“It’s totally your turn.”

“No way, Orion. I do it every year.”

“That’s not true. I did it last year.”

“Actually, I distinctly remember Rami doing it last year.”

“Right, and as an extension of me, Rami—”

“Wait a moment,” Rami interjected. “I’m not an extension of you. I’m my own person.”

“Okay, that’s a bad choice of phrase, and I’m sorry. As my partner, Rami’s turn counts as mine. It’s not my fault you don’t have someone who can do it for you this year.”

“This is cruel and unusual,” Sam said, sitting down in front of the Christmas tree, where presents sat wrapped and ready to be opened. “I have the most here, and you’re making me hand them out.”

“Alright, kids,” their dad said, entering the living room. “No more arguing. I’ll do it.”

Nobody seemed to upset over his choice, and each took spots on different pieces of furniture. One by one, he grabbed boxes and set them next to each respective person. Sure enough, Sam ended up with a much larger set of boxes, but that had always been the case for as long as Orion could remember.

“You know what I’m really looking forward to?” Orion asked, as he received one of the last few in his stack.

“Don’t say it,” Sam said.

“Volunteering tomorrow.”

“Every time you say it, and every time you just sound like a suck-up.”

“Come on, Sam. It’s the best part. Who needs these presents when you could just go help a bunch of people in a soup kitchen?”

“Well, in that case,” his dad said, grabbing the top box back off of his stack.

“Wait a second, hold on.”

“That’s what I thought.” He replaced the item.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, but never have,” Rami started. “Is there a reason you volunteer on Christmas Day?”

All eyes fell on their dad, who smiled softly. “That was the day their mother died. Keeps the mind busy and the heart full.”

“Sorry for asking.”

“No. Don’t be. Had to find out somehow. Alright, now we all know how this goes: oldest child first.”

“That’s so not true,” Sam said.

“What do you mean? It’s been a rule for years and years.”

“Liar.”

“Alright, fine. Youngest first. Go for it, Sam.”

As she ripped at her first present, the house rumbled, and the jingling of dishes in the cupboards and ornaments on the tree interrupted the process. Orion stood up slowly, eyes wide, and looked over at the Clockwork, who had been sitting quietly next to Sam, his own little pile of presents in front of him. Then, without a word, Orion grabbed a jacket, and they both exited through the front door, which was specifically designed to prevent damage from an inhumanly tall brass beast.

Orion’s first thought was that this was another earthquake. He’d had recurring nightmares every now and again about the one that had rocked the town square over two years ago during their confrontation with Syndra, but since then, nothing similar had happened.

Until now. He hopped up onto the Clockwork, who took off, his fake antlers and Christmas-colored scarf flying off.

It was a five-minute flight to the town square, and they landed down in the center. A group of people were all looking around, also shocked by the quake, but nobody knew what had happened.

Then Orion got a call on his watch.

“Hey,” he answered. “What’s going on?”

“Bad news,” the Gearmaster’s tired voice replied. “Looks like whatever device you set up in the shop to detect incoming fleets is going off. Coming from the Atlantic Ocean, headed toward the capitol.”

“Any reading on who it is?”

“An educated guess based on what the radio is telling me is Nazis.”

The line went silent.

It was happening. The Nazis were finally invading Carmsborough.

Orion hadn’t been fully caught up on history, or even current events, but there was one thing he had stayed in-the-know about: that fascist group from the 1940s. The only way they’d managed to not get totally wiped off the map in 1945 was by turning to airships and cowering in the air under a shaky ceasefire, but everyone knew it was only a matter of time before they would come back.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

And on Christmas Eve, no less. No rest for the wicked.

“Are you ready?” the Gearmaster asked.

“I don’t think I have much of a choice,” Orion answered, looking off into the distance. He could make out the figure of four of the Nazi airships approaching. There was no wondering why they thought they needed four just to take on a country as small as Carmsborough. “Tell the president to get cleared out of here, and that we’ve got it handled.”

Orion reached into the Clockwork’s storage compartment and pulled out a pair of goggles, before putting them on and hopping onto his back again. “Everyone, the Nazis are coming. Please get inside and get to a safe place. We will handle this.”

They took off once more, jetting straight towards the four fascist flying figures. As soon as Orion confirmed their worry, spotting an enormous banner sporting their infamous signal, his brain clicked into action.

Without hesitation, the Clockwork crashed through the hull of one of the ships in the front, and swatted at every single person inside, sending them into and out of the sides of the ship. A particularly upset man came back for seconds, trying to take a stab at Orion, who jumped off, landed behind the man, and revealed an extending baton from his wrist. He grabbed it and swung at the man’s head, knocking him unconscious in one swing.

