You wouldn’t even have known it had known it has snowed at all. The ashes of Auschwitz overwhelmed the humble streets of war torn brick. From Nuremberg to Berlin the despondent impression in the atmosphere was so broad the crows in the charcoal sky fell like rain drops, spiraling into the abyss that was 1944. The once great metropolitan area had decayed after the eyes of strife had enveloped the dismal region. Afflicted by the oblivion of a naïve Reich, now the obscurity of their conduct leaves behind a legacy to grievous for even the most infernal. Curious to what lies ahead on this transit road, what future awaits the thousands still breathing in shackles. In the wake of 1945 the snow is visible once more.