[ WP ] You are Alois Hitler , spending your days trying to protect your son from strange future people who are after your son Adolf 's life .

*Yes I know there's typical time travel plot holes give me a break* 
 ______________________ 
 
 The mild blue flash always attracted the same awestruck attention. The process had become almost routine. Two men, jaunt and dressed in rags approached the light. Sometimes they attacked on sight. Sometimes they stood there, dumbfounded. Sometimes, they would drop to their knees and worship me as I appeared, a human like them but clearly not belonging to their world. 
 
 The end result was always the same, however. A click from my Incapacitator and they dropped where they stood, immobile but still alive. For what it's worth, anyway. One of them had already developed a cancerous swelling and was not long for this world. The other looked barely a man grown. Perhaps he could brave this living nightmare a while longer. Perhaps killing him would be a mercy. Perhaps. I've learned that disturbing timelines that do n't belong to you is not a good idea. After all, that's how I've got into this mess to begin with. 
 
 The immediate vicinity from the dropzone was much the same as the others. A cold, barren wasteland. A land that was utterly infertile, buildings that were collapsed and uninhabited. What human life that remained had regressed to stone-age technology, scavengers that barely wielded the technology they once created while barely maintaining their sanity and health in an environment borne of what their scientists call'fallout'. I wonder briefly who loosed the nukes this time. The Comrade? The President? The Emporer? 
 
 I trekked the wastes for several hours. The natives were afraid of me, as always, but there was little they could do. But I did not come across any records. Nothing was written down. Nothing useful, anyway. While some details of the Story varied, the gist of it was always the same. The Comrades of the east and the Presidents of the west were engaged in a bloody land-grab that lasted for decades. Their power was evenly matched and neither would settle for anything but absolute dominance over the European continent. Eventually, one of them invented nuclear weapons and unleashed them with impudence. The other side stole the design and responded in kind. The result was annihilation. Of both sides. Of countless countless timelines, there had never been a winner of the Nuclear War. 
 
 I sighed and shook my head. There were no answers in this timeline. 
 
 I unbuckle the Device from my hip and set it for my return journey. I carefully copy the exact time I've written down on paper. Missing the connection by one second would already put my son's life in jeopardy. 
 
 As I try to overcome the vertigo of impending time-travel I wonder briefly how I am still alive. The weapons that these mysterious, eldritch assassins brought with them are so mind-bogglingly powerful that I reasonably would n't have stood a chance to defeat them. Could it be that God truly was looking out for me? Looking out for little Adolf so that he could once fulfil the job that he was chosen to do? Or was I simply being unknowingly aided by those timelines that would undo the evil caused by the first. 
 
 Home was a welcome sight. Breathing heavily, I went inside and sat down at my book to document my latest excursion. The parameters of the timeline and the end result: `` Mutual Assured Destruction''. Just like all the others. My head collapsed into my arms onto the table and I wanted to cry for humanity. 
 
 Somehow, I had pieced together, my son's destiny was to avert this disaster. But I still did not know why. Nor did I know, if Adolf was meant to save humanity, why humanity would want him dead. If only I could travel within the 20th century. If only I could visit futures in which my son was still alive. 
 
 Staring the Device into performing what I wanted it to do was of little use. I'd gathered from one of the assassins that had survived our initial confrontation that it's functionality was purposely restricted. To prevent meddling with the wrong pasts, I am sure. Or to prevent me from coming after the bastards. I was n't entirely sure. The language the assassins spoke was like no other, and they were not too keen on providing answers. 
 
 I got up and collected myself. I would figure it out. And if not, I would just have to spend my life protecting my son from all those that would harm him. He is meant for greatness, and I will not let anyone, present or future, take that from him. 
 
 Perhaps one more trip before bed...
