Chapter One

Betrayal

The forest was quiet, and it bothered him. When the enemy made noise, it is easier to pinpoint their location, and therefore track their movements. But when all was silent, anyone could be hiding behind one of the many natural obstructions that surrounded them. But he was a professional; should anything happen, he would deal with the situation accordingly. But he still kept his senses on alert, listening for any sign of a possible threat.

The jungles of Tselinoyarsk were thick and lush, with tall trees and bushes all around; a perfect place for an enemy to hide. He turned around to make sure that he wasn't being followed, and proceeded to the bridge that crosses the river; Sokolov was most likely waiting there, for either the GRU commander, or himself. He was spot-on, as the scientist was waiting by a tree, darting his head around like a dog does when it hears a faint noise. Snake slowly approached the scientist, who looked at him with relief.

"Are you okay?" he asked the Russian man.

"Those men were from the OCELOT unit!" Sokolov replied, disregarding the CIA agent's question.

"Spetznaz?"

"Yes," he said. "…The best that GRU has to offer." His eyes began darting around. "They're coming for me. I'm finished!"

"Calm down," Snake said, rougher than he meant to. "I'll get you out of here, I promise." He put a consoling hand on the Russian's shoulder. "And we've got some of the best backup we could ask for."

Sokolov's face hardened as he looked up beyond Snake. "Look!" he said, pointing. Snake turned his head as a loud boom echoed across the river canyon. He strained his eyes to see what looked like a large tank at the top of the canyon, about a mile away. He pulled out his binoculars to get a closer look, and confirmed his suspicions.

"Is that what they were making you build?" he asked Sokolov.

"Yes," he said, walking next to Snake. "The 'Shagohod,' or 'The Treading Behemoth,' is a tank that can launch nuclear IRBMs."

"That thing can launch nuclear missiles from that terrain?" Snake said surprised, only now noticing the precarious stance that the Shagohod was perched; it was right on the edge of the cliff, smoke still flowing from its incredibly-large barrel.

"Oh yes," the scientist said, a hint of pride in his voice. "And without the help of friendly units, to boot."

"A nuclear-equipped tank capable of operating solo…" Snake trailed off, knowing full well what this would mean for the Cold War. "Is that thing finished?" he asked.

"No," Sokolov said. "This is only the end of Phase One. It won't be truly finished until we complete Phase Two."

"Phase Two?" Snake inquired.

"It is the weapon's true form," he began. "If it is completed, and Volgin gets his hands on it, it will mean the end of the Cold War… and then the age of fear will truly begin."

"A world war…" Snake said ponderously.

"I had no choice but to cooperate!" the scientist said, pacing in circles. "…I didn't want to die! I wanted to see my wife and child again in America." He turned to Snake. "Please, take me to America, quickly!" He looked up at the behemoth on the mountain. "They cannot complete it without my help."

"Got it," Snake said with finality. "Let's go,"

He drew his weapon, a Mark-22 "Hush Puppy" tranquilizer gun with suppressor, and a combat knife alongside it, and slowly began walking across the bridge. He didn't look down, but apparently, Sokolov did not allow himself the same luxury. He heard the Russian whimper behind him, and assumed that he had looked down.

The mist from the river was growing in intensity, so much that he could barely see the other side of the bridge. He was half way across when he saw a figure coming towards them. He raised his weapon and got into position, ready to incapacitate whoever the unknown person was. After a moment, however, his eyes widened in surprise.

"…Boss?"

The Boss wore a HALO jumper's uniform, much like the one he had changed out of when he touched down. She had short blonde hair held back with a headband, and carried two weapon's boxes in her hands; one long, and one short. The Boss then promptly dropped one down, causing the bridge to shake. She then dropped the other, and he heard Sokolov fall down, whimpering. The bridge eventually settled, and The Boss began speaking.

"Good work," she said. Then, she added, "…Jack."

"What are you doing here?" he asked. It was indeed a surprise to find his old mentor in Tselinoyarsk with him.

"Sokolov comes with me," she said. As she spoke, he heard something in the distance. It sounded like humming, growing in intensity as the seconds ticked by.

Suddenly, the trio was swarmed by a mass of hornets. He didn't know where they came from, but was dead-set on keeping them off of him. He brushed them off when they landed, but they would only be replaced with new ones. He heard Sokolov panicking behind him, whereas The Boss herself made no move to stop the swarm. Only then did he realize that the hornets were not targeting her at all.

"Wah!" he heard Sokolov yell. He spun around to see the Russian being hoisted up by a man flying with the swarm of hornets. The two were brought into a helicopter that had most likely entered the area while the hornets covered its sound. When Sokolov was aboard the chopper, the swarm of bees dissipated, and only then did he see the red star of the Red Army on the side of the vehicle.

He looked back at The Boss, who spoke to the chopper. "My friends… let us fight together again! Now that all five of us are together, it's time we go to the depths of Hell itself."

As she spoke, it began to drizzle. She smiled. "It's raining blood… is he crying?" Snake was baffled, but thought he saw the silhouette of a figure nodding next to her. She suddenly darted her head around, as if she saw the silhouette as well.

