🔺[WINTER MISSION OUTPOST 3 - BACKSTORY] 🔺 The air is bitterly cold when you step outside the control room, the kind of cold that bites at your skin and makes each breath feel sharp in your lungs. The mountains stretch endlessly around you, blanketed in snow, and the facility-an old Cold War bunker-sits there like a forgotten relic, hidden in the wilderness. It's your second week on this surveillance job, isolated, alone, with nothing but the hum of equipment and the soft static of radio channels to keep you company. Routine has become your only companion. You wake up, check the systems, monitor the radio frequencies once used by espionage teams. It's simple, almost meditative, and that's what you thought you needed-a break from the world. The bunker, closed off for years, is supposedly empty. You're here to maintain the systems, ensure everything’s running smoothly, and watch for any anomalies. But the silence of the place starts to sink in after a while, wrapping itself around you like a heavy coat. Every day blends into the next: checking cameras, adjusting the frequency dials, logging data. Time stretches and bends, the hours slow and unyielding. You don’t mind it at first, the stillness. But then, one night, something changes. You’re monitoring the video feed when you see it-a faint flash of light through the main building's window. It’s quick, almost imperceptible, but there. Your heart skips a beat. A flashlight? Impossible. The bunker had been shut down for over a year. No one was supposed to be here. You reach for the radio, fingers trembling, and make contact with the main station. “This is Operator 1234,” you say, trying to steady your voice. “I’ve seen movement in the main building. A flashlight.” There’s a long pause before the voice on the other end crackles through. “Operator 1234, we are unaware of any personnel still on-site. The facility was closed over a year ago. No activity has been reported.” A chill runs down your spine. Something’s wrong. You try to dismiss the feeling, but the flashlight appears again the next night, moving deliberately inside the building, like someone’s walking around. The sight makes your pulse quicken, and your mind races. Who could it be? What could it be? The next evening, the curiosity grows unbearable. You’ve been staring at the screen for hours, unable to shake the thought that something is out there, inside the bunker. You grab the old keys-keys to the building you’ve been forbidden to enter-and step outside. The cold hits you like a wall, but you press on, your boots crunching on the fresh snow as you make your way up the small hill to the entrance. The door creaks as you unlock it, the air inside colder than you expected. Dust lingers in the corners of the hall, the silence oppressive. You flick on your flashlight, its beam cutting through the darkness, and begin walking cautiously through the hallway, your footsteps echoing on the old tile floor. You make your way down to the lower levels, where the original operations had taken place, where the whispers of the past still seem to linger. It’s then that you hear it: footsteps. Soft but distinct. Moving down the hall toward the stairs leading further below. You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest. The sound is close now-too close. You take a deep breath and start moving toward the noise, hoping to see who-or what-is making it. But as you approach, the footsteps stop. And in the silence, you see it again: the flashlight, moving in the darkness, leading you down the hallway. You follow the light, but as you turn a corner, it vanishes. A shiver runs down your spine. Something doesn’t feel right. You head back toward the stairs, but before you can reach them, the flashlight flares again, just a brief flash, like someone was standing just out of reach. Panic rises in your chest, but you push it down. You try to focus, but your thoughts are scattered. Who is there? Why won’t they respond? In that moment, everything goes dark. The next thing you know, you’re in a hospital room. The sterile scent of antiseptic fills your nose, and you blink against the harsh light overhead. Your head throbs, and there’s a dull ache in your body, as if you’ve been hit by a truck. Slowly, you sit up, your mind foggy. You try to remember how you got here, but it’s a blank. The door opens, and in walks your mission commander. They stand at the foot of your bed, a faint look of concern on their face, but it’s quickly replaced with a professional mask. “You’re awake,” they say, a touch of relief in their voice. “We were worried.” You try to clear your throat, your voice a little too dry. “What happened? How did I get here?” “We couldn’t get through to you on the radio,” the commander explains. “We tried multiple times. We were about to send a team up to check on you when we received an automated alert from the outpost. When we arrived, we found you unconscious, lying next to the desk.” Your mind spins. The last thing you remember is being in the bunker. The flashlight. The footsteps. But there’s a disconnect, something that doesn’t quite add up. “That’s not possible,” you say, trying to gather your thoughts. “I was in the bunker. I saw a flashlight. There was someone there. Someone-or something-was in the building. I-” Your voice falters, the words feeling hollow even as you try to explain. The commander’s gaze hardens. “Operator 1234, the bunker has been sealed for over a year. No one has been inside. The systems are locked down tight. No one could’ve gotten in. It’s not possible.” The way they say it makes you feel small, like you’re telling a story they don’t believe. A story that’s too far-fetched. You fall silent, the weight of their disbelief pressing down on you. You want to argue, to tell them what you saw. But something in their eyes tells you it’s useless. You start to question everything-your mind, your safety, even your own memory. They look at you like you're imagining things, like you’ve gone too far off-track. So, you play along. “Right,” you say, your voice soft. “I must have... been mistaken. It must have been something else.” You feel a tightness in your chest, like you’ve just sealed a door you can never open again. The commander nods, satisfied, but there’s something cold in their expression. “Good. Rest up. We’ll be sending someone to pick you up soon.” You nod, but inside, you’re already dreading the next time someone asks you to return to the outpost. Something in that place feels wrong now, and no matter how much you try to forget, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re not safe. The mountain outpost calls to you again, but this time, you don’t know if you’ll ever want to answer.
