A Soldier Adrift: An Isekai Story

Opening his eyes for the umpteenth time, all he saw were fire, smoke, and dead bodies lying around. He grew tired of such a sight; every single day it was like this. Blood covered his clothes and hands as he stared at the dead body below him. The person's neck was sliced open, and a fountain of blood poured from it.

The sounds of gunshots and explosions filled his ears and never left as soon as he stepped foot on the battlefield. 

His breathing was haggard; the never-ending smoke made it hard to breathe. He could hear the slow, rhythmic beats of his heart. He slid down his helmet and began raising his weapon. His eyes spotted a figure up ahead. Without a moment's hesitation, he pulled the trigger.

A resounding boom echoed, and the person in front of him, just meters away, dropped instantly. He didn’t stop there. He shot every man and woman he could see. As long as they weren't the men and women behind him, he would kill them.

This was war.

A war that started due to greed and lust for power.

A war that had no purpose other than suffering and death.

“Keep pushing! Don’t give them time to adjust!” Just beside him, his commander shouted, gesturing for his men to advance. The surrounding area was littered with destroyed vehicles, tanks, and bodies. The terrain also proved to be challenging, it was steep and rocks were everywhere.

Despite that, the rest of his fellow soldiers didn’t hesitate. Adrenaline filled their body as they screamed like animals.  In less than a second, hundreds of soldiers went out from cover and ran toward the enemy's frontline.

The jets covered the area with bombs, leading to precious time where they wouldn't be hailed by gunfire. Helicopters and tanks all rode in one direction towards an inevitable death.

Like the rest, he was stupid to join in that death. He took a deep breath and ran, running like there was no tomorrow.

For every mile they covered, a soldier died. One, two, he couldn't count anymore.

“Fire! Keep firing!”

By the direct order given by his commander, he aimed his gun in front. The smoke made it hard to see where the enemies were, but he didn’t care. They just needed to fire. Several rounds of ammunition were finished in less than a minute. He dropped down to the ground, reloading his gun.

“You alright, Garson? You look like you’ve seen hell,” a soldier remarked, dropping down beside him.

Garson recognized the voice; it was his friend Mike. He slid up his faceplate and stared at him, unamused.

“Seriously? We’re already in hell.”

“I don’t know, I really can’t feel it,” Mike mused, adopting a mock yet thoughtful expression. “Could it be the wind?”

He looked at his friend, deadpan.

“Well, feel free to experience it yourself.” He pointed at the battlefield. “I’m sure you can find your answer there in no time.”

Mike laughed in response. “Gotta love your sense of humor sometimes.”

“Appreciate it.”

When they both finished reloading their rifles, they slid down the faceplates of their helmets and took a peek at the frontline. The smoke had not yet cleared, and there were several flashes of lights up ahead, which were gunshots.

“We’d better get a move on. I’ll see you on the other side, Garson. Don't die on me.”

“Right back at you.”

Mike nodded before hurrying off back to the battlefield with his platoon.

Looking at his departing friend, Garson often wondered how he could pull a joke in times like this. He sort of respected him for that. Most regular people would drown themselves in trauma and depression after witnessing such horrors. He was likely to do so himself.

+++===+++

In the blink of an eye, they already lost thousands of soldiers in just a span of an hour.

It was now midnight. It was night when they first launched the attack. He was sitting near the edge of a cliff, taking a small breather while cleaning his gear from the bloodstains and often looking at the devastated field of land. Meanwhile, most of the soldiers were either being treated for their wounds or resting for another frontal assault in the next couple of minutes.

“You alright there, Garson?”

He didn’t need to turn around to recognize that voice.

“Mike, you're alive.”

“You don’t look like you’re happy to see me. Oh well, thanks for the concern anyway,” Mike said sarcastically. “But I’m glad you’re safe too.”

He sat down next to him, lighting a cigarette.

“Want some?” He gestured with the cigarette.

“I don’t smoke.”

“Suit yourself then.”

Neither of them spoke another word for a few minutes, just enjoying the small peace they had left before another march of death. It was until Mike broke it off.

“You know, just curious. After this war, if somehow we win and we are alive without missing limbs, what would you do?”

“That's a random question. What's up with that?”

“Just like I said, I was curious.”

Garson, who had just finished cleaning his gear, stared at Mike silently.

“Okay, so I am going to assume your silence means you haven’t thought that far yet,” Mike said, sighing. “Fine, I’ll start first.”

“Let’s see. After this war, I think I would go apply for a job. Not the type where you sit in an office, but something more worthy for someone like myself.”