Behind her, he saw a tall, buff man in a military trenchcoat walk across the bridge, each step rattling the bridge with slight tremors. His fsce was broad, and was decorated with fierce tattoos. He approached the two, and stood behind The Boss; Snake recognized the man as Colonel Volgin himself.

What's The Boss doing with Volgin, he asked himself.

"Ah, what a joyful scene," Volgin said sarcastically, in a deep voice.

"Colonel Volgin," she said.

"Welcome to my country," Volgin said, "and to my unit."

"Commander, what is this?" Snake inquired.

The Boss began walking closer. "I'm defecting to the Soviet Union," she said. "Sokolov is a little gift for my new hosts."

"Recoiless nuclear warheads," the Colonel said. "These will make a fine gift for me." As he spoke, he hefted the longer box on his shoulder, as if it weighed nothing.

"This can't be happening," Snake said, trying to keep his cool.

Volgin looked at Snake. "Who is he?" he asked. "Another one of your disciples? Are we taking him with us?"

"No," she replied. "This one is still just a child; too pure for us Cobras." She turned back to Snake. "He still hasn't found an emotion to carry into battle."

Snake raised his weapon at his old master. "What are you talking about?"

The Boss stepped closer. "Think you can pull the trigger?" Before he could react, she grabbed the gun in one hand, and shoved her elbow into Snake's chest, sending him to the floor of the bridge. She then pulled back on the weapon's recoil mechanism, detaching it from the weapon, and tossed the pieces into the liver below.

He quickly got back up, and got into fighting position. He swung a fist, which was caught and twisted around. His arm was twisted, rendering him immobile, and The Boss shoved her elbow into his, bending his arm backwards. Snake cried out in pain, and slumped back onto the floor of the bridge.

"He's seen my face," Volgin said from the other side of the bridge. "We can't let him live." Snake saw sparks fly off the Colonel's coat as he stepped towards Snake. "If Khrushchev finds out about this, we're finished. He must die."

"Wait," The Boss said. Snake looked up at her. "He's my apprentice; I'll take care of him." Volgin crossed his arms in disappointment. Snake got up on his knees, and looked up at The Boss, his former mentor. "Jack… you can't come with us." She extended a hand out to him, which he took. She then flung him over the edge of the bridge, sending him tumbling down into the river.

Water filled his lungs as he hit the water screaming. He was tossed and turned by the current of the water, not knowing which way was up. After a minute, he finally broke the river, and looked around his surroundings. He had flown downstream, and saw an approaching riverside. He used his feet and his good arm to swim to shore, and pulled himself out of the water.

He leaned against a tree, panting hard. He looked down at his blood-soaked camouflaged jumpsuit. He undid the zipper at the top, revealing his bare chest to the air. He examined his body, and found several lacerations and bruises.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a suture, and began sewing up the cuts. After that was done, he pulled a stiff bar and bit onto it. He grabbed his dislocated arm, and flung it back into place with an audible and stomach-clenching crack. He groaned through the bar, and then spat it out. After applying a splint to his arm, he sat there, waiting for someone to retrieve him. After a minute, he heard helicopters overhead. When he looked, though, he saw they were Soviet choppers.

"Well, well, well," said a mysterious voice. "A Snake, one of the world's most feared predators, caught and discarded like a common insect. What a shame."

"Who said that?" he called, looking around for the source of the voice. He found none, however, and decided to inquire further. "Who are you?"

"Me?" the voice asked. "You mean you've never heard of me? Well, I can't say that I'm surprised; you don't exactly get out much, do you?"

He furrowed his brow. "What do you want with me? Why are you here? Are you with Volgin?"

"My, so many questions," the voice said. "Well, seeing as how it won't matter, I may as well tell you." He heard footsteps, and turned his head to see a KGB operative in green fatigues and a black mask on. He carried not the usual AK-74u, but instead carried a stick that curved curiously. Snake froze when the operative turned towards him. He began approaching closer, until he was mere feet from Snake. He knew that he couldn't do anything, and so did the operative.

He began to speak. "Let us start with your last question, shall we?" The voice was coming from the KGB. "No, I am not with Volgin. I hardly think he's worthy of working with me; he is, in layman's terms, a thug. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't still fear me."

"Who are you?" Snake persisted.

The man seemed to make a disappointed noise. "So many questions, and yet you have given me no answers. That hardly seems fair, now doesn't it? Then again, I'm not exactly known for playing fair in the first place, so I suppose I shall play your game. I am chaos, personified. Does that ring a bell?"

Snake raised an eyebrow. "You're one of the Cobras?"

"For an elite master of espionage," the man began, "you sure aren't that bright. I told you that I don't work for Volgin. I am in every way his superior, and I plan on usurping that brute from his throne as soon as I can."

Snake relaxed slightly, but not entirely. "So who are you?"

"No no," he said, like a mother would reprimand a toddler. "I've answered some of your questions, now I want you to answer mine. Now, what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immoveable object?"

Snake was thrown off guard. "What? How am I supposed to know?"

"Hmm… very well then, I will dumb it down for you. What is it called when a butterfly in Japan causes a hurricane in America?" When Snake didn't respond, the man facepalmed. "What just happened to you not ten minutes ago?"

