helloooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo bh6 fandom!

sorry i've been gone so long! I've been super busy (and also writing some Macbeth fanfics!)

but do not worry, i am back now! here is my new WWIII story!

i hope you enjoy!


The war began in 2032.

Everyone thought that North Korea would have known better than to attack a country in NATO. But America was under siege, and the opposing army was encroaching quickly on the six major cities in the USA—Washington DC, Los Angeles, Chicago, Houston, New York…

And San Fransokyo.

It was the last world city that hadn't been taken, but everyone knew it would inevitably fall. It was only a matter of time.

Even with the city's vigilantes, Big Hero 6, San Fransokyo didn't stand a chance. North Korea's army was too big, too strong. Big Hero 6 was brave and smart, but even they couldn't do anything against the wrath of North Korea.

They came in July—on Independence Day. How ironic.

Indeed, it would prove to be the very day their independence was taken from them—for with San Fransokyo fell America's autonomy, and there was nothing anyone could do as the people of the city were locked behind iron bars.

Nothing anyone could do…

Except for three unassuming teenagers: one a spy, one a prodigy, one a rebel. Together they would perhaps hold the key to America's survival.

But if they failed, all of NATO was going down with them…


Something's wrong.

I don't know what, but I've had an uncomfortable pull in my gut all morning that's not going away. Usually, that means that something bad is going to happen—but I sometimes don't know what until it actually occurs. I wonder if it has something to do with the war—World War III.

See, something went seriously wrong during the last presidential election. President Cruz's predecessor somehow angered the leaders of North Korea, who had come to the United States for a peace summit. But they and the former president got into some kind of fight about nukes, and the peace summit failed miserably. Now President Cruz—formerly Chief Cruz—is trying to reconcile with them, but nothing seems to be working. The North Koreans have already attacked five other cities in America, but I seem to be the only one who thinks San Fransokyo could be next.

Handing a donut to the next customer, I vaguely hear the news come on. My distracted brain somehow registers that this isn't the normal time of day for the news—that's strange.

Suddenly, a scream, coming from the TV, echoes through the café and my head snaps up. I stare at the TV in horror as Bluff Dunder's panicked voice echoes through the café, screaming that the North Koreans are coming, that they've been sighted flying towards the bridge.

What? What?

I was right. San Fransokyo is under siege.

"Everyone needs to get out!" the news anchor yells. "Civilians, take your families and go!"

Customers are streaming out of the café, screaming and knocking over chairs in their haste. Hiro comes barreling down the stairs, his eyes wide and his super suit hastily put on. He adjusts his helmet and runs over to me, exclaiming, "Take Aunt Cass and go! You have to get out of here!"

"And what do you plan to do?" I hiss, yanking Hiro out of the way of a falling table. "You're not going to fight an entire army by yourself, are you?"

"Of course not! I'll have the rest of Big Hero 6, won't I?"

"You can't all go out there, Hiro!" I tell him, trying not to raise my voice. "You know I believe in you guys, but there are only six of you! Six of you against a whole fricking army! You'll never beat them—they'll kill you, Hiro!"

"But I have to do something," Hiro says emphatically. "I couldn't live with myself knowing that I could have helped and I didn't, Tadashi. You would do the same thing."

I stare at the floor, unexpected tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. "Yes, I would."

Hiro's face is set in a determined expression. "So grab your first aid kit and let's go."


How are there so many of them?

Tadashi and I suspected North Korea was planning to take San Fransokyo, but I didn't think they'd send the whole fricking army. That doesn't seem fair. I mean, it's not the whole army, but it's a heck of a lot of people. Even with all of our weapons, all of our brains, there's no way we could ever beat North Korea. There's just too many of them.

I steer Baymax out of the way of a grenade, hoping against hope that we don't get shot down. If we can just get to that big gun, which is mounted on top of a huge tank, and disable it—

A scream echoes from below, and I recognize Wasabi's voice. I look down to see Tadashi rushing towards him, first aid kit in hand. My brother is bleeding from a gash on his forehead, and I wince on his behalf. I hope no one got hit by any grenades—it sounds like Wasabi might have.

"Hiro!" Tadashi's voice comes over the comm link. "We need Baymax down here!"

"We're trying to take out the big gun!" I shout back. "Hang on!"

"But there's too many wounded, Hiro! The civilians are trying to help, but the Koreans are just cutting them right down!"

"Aren't there any other medics?" I ask, dodging some kind of ammo. I can't keep them all straight.

"Well, of course," Tadashi says, his voice shaking, "but there's more wounded then there are medics!"

