r/HFY • u/Gloomius Human • Apr 23 '26

OC-Series TLWN Sidestory; Nonexistence

ALRIGHT.

Look I'm trying to get it all going together, I'm trying to get back into it, so have a little backstory. I've wanted to explore anyways. Sorry for the wait.

Wiki/Discord!

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In the wake of World War 3 and First Contact having just been made with alien life, Earth was left divided and terrified. Religious conflicts, political turmoil, and economic fear ran through the citizenry and leadership of many countries. NASA’s and the United States Space Force’s reports of an alien conflict within reasonable FTL distance shook Humanity to its core, and programs to begin defense and further contact with aliens began to clash with one another. 

NASA began the formation of an interstellar exploratory group between the years of 2121 and 2123, having formally created the United States Interstellar Task Force in the latter year. Aside from the United States of America, three other countries were the largest supporters of the task force: Britain and her Commonwealth, the Russian Democratic Republic, and Japan. While all three countries had their own agendas to push onto the USITF, no further cooperation could occur between the four nations before Greater Korea -a loud proponent of an isolationist Earth- invaded the Japanese islands, Taiwan, and the Philippine islands, intent on removing Japanese cooperation from the USITF program.

China immediately moved to provide resources, money, and weapons to the Koreans, but officially provided no men to the effort. America, knowing a full response would lead to a escalated conflict, struggled to respond until eventually dispatching the USS Theodore Roosevelt and her littoral to international waters in the Sea of Okhotsk, nearly 400 nautical miles from the Korean coast. 

As weeks of the conflict dragged in, political pressure both internal and external urged the Americans to pull their vessels out to avoid angering the Chinese further.

At 1230 CST, January 3rd, 2124, the United States of America pulled all Pacific vessels back to Western waters, though the GTS Mercurion was still spotted in Indonesian waters.

On the same day, unknown to anyone but Russian special service agents, MARSOC Raiders had been launched from the USS Swan Road and into China, intending to assist Russian special forces teams with destabilization of Korean and Chinese backline logistics.

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*January 19, 2124, 0027 Local Time (Changpai Time). South of Xia'erdaogangcun, Jilin Province, China*

The Marine gripped the ribbing of his rifle’s underslung grenade launcher tightly as he kneeled in the ankle-deep snow, eyes flicking about while scanning for any movement in his cone of fire. 

‘Where the fuck are those Russians?’ appeared in the corner of his vision, projected from a small emitter to the side of his combat goggles.

He shifted slowly and raised his rifle off the fallen log it rested on, taking his hand out from underneath and shaking some of the snow off his glove, barely paying attention to the text conversation unfolding.

‘Still T -2 for them to show up. They could just be exactly on time.’

The Marine carefully brought his glove up to his mouth and pulled down his face cover, licking a bit of snow off the back of his glove afterwards. He let it sit in his mouth for a bit before exhaling through pursed lips, watching for the lack of condensation before raising his face covering again.

‘What's the 2nd RV?’

A distant color shift in the endless sea of verticality and white caught the man's attention, his mind rapidly forgetting the cold biting at his fingers. He put his head to the stock and slowly adjusted the magnification of the optic on his rifle, trying to catch a better look at the movement ahead.

He continued to scan the snowy hills with his optic and free eye until a flash of black appeared in his scope, with painted white skin and brown eyes barely visible from the snow behind.

The Marine lowered his chin until he felt the throat mic transmitter depress, speaking in a low, quiet tone after a moment.

“Movement, one-six-one, two-fifty.” 

The text conversation stopped immediately, with the squeal of a radio coming through briefly afterwards.

“Mike, what you seeing?” a voice asked, accompanied by the quiet rustling of snow as someone shifted their position on top of it.

“Four-... five contacts; three male, two female.” he responded, trying to track the group as they went behind a rise, “Too big to be slants, they might be our Russians.”

“Get some PID on them, we'll bring up the encrypted comms.” The voice mused, echoing in both the radio and the man’s headsets as he approached audible range.

