Walking through battlefields in times of peace may not seem like the kind of thing a mercenary would do. But the RED Soldier found it to be rather diverting. Sure, he was a complete psychopath on the battlefield, but a mercenary's life can't always be war. RED and BLU only fought around three times a week these days, which left the disputed areas pretty much deserted.

This is how the RED Soldier found himself walking through Nucleus one cool, crisp desert evening. He wasn't paying attention to where he was going—he was just putting one foot in front of the other and seeing where it took him, focusing more on thinking. This had only resulted in him falling into the stomach-clenchingly, for-all-intents-and-purposes bottomless pit that surrounded Nucleus's central control point three times tonight. Not bad by his standards. As usual, he was spending his off-time thinking about his arsenal.

"…on the other hand, I got the shit kicked out of me at Barnblitz today," he was thinking. "If the BLU Heavy is going to keep using the Brass Beast, I'm going to need the self-healing. But then I might run out of ammo at a critical moment. Well, I'll try it and see how it goes. Now, secondaries… Do I bring the Reserve Shooter and go for the flashier kills? No, I've been kind of off my game recently. I could use the Concheror, I guess, but then I've got to worry about—" Suddenly, a huge metallic clanking noise sounded off around him, and the Soldier was immersed in darkness. Instinctively, the Soldier drew his trusty rocket launcher, ready to stand off any attackers. It wasn't until a few seconds later that he realized he was blind, and therefore wouldn't be fighting anyone.

"So, you've decided to show yourself at last, have you?" said a disembodied voice from somewhere behind the Soldier. Relying on instinct, the Soldier whirled around and fired. From the light given off by the explosion, he could see that he was standing on the central control point, and the device that prevented the forces of RED and BLU from capturing the point early had been closed around the point. The rocket exploded harmlessly against the bulletproof, flameproof, explosion-resistant, and generally invincible metal jaws. The Soldier heard the voice from earlier laugh softly.

"Struggle all you want, but you won't escape now."

"Who in the hell are you?" said the Soldier, feeling his way to the wall that the voice was coming from.

"I'm one of the people that WORK here."

"Huh? One of the what?"

"Exactly. You have no idea who I am. You didn't even know people worked here, did you?" The disembodied voice was steadily growing angrier. "Well, it's not all that important. We're just some of the most brilliant scientific minds in the nation trying to develop a superweapon that could alter the course of warfare forever. Why would anyone care about that?"

"Okay, there's no need to get sarcastic, lab monkey," said the Soldier, adjusting his Tyrant's Helm. "Just let me off this control point, and we'll talk about…whatever it is you're mad at me for."

"You know," the scientist said, not acknowledging the Soldier at all, "the funding from your employers and BLU are really the only way our operation can stay afloat. It's pretty straightforward, really. They give us insane amounts of money, and in exchange we let them make a few "alterations" to our facility. Control point here, Mann Co. Resupply lockers here, a few corresponding paint jobs and bang! More money than you could ever possibly need to finish your ultra-mega-death thing. Sure. But THEN you mercenaries had to show up, didn't you?"

"Okay, calm down there, doc. I—"

"You mercenaries show up and begin fighting battles in our top-secret military research facility! On a regular goddamn basis!"

"Well, it was in the contract with RED and BLU, wasn't it?"

"No, it wasn't in the contract! And we would've pulled out months ago, but the only reason we're still alive is the money RED and BLU are sending us! We barely have time to test the device anymore! We can only clean the scorch marks and bloodstains off the floor, sweep up all the spent cartridges, toss all the corpses into the pit, and then it's time for the next battle!"

"You toss our corpses into the pit when the battles are over?"

"Of course we do! Why do you think the pit's even there?"

"…Ah. That makes…so much sense."

"Well, you know what, Soldier? I've had enough of your explosive tomfoolery. You will not fight any more battles in the Nucleus."

"…Um, talk all you want, doc," the Soldier said, scratching his head underneath his helmet, "but what exactly was your plan? Trap me inside the control point until the next battle starts? That just gives my team an advantage. Starve me to death? If I die, I respawn wherever the next battle takes place. Keep me in here, giving me just enough food and water to keep me alive? Well, then my team will come looking for me, and they'll kick your pasty white ass back to Harvard." The scientist laughed again.

"Oh, no, Soldier. Today, you're going to help us. You're going to further the cause of science. You're going to help us answer the question, 'Can a stable cross-dimensional rift transmit organic matter?'" With that, the Soldier heard footsteps walking briskly away. The Soldier simply stood motionless, stunned.

"…Well…shit," he said. Suddenly, a loud series of otherworldly hums began to emanate from above the control point.

"Final sequence," came the scientist's voice from over the PA system. The Soldier squeezed his eyes shut, preparing for the incoming wrath of science…


The RED Soldier's eyes shot open, and he bolted upright in shock. He had just woken from what had seemed to be a horrible nightmare. Relieved, he leaned over and covered his eyes with his hands.

"Whew…just a bad dream," he thought. He remained sitting there for a moment, simply letting the relief wash over him. Then a thought occurred to him.