"Stay calm, Dashi," I say firmly. "I'll get Baymax to you. I just need to hit that gun a couple times and it should be disabled."

Tadashi sighs. "Alright. I believe in you."

I smile, then cut off the comm link and turn back to Baymax. "Ready, big guy?"

"Warning," Baymax tells me. "Hostile objects in close proximity. I repeat: there are—"

"I know!" I exclaim. "They're everywhere! But we have to get to that gun, Baymax—if they fire that on the city, everyone's going down!"

"I will fly closer to that gun," Baymax declares, and I steer him toward the tank. The North Koreans manning it give shouts of surprise and begin yelling in Korean, which I obviously can't understand. But I can tell from their tone that they do not want us near their weapon.

Oh, and they're pointing it at us.

"Rocket fist!" I scream, and Baymax fires his fist directly into the barrel of the huge, high-tech gun.

"Um," I mumble. "Well. That's…not good."

"Everyone get down!" Tadashi screams, grabbing Wasabi and GoGo by their collars and yanking them to the ground.

But of course, not everyone gets down.

One of the North Koreans lets out a yell, and I somehow manage not to scream as the gun fires, blasting Baymax's rocket fist out of it as well as the massive shell it's supposed to fire. The shell hits the glass front of KreiTech, standing below us, and the whole building explodes.

This time, I do scream—and it's rather embarrassingly high-pitched, but that doesn't matter, because everyone else is screaming, too. And I definitely have a cause to do so.

Baymax and I are flung backward, and my magnets disconnect. Suddenly, I'm flying through the air with nothing to hold me up, and then my world turns into a blur of falling debris and fire.

I slam into the wreckage of KreiTech, and I yelp as I feel metal and glass stab into my skin through my jumpsuit. But my yell is cut off as the rest of the debris crashes down, and everything goes black.

The darkness presses in on me as I gasp for air, trapped under the huge pile of rubble. I can feel hot, sticky blood on my cheek, and I know my visor has probably shattered. I'll have to wait until I get out of here to see if I'm injured anywhere else, though. My thoughts are cloudy and scattered, but I don't think I passed out, so it can't have been that long since the explosion—probably only a few minutes. Still, I have to get out of here.

I struggle furiously, and after several seconds, my head breaks free of the debris and I gasp in air, coughing and choking on the dust. Pulling my broken helmet off, I push the rest of the pieces of metal and concrete off of me to see the battle still going, people screaming at each other and shots firing everywhere.

After a few seconds, I realize that my armor—gauntlets, helmet, and all— is broken in several places, with huge cracks running through the carbon fiber. It's no use now, so I pull if off, leaving myself in nothing but a torn and filthy t-shirt and cargo pants. What am I going to do? How can I stop this?

With my brain, I guess. It's the only weapon I have left now. If I could just think of a way to take out that big gun…

I sit up halfway, dazed and sore. I think my cheek is bleeding, but there's no time to tend to it now. I struggle to my feet, then let out a hiss of pain as my ankle buckles underneath my weight. After rapid inspection, I conclude that it seems like a minor sprain, but a sprain nonetheless. I'm never going to get around on this.

Still, I get to my feet again, testing my ankle gingerly on the rubble. It doesn't give out if I don't put too much pressure on it, so I limp over the pile of debris as fast as I can, searching for Baymax so we can get back up into the air.

I slide down the side of the massive pile of rubble that used to be KreiTech and stop in horror when I see several unconscious—dead?—bodies collapsed on the torn-up ground, both North Korean and American. I really, really hope no one is dead—though that's perhaps too much to hope for, as this is war.

I get down on my stomach, wanting to avoid enemy fire, and start army crawling across the battlefield. Eventually, I find my brother. Tadashi is slumped over Wasabi, and both of them are unconscious—but most definitely breathing. Tadashi's forehead is bleeding and he has a few small cuts and scratches, but I can't see anything worse than that. I hope he's okay.

"Tadashi!" I whisper, shaking my brother's shoulder gently. "Dashi, wake up!"

Tadashi's eyes open halfway and he rolls over, groaning, "Hiro?"

"It's me," I whisper, helping my brother slide off Wasabi. "Are you okay?"

Tadashi sits up and runs his hands over his body, obviously checking for injuries. "I—I think so. Just kinda shaken up."

"Elaborate," I tell him dryly.