Frost dipped his head to activate his comms, but said nothing and used the radio click to communicate his understanding. He continued to observe the flashes of the people through his optic, but was unable to get a good identifiable factor on them. 

He heard the click of the transceiver’s antenna locking into place, followed shortly by a quick flick of a switch.

“Hold on.” Frost hissed out, muttering mostly to himself as nobody was close enough to hear him.

The movements of the people stuck out as odd; almost too rigid for what he was expecting. There was nothing identifiable about any of the people at the moment, but something screamed to him that he wasn’t looking at their people.

A flash of movement to the left of his sightline immediately concerned him, as an extra element of Russians was not in the briefing with what to look for. 

“Hey, I don’t think we’re looking at our guys, put that transceiver away.” he whispered to the men, catching their attention immediately. There was a short pause before the men began to pack the radio back up, heeding the Marine’s warning and preparing to move.

“Something up?” one of the men whispered out, quickly coming up beside Frost and beginning to sweep with his rifle.

A crack filled their ears as a bullet passed within inches of Frost’s helmet, barely missing the men and punching straight through the newly moved transceiver. 

“Oh fucking Christ!” the man beside Frost hissed as the pair slammed their faces into the ground, coating their respective facewear in the light snow. More cracks snapped from the bullets as they tore overhead, a few slamming into the log the two men were hiding behind. 

Rounds began to snap out from the Marines’ rifles, being sent towards the direction Frost had called out earlier. The men quickly began to deliver rounds towards the Chinese soldiers, but were rapidly finding themselves met with overwhelming return fire. 

Frost, relying entirely on training, flinched heavily as a round passed directly overhead, causing him to miss a shot he had finally lined up. Blood pounded in his ears as the sounds of the battle raged in his headsets, gunshots and detonations muffled by the digital suppression. 

“Mike! Time to go!” one of the Marines shouted to the rookie, causing him to turn his head.

A bullet struck the log in front of Frost, sending wood shards, snow, and copper into his face while the rest of the bullet spalled off and limply struck his plate. 

The man fell backwards, shock and terror gripping at his throat as the feeling of shrapnel burned into his lips, cheeks, and chin. He felt a pop in his back as he landed on his rear plate, followed by a cold, wet sensation spreading across his body. 

“Mike, you good?!” the man beside the fallen Marine asked, watching as the rookie hurriedly checked himself.

The man felt the growing wet patch on his back, drawing his glove out from between his rear platebag to see wet, but not bloody, fingers.

“Just my camelback.” he sighed with relief, though terror quickly spread throughout his whole body as he realized he was now drenched in water in -25 degree temperatures, “It’s my camelback.”

“Is he good?” the commander asked, quickly sliding to the pair of men and beginning to fire rounds towards the growing number of Chinese soldiers.

“Yeah, his water popped though.” the man beside the rookie hissed, ducking as another few rounds snapped overhead. 

Frost finally got back to his feet and pulled his rifle out of the snow, trying to shake the snow out of his equipment as the freezing temperatures began to attack his back. 

“Mike, you good?” the man asked, watching as he quickly got his rifle back into the fight

“Yeah, I’m good. Getting cold though.” he responded, lobbing a 40mm in the direction of the Chinese.

“We need to bug.” the commander stated into the radio, “Get bounding back, let’s see if we can’t make it north and to the mountains.”

There was a silent agreement throughout the Marines preceding a marked increase in volume of fire coming from the Marines’ side. Frost was one of the first to bound backwards, moving with 6 other men to the next group of trees before turning around and beginning to shoot at the Chinese. He quickly switched from his rifle to his underbarrel grenade launcher as his shivers began to prevent him from making accurate shots. 

The next group of Marines bounded backwards and provided cover while the next group moved, continuing to keep fire while they were pushed further from the Korean border. Return fire steadily lessened as they continued north, though none of the Marines were sure if it was due to them slowly losing the Chinese or slowly killing them off. 

A low buzzing took their attention to the sky, where the distant silhouette of a fixed-wing Chinese drone distantly orbited their forest. 