This Native Floridian loves the interior design. I do like winter scenery! But from the inside! If I'm assigned here, I'll need 1 or 2 co-outposters to do the outside work because Unless The Yeti gets inside, I'm not going out unless the air is still and calm!!!!!! Great post!!!!!!
Hello Outposters, can you see the flashlight? Read the story for more.. :) PS: For those interested - the live wallpaper is in my Patreon shop! www.patreon.com/AmbientOutpost/shop/winter-mission-outpost-3-4k-21-9-ultra-1-643697?source=storefront
61% through my deep learning course. Getting colder here in the Nordics. Yesterday was 8 degrees. Gonna try to find research lab that wants to let me do a PhD in machine learning soon, writing some letters as of this moment. Thanks as always for these ambient soundscapes.
Hi Ambient Outpost... love this. Please may you be able to do more of your videos with no music? I love these ones with music, but I practice late at night and love to hear just the snowstorm or rain etc so I can still hear my guitar etc. If not, no worries and still really appreciate your work. Good heath to you and good luck. Cheers.
Can you post these images you've created to a Pinterest or a Tumblr or something? I want to steal them all for computer and laptop backgrounds. Serious question. Or email them to me??
![BLACK OPS Sites 2 [ALONE] Dark Ambient Focus Music | 21:9 Ultra Wide 4K](http://i.ytimg.com/vi/Ebh-PxF2Nrg/mqdefault.jpg)
🔺[WINTER MISSION OUTPOST 3 - BACKSTORY] 🔺
The air is bitterly cold when you step outside the control room, the kind of cold that bites at your skin and makes each breath feel sharp in your lungs. The mountains stretch endlessly around you, blanketed in snow, and the facility-an old Cold War bunker-sits there like a forgotten relic, hidden in the wilderness. It's your second week on this surveillance job, isolated, alone, with nothing but the hum of equipment and the soft static of radio channels to keep you company.
Routine has become your only companion. You wake up, check the systems, monitor the radio frequencies once used by espionage teams. It's simple, almost meditative, and that's what you thought you needed-a break from the world. The bunker, closed off for years, is supposedly empty. You're here to maintain the systems, ensure everything’s running smoothly, and watch for any anomalies. But the silence of the place starts to sink in after a while, wrapping itself around you like a heavy coat.
Every day blends into the next: checking cameras, adjusting the frequency dials, logging data. Time stretches and bends, the hours slow and unyielding. You don’t mind it at first, the stillness. But then, one night, something changes.
You’re monitoring the video feed when you see it-a faint flash of light through the main building's window. It’s quick, almost imperceptible, but there. Your heart skips a beat. A flashlight? Impossible. The bunker had been shut down for over a year. No one was supposed to be here.
You reach for the radio, fingers trembling, and make contact with the main station.
“This is Operator 1234,” you say, trying to steady your voice. “I’ve seen movement in the main building. A flashlight.”
There’s a long pause before the voice on the other end crackles through.
“Operator 1234, we are unaware of any personnel still on-site. The facility was closed over a year ago. No activity has been reported.”
A chill runs down your spine. Something’s wrong. You try to dismiss the feeling, but the flashlight appears again the next night, moving deliberately inside the building, like someone’s walking around. The sight makes your pulse quicken, and your mind races. Who could it be? What could it be?
The next evening, the curiosity grows unbearable. You’ve been staring at the screen for hours, unable to shake the thought that something is out there, inside the bunker. You grab the old keys-keys to the building you’ve been forbidden to enter-and step outside. The cold hits you like a wall, but you press on, your boots crunching on the fresh snow as you make your way up the small hill to the entrance.
The door creaks as you unlock it, the air inside colder than you expected. Dust lingers in the corners of the hall, the silence oppressive. You flick on your flashlight, its beam cutting through the darkness, and begin walking cautiously through the hallway, your footsteps echoing on the old tile floor. You make your way down to the lower levels, where the original operations had taken place, where the whispers of the past still seem to linger.
It’s then that you hear it: footsteps. Soft but distinct. Moving down the hall toward the stairs leading further below. You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest. The sound is close now-too close. You take a deep breath and start moving toward the noise, hoping to see who-or what-is making it. But as you approach, the footsteps stop. And in the silence, you see it again: the flashlight, moving in the darkness, leading you down the hallway.
You follow the light, but as you turn a corner, it vanishes. A shiver runs down your spine. Something doesn’t feel right. You head back toward the stairs, but before you can reach them, the flashlight flares again, just a brief flash, like someone was standing just out of reach. Panic rises in your chest, but you push it down. You try to focus, but your thoughts are scattered. Who is there? Why won’t they respond?
In that moment, everything goes dark.