“And what would that be?”

“I’m glad you asked, my dear friend.” Mike coughed before continuing. “I would be a full-time comedian.”

“.....”

“What? What’s that look on your face? Is there something wrong?”

“Why a comedian of all things?” He couldn't help but ask his friend. He would understand any other job, but a comedian? Was he out of his mind? Had the war gotten to him mentally? No offense to comedians.

“I can already tell what you're thinking with that face of yours. But for your information, I like making people laugh, so what better job than a comedian, right?” He shrugged.

“Ah, I get it now, but it's weird.”

“Weird what?”

“I thought you were already a comedian judging by how you act.”

“...” Mike fell silent for a couple of seconds before opening his mouth. “So should I take that as a compliment or an insult?”

He smiled. “Both, actually,” he replied.

“....” Mike again fell silent before chuckling. “Ok, you got me there.”

Another silence washed over them before his friend's face took a rather sudden serious look. “Hey Garson, do you have any regrets in life? Like the decisions you made back then leading to now, and how another decision could have been potentially better?”

“What's up with these questions?” Garson asked, finally becoming suspicious. Why did it feel like they were talking as if it was their final moments?

His friend, however, looked serious, awaiting his answer. So he felt the need to answer.

“Well, to be honest, there are some things I do regret,” he finally said.

“I see, I guess all of us do,” Mike replied after a moment. “You know, sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I took my father's offer to become an actor.” Then the tone of the atmosphere shifted. “Then I would be rich right now with tons of ladies in my arms.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Garson replied.

“You don’t believe me?”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Before Mike could retort, the commander's voice sounded from the field.

“Gear up, boys. Rest is over. Get your butt-slacking asses up because we’re attacking in 5 minutes. Be ready!”

+++===+++

Above his head, several missiles flew out and bombarded several outposts. It was the last of the many airstrikes that the base would provide. 

Just meters away from the destruction, all of them stood still, waiting in silence. The commander held his hand up, ready to give the signal. When the last missiles struck, the commander closed his hand, signaling for an attack.

“Charge!” The commander yelled, rallying all the men behind him.

Garson did not let out a battle cry; instead, he raised his rifle and shot multiple rounds.

In less than a second, on their side, five men already went down, but they didn’t retreat or bat an eye for their fallen comrades. They were close to achieving victory. Only a fool would retreat from such an opportunity.

He ran faster, overtaking some of his allies, and took cover when the enemy tried to counterattack.

“Machine gun! One o'clock!” someone shouted from the battlefield.

Looking to where his ally pointed, he spotted a figure up ahead who was manning the machine gun at the top. He aimed his gun at the figure, his hands steady when he shot his rifle, and the figure went down instantly.

“He’s down!” Garson shouted to all his fellow soldiers.

When the coast was clear, he ran again, and the process repeated until they finally closed in on them.

“Delta two and three on me to the left border,” the commander commanded with a stern look. “Delta zero and five on the right. Kill on sight even if they surrender, that’s an order.”

All soldiers nodded in unison at his command. Garson saw a person approaching him; it was Mike.

“Hey Garson, be careful out there. I won’t be there to watch your back, remember that.”

He nodded at him. “I will and you too, Mike.”

Mike smiled and nodded back before hurrying to follow the commander.

After a tense silence, Garson and the rest of the soldiers with him went towards their supposed location. They all held their guns on point, watching every corner they stumbled across. While walking, Garson took notice of several bodies lying around, and some parts of those bodies were torn and missing. It was a disgusting sight to behold.

“Is it wrong that I feel bad for some of them?” a random soldier said aloud, but no one paid him any mind.

When they stumbled upon a small opening, the acting commander spoke.

“Be careful, this place isn’t clear just yet.”

Garson nodded and took cover behind a wall like the rest, peeking often to see if there were enemies close by.

“Do you guys see anything?”

“No, it’s quite hard to see.”

Garson narrowed his eyes, trying to see if there was something up ahead. There was a tense silence as they waited. Then there it was, a small flash. He opened his mouth to say something, but out of nowhere, a missile rang out and exploded near him. He felt his eardrum almost bursting at the sound of it.

“RPG!” It was too late. Before any of them could react, several precision gunshots from the enemy ripped through their defenses. Those that were peeking immediately went down. Several tried to fight back but were overwhelmed.

Garson gritted his teeth, trying to shake off the ringing in his ears.

“Where are they? I can’t see!”

“I don’t know!”

“Smoke! Everyone, throw a smoke!” the acting commander yelled.

Several smoke grenades were thrown and filled the place with smoke. While it provided some sort of cover, it didn’t do much help.