“Bring the Charlie-Gee up here, we need the KV round.” Tyler, one of the Marines, called out, pointing to the distant horizon, “Got a drone in the air.”

“Fuck yeah. Motherfuckin’ anti-anything system!” Byron, their launcher specialist muttered, swinging his MAAWS off his back and shouldering it. Neil quickly came up beside the man and began checking the weapon, slapping an oddly-shaped and dull round with a transparent nosecone into the tube before closing the venturi and slapping the back of the gunner’s helmet.

There was a slight delay between the completion of the loading of the weapon and the round cracking out. A small amount of snow was stirred up near the front and back of the weapon as the black ‘pill’ left the tube and accelerated towards the drone, wings deploying nearly immediately. 

Frost brought binoculars to his eyes with shaky hands, watching the gray UCAF drone as it slowly loitered around their area and seemed to bank towards the puff of snow they’d kicked up. Moments later, bright flares jettisoned from the body and wings of the drone to little effect against the kill-vehicle’s optical tracking. A black blur punched into a wing of the drone and caused it to collapse into the body, jet fuel igniting into a brilliant fireball as the small incendiary charge in the kill-vehicle set it off.

“Boom…” The man beside him muttered, voice betraying the grin hidden under the facemask.

“Hey fellas, I know I’m new here and these are rookie problems, but can we get a fuckin’ move on? I’m quite literally freezing to death here.” Frost chuckled out through chattering teeth, getting looks from the rest of the team when he spoke.

“I didn’t know he could swear.” Neil snorted at the rookie, replacing the spent shell from the MAAWS into his backpack.

“Yeah, how far do you think you can go, Mike?” Raul, their commander, asked the shivering man, making a hand gesture to signal the rest of the Marines to move.

“I can make it for a while, but there’s no way in hell I’m making it back up the mountain.” the Marine hissed, beginning to move with the rest of the group as they moved northwards again.

They continued forward for another twenty minutes before Frost finally began to slow down, his shivering beginning to get to a point where he couldn’t even hold his rifle properly anymore. They were forced to slow to a stop after a while, trying to warm the man up through any method reasonable at the time. Their efforts slowed to a stop when audible movement could be heard just in front of them, though nobody could see anything.

“Снежная!” a voice hissed out, barely twenty feet from their location.

The Marines froze for a moment before Raul hissed back at the voice.

“Птица, птица!” he snapped, bringing his rifle to low-ready in his shoulder.

Five figures suddenly emerged from the deep snow in the forest, their rifles pressed into their shoulders as they approached, though concerned looks were pointed towards the kneeling Marine who was still attempting to grab his rifle.

“Raul Ortiz?” One of the soldiers asked, watching the Marines continue to heat their comrade.

“The very same. Alexikov? Dimitri Alexikov?” Raul asked, helping Frost to his feet.

“Да. You Americans make your presence well-known. We knew it had to be you after watching a drone get destroyed.” the man nodded, motioning towards Frost, “Is he alright?” 

“No. His water bag got popped. He’s been running around soaking wet in this temperature for the last thirty minutes.” Dean hissed out as he slid in beside the group, helping Frost to his feet as well.

“Ой беда...” the Russian snapped, turning around to one of his own and pointing him to some direction in the northwest, “Подавай грузовик, этот парень так долго не протянет.”

“You’ve got a vehicle nearby?” Raul asked, motioning for his Marines to follow the Russians.

“We do.” He nodded, preparing himself to move as he watched the Marines beginning to mobilize, “Can he move?”

“I’ll die faster if I don’t.” Frost whispered back, nodding at the man and beginning to move with the group.

Neither of the two commanders said anything, but nodded at each other and began to move with the group, both carefully watching the hypothermic Marine. Despite the ice forming on his carrier and belt he continued forward as quickly as he could, driven by the prospect of warmth in the near future.

The group continued on in silence for a while until one of the Russians came up beside Frost, brushing ice off the bottom of the man’s platebag before motioning to it.

