DAA da DEE, DAA da DEE, daa daa da-de-da DEE DAAAA...

Not even Nazis get good elevator music, Envoy thought glumly, trying to ignore the tinny patriotic waltz droning through the speakers. He didn't bother to wipe the pained look off his face. He was pretty sure most of the elevator's occupants would have felt the same way. If anything, the grimace added to his believability. Of course, the uniform helped more.

He wasn't thrilled about the outfit. It didn't fit him badly; the first guard's clothes had been too big, but they'd taken down enough Nazis that he now cut a relatively smooth figure in his borrowed uniform. There was a time when wearing it would have slipped him into playacting, Maxim Isayev against the forces of evil, but the situation now was all too real for childhood games. And the swastika on his arm made his skin crawl every time he caught his reflection in the elevator's shiny interior. He didn't like how convincing he looked.

DAA da DEE, DAA da DEE, daa da da-de-da DAA DAAAA...

Strange, too, to see only himself in the reflective metal. Usually he was the one hidden safely from sight, leaving the walking target duty to Tensile and Steel Violet, who could take hit after hit without even being winded. But none of them could pass for Nazis – well, maybe Marlene, he thought, but thanks to Doc Otaku and Charlotta, she wasn't exactly low-profile. So they were all hidden now, which was vaguely creepy and unsettling; he'd gotten used to being able to detect them when they were nearby. With Onyx blocking his ability to detect super-powers, it really felt like he was alone – he had only their word that they were even in the elevator with him.

DEE da-de DAA de-da DEEE daa DEEEE...

He yawned and immediately stifled it. The waltz was putting him to sleep. Not that that would take much. God, he was tired. He'd finally gotten a good eight hours of sleep in, but that still left him several days behind – three? four? He'd lost count.

DEE da DEEE de DAAA DAAA...

"Anyone know what day it is?" He tried to keep the exhaustion out of his voice. Everyone else was just as worn out; they didn't need a reminder from him.

Onyx's voice popped up. "It's your birthday."

DAA da DEE, DAA da DEE...

Birthday? "You gotta be kidding me, right?" He did the math as the elevator slowed to a stop. She was right.

DEE da da-da de DAA DAA...

"Holy shit, I'm 18."

He composed himself quickly as the elevator doors slid open, and found himself staring into some sort of subterranean throne room. Three dozen Nazis stared back at him, rifles raised and aimed. Behind them, the Iron Cross sat broodingly on a large chair on a raised dais. As Envoy stepped forward, the supervillain looked up.

"You are very good, but you are not good enough to escape the notice of a true neo-Aryan." The Iron Cross stood up and pointed directly at him. "Schießen Sie ihn!"

Three dozen safeties clicked off in unison as the rifles they belonged to locked position on Envoy.

Well, he thought, tensing his muscles and trying to figure out which way to dodge. Happy birthday to me.

DEE da da-da de DAA DAA.

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