"I… was betrayed," Snake said solemnly.

"Well yes," the man said, "but that's not what I meant. Very well, I will answer for you." Suddenly, the man pulled off his mask, to reveal something truly surprising, and frightening at the same time; the man had the exact same face as Snake, down to every last detail.

"The answer," the man said in Snake's voice, "is Chaos."

The sky behind Snake's doppelganger flashed a brilliant white, and he saw a mushroom cloud emerge.

"And I," the figure said, smiling, "am Chaos personified." He was engulfed by the blast of nuclear radiation, and he blacked out.

When Snake woke up, he found that he was still leaning back on a tree. However, the landscape around him had changed; the river in front of him was no more, leaving a dry riverbed. He looked around, confused, until he remembered the events prior to his blackout.

That nuclear explosion must have dissolved the water, he reasoned with himself. But then how are the trees not bare? I was very close to the blast, how am I still alive?

Then, another thought occurred to him. Who was that man?

He wasn't going to get any answers just laying down, so he stood up. His body was still sore, and he felt the scabs around his sealed lacerations break. He ignored the light trickle of his own blood, and tried to get a feel for his surroundings.

The forest seemed… different. There were trees aplenty, yes, but the trees were not of the same specimen. As a matter of fact, the flora seemed completely different from before. The sky was also a bright blue, making him question just how long he was unconscious.

Maybe the radiation caused mutations in the plants… I wonder how it may have affected me.

He began following the empty riverbed for a few hours until the sky turned a deep red, constantly surveying his surroundings for anything recognizable. Soon, he began feeling the clutch of hunger grasp his gullet; he needed food. He continued to walk, until he reached a dirt road.

Cautious, he followed the road from the trees. He observed that the tracks along the road were freshly-dug. They looked to him like hoof-prints. Maybe I'm close to a rural town.

Finally, the trees broke, revealing miles of open plains. He stayed in the forest, and surveyed the area with his binoculars; one of the few things salvaged by the incident. His eyes rested on a small village in the distance. Upon closer inspection, he saw people moving about; civilization.

He stuck to the trees, and slowly circuited around the village until he was at the point of the tree line closest to the town; the ordeal had taken him another hour, the sky now having turned black. From his position, he could see closer the inhabitants of the small village. What he saw was mildly disturbing.

There's an awful lot of horses for such a small town. He saw one horse go into a house, and he chuckled to himself. They're not very well trained, either. Though what bothered him the most was the lack of people. No one seemed to be shepherding the animals, therefore letting them roam free and do as they wish. Maybe the place was harmed by the blast. The horses could've moved in after all the humans died. But then how did I not die with them?

He broke from the tree line, and darted for an alleyway between two houses. He paused as two horses passed his location, and he peaked his head out to observe. The horses themselves were of every color in the spectrum, which hurt his eyes. Perhaps the blast had more of an effect than I thought. He even saw a horse with an unusual growth on its head. Hmm, if I had a weapon, I'd put the poor thing out of its misery.

When no one was looking, he darted from the alleyway and ducked into another across the street. From here, he could see several more intricate structures that had eluded him previously. He saw ornate buildings with intricate scaffoldings and designs, almost out of a fairytale book. He saw even more horses walking about, some looking like they were conversing with each other.

He pushed the thought from his head. Horses don't talk. He ducked back from the alley, and proceeded to travel through the network of alleyways, until catching sight of a large tree above the horizon of rooftops. He proceeded towards the leafy beacon until he broke the line of buildings, revealing what he had been moving towards.

He had reached a sort of Town Square. At its center was a statue of a winged and horned horse, and at the other end was an incredibly large tree. Only he saw windows, a door, and several other unnatural attachments to the trunk and canopy.

Impressive camouflage, he noted, but useless in the center of a township like this. He strained his eyes to see if anyone was watching him. Even the horses seemed to have finally left, which made him wonder where they all could've gone. Shrugging the curiosity from his mind, he bolted for the statue, and then, to the tree. It took him a full eight seconds to reach it.

He flattened himself on the side of the house, and looked once more around the square. When nothing was there, he peered into the window. No one was there, and no source of light could be found, so he began scaling the side of the tree, using the window sill as a primary foothold.

Half way to the top, he could only use the grooves in the bark as handholds, which were too small for his feet. He ended up carrying himself up with only his arms. The added strain, combined with his growing hunger, began fatiguing him. He reached another window towards the top when he began panting hard. He was surprised to find the window was unlocked, and he pushed the window open.

He vaulted himself through the window, and landed on the balls of his feet, making virtually no noise whatsoever. The room was dark, but the night had given his eyes time to adjust to the darkness, and be surveyed the room.

There was a bed next to the window, aligned with a wall to his left. On the other side, there was a door, and a large rug adorned the floor. A stool was next to the bed, with several books stacked on top of it. He found a dog bed near the foot of the bed. The room was fairly empty.

He sniffed, and a not-unpleasant smell filled his nostrils; it smelled like lavender. He sat on the bed, his eyes drooping. He yawned once, and allowed himself to fall back onto the bed, falling into a deep sleep.