Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or anything else from JKR world.

AN: Well this is my first try at a fanfic. Keep in mind English is not my first language. The story will move the original time-line 10-15yrs in the future. My current word target is 40-50k if i need more i will continue to expand it. The first few chapter will take focus on OC most of the time, with some of them devoted for Harrys child hood. I will try an update at least once a week, if i can do more then so be it. Me and my beta are in the process of fixing up the next few chapters. I rather wait and have the chapter right than full or errors. Rating is T for now, if i feel like it needs it i will upgrade it to M. Hope you enjoy it...

Huge thanks to tomroodle for been beta to this story. She has done an amazing job helping me and making sure I understand what i did wrong. THX

Chapter 1

I'm a long way from home.

How did I get here? I have no fucking idea.

It started when I was 23. My life was in declining in every aspect. Every day that went by I got worse. I had so many dreams. I wanted to make my family proud, give them all that they deserve, but instead I let life slowly take me down. I became the thing I hated most, disappointing my family in almost everything.

A few months after I turned 23, my prospects were not good. I'd flunked out of college for the second time, I was getting fatter by the minute, and my social life was a joke. I had become a hermit and a parasite living in my home. Before this I used to think that I would rather be alive and utterly depressed than dead. To tell you the truth, I was terrified of death. No matter how bad my mental state got I still love to see the world around me. But things changed. I started to question myself: was being alive worth it? I knew my problems weren't so bad-kids in other countries were fighting for their lives. Still I felt I was wasting away slowly, painfully. I loved my family and I wished I could have been a better son and brother. But instead I was a terrible person, unworthy of their love.

On October 26, 2016 I lost everything. My family decided to go to some event, like always i refused to go. While they were out, some religious nut jobs decided to blow themselves up and take the only thing that I loved with them.

What a wake up call it is to feel so alone.

I kinda went crazy after that. I knew that after this I was never going to be the same. There was only one thing I wanted: revenge.

I told myself that it would help to fix me. But I was wrong. The tragedy accentuated my more heinous characteristics-the ones always lurking on the surface. I was losing control and, slowly but surely, I could feel my grasp on reality slip.

By the time I was 26 I managed to turn things around. I'd gotten back in shape. I finished my engineering degree, though I hated every second of it, but my mom would've wanted to see me do it. I did not care for my degree, I found a job in an entry level position. It was a boring job, mindlessly droning on about the same task each day. I could not deal with the stress and monotony of my job, 6 months later i quit. With no future prospect and no family that i could care enough to be with. I decided to join the air force, even though my mind was not same I always wanted to help people. So after a lot of hard work, for the first time in my life i manage to complete something without giving up. I ended up in the para-rescue unit as an officer. This unit was basically the special forces area of the air force. The training was brutal, but i kept at it. I loved every second of it. As you can expect we were trained in many forms of combat and enough medicals skills to keep someone alive in time to reach a real doctor. My job would be to rescue wounded soldiers or retrieve high value targets from behind enemy lines. I was not put in command of my on unit initially. Our superiors wanted the new officers to have some experience before taking control.

Unfortunately for me, the US and RU were having a pissing contest over Ukraine and Nato's borders. RU was moving more aggressively than ever into Ukrainian territory in hopes to offset, the growing power of that US was pushing into Nato's borders. What started as a civil war was threatening to blow out into a full World War. Europe was in panic and getting ready to fight, the middle east was worse than ever. People were dying by the hundreds every day. While the US and RU were having their tantrum. Belarus said fuck it and decided that attacking Latvia was a good idea. They apparently had some past problems with each other. Been backed by the Russia, Nato mounted a counter attack. This monumental decision destabilize the whole region bring with it the start of what would be known as WW3.

At 29 my training was done. By 2021 the war encompassed most of Europe, Middle east and the Pacific theater. The first time I got deployed, I was sent to Odessa on a personnel recovery mission. Our target was an enemy defector, been held by enemy forces. During this mission i had my first kill, I had mentally tried to prepare myself. I relied on my training. Better think of them as targets and not human beings. That's what we were taught.

The moment is so fast you don't stop to think about it-it's kill or be killed. I even felt a sort of happiness, as if I had won a small confrontation. After a successful mission, It's not until later that the reality hits you. I justified my actions by reminding myself that they were the enemy. A good soldier follows orders and finishes the mission no matter what.

