2042_POST-WW3 - GIRLS' FRONTLINE FANFICTION.

INSIDERS_5: VALKY_RIVER_.

"Defense Line on Valky River"
July 29th, 2040

The sun had barely risen above the horizon when we reached Valky. The air was thick with the smell of wet grass and smoke, the kind of scent that clings to your skin and refuses to let go. We had fought hard to take this town—Whiskey-Kyrod Motorized Infantry Brigade and us, the men of the Alfa-Nokav Infantry Brigade—and we weren't about to give it up without a fight. My hands were still shaking from the battle the night before, but there was no time for rest. The Bolakos Militia Force (BMF) was coming, and we knew it.

We set up defensive positions along the Valky River, the only natural barrier between us and the BMF forces trying to retake the town. The river wasn't much—shallow in most places, only a few meters wide—but it was enough to slow them down, give us a chance to hold our ground. I took my place behind a small ridge, my rifle in hand, eyes scanning the treeline on the far side of the river. The tension was palpable. Everyone was on edge, waiting for the first sign of movement.

It didn't take long.

I spotted the first BMF soldier through my scope, crawling through the tall grass, trying to get close without being seen. A single shot echoed through the air, and he dropped. But where there was one, there were more. Within minutes, the treeline erupted with gunfire, and the BMF was charging the river, desperate to cross. The air filled with the deafening roar of machine guns and mortars, the ground shaking beneath us as explosions tore through the earth.

For three hours, we fought. My fingers were numb from gripping my rifle, my throat raw from shouting orders to the men around me. Bullets whizzed past my head, some close enough to feel the heat as they sliced through the air. I kept my head low, moving from cover to cover, picking off any BMF soldier who dared try to cross. It felt like a never-ending onslaught—wave after wave of men throwing themselves at us, hoping to break through our lines.

But they never did.

The Whiskey-Kyrod brigade held strong, and so did we. By the time the sun was high in the sky, the BMF forces had been neutralized. Bodies littered the riverbank, their attempted crossing a failure. We had done it. Valky was still ours.

The adrenaline began to wear off as we cleared the battlefield, checking the bodies, gathering what ammunition and supplies we could. I was exhausted, every muscle in my body aching from the strain of the fight. But there was something else—a feeling of relief, maybe even pride. We had defended our position, held our ground when it mattered most. But that didn't stop the nagging thought in the back of my mind: how long could we keep doing this? How long before it was us lying dead on that riverbank?

We were given a few hours to rest after the battle, a rare luxury in the chaos of this war. I found a quiet spot by the river, away from the noise of the others. The water flowed gently, undisturbed by the violence that had just unfolded along its banks. I sat down on a rock, staring out at the river, trying to clear my head. That's when I heard footsteps approaching.

"Petrovich," a familiar voice called out.

I turned and saw Alexander Nikolai walking toward me, his rifle slung over his shoulder, a weary smile on his face. I hadn't seen him since the City Hall explosion, but now I do.

"Nikolai," I said, standing up to greet him. "You made it through."

"Barely," he chuckled, shaking my hand. "This war's a damn nightmare, but you already know that."

We sat by the river for a while, talking about old times, about the battles we'd fought, and the friends we'd lost along the way. It felt good to have someone there, someone who understood what it was like. In the trenches, surrounded by death and destruction, it was easy to feel alone, even when you were surrounded by your comrades. But Nikolai and I had history, and that meant something.

At some point, one of the messengers came by, handing me a letter. I stared at it for a moment, recognizing the handwriting immediately. It was from my family. My hands trembled as I opened it, the paper worn from the journey it had taken to get to me. The words were simple, full of love and worry. They told me that they were safe, that they prayed for me every day, that they missed me. My mother's handwriting brought tears to my eyes, though I blinked them back quickly, not wanting the others to see.

It was a strange thing, reading about home in the middle of a war zone. For a few brief moments, I wasn't Corporal Borislav Petrovich. I was just a son, a brother, a man with a family waiting for him on the other side of this nightmare. But the sound of gunfire in the distance quickly brought me back to reality. There was no escaping it—not here.

Nikolai and I found ourselves back by the river later that evening, after the sun had begun to set. The sky was streaked with hues of orange and red, the light reflecting off the water like a painting. It was almost peaceful, if you could ignore the fact that we were in the middle of a war.

"Do you ever wonder what happens after all this?" Nikolai asked suddenly, his voice quiet. "After the war?"

I glanced at him, unsure of what to say. It wasn't a question I'd allowed myself to think about. What came after? Peace? Victory? Or just more fighting? I'd seen too much death, too much destruction, to believe that there was an easy answer.

"I don't know," I admitted. "I guess I've just been trying to survive each day. Thinking about the future feels... impossible."

Nikolai nodded, his gaze fixed on the river. "Yeah. Same here. But sometimes I wonder... what if we're fighting for something that'll never come? What if there's nothing waiting for us at the end of this?"

I didn't have an answer for him. The war had taken so much from us already—our friends, our homes, our innocence. It was hard to imagine a world beyond the bloodshed. But I couldn't let myself believe that it was all for nothing. I had to believe that there was something better out there, something worth fighting for.

"We'll find out," I said quietly. "One way or another."

We sat in silence for a long time after that, the only sound the gentle flow of the river and the distant rumble of artillery. In that moment, we weren't soldiers. We were just two men, trying to make sense of a world that no longer made any.

The war wasn't over. We both knew that. But for now, Valky was safe, and that was enough. For now.

As the night deepened, and the stars began to dot the sky, I looked back at the letter from my family. Their words echoed in my mind, reminding me of the life I had left behind, and the hope that maybe, just maybe, I'd see them again.