When the ringing in his ears became more bearable, Garson raised his rifle and shot randomly at the smoke. The rest followed suit, and both opposing sides clashed.

‘Fuck. I thought most of them were already cleared out. Why are there still so many?’ He knew at this point there was no retreating. They had gone too far and lost too many men. Retreating would only make their efforts go to waste, and all those who died would make their death worthless.

“Fuck! Argh, my-my leg!” someone cried out from his left. Garson took cover to reload his gun and took this opportunity to look at the person who had lost his leg in the explosion. He was on the other side of the cover. Between them was a large gap that was open for enemies to shoot through.

“Please help…. it hurts… it hurts so much,” the person desperately croaked, tears in his eyes. The soldiers with him were already dead, and he was the only one left in his area. If he couldn’t stop the bleeding, he would be dead within seconds.

“Hey, get him a medic!” Garson shouted to the rest.

“Our medic’s dead!” someone shouted in response.

“Just leave him be; we’ve got bigger problems to deal with,” another one added.

Garson clicked his tongue. ‘These bastards.’

The more he spent time in the military, the more he knew how little they cared for each other if they were strangers. Don’t leave your brothers—what a shit motto it was. They barely even followed it.

Garson tried anyway to help his fellow companion, but with the relentless firing from the opposing side, it was difficult to cross the gap without suffering a bullet or two.

“Fuck,” he cursed. Even with their counter-firing, it didn’t help much. He could only stare at his soon-to-be fallen comrade with sympathy in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” was all he could say. It didn't reassure the dying soldier but only gave a sense of despair.

The soldier didn’t respond but closed his eyes. He saw him reach for his handgun and aimed at his head.

Garson did nothing as the soldier shot himself.

He looked towards the remaining soldiers. There were about 10-14 of them left out of 30. The enemy still hadn’t stopped their relentless assault, and neither did they stop firing.

However, they were at a disadvantage. They were losing ammunition fast, and if they ran out, the enemy would take this opportunity to rush forward, and they would be helpless to stop it.

He tried to come up with a plan, but all of them would either fail or have a high failure rate.

The only choice they had was to hold and wait for backup, but he didn't know how long it would take. He couldn’t communicate with his commander on the other side nor know if they got ambushed like they did.

They were blind.

There was nothing they could do. They were waiting for death.

“Fuck! Shit! I’m out of ammo!”

“Fuck, me too!”

Just as he expected, the situation grew worse but it was too soon.

Garson immediately stopped firing as he tried to reload. He realized that he only had one mag left.

“Guys, I think there’s a tank up ahead.” A trembling voice gathered all their attention

‘A tank?’ Almost all of them thought bringing a sense of despair in their hearts. He shifted his eyes and peeked through a small hole in the wall. There it was, a tank, and it was aiming at them.

“Fuck” was all he could say before the tank fired at them. Explosions and gunfire tore through the walls, which were the only thing covering them.

Garson fell back from the explosion. When he stood up, a bullet shot through his abdomen.

He winced in pain and gritted his teeth, ignoring the pain.

He needed to move now!

He forced himself to stand and tried to run. He didn't make it far before another bullet struck his shoulder, then another pierced his right leg, causing him to drop to the ground, kneeling.

“Ha, ha, it hurts….”

It was hard to breathe. His lungs were on fire, and every time he inhaled, it only grew worse. The explosions and gunshots rang through his ears, rendering him nauseated.

“Argh, fuck,” he cursed., realizing that he might die right at this moment. 

“Garson!”

Slowly pulling himself up, he raised his head. Even though his vision was blurry, he could still see someone running towards him just a few meters away.

“Mike?” he mumbled, just barely recognizing the person.

Then, before he could try to respond, an explosion erupted beside him. Luckily, it didn't hit him directly, but it knocked him to the ground. An audible, painful grunt escaped his mouth before he coughed up blood.

Time felt slow as he stared at the sky. He could see helicopters passing overhead.

“Garson, damn it. Don’t die on me!”

Before he could process what was happening, somebody pulled him up from the ground.

“Mike?” He mumbled, his voice was soft and barely audible

“Don’t talk. Save your energy. We’re getting you to a medic.”

Garson could only give a slight nod and rest his eyes. He could hear gunshots nearby, which he assumed were from nearby allies retaliating.

‘What a twisted war this is,’ Those were his last thoughts before drifting into the darkness.

Never though I'd be writing again after deciding to give it up completely. Sighhh. Well enjoy

As for the chapter, You could already guess what's the next chapter will be lol