Hitler had been cowering under his desk for the past few hours. Although Fall Weiss was proceeding ahead as planned, that obviously was not the problem. What did trouble him was reports of some sort of machine on a seemingly inexorable warpath across Germany. Reports stated it first emerged from the waters around Warnemunde, scaled the shore -- 

"They say it resembled a Type VII, but Type VIIs don't do that! They can't!" Hitler shouted to no one in particular, smashing his fists against the fine rug that covered the floor.

Once it had made its way onto land, it had begun its massacre. It was outfitted with some sort of super-weapon that rendered all opposition thrown in its path absolutely ineffectual. Further counterattacks and defenses had been declared futile. The defenders of Germany had only one order now: Run. The losses could not be allowed to reach any greater heights than their present staggering totals. But the machine, unstoppable as it was, kept coming, leaving ruin and slaughter in its path. It was heading directly south - to Berlin.

Hitler was started up into the underside of his desk as an ear-splitting crash echoed through the room. As he rubbed his head, he crawled out from underneath his desk. When he glanced up he saw the source of this commotion.

He saw the underside of the nose of a Type VII lingering in the air above him. He glanced down to see it was suspended upon a set of six robotic legs. A mechanical tentacle shot out of one of its ports and wrapped around Hitler, yanking him into the air.

As Hitler was raised upwards, he witnessed not only the state of complete, roofless, wall-less destruction his office had been left in, but Dr. Rolf Finkle, who was pointing the barrel of some weapon he could not recognize right at him. 

"Mr. Schicklgruber, we at last meet again. It has been a long time since you sold your body to me during your poverty-addled years on the streets of Vienna. Do not fret, I am not here to satiate any carnal lusts, and not here to spear my purebred bratwurst into your mongrel half-Jew derriere." Dr. Rolf Finkle said through his teeth gritted into a broad, madman's grin.

"P-put me down! Right now! I am the Fuhrer!" Hitler demanded. When Rolf did not budge, he launched into pleading instead. He offered Rolf wealth, power, sexual favours, coupons. Rolf simply shook his head.

"You are actively denying the world the one thing I would want from you: a future for the Aryan race. I perceive a better world, and it is a world that must be built upon your grave." Rolf squeezed the trigger-pedals of the hyper-maser. As the barrel glowed with eldritch power, he gave Hitler a brief salute. "Auf wiedersehn." He uttered.

In a flash, the mad dictator was gone. With Hitler reduced to nothingness, Dr. Rolf Finkle stepped out from behind the gun and scaled the conning tower of the u-boat. He placed his gloved hands upon his hips as he gazed out across the ruins of Berlin, regarding his handiwork with glee. "HEIL ROLF FINKLE," He cried triumphantly, [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1GJrHZvDh_E]"HEIL TO ME!"[/URL]