Other deployments followed, each one more brutal than the last. Eventually, killing became second nature. It was simply part of the job. My role involved a lot "close quarter combat". Watching your fellow brother in arms become butchers, children blown up, villages destroy..., the desolation and misery were hell. I was conflicted: how could I be okay with taking life, but not be able to see so many innocents suffer?. It came a point that i stopped being able to feel the regret and pain that came with war.

Eventually I could no longer imagine my enemies as people- fathers,, sons, brothers, fathers some forced to fight, with no other options. Somehow, in my fucked up mind, I was bringing revenge to those who took my family away from me and so they became beasts to be butcher for what they had done.

My superiors had taken notice of my work. I had gained command to my own unit eighteen months after my deployment. The job was simple: get in, retrieve target, get out. And I was good at it. Sure, our group was a little trigger happy. But we got the job done and that was all our superiors cared about.

It wouldn't be long before bad intel compromised a mission. A failed mission, three members of the unit dead and me injured. I was transferred to a new special retrieval unit after recovery . It was a covert-ops coalition between different military branches. They apparently forgot that I had spent 3 years fighting non stop. But who was I to blame them? The war was getting more brutal and casualties were reached into the millions.

So while the world was going to shit, my unit began its work. Our job was to take prisoners, interrogate them, kill them without leaving no traces of our involvement . We fought in many battles, all over Europe. In our anger and blood-lust at the death and torture of one of our own that was captured, we executed 10 captured enemy soldiers and tortured another for information. We didn't care-to us these people were less than beasts. Our anger was to be our downfall, we never noticed enemy units surround us. So we fought and fought. I could see no end to it.

I still don't know how much time passed when I was shot and captured. All I remember was thinking how it was going to be my end. I was surprised to find that I was happy. I was finally going to be able to rest. I welcomed death-no more screaming, no more blood. No longer when I closed my eyes would I see the things I'd done.

Unfortunately it was not to be. I was meant to suffer a bit more on this earth.

I knew that the rest of my squad was dead. We had orders not to be captured alive, better to take the easy way out than suffer months of torture. The Russians tortured me, beat me, starved me. But I held, I gave no information, never said a word. I did kill a few of them during my stay in their camps. I bit the jugular of one, and slit the throat of another one with a rat femur I'd managed to sharpen. This got me a few more rounds of torture and beating, but I didn't care about dying. I would make it as hard as possible for them.

Some crazy doctor took notice of me and decided that i was a perfect subject for experimentation. I was cleaned and ship it of to the coldest place I'd ever known. There was one building standing in the middle of nowhere, and nothing for miles in any direction. I think i was correct in believing i was in Siberia, that desolated shit hole.

I think the good doctor was working on some super soldier serum or some bullshit like that. Whatever it was, i knew it burned and hurt like nothing i have experience before. For days i could feel the liquid burning in my veins. I would spend days in agony. To tell you the truth i had no idea how it have been since my capture. I lost sense of time a long time ago. I was probably getting close to my 35-40 birthday but there was no way for me to know. I think i spent some agonizing years in the company of the good doctor, but i can't be sure.

I think the good doctor was working on some super soldier serum or some bullshit like that. Whatever it was, it burned and stung. It was pain like nothing I had ever experienced. For days I could feel the liquid burning in my veins. It was agony.

I had lost all sense of time at that point. I think I spent several agonizing years in the company of the doctor, but I can't be sure.

What I do know is that whatever they were giving me was working. In what way I had no idea, I was still the sack of bone and skin I had been for the past few years. All my scars were still there, but my tattoos looked like stretched out stickers printed on low quality. Yet I could feel something beating inside of me beside my heart. It had a sort of low, persistent hum that got stronger everyday.

It was during a normal round of injections that something amazing happened. The alarms started sounding, and minutes later bombs started dropping everywhere. I was elated-finally, a chance to die and escape my hell. Perhaps I would know some peace after god-knows how many years.

My luck would not allow me that.

I saw it in slow motion: I saw it in slow motion: a bomb falling from one of the newly-made holes in the ceiling, an explosion, and the fire reacting with the chemicals and serums in the lab. I remember a bright light, and the humming inside my chest reached monumental levels. with all the chemicals and different serums there. I remember a bright light and the humming inside my chest reaching monumental levels, then it wall went black.

Then it all went black.

AN: Please review, whether you liked it or not, I would like to know what you think of the story, any suggestions etc.