"I got thrown by the explosion," Tadashi explains, feeling for Wasabi's pulse. Dashi doesn't show any sign of despair, so I think he must be alive. "And then I just didn't want to get up. I think I kinda blacked out—not unconscious, I just wasn't registering anything. Maybe I was in shock or something. But don't worry, nothing's broken. What about you? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine—" I start, but Tadashi has leaned forward and cupped my face in his hands. "Hiro, you're bleeding! What happened?"

I sigh. "I got thrown off Baymax and buried in the KreiTech debris. I'm okay, I swear."

Tadashi grabs his first aid kit off the ground—surprisingly, it's still intact—and pulls out a roll of gauze and some medical tape. "I know you think you're okay, Hiro, but let me patch up that cut."

He doesn't wait for my permission. Tadashi cuts a piece of gauze off the roll and tapes it onto my cheek—after cleaning the wound with bacitracin, of course.

"Everything else okay?" he asks, ducking as several soldiers run past us, shouting. I give Tadashi a thumbs-up, even though my ankle is killing me, and a skeptical expression flashes across his face. But he turns back to Wasabi, deciding to lift our unconscious friend into a fireman's lift and failing miserably. Tadashi is a big guy, but Wasabi is bigger.

"Hiro," Tadashi gasps, struggling to support Wasabi. "I need you to go find Baymax—he can carry more than I can, and we've got to get these people off the battlefield as fast as possible!"

"Don't worry, I'll find him," I tell my brother, and I army crawl back to the wreckage of KreiTech. It's not long before I see a flash of bright red in the debris, and I know instinctively that this is Baymax.

"Ow?" I whisper, and the robot activates—slowly, but at least he does. Baymax sits up, pieces of metal and concrete sliding off his broken armor.

"Hiro," Baymax says, turning his head to look at me. "I will scan you now. Scan complete. My scan shows that you have various small epidermal abrasions and a grade one tear of your anterior talofibular ligament. These are not serious injuries, but I will bandage your ankle and ice it to alleviate the pain."

"I'm fine," I tell Baymax quickly. "I don't need—"

Baymax scoops me up and sets me down on a large chunk of concrete, gently stretching out my leg in front of me. He pulls a roll of bandaging out of his first aid compartment and then tells me to take off my shoe. I sigh and do so, wincing as I realize that the joint is swelling up worse than before. Baymax gently wraps the self-adhering bandage around my ankle and then clamps his chilly hands around the injury.

"Thanks, buddy," I say hastily, patting Baymax's arm, "but Tadashi told me we have to get all the civilians to safety. I can wait."

"I will help," Baymax says immediately, "but I will help you walk. You are my patient, Hiro, and you should not walk on your injury. It will only make it worse."

He wraps a soft, puffy arm around my shoulders. I sigh but allow Baymax to support me, and we slowly move across the debris, ducking as shrapnel and grenades fly everywhere. The sky has turned a grayish-yellowish-brownish color, shot through with streaks of fire, and the ground is slick with blood in some places, blasted apart in others. I've decided I do not like war.

I need to stop this. I have to help my city. But what can I do?

Then, out of nowhere, I get an idea.

"Help Tadashi," I tell Baymax, breaking away from his grasp. "I need to go take out that big gun."


But I'm already gone, limping as fast as I can toward the North Koreans' largest weapon. Maybe if I approach from behind…

I circle around the polished, high-tech gun, still mounted on its tank, thinking that perhaps the soldiers won't notice me without my armor on. No one's going to care about a scrawny, injured teenager with no weapon whatsoever.

As soon as I'm close to the tank, I pick up a chunk of broken asphalt from the ground and fling it as far away as I can. Several soldiers' heads turn toward the sound, and I creep up on the gun, as close as I can without being seen.

"Hey!" shouts a heavily accented voice. "You! Get away from gun or we shoot!"

Without stopping to think, I hurl my one and only disruptor cube at the gun and run.

The blast still knocks me over, and I skid a few feet across the ground, scraping my elbows. When I come to a stop, I leap up and sprint across the broken asphalt, running as fast as I can on my injured ankle.

I dive into a pile of rubble and look out between two fallen beams, panting and clutching my ankle. From this vantage point, I can see the sleek black gun smoking and ruined, completely destroyed.

I did it. I took out North Korea's largest land weapon.

Now it's a question of the airborne ones…

I catch a glimpse of Fred leaping from building to building in his super suit, shooting fire down at the North Koreans. Honey and GoGo are throwing everything they've got at the opposing side, and the police and small military force are firing their rifles. Fighter jets circle overhead, dropping small grenades and smoke bombs everywhere they go.

But it's clear that North Korea is still winning.

So I have to help.