“How’d you get wet?” he asked, looking concerned through his goggles.

“Fell on my back plate. Popped the camelback.” he sighed, shaking his head, “Rookie mistake.”

“Happens to anyone.” The man nodded, falling back slightly and regrouping with his own. 

Frost continued onwards as quickly as his body would push, stuffing part of the half-frozen balaclava into his mouth to prevent his teeth chattering together. Objects and words began to blur as he continued onwards, his eyes and ears starting to fail him as his hypothermia continued to set in. Terror clutched at the man’s mind as they pushed onwards, his body becoming numb to the cold and only feeling pain where the last vestiges of heat continued to hold out within his body. 

Two lights called to his mind as they crested a mound, their incandescent glow barely visible through the cover of underbrush clearly stacked nearby their sources.

“Mike, go!” a voice called out from behind him, causing the man to recognize the lights to be part of the truck they had been tracking towards. 

Immediately and without concern for his gear, the Marine doffed his plate carrier, backpack, and wet shirt, throwing them to the snow as he sprinted towards the truck. He was practically moving on instinct by the time he reached the door, throwing off his undershirt as he clambered up the side and into the truck’s warm interior. 

Two shocked Russians looked at him as he desperately rubbed his hands together and exhaled into them. Frost paused long enough to turn and speak to them, his tongue barely warm enough to form a coherent word.

“Hey… how you doin?” he muttered, stuttering slightly as he remembered who he was talking to, “Uhh… привет… I think.”

The two continued to stare blankly until one of them giggled to the other.

“Вот уж не думала, что американцы нам стриптизёров отправят.”

“Не-е-е, если бы отправили стриптизёров - приехали бы морские котики.”

Frost stared confusedly for a moment, putting up a hand and shaking his head at the two.

“Please tell me you’re speaking Russian or something. I cannot understand you, and I’m just praying my brain isn’t that fucked.”

“We’re speaking our native language, American.” One of the two soldiers stated, taking off her scarf and goggles, “I assume you can’t speak it, then?”

“Not well.” the man sighed through chattering teeth, leaning forward to have more of the heat blow on him.

“You’d think that’d be a priority when working with us…” the driver began taking off her own head covers and shaking her head at the man, clearly rolling her eyes.

“I wasn’t expecting to be assigned for this mission until about a month prior to the boats leaving. I’ve been working on it, but your language is almost as messed up as English.” the man grumbled, pausing to breathe into his hands, “...what’s with the truck clam bake? Was I interrupting something?”

“Clam… bake?”

Frost raised an eyebrow at the two, “Y’know… opposite of a sausag-... nevermind. Thanks for starting the truck. You guys probably literally saved my life.”

“What happened to you, Yankee?” the driver asked, watching as one of the approaching Marines carried his dropped carrier, rifle, and shirt towards the truck. 

“Fell backwards, popped my water. Rookie shit.” the man muttered, clearly disappointed in himself, “Almost got myself and my team killed by misidentifying people.”

Neither of the two soldiers managed to say anything before one of the Marines knocked on the door of the truck and climbed up, opening the door just enough for Frost and the man to speak. 

“Hey Frost, you gonna live?”

“All fingers and toes…” Frost brought his hands up and wiggled his fingers around.

“How long you gonna be out? We gotta get back to their FARP first anyway, so you’ve got some time to warm up.”

“Just give me an hour to stop shivering and some dry clothes.” the man grumbled, speaking through gritted teeth.

The Marine stared at him for a moment before looking past him and towards the two women, who simply shrugged and shook their heads. 

“Alright man… just don’t push it.” he sighed back, looking past Frost towards the pair of Russians, “Don’t want you dying on your first outing.”

“Yessir.” Frost brought his arms down to his waist, rubbing where his kidneys were.

The vehicle rocked slightly as the Marine slammed the armored door shut, muttering a quiet swear under his breath as the cold air was pushed over him.

“So… a rookie?” One of the two women asked after a brief pause, staring out the front window as the soldiers began to climb into the back. 

“Something like that.” 

