if you think one of them is down, confirm the kill with the heaviest weapon you have. Now sync up."

The fourteen hunds shivered as the pack bond took hold. Then all as one they slowly exhaled, emptying shared lungs. They were all one organism, one mind, one will. One hatred.

With mechanical precision they exited the building where they had been holed up and rushed the cemetery, keeping the thick stone wall that bordered it between them and their prey. With no line of sight and the crowd making noise the Howlers would be right on top of the rasierhunds before they could react.

But as they turned the corner Arnold stopped in confusion, his weapon still at the ready. The drone said their targets should be right in front of him but the graveyard was completely empty. Had the rasierhunds spoofed their location? Was the drone compromised? How had they even known it was there?

The Howlers searched using their eyes and wetware but the graveyard was empty. Nothing living moved.

Arnold blinked in surprise as he felt his connection with the drone snap, followed shortly afterward by an incredibly nasty sensation of being alone as his bond with the rest of the Howlers dissolved.

Then there was another presence, thick and heavy it filled his mind, dripping into the cracks of his wetware like cold black oil.

He felt his mouth move. "We spiked the drone while it was parked on the roof." An unfamiliar voice said through Arnold's lips. "Then all we had to do was wait for you to connect."

His team all stood stock still, frozen in place around him, their expressions locked in grim determination. He looked back, trying to find an escape route, but the gate they had entered though was closed and barred.

Arnold ran towards it anyway, thinking it had to be an illusion. But no, he collided with the rusty iron bars and fell back onto his ass. It was real.

"What a shame." His mouth said. "The battle was over before it began. I weep for my motherland if you are the best soldier she can produce."

Arnold searched frantically for the hacker, he had to be close. Then he saw him, a figure standing among the gravestones, an old Döbian in a long black coat. He wore his ears cropped high and he had the unmistakable bearing of a soldier. Arnold reached for his weapon but it was gone. When had they disarmed him?

"Ah yes." His mouth said. "It seems that time has gotten away from you. How embarrassing."

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

How long had he been out? Arnold looked up at the sky and realized that the sun was setting over the graveyard. It would be dark soon and the angry mob had long since departed.

Arnold approached the figure cautiously, it made no attempt to stop him. But it did light up a cigarette from an antique silver lighter. The old hund breathed the smoke in deeply before exhaling through its nostrils.

"So, this is the best my sister Edel has to offer." He said in the flowing tones of old pre-war Döbian. "I will admit I'm disappointed. One would think that in the last few decades they would have made improvements, but instead you cling to scraps of old archaic technology."

"Who are you?" Arnold demanded.

"I'm nobody and I am everybody." The old hund said with a dry chuckle. "I am alpha and omega. The beginning and the end. Lock and key."

The leader racked his brain. The old hund had said something about his sister, about Edelweiss. "Are you… a Braverhund?" He asked.

"I'd like to think so." The old hund replied, laughing at his own private joke. "It's a shame that my sister didn't warn you about me. Then again, we barely speak these days. Perhaps she has forgotten about me."

Arnold looked around. The rest of his group were gone as if they had never existed and the graveyard was getting truly dark now. Shadows lengthened from the gravestones like clawing fingers and his breath hung in the chill night air.

"I'm going to offer you a choice." The old hund said amicably. "I normally don't ask first but I'm feeling generous. You can walk out of this graveyard alive, but changed. Or I can bury you and your team in these graves while you're all still breathing."

Arnold looked down at the open grave at his feet. Where had that come from? Then he saw the shovel in his hand. He had dug his own grave and he hadn't even noticed. He wasn't alone anymore either.

His whole team stood next to freshly dug graves. Was this some kind of nightmare or simulation? No, this was far too real for that. You couldn't make a simulation feel like this.

"It's up to you. A horrible death, made worse by your augmentations which will keep you alive for much longer than the average hund. Days, perhaps even weeks of agony. But of course by the time the madness sets in you'll be begging for death. So, what will it be?"

Arnold looked down at the hungry grave at his feet. Did he really have a choice?

"No." Said his mouth. "I'm setting you up to choose the easy way out. There is no real choice. Just an illusion of one."

Arnold looked over at his team. They all stood still, ready to jump into the open graves. Could he really damn them to be buried alive?

"Fine." He said. "I'll go with the first option."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than he felt an incredible weight pressing down on his mind. Words in Döbian echoed in his head, though he couldn't seem to remember them.

Arnold could feel his mind stretching and breaking as the old hund worked. "What are you doing?" Arnold whimpered as he felt his sense of self fading.

He could barely remember his own name now. But he had to hold onto it somehow, had to preserve a piece of himself. But it was all slipping away now, like sand between his fingers.

"I'm making you better." The old hund whispered in his mind. "I'm making all of you better. It used to take days but now I can work so much faster."

