We Move As One | BANDERA FELLA

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Special Operations Forces

🪖 Inside my mind, the battlefield transforms , every sense is heightened. I know the weight of the mission, the hopes it carries, the risks it entails, and in these moments, my thoughts turn inward.

This operation was unlike any other; stripped of the protection of heavy armor. We were bare, exposed, armed with nothing but the order to engage.

I am Yuri, Falcon to my comrades. This operation, is not a choice. Taking lives is not a choice, but a grim necessity, each one leaves a heavy burden on my conscience.

Doubts clouded my mind, I think of my brothers-in-arms. Our reasons are clear, yet, the faces of my fallen comrades, their smiles, their courage, they haunt my waking moments.

The fear was palpable, a living thing within me. It gnawed at my soul, images of graves, the unspeakable horrors inflicted by the enemy – war crimes, executions, the desecration of all we hold dear. The screams of the innocent in occupied territories terrorized my heart, fueling a righteous rage, transforming fear into a sacred hate.

The night is never silent for me. Every step through the hostile terrain was conversation with myself.

'Stay alert, Yuri. Trust your instincts.'

The subtle rustle of leaves underfoot, the familiar grip of my weapon, the steady rhythm of my heartbeat, they were my anchors while a trench mud has been swallowing my legs. I felt the weight of responsibility on my shoulders, for the mission's success, for the lives of my brothers-in-arms.

Fear was my uninvited companion, though it was not my master.

But as the dawn broke, reality crashed in with the treachery sunrise. Upcomming storm is a time for reflection. I look around at my brothers, each carrying their own silent battles, their own unspoken grief.

As I stood there, with the first light of dawn brushing against the horizon, I knew this was a suicide field in front of me.

“Glory To The Nation,”,

"Let's kill the Russian scum," I roared

That roar was a catalyst, igniting the hunger within us, awakening the monsters of our collective pain into a singular, ravaging giant, and his name is “Spesial Operation Forces”

For we are the retrebution, and an enemy is ahead, unaware of the storm that approaches, is my domain, under the rule of my iron fist.

"Engage," I commanded, inviting the wolfs to hunt.

When we encountered the enemy position, something within me clicked. It was as if all the pieces fell into place. I didn't hesitate, didn't second-guess. Each trigger pull, a release of pent-up rage, a tribute to the fallen.

As we secure the position, take the captives, I feel the weight of our actions. But there's no room for doubt, what we do, we do for a future free from the violence of oppression.

The enemy's face blurs with those of past foes, their crimes. Capturing the enemy, I see not just a soldier, but the epitome of the tragedies inflicted upon my land, my people.

The inner demon urges retribution, to mirror the horrors we've endured. Hands, stained with the toil of war, tremble faintly, with the overwhelming tide of memories and emotions that flood my senses, leaving a trail of pain.

The pain is a constant companion, but it sharpens my focus, fuels my drive. I carry with me the weight of the hopes, the dreams, and the spirit of those who can fight no longer.

We move as one.