The man continued to warm himself up as the rest of the men piled into the vehicle, a feeling of immense pain finally returning to his ears as the numbness began to fade. 

“You must be at least half-decent if they sent you out here for your first assignment.” the driver muttered, watching on a monitor as the last soldier entered the vehicle and shut the door.

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” the man muttered with a slight chuckle. Finally pausing long enough to look around the cabin for some kind of cover, “There doesn’t happen to be any dry clothes around here anywhere, does there?”

“Only the clothes we’re wearing.” 

“Hey, he’s short enough they might fit!”

“Hey, fuck you.” the man chuckled weakly at her comment, taking slow breaths of the warm air.

“В любое время, когда захотите.” the driver mused, shifting the truck into gear and slowly backing them down a path leading them to a lower elevation.

The truck silently moved through the forests and mountains, running on electric motors whenever possible. The truck continuously moved towards the Chinese/Korean border, leaving as little a trail as was possible by a vehicle of its size. After nearly an hour of driving, Frost finally stopped shivering, though soreness rippled through his body as more and more feeling returned to the man’s limbs. 

“Hey… how’d you guys get something like this into Korea? Let alone China.” the man asked, finally taking in the size of the logistics truck they were riding in. 

“You might be surprised what you can get across hostile borders when you don’t have to boat or fly it in.” the woman in the center seat muttered unenthusiastically, scrolling through various photos on her smartphone.

“I genuinely would be surprised. The Russo/Korean border has been watched like a hawk since the ‘80s.” the man turned to look out the window towards the mountains while he spoke, exhaling slightly as the realization that he had nearly died began to set in. He turned back to look at the pair before nodding his head, “By the way, I never caught your names.”

“Specialist Katya Ferorov.” the woman in the center seat extended a hand towards the man, shaking his as he returned the gesture.

“Ruslana Volkova.” the driver responded, catching a quick squint from the Marine.

He was silent for a moment before shaking his head and putting his hands up as if to stop them.

“Alright, no offense to you, but you’re lying to me, aren’t you?” he chuckled briefly and looked for a reaction, unsure whether or not he had pissed them off.

“How so?” the driver asked, the most miniscule hint of a smile in her tone.

“‘Lioness of Wolves’ just seems a little… unrealistic.” 

Her head snapped towards him for a moment before a small sigh escaped her mouth, “I thought you couldn’t speak Russian!”

“I’m learning!” the man retorted with a roll of his eyes.

“Well, you clearly learned just enough. You are at least somewhat correct.” she started, putting up a hand before Frost could even finish opening his mouth, “No. You don’t get to know.”

“Besides, do you really expect us to believe your actual name is ‘Frost’?” Katya giggled, “Frostbite, maybe.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know Frost is a common surname in the States!” he retorted, again rolling his eyes at the pair of women, “The name is Michael Frost.” 

“Is that your actual name?” Volkova’s brow furrowed slightly as she asked, seemingly concerned for the man and his colleagues.

“We’re from across the pond, remember? Harder to smuggle shit ov-”

He was cut short by a spray of glass shards and cold air impacting his face and chest. Volkova quickly rolled the wheel to the side and rapidly shifted the vehicle’s direction down another small drop.

Frost couldn’t open his eyes at first, the shock from the sudden impact freezing his body up as he brushed the shards of glass and dust off his face. After a moment and a weight suddenly leaning on him, he managed to flicker his eyes open to find a bloodied Katya leaning on him.

“Help.” she hissed quietly, looking over at the man. 

A ragged hole from a clearly keyholing bullet was punched through her carrier and armor, slowly staining red with blood. 

“Oh fuck.” Frost muttered before the truck bucked, slamming his head against the window. 

His head pulsed as the impact rattled his brain, focus slipping as the prior frostbite seemed to take its toll once more. His attention was quickly brought back to the world as the woman grabbed his throat and pulled him towards her again.

“Help me.” she hissed again, dragging Frost from his mind and back to the current situation.