Arnold gritted his teeth and fought back, clinging to what made him who he was. He remembered his grandfather, the proud old soldier. He remembered the lake where he had drank beers with his father. He remembered his mother and his sister with their buckwheat blond fur.

No, this hungry phantom would not have those memories. He thought of his wife, Ani. The woman he had loved for decades, the children and grandchildren they had raised. Their little human foster child, Eden whom he cared for as his own.

Arnold remembered Döbi, before the war, how proud he had been in his jagdkommando uniform. No, this phantom would not have these memories. It would not have them!

The young Döbian forced his mouth to speak, breaking the spell that held him. "I am a true son of Döbi. My heart beats with the blood of the wolf. I am a warhund, a jagdkommando, and you will not have me!"

The old hund stepped forward. "What is your name?" He asked.

"I am Kerner Braverhund, son of Gershwin Braverhund!" Arnold screamed defiantly. "And I will never let you take that from me!" He lunged for the old hund.

Then just like that he was free. The illusion melted away and Arnold found himself back in the apartment with his team, he looked around in confusion. His internal clock told him that only a few minutes had passed since he connected to the drone.

Arnold's heart was pounding in his chest. It had all felt so real. He shuddered as he thought about how close he had come to losing himself to that monster in the graveyard. But no, he had kept his mind intact.

The other howlers looked at him, terror on their faces. They must have seen it too, he realized. Arnold gestured to Richard to come over to a corner where they could talk in private.

"What the fuck was that?" Richard whispered. "I could feel him in my head, trying to take me over. If I hadn't held onto my memories of my pups he would have had me."

"I know. It was like he was pulling me apart. Stealing my memories." Arnold looked over his shoulder. "Do you think the others are alright?"

"Only one way to be sure." Richard turned and faced the other dozen Howlers. "Team, lineup and sound off."

The motley assortment of Möhin and Döbians got into a rough formation and saluted. Making noise probably wasn't smart but they had to sort this out right fucking now. The first Howler called out his name. "Kerner Braverhund, reporting for duty, sir."

Richard stopped the second one before he could speak and turned back to Arnold. "This is bad." He whispered. "Fucking hacker scrambled his brains so hard that he thinks he's me."

Arnold swallowed, feeling a strange cold sensation in the back of his mind like icicles dripping onto his brain. He knew what was happening now, and he had to ask, but he didn't want to. "What's my name?" Arnold asked.

"It's Arnold Temple." Richard stopped, also catching on. "Why, what do you think it is?"

Arnold reached into his pocket for a cigarette and a lighter, then grumbled in annoyance when they weren't in their customary pocket. "He got us all." Arnold said. "The fucker got every single one of us. Watch."

Arnold walked into the center of the room. "Kerner Braverhund, please raise your right hand."

As one the howlers all raised their right hand, then looked at each other in confusion. The veterans checked the names on the ID tags that hung around their necks.

Arnold did the same and sighed. He was a copy too. Another copy of Kerner Braverhund. But strangely enough, he didn't seem to mind. It felt right somehow.

Gershwin had planned for this eventuality and hard coded a belief into everyone the software overwrote that copies were just as real as the original. It was the only way to prevent the psychotic breaks he had seen in test subjects.

Arnold could remember Gershwin explaining to the original Kerner how it all worked. Gershwin had wanted to preserve his son at all costs and he had given Kerner the ability to copy himself onto other warhunds if he needed to.

Richard looked at Arnold with confusion. "I know I'm a copy but… I don't care. And all of you feel like brothers or something. I can't describe it."

"Yeah, I feel the same way." Arnold smiled. "That's what we are, brothers."

The howlers all milled around, embracing their new family. Arnold could remember his old life very clearly now, but it was as if it had happened to someone else. There was no emotional attachment to any of it. Besides, this was so much better.

A radio chirped as Edelweiss called in for an update. Arnold wanted to tell her the good news but decided that it was probably a bad idea.

"We lost them." Arnold lied. "They used some kind of hack to spoof their position."

"Fucking brujas." Edelweiss swore. "Keep me updated."

"Of course." Arnold said, smiling into the microphone. It was good to hear his sister's voice. "We'll keep searching."

"See that you do." Edelweiss said sternly as she cut the connection.

"Wow, our sister is not happy." Richard laughed. "Come on, let's get all our gear together and head out. I could use some smoke and a beer."

"Ja, I was just thinking the same thing." Arnold looked down at his hands. They were so young and strong. He could do a lot with these hands. They weren't old and arthritic anymore.

Arnold felt a sense of peace wash over him. Everything was going according to plan. Soon Simon and Nemeria would be brought to see Eden and then… well… what would be would be.

One of his brothers handed Arnold a lit cigarette. "Danke." He said as he took the first puff and drew the sweet tobacco into his new lungs. Yes, everything was going exactly according to plan.