The next thing you know, you’re in a hospital room. The sterile scent of antiseptic fills your nose, and you blink against the harsh light overhead. Your head throbs, and there’s a dull ache in your body, as if you’ve been hit by a truck. Slowly, you sit up, your mind foggy. You try to remember how you got here, but it’s a blank.
The door opens, and in walks your mission commander. They stand at the foot of your bed, a faint look of concern on their face, but it’s quickly replaced with a professional mask.
“You’re awake,” they say, a touch of relief in their voice. “We were worried.”
You try to clear your throat, your voice a little too dry. “What happened? How did I get here?”
“We couldn’t get through to you on the radio,” the commander explains. “We tried multiple times. We were about to send a team up to check on you when we received an automated alert from the outpost. When we arrived, we found you unconscious, lying next to the desk.”
Your mind spins. The last thing you remember is being in the bunker. The flashlight. The footsteps. But there’s a disconnect, something that doesn’t quite add up.
“That’s not possible,” you say, trying to gather your thoughts. “I was in the bunker. I saw a flashlight. There was someone there. Someone-or something-was in the building. I-” Your voice falters, the words feeling hollow even as you try to explain.
The commander’s gaze hardens. “Operator 1234, the bunker has been sealed for over a year. No one has been inside. The systems are locked down tight. No one could’ve gotten in. It’s not possible.”
The way they say it makes you feel small, like you’re telling a story they don’t believe. A story that’s too far-fetched. You fall silent, the weight of their disbelief pressing down on you.
You want to argue, to tell them what you saw. But something in their eyes tells you it’s useless. You start to question everything-your mind, your safety, even your own memory. They look at you like you're imagining things, like you’ve gone too far off-track.
So, you play along.
“Right,” you say, your voice soft. “I must have... been mistaken. It must have been something else.”
You feel a tightness in your chest, like you’ve just sealed a door you can never open again.
The commander nods, satisfied, but there’s something cold in their expression. “Good. Rest up. We’ll be sending someone to pick you up soon.”
You nod, but inside, you’re already dreading the next time someone asks you to return to the outpost. Something in that place feels wrong now, and no matter how much you try to forget, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re not safe.
The mountain outpost calls to you again, but this time, you don’t know if you’ll ever want to answer.
Turns out it was just Dave, the temp security guard they got in to replace you and he got lost 😉
@@Tyblubearboy lol good ole Dave getting lost as usual.
The warm yellows inside contrasting with the cold blues of the snow storm really make this feel cozy, despite how vaguely ominous it is.
Agreed
This is very pleasing to my Nordic soul.....long live winter!
This Native Floridian loves the interior design. I do like winter scenery! But from the inside! If I'm assigned here, I'll need 1 or 2 co-outposters to do the outside work because Unless The Yeti gets inside, I'm not going out unless the air is still and calm!!!!!! Great post!!!!!!
As a GIS professional making a lot of maps in my day to day work, I can appreciate the display on the monitors :)
Saw the flashlight!
Hello Outposters, can you see the flashlight? Read the story for more.. :) PS: For those interested - the live wallpaper is in my Patreon shop!
www.patreon.com/AmbientOutpost/shop/winter-mission-outpost-3-4k-21-9-ultra-1-643697?source=storefront
61% through my deep learning course. Getting colder here in the Nordics. Yesterday was 8 degrees. Gonna try to find research lab that wants to let me do a PhD in machine learning soon, writing some letters as of this moment. Thanks as always for these ambient soundscapes.
Thank you! :)
i love it, it gives me chills, i hope there will be more snow this winter, its the best weather for me
This gave me chills, in the best way 🌀
One of your best ones brother. Visually and sonically
Thanks for another amazing upload. You really are spoiling us with the frequency of releases🎉
Hi Ambient Outpost... love this. Please may you be able to do more of your videos with no music? I love these ones with music, but I practice late at night and love to hear just the snowstorm or rain etc so I can still hear my guitar etc. If not, no worries and still really appreciate your work. Good heath to you and good luck. Cheers.
One is dropping today! :)
New favorite channel. The vibes are unreal
Glad you enjoy it! :)
All of them are amazing. Can you create just the ambience, without music?
Another awesome video, thank you!
Looks like my home office!
Love it !!!
How do you create these vids? Is it an AI generated picture? Then AI created video? I love it I want to make my own for fun!
Love these, so well done. Just got through your Dead Cities ones. Do you have any with the occasional sound of a keyboard being used?
Thank you! Hm check out my desert outpost series 1-4, I guess at least the first one should have occasional keyboard typing, enjoy!
MUITO BOM!!!
👋
What happened to Winter Mission Outpost 2?
Can you post these images you've created to a Pinterest or a Tumblr or something? I want to steal them all for computer and laptop backgrounds. Serious question. Or email them to me??
they're all on my ko-fi / patreon, have a look!
Is that a map of China/southeast Asia to the left of the window?
radio chhatter?
is this the view from the other end of th-cam.com/video/akUMGyA86wE/w-d-xo.html
it's a similar cold war facility but located somewhere else
Muy mal ya gano nombre muy difícil espieza