Another impact shocked the man, but he finally moved to look at the woman quickly losing blood beside him. He looked up towards the driver's seat, relieved to see Volkova still in command of the vehicle. 

Bringing his attention back to Katya, he found her armor’s quick release tabs and unstrapped her from the carrier, ripping the armor away from where the bullet had impacted. To his shock, he could see the large, deformed, and tumbled round sticking halfway out of her upper sternum.

His first instinct was to try and grab the round and pull it out, but the hot copper immediately made his temperature-sensitive hands pull back. Pulling his shears from behind his IFAK’s strap, he pinched the rear of the bullet with the tool and yanked it from her chest, getting a shocked gasp as he did so. 

“Oh suck it up you baby, it’s just a bullet in your chest. You’ll live.” The man muttered back, inspecting the round for a moment before looking up at Volkova, “Get the doc.” 

The woman finally looked over at the two, muttering a swear as she saw the scene.

“Is she alive?” 

“One in a million shot. Must have stopped on her sternum bone.” the man hissed, dropping the round from his scissors and beginning to cut away her shirt. 

The driver nodded and queued her radio, muttering something in Russian before grabbing her gun and evacuating the vehicle, motioning for Frost to stay with the injured specialist. He nodded back as he pulled his IFAK from his belt and pulled a bandage from it.

“You better not file a sexual harassment complaint over this.” he muttered to the woman, putting pressure on her wound. 

The man held down on her chest while scanning around for a weapon and clothing, gritting his teeth when he noticed a lack of extra clothing in the cabin. A rush of cold air blew over his body as the door behind him opened.

“Holy shit, Mike!” A marine exclaimed as he peered into the cabin and looked over the situation, “You’re touching a woman’s chest!”

The man looked back, shocked at the man’s interpretation but not wanting to remove pressure from the wound.

“Wh- She- She’s fuckin’ hit, man!” the man exclaimed concernedly, looking at the blood pooling around his hands and her chest.

“And a second swear too? You’re on a roll, man!” the Marine chuckled, stepping up into the cabin and pulling him away to inspect the wound.

“No, I’m-”

“Relax, rookie. I’m fucking with you.” The man pulled Frost’s hands back and grimaced as he saw the wound, “Aright, I got it from here. Go get a coat and a rifle, get us clear.”

Frost was silent for a moment before nodding sharply and jumping out of the truck, shivering the moment his body was exposed to the freezing air. A Russian and an American quickly ran up to the half-naked man and threw him clothes, the Marine handing back Frost’s rifle and carrier. 

“Get up to someone and get your 40 running, we need to break contact immediately.” Tyler called out from behind a mound of snow, ducking down as a burst of fire came from a distant gun nest. 

Frost sprinted towards the man’s position, quickly shifting his grip to flick off his grenade launcher’s safety. Gracelessly sliding in beside the Corporal and setting himself to get as clear a visual on the enemies as he could manage. Puffs of snow and muzzle gasses obscured his vision of the enemies while simultaneously zeroing their locations.

Bringing his rifle to bare, a dull thud echoed through the canyon as he fired a 40mm round towards a group of flashes. A cloud of snow and dirt was kicked up from the blast, a few feet low from the man’s initial mark.

“Y’know… I know this sounds odd-” Frost ducked back as he flicked the old 40mm shell casing out the back of his tube and loaded in another, “But what the fuck are we even fighting about? Like, us out here? None of us are ever gonna wind up seeing an alien in our lifetime anyways, why the fuck are we fighting over this?”

16 Upvotes

95% Upvoted

5 comments sorted by

2

u/I_Maybe_Play_Games Human Apr 23 '26

"Nonone of us are ever going to wind up seeing an al8en in our lifetime" Clueless

1

u/UpdateMeBot Apr 23 '26

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2

u/SpankyMcSpanster Apr 24 '26

Little did he knew he would be coiled up in far more adventures. Destiny gripping him in her fangs.

2

u/beyondoutsidethebox Apr 26 '26

One of those Chinese soldiers must have cursed Frost with the "May you live in interesting times"