One week after Artyom resigned on being ranger, he used time to rest in his long time not habited room. Sukhoi told Artyom that his room remained untouched for all six years. Artyom trusted it because everything stood on its place, especially all his pictures on the wall. Artyom was about to go to buy some filters. Good he spared some ammo from missions so he could buy stuff.

He went to the markets in Exhibition and watched what could be useful except for filters.

"50 filters?! Man, are you some rich man?!"

"No, just a former ranger. Thanks." Artyom said and bought filters for 1000 military-grade rounds. His next steps were leading towards the merchant with clothes. He needed to buy suit that would provide him some protection against radiation.

"Ah! Artyom! Haven't seen you for a while in Exhibition! How's your leg by the way?" the merchant asked.

"I'm fine, Yuri. But I am not here forever, you know. Just visiting." Artyom said.

"Snap, I thought we could go on a drink, you know? Hey, Artyom, can I ask you something?"

"Go on." Artyom said and the merchant led Artyom to approach him.

"Is it true that you left rangers?"

"Huh, how come that you know?"

"Nothing passes by my ears! Plus I've heard you from that guy over there." He said and pointed at the other merchant who Artyom bought filters from.

"Well, yeah. I just had enough."

"Right. It can suck sometimes. Well what you need by the way?"

"I want that armor behind you."

"That one? Artyom how much ammo have you got?"

"Enough to pay you. How much you want?"

"Well, 500 rounds?" the merchant said and Artyom spilled the ammo on table. He got his suit, which was exactly only some armor similar to what rangers had. Artyom dressed himself up in the new armor once he got home.

"There is no point of return, Artyom…" Artyom told himself and grabbed his weapon he got from armory. He went towards the office of Sukhoi to say goodbye. The office was open. Artyom was coming towards it, nobody was around so it was a good time to talk to Sukhoi.

"Sukhoi," Artyom said and Sukhoi raised his head from the papers.

"A-Artyom. That uniform, you are-"

"Leaving again?" Artyom sighed, "Yes."

"What is making you to leave, Artyom? You just came back and recovered from broken leg. Why don't you spend some time here with us? Are you returning back to Polis?"

"It's complicated… ah I don't know where to start."

"Just try it."

"I have something to deal with. Outside on the surface."

"Artyom, being outside on the surface is dangerous. You know it, right?"

"That's why I was preparing myself."

"I can see that. What you expect from your journey?"

"I am waiting for the dark ones to come back. I have been waiting for six years and I can't wait."

"The dark ones? Artyom, you are connected to them, right?"

"Yes."

"I always knew that the dark ones are important. They are our descendants and you can talk to them. Artyom, is there some particular cause with dark ones that you cannot wait?" Artyom hesitated, not sure what to say, "I know you since you've been little kid. I am your step-father. You know you can tell me everything." Sukhoi added. Artyom took a deep breath and sighed.

"I… I kind of miss the little dark one…" Artyom mumbled. Sukhoi smiled and stood up from his chair, putting one of his hands on Artyom's head.

"You were never into killing anything which was foreign to you, Artyom. I see you haven't changed since that time." Artyom put Sukhoi's hand away.

"I didn't mean it like-"

"No, Artyom. I know you didn't. I am just glad that you aren't soldier who only says that we should annihilate the dark ones because they are different. You made friend from the little dark one. Didn't you?" Artyom nodded as Sukhoi asked and then left towards the exit of his office.

"Artyom I… I just want you to remember that not depending on what you do, I am proud of being your step-father. Good luck up there, my boy." Sukhoi said and left the room. Artyom was not bounded by anything to go. His next stop was the surface. He was never above his home station though. He has seen most of Moscow during his adventures but never was above his home station.

However, Artyom had a clear plan how to find the little dark one. He knew that the little dark one will no longer be as little as he was six years so there was time for him to grow up. Also he believed that the little dark one is still connected to him and that he can communicate with him on far distances.

Artyom also relied on his instinct. If the connection still worked. He believed that the intuition will bring him to the little dark one. The weather was fine at the beginning but soon as his way through Moscow didn't seem to bring any clues where the dark one could be. Artyom was starting to be desperate. Through three days and nights he travelled from one station to another.

The only thing that changed was that he spent all his ammo on filters and other ammo to his gun. He was becoming poor and yet he didn't find the little dark one. He was tired, hungry and he continued on his journey. His way crossed also Fascists and Bandits which didn't ease the job for him. One day, there was a snow storm above Moscow and Artyom was fatigued the way he needed to kneel.

He knelt in the snow and held both of his forearms with arms crossed.

"L-Little dark one… where are you…?" Artyom looked down at the ground avoiding snow falling at his mask.

"No, Artyom… you have to shape up! He can't be far!" Artyom looked in front of himself and stood up again. He was decided to continue even the weather was about to kill him. The visibility was at zero percent so each step of Artyom meant certain death of falling somewhere. Suddenly he saw some silhouette in front of himself.

"The dark ones…?!" Artyom thought so he started to run.

"Those have got to be the dark ones! I found them!" Artyom was glad so he ran towards it. His euphoria was broken as he found himself being shot in the stomach. The shots were coming right from the silhouette. Artyom was forced to kneel down and hold his bleeding stomach. As he lied on the ground, he watched the silhouette approaching him and it drew figure of a Fascist.

"Gute nacht, Arschloch!" the Fascist said and stomped on Artyom's head. He fell in unconsciousness while everything around him went black.

Few hours later, his eyelids slowly opened and eyes focused on the tunnel area which was illuminated only by a nearby fire. His eyes made his head tilt to the fire and saw group of Fascists sitting nearby it. Artyom found himself tied up to the tunnel wall.

"Where… where am I…" Artyom said hoarsely. The Fascists noticed it.

"Hey! He's coming to himself!" one of them said. All of them came to Artyom.

"Hmm! Ok… why did you take me here?" Artyom said as he struggled.

"Well, we'll get rid of you, don't worry. We just found out that you had some things that will provide us some support in metro and that will please Herr Obersturmbannführer!"

"Oh… yeah? Still not getting why I do have to be tied up, AH!" Artyom said as one of the Nazis touched his wound.

"No worries, Junge. I'm just asking you, do you mind us taking your stuff away?" the Nazi said and pulled out dagger, pressing it against Artyom's neck. Artyom kicked him off and others started to punch him in the stomach.

The Nazi stood up and ran towards Artyom.

"Die in the name of the Fourth Reich!" He shouted and wanted to stab Artyom in his neck. Suddenly giant burst in the tunnel gate made all the Fascists fly away.

"Was ist los?!" One of the Fascists shouted. Artyom's vision was becoming blurry because his stomach was continuously dropping blood. The only thing he could register was time slowing and fast movements through the tunnels. He saw blurry high dark silhouettes and that one of them stood in front of him. Was it a dark one? He couldn't tell.

His eyes closed again before he could find out and so he passed out.