“Auschwitz, just leave the records and come on!” Birkenau shouted at her twin brother, who was currently trying to figure out which record to take and which to leave behind. “You already remember everything, don't you?”

“I need to be able to visualize it, hold it in my hands,” Auschwitz snapped, straightening and readjusting his square glasses. “Conjuring things from memory isn't as easy as you think when it comes to data!”

Birkenau looked out the window of the cramped office, the stacks upon stacks of filing cabinets and folders partially blocking her view of the Soviet communists ‘liberating’ the camp.

“Auschwitz, die Kommunisten kommen! Lasst die Akten liegen und läuft!” Birkenau panicked, grabbing the back of her brother's lab coat collar and yanking him away from the stacks of files labeled Adrenalin-Augen-Erlebnisse.

“Don't fucking touch me!” Auschwitz snapped, whirring around and slapping Birkenau's hand. “I don't care that die Kommunisten are coming. I need-”

“All you need is your life! And I'm leaving to keep mine!” Birkenau snapped. “We could have continued our research at a facility in the Black Forest!”

Auschwitz stopped skimming through the files he had designated to hold close, and looked up at Birkenau's retreating form. “What did you say?”

Birkenau let out a hiss through her clenched shark-like fangs, before turning around and saying: “We could have continued our research at a facility in the Black Forest. What is so special about that?”

Auschwitz glanced out the obscured window, where the Soviets were clearly horrified at the conditions of the prisoners. “Let's go.”

Auschwitz bolted out of the office, grabbing Birkenau's wrist in a death grip and kicking the door open without a care in the world. They would get out of this alive, or so help them.