Alarms blared, and so they knew to make it quick. Orion jumped back onto the Clockwork, and together they crashed through another few rooms and floors until eventually finding the engine room. With a few seconds of charge time, a plasma bolt soared out of the Clockwork’s hand and into the machine. It glowed a bright red, and the two of them broke through the ceiling, and then another, and another, until they were back out in the open air.

But they weren’t done, piercing the balloon of the ship in the bottom and top, and as soon as they were out, Orion lit a match and dropped it.

The balloon erupted completely in flames at the same time as the hull exploded from the inside, completely decimating the first of four ships.

“Now that we know where the engines are in these things, what say we make this quick?” Orion said, tapping the Clockwork on the shoulder.

Once again, the Clockwork revved up his plasma cannon, lined himself up with two of the three remaining ships, and fired. The bolt went through one ship, lighting a fire and imploding the engine, and into the other ship, which simply exploded like their first victim. The fourth ship, not keen to going down, finally flipped on an airship shield.

Orion laughed. “Pull out the bunker buster.”

A section of the Clockwork’s right shoulder extended outward, revealing some sort of missile weapon. It soared towards the enemy ship, and unlike any other type of attack, latched onto the shield. Then, after a few seconds, the purple hue was replaced with jagged electricity crackling along the whole outside of the hull, before concentrating on the metal exterior parts, more notably the weapons. Anyone who had been touching them at the time had likely fried.

In one last dramatic show, the Clockwork loaded his plasma beam one last time, and connected with the ship’s engine. It, too, exploded, and the burning wreckage of all four ships came down onto the houses and buildings below, doing almost no damage, as most of Carmsborough’s infrastructure was concrete, stone, or cobblestone.

Still, the two of them came back down to the ground, where they were met with cheers. “Job’s not done yet. Time to start cleanup.”

-◦=[ ]=◦-

They spent the next hour helping the fire department get people out of the debris and rubble, cleaning up the remaining bodies of the Nazis aboard the ships, and preventing any fire spread from the smoldering remains. When they were nearly done, his watch buzzed again.

“Hey, Orion,” Rami’s voice said. “Everything alright? You’ve been gone for a while now.”

“If you qualify destroying a fleet of Nazi ships as alright, then yes. We are so alright right now.”

“Nazi ships?”

“Sounds like the World War III has begun. Probably the Steam War again, too.”

“Great. Awesome. Are you okay?”

“More than okay. Just cleaning up, and will head back home.”

Another buzz.

“Hey, Gearmaster’s calling. Be back soon.”

“Alright. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

He switched over to the Gearmaster. “What’s up?”

“Blood Moon Island. Sounds like there was a Nazi ship there.”

“Blood Moon Island? Is there even anything at Blood Moon Island?”

“As far as we can tell, a few quarries, but that’s it.”

“There has to have been a reason.”

He called Rami back. “I lied. Have to go south to deal with more Nazis. I’ll keep you updated.”

“Okay. Please be safe.”

“Yep.”

-◦=[ ]=◦-

It was a long trip to Blood Moon Island from the Housing District, but eventually, he arrived at the scene. There wasn’t a single ship left standing among the debris, but as they got close, he could see the wreckage of at least two, as well as lines of bodies spanning a significant length of the island.

They landed down in front of one of the lines, and he looked around for any sign of life. When nobody came out to see him, he approached the group. All of them were wearing some sort of themed garb: plain worker garb for the vast majority, yellow suits for a few, some guard suits, Nazi outfits for those losers, and so on. The one that drew his attention the most, however, was a small group of dead men with white suits. On these suits was an emblazoned S.

Syndra. He was back.

They did a quick loop around the island to see if he could figure anything else out, but he had nothing. There wasn’t even a company name on the buildings. Something strange was going on here. After all, why would there be guards, Syndra suits, and Nazis all on the same quarry island?

He checked his watch and realized it was getting way too late for any more quality sleuthing. He’d have to figure it out in between sleeping and crushing any new Nazi offenses that hit the city. They started the trip back to their house, and a few hours later, landed just outside the door in the designated landing pad.

When he walked in, the only one to greet him was Rami, who had a mug of hot chocolate in his hands. “I made this for you. It’s not very warm anymore, but you could always microwave it.”

“Thanks,” he said, doing exactly that.

“So… Nazis.”

“Yeah. They’re here. Four ships for the capitol, one or two down on Blood Moon Island. Not even sure why. There was nothing there. There was nothing there.”

“Repeating it twice doesn’t make it seem very convincing.”

He looked over at Rami. “Syndra’s back. Or, at least, his men are. We need to check in with the prison to make sure he’s actually still locked up. Maybe they’re acting of their own volition, but either way, I have to know.”

“Maybe it’s time to get some sleep.”

“Yeah.” He leaned up against the Clockwork. “Come get me if there’s anything else that happens tonight. Don’t you dare go out by yourself.”

The Clockwork whirred and sat down in his usual spot in the living room. Then Rami and Orion went to bed, but only one of them got any sleep.