At least 18 soldiers provided to Putin by Kim Jong Un were said to have abandoned their positions after arriving to the front, Ukrainian media reports.
Imagine living in a 1950’s time bubble. You are being constantly told through propaganda that your military force is cutting edge and that it can easily overwhelm any enemy.
Then you are being sent to fight on a battlefield where everyone has better gear than you, where you are confronted to weapons that are so far advanced beyond anything that you’ve ever seen they might as well be magic. Then you see said weapons completely obliterate your comrades without giving you a chance to even see the enemy who operates them.
You only obeyed so far because you feared what your government might do to you if you didn’t. Now you’ve found something that you fear even more.
An Outside Context Problem was the sort of thing most civilizations encountered just once, and which they tended to encounter rather in the same way a sentence encountered a full stop.
Novel? As in a book of fiction? This is happening right now. I am sure some video of this will come out of this sad story and maybe in a few years some of these people who surrendered will be able to write their own story first hand. (I am assuming they will not want to go back to nk).
I threw it into ChatGPT, then asked them to change the name from Henry to one common in Korea.
In-soo had always believed the stories. The glossy propaganda reels, the posters of steely-eyed soldiers, and the speeches from government officials all painted the same picture: his country’s military was unmatched, unstoppable. Though the world had advanced, In-soo’s nation remained locked in a past vision of itself, proudly touting its military might, using technology that hadn’t evolved much beyond the 1950s. Tanks, planes, and rifles that his father might’ve used were still standard issue. It was enough, they said, to overwhelm any enemy.
But when they arrived on the battlefield, the illusion shattered.
The air was thick with smoke and dust. In-soo clutched his rifle, a relic from an era that felt like ancient history. He could hear the hum of something—machines, weapons, drones? He didn’t know. The enemy was out there, but they remained invisible, their presence felt only through strange, high-pitched frequencies and flashes of light. He had been trained for combat in a conventional sense, but this wasn’t war as he understood it.
A blinding flash erupted in the distance. Seconds later, half his squad was gone, reduced to nothing more than ash. No gunfire, no warning—just a blip, and they were vaporized. In-soo froze. This wasn’t warfare. It was annihilation. The weapons being used against them were so advanced they were beyond his comprehension, like something out of a nightmare. Weapons that didn’t give him a chance to even see who—or what—was operating them.
“Stay together!” his commanding officer shouted, but it didn’t matter. How could they stay together when they couldn’t even see what was killing them? Panic surged through the ranks. Soldiers who had once stood tall, believing in their nation’s invincibility, now scattered in terror, desperate to survive.
In-soo crouched behind a rusted piece of machinery, gripping his rifle tightly, though he knew it was useless. He had been afraid of disobeying orders, terrified of what his government would do to him if he didn’t serve. But now, that fear felt insignificant. The enemy’s technology wasn’t just more advanced—it was like magic, bending the very rules of reality.
He glanced at the scorched earth where his comrades once stood, feeling a deep, gnawing helplessness. They weren’t soldiers anymore. They were bodies—disappearing in a war where they never stood a chance. In-soo had always feared the consequences of deserting or refusing to fight, but now, a new terror gripped him: the realization that he was facing something far worse than his government’s threats.
The certainty that had once bolstered him was gone. All that remained was the fear of an enemy he couldn’t see, couldn’t fight, and couldn’t even begin to understand.
It’s pretty alright! Too on the nose with the descriptions at first but that improved a bit as it went. I think I might give this a go myself tomorrow!
Imagine living in a 1950’s time bubble. You are being constantly told through propaganda that your military force is cutting edge and that it can easily overwhelm any enemy.
Then you are being sent to fight on a battlefield where everyone has better gear than you, where you are confronted to weapons that are so far advanced beyond anything that you’ve ever seen they might as well be magic. Then you see said weapons completely obliterate your comrades without giving you a chance to even see the enemy who operates them.
You only obeyed so far because you feared what your government might do to you if you didn’t. Now you’ve found something that you fear even more.
imagine them seeing the drone for the first time.
Hearing
For the first and last time 😟
🌻
Hey (pointing skywards), is that a dro…
Not sure they even hear them. I’ve watched 1,000 Russians die, clueless anything was targeting them.
Some, it depends how high they are. I’ve also seen a lot of em being chased. It’s good for the lulz.
You’re also used to standing around guarding a border all the time, not experiencing actual combat at all.
And by “guarding the border” it really means “shooting anyone trying to escape”
Please write this novel.
Novel? As in a book of fiction? This is happening right now. I am sure some video of this will come out of this sad story and maybe in a few years some of these people who surrendered will be able to write their own story first hand. (I am assuming they will not want to go back to nk).
Yeah, a fictional account of a current situation is pretty preposterous, you’re right. Dunno what I was thinking.
I threw it into ChatGPT, then asked them to change the name from Henry to one common in Korea.
In-soo had always believed the stories. The glossy propaganda reels, the posters of steely-eyed soldiers, and the speeches from government officials all painted the same picture: his country’s military was unmatched, unstoppable. Though the world had advanced, In-soo’s nation remained locked in a past vision of itself, proudly touting its military might, using technology that hadn’t evolved much beyond the 1950s. Tanks, planes, and rifles that his father might’ve used were still standard issue. It was enough, they said, to overwhelm any enemy.
But when they arrived on the battlefield, the illusion shattered.
The air was thick with smoke and dust. In-soo clutched his rifle, a relic from an era that felt like ancient history. He could hear the hum of something—machines, weapons, drones? He didn’t know. The enemy was out there, but they remained invisible, their presence felt only through strange, high-pitched frequencies and flashes of light. He had been trained for combat in a conventional sense, but this wasn’t war as he understood it.
A blinding flash erupted in the distance. Seconds later, half his squad was gone, reduced to nothing more than ash. No gunfire, no warning—just a blip, and they were vaporized. In-soo froze. This wasn’t warfare. It was annihilation. The weapons being used against them were so advanced they were beyond his comprehension, like something out of a nightmare. Weapons that didn’t give him a chance to even see who—or what—was operating them.
“Stay together!” his commanding officer shouted, but it didn’t matter. How could they stay together when they couldn’t even see what was killing them? Panic surged through the ranks. Soldiers who had once stood tall, believing in their nation’s invincibility, now scattered in terror, desperate to survive.
In-soo crouched behind a rusted piece of machinery, gripping his rifle tightly, though he knew it was useless. He had been afraid of disobeying orders, terrified of what his government would do to him if he didn’t serve. But now, that fear felt insignificant. The enemy’s technology wasn’t just more advanced—it was like magic, bending the very rules of reality.
He glanced at the scorched earth where his comrades once stood, feeling a deep, gnawing helplessness. They weren’t soldiers anymore. They were bodies—disappearing in a war where they never stood a chance. In-soo had always feared the consequences of deserting or refusing to fight, but now, a new terror gripped him: the realization that he was facing something far worse than his government’s threats.
The certainty that had once bolstered him was gone. All that remained was the fear of an enemy he couldn’t see, couldn’t fight, and couldn’t even begin to understand.
That’s actually pretty good! Sure, lots of tweaking to be done, but pretty good overall.
It’s pretty alright! Too on the nose with the descriptions at first but that improved a bit as it went. I think I might give this a go myself tomorrow!