"Wait…if I'd just woken up from a dream, I'd be lying in bed back at the base." He uncovered his face and looked up quickly. "I couldn't see a few seconds ago…and I definitely wasn't in the middle of a forest." The Soldier stood up. Near as he could tell, it was nighttime, and there didn't seem to be any signs of human presence in the general area. The Soldier quickly came to the conclusion that he was lost.

"Well, that's just great," he thought to himself. He sighed, adjusted his helm on his head, and did the only thing he could do: started walking.


After a few hours of walking, with the night showing no signs of stopping, the Soldier wasn't expecting anything different. Suddenly, his foot caught on something. He lost his balance, and tumbled face-first to the ground, despite valiantly flailing his arms in an effort to regain it. His helmet tumbled off his head and rolled off into the woods. The Soldier scrambled to his feet, panicking. He charged off after the hat, and quickly picked it up again. Relieved, he let out a huge sigh.

"Don't you ever do that again," he murmured, cradling the helmet in his arms like a baby. Suddenly, he noticed an odd indentation in the ground. He bent down to investigate the strange marking.

"…Is this…a footprint?" he thought to himself. He put his helmet back on his head as he bent down further still, close enough to lick the strange print.

"…No, it can't be a footprint," he concluded, "it's too large for that." He was right there—although the print appeared to have been left by a shoe of some kind, it would have had to have been left by a creature easily ten feet tall. Ten feet tall and very, very heavy. The Soldier got to his feet slowly.

"Well, it doesn't matter," the Soldier thought, straightening his helmet on his head. "The tracks of the giant man are going that way…I'm going this way." True to his word, the Soldier quickly took off in the opposite direction of the tracks. No more thought was given to the tracks that night.


It was now about an hour later. The Soldier hadn't seen any signs of civilization. That was, of course, his goal—find some civilized people who could tell him how to get back to Mann's Land. Perhaps wandering aimlessly hadn't been the best way to go about doing that, but the Soldier didn't have any better ideas. But maybe it had produced results this time. Ahead of him, the Soldier spotted a clearing. The Soldier quickened his pace, and within moments, he'd entered the clearing. He was greeted with a decidedly odd sight.

In the center of the clearing was a gnarled old tree. Someone had tied several bottles of brightly-colored liquid to its branches, and attached what looked like ornamental tribal masks to it. Strangest of all, someone had carved a door into the front of the tree.

"Well, this is…arguably civilized," he thought. "Do I stop here and see if someone's hollowed the tree out?" he thought to himself. "…No…if anyone did live here, somehow, I don't think they'd know how to reach Mann's Land." The Soldier examined the clearing. He noticed a well-worn path leading off further into the forest.

"Well, that's more like it!" thought the Soldier, smiling inwardly. "If I follow this path, I might find some more…definitive civilization." Having thought this, he continued further into the forest, leaving the curious tree behind him.


After a few more hours of walking, the Soldier finally reached the edge of the forest.

"Finally…" he thought to himself, panting heavily. "I haven't done that much walking since the first time I got lost in Steel." Off in the distance, the Soldier spotted what looked to be a town.

"Oh, thank God. Civilization at last." The Soldier took off walking once more, heading towards the distant town. "If I ever see another forest in my life, it'll be too soon. But oh well. No one's going to be awake at this time of night. Once I get into town, I'll need to find a place to sleep. I'll wait until morning to find my way back home."


Unsurprisingly, when the Soldier reached the town, it was empty. No one was outside. After looking around for a few minutes, the Soldier was able to find a building with a basement window. The building itself was quite the eccentric one—a three-story building decorated to resemble some kind of giant pastry, complete with a gingerbread roof. The Soldier paid no heed to this, however—it was the basement he was concerned with. He quickly pried the window open and forced his way into the basement. Once inside, he looked around the room briefly. The room was filled with hundreds of wooden crates.

"Oh, God, no, no, no, please God NO!" the Soldier screamed internally. "…Wait a minute, they're unlocked." He let out a large sigh of relief.

"That was too close," he said aloud. The Soldier looked around the room a bit more closely. Upon closer inspection, the Soldier noticed that the crates were all labeled with pink ink. From what the Soldier could tell, they all contained food—sugar, eggs, apples, and so forth. Having recovered from the shock of what he thought he'd found, he pulled one of the nearby crates over to the wall where he'd entered. He climbed on top of it and closed the window he'd climbed in through. Having done this, he pushed the crate back over to the pile he'd gotten it from. He lay down, leaned against the pile, and shut his eyes. After walking through a dark forest for hours, it was easy for him to fall asleep.


What seemed like moments later, the Soldier opened his eyes again. Morning had arrived, and the sounds of a chattering crowd flowed down through the window into the basement. The Soldier could also hear the sounds of hundreds upon hundreds of hoofbeats. The Soldier got to his feet and stretched out his arms.

"Okay," he thought to himself, stifling a yawn, "there's clearly animals everywhere. Probably some kinda livestock—horses, cows, oxen. Livestock roaming freely in the town square usually means a European country, or a country that still uses the horse-drawn carriage. That or I've been sent into the past again…" The Soldier shuddered. "Well, let's just have a look…" The Soldier grabbed the crate he'd been leaning against and pulled it back over to the window. He quickly climbed on top of it and looked out the window. He simply stared blankly.

"…Why are there…horses everywhere…?"