Disclaimer this lovely little chapter is a rewrite of the original. This is being written because the original version of this was way to short, and poorly written for my new taste. TLDR the original was UUUUUUUUGLY. Now unto the actual content, the only part that anyone besides the original five followers actually cares about.

Artyom stood solemnly on the highest point of Ostankino tower, the wind howling around him like the sorrow in his heart as he looked at the creature in front of him, watching it breathing it's last before him. It was one of the creatures known as the Dark ones, the very same creatures he had set out to destroy not more than a week prior. Now one of them lay dead before him, and all he could feel was sorrow.

In his fool's journey he had been so certain in his goals, that it was the right thing to do. He had left his home to besiege Polis for aid, and when they denied he had aided the Spartan rangers in finding the D6. He climbed the tower carrying what he thought was the last hope of humanity on his shoulders. He fought off the desperate last assault of the Dark one who had followed him up the tower. He never truly doubted himself until it, on its deathbed had said but three words. "We want peace!"

That's all it took. In the last seconds before the launch that would forever wipe the threat to humanity's survival from the world, he took aim and fired…

At the targeting system.

Before his very eyes the machine tumbled down the side of the tower. His revolver, his constant companion fell from his hands as he looked down upon them. What had he done! That was the only chance to save his home.

As he looked up to the world around him it faded from his sight, the tower, the sky, even the stale, filtered, smell of the air faded around him replaced with a sight he never thought he'd see again. The sky was a clear blue, nary a cloud in sight as he looked to the sight in front of him, an endless sea of green in the background. none of this mattered however compared to the beautiful sight in front of him, his mother's face. He finally managed to find something to say, but all he could find was naut more then three words "Mom, I'm scared."

Scared of the of the future, scared of what he had done, and scared of saying goodbye. A single tear fell from his eyes as she wrapped her arms around him and said the words he had missed for so long.

"Artyom, don't be afraid. There is nothing to be afraid of now." The look in her eye held no anger, no fear, nor any form of judgement.

As the scene began to fade he wept, his soul laid bare. he looked to the new dark one that had appeared before him as he fell to his knees. His mother's face, a sight he said time and time again that he would sell his soul for, at any place, at anytime, had been brought back to him. he gave a mirthful chuckle, n a way he supposed, he did.

Stairs, by god colonel Miller hated stairs. He hated them before the apocalypse, and he hated them now. A stabbing pain worked its way through his side as he walked the thirtysomething flights of stairs down Ostankino. Leaning heavily on the arm of the ranger next to him he walked, he walked and he prayed.

He prayed for the boy named Artyom, alone at the top of the tower to complete the mission so many had died for.

He met the boy but three days ago. He remembered his first thoughts as Ulman dragged him into his office being that the boy looked like hell. When he had fallen over in front of him after handing him Hunters token he had been wrought with concern for the boy, said boy being not much older than his currently AWOL daughter.

The reason for the boys episode had gone unexplained after a trip to the Polis infirmary, but only served to give weight to his story.

The Dark ones, creatures taller than any man, with jet black skin, creepier than a person turned inside out, and worse yet able to kill a man without even touching him.

When he had taken this news to the counsel the boy was dismissed, and he had been made a laughingstock for supporting his claims. He was beyond furious, nigh outraged at their reaction. Here before them had come a boy who had gone through the very pits of hell to beseech them for aid, and what had the fat pigs so ignorant as to be incapable of even pointing out the business end of a gun do? Shove their collective heads so far up their asses they could have reached the surface.

"Colonel Miller Sir?" His impromptu crutch chimed in. "Do you think he can do it? I mean no offense sir, but he's just a boy"

"I don't know my friend I don't know." He knew he shouldn't say that, a leader cannot express doubt in front of his men, but at this point he didn't know what to believe. Could the boy finish walking the path Hunter had set him out on? He thought as he was laid down while the remainder of his men attempted to flip the truck upright.

His answer came sooner than he thought in the form of a loud metallic crash.

He and two of the rangers who had finished lifting the truck turned around to see what had made the noise. What they saw was the horrific sight of the targeting system, turned into a pile of useless scrap. The Only targeting system for the D6 ballistic missiles was now a hunk of junk in front of him.

"Colonel Miller sir," Ulman called on his headset. Unconcealed panic in his voice. "We lost contact with Artyom. What's going on down there."

"Ulman I'm sorry my friend. Artyom is gone," Was the only reply Ulman received, an unconcealed finality permeating the statement.

"Ha, ha, good one colonel….You're not joking are you," the comedian of the group sobered instantly. "Damn it! Damn it, damn it, damn it! Pavel, Danilla, Stephen, now Artyom! Why the fuck do people keep dying on me?" he swore over the radio.

"Don't start dividing my gear up just yet" a voice came over the radio.

A beat passed

"Holy shit!" Came Ulman's voice over the radio "Ha Ha I knew he was alive! Boris. pay up!

Now this is something I'm not disgusted at posting. Now if I could actually crank these out at a decent pace. That. Would. .