I tighten the bandage around my ankle and gingerly climb out of the pile of rubble, testing it on the ground. I decide I can walk and cautiously limp back toward where I last saw Tadashi, figuring that I can help him get people to safety—I have no more disruptor cubes, but I could maybe help with the wounded.

"Hiro!" a voice calls, and I turn to see Megan Cruz, my best friend, stumbling toward me. She carries a rifle, and her light brown skin is streaked with dirt and blood. A bandage has been wrapped around her upper arm, and her hair is flying in the wind. I probably don't look much better, now that I come to think of it.

"Megan!" I yelp. "Are you okay? Have you been fighting?"

"Of course I have! I'm not defenseless!"

I back up immediately. "Sorry—I didn't mean—but really, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Hiro," she assures me, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. "What about you? You're limping," she adds as I open my mouth to tell her I'm okay.

"I sprained my ankle," I mumble. "But I'm okay, it's nothing serious. How's the battle going—are we still holding the city?"

"It's not looking good," Megan tells me. "Most of our army is down and we don't have enough medics. Your brother's losing it—it's just him and the regular physicians and nurses."

"That isn't enough," I agree. "Do you know where any more weapons are? I feel like I need to fight with something—I used up my last disruptor cube on that tank."

Megan pulls a dagger—a dagger—out of a sheath on her thigh and hands it to me. "I'm assuming you don't have the faintest idea of how to fire a gun?"

I flush and shake my head.

Together, Megan and I make our way into the thick of the fighting, and I realize that the North Koreans are shooting our fighter jets down. One comes down on the bridge, nearly severing the road, and one plummets into the ocean. I watch a North Korean jet follow it, so I guess we're not completely beaten, but so many more of our jets are being shot down…

Suddenly, I hear a yell of "You!" and whirl around to see a soldier who was guarding the tank earlier pointing his rifle at me. I freeze, my eyes going wide, and Megan shoves me forcefully to the ground and then fires her rifle at the soldier. The bullet hits him in the shoulder and he collapses, clutching at the wound.

"T-thanks," I mumble, still in shock, as Meg helps me to my feet.

"You need to learn how to attack people," she says briskly. "They're trying to kill us, you know."

"But if they're just there—"

"Hiro, that man would have shot you, and he probably wouldn't have missed. If someone is going to attack you, you have to get them first."

I try. As we make our way toward where I think I last saw Tadashi, I slash at several soldiers with the dagger, never aiming to kill or even draw blood if I can avoid it. I just want to make sure they know I can fight.

Suddenly, I hear a loud boom from overhead and look up to see a North Korean fighter jet on fire, nosediving swiftly toward the ground.

"Run!" Megan yells, and she grabs my arm and pulls me through the warring soldiers. The jet's roar is growing louder and louder, and I look over my shoulder to see it nearing the ground.

"Get down!" I scream, and I yank Meg to the asphalt.

A prodigious roar of sound tears through the ash-filled air, and suddenly, I'm flying. I hear Megan shriek—or is it me? I'm probably screaming, too—and then I slam hard into the side of what feels like a car. The impact knocks all the wind out of me as I fall to the ground, trying to protect my head as shrapnel flies through the air.

After several long seconds, I manage to regain my breath and look up, dazed. I can't see through the massive cloud of smoke, but people are screaming and sobbing and still firing their guns at each other.

"Meg?" I call hoarsely, pulling myself up on the door of the car I crashed into. "Where are you? Are you okay?"

"I'm here!" she yells through the smoke. "Follow my voice!"

I do so and immediately run into her, and she throws her arms around me. Surprised, I freeze for a moment, then return the embrace.

"You okay?" Meg asks, stepping back and looking me over. "You're pretty scraped up."

I look down at myself and indeed see several scrapes and cuts, undoubtedly from hitting the asphalt—and maybe little pieces of shrapnel flying through the air. It could be worse, I guess.

"I'm fine," I decide. "What about you?" Megan seems to have sustained about the same amount of abrasions as I have, but none look deep.

"All good," she says shakily. "Nothing broken—surprisingly."

"Yeah," I whisper, my scrapes starting to sting. "That was a pretty big explosion."

We stand there in silence for a few moments as the smoke starts to clear slightly, not wanting to get in the way of any other explosions. But the fighting seems to have stopped—I don't hear it anymore.

Suddenly, I see a colorful shape rising out of the smoke. It looks like a piece of cloth, attached to a pole.

"No," Megan whispers, clutching my hand. "No. No."

I squint through the haze, and then my eyes widen.

It's the flag of North Korea.

They've captured San Fransokyo.