"Prologue to the end"

Disclaimer: I don't own the lore, and the characters of Girls' Frontline, as well as Escape From Tarkov. They both belong to MICA team and BattleState Games respectively. The name of used weaponry as well as equipment belongs to it's rightful owners.

I sat in front of my Inteligence Center, my head resting on my knuckles. Centre was located next to my workbench, map of Woods plastered on the wall in front of me, along with it's markings. I grabbed the nearby pencil and marked a large circle on the samwill, "Sthurman". I will have to deal with him later, only if he wasn't dealt with sooner by someone else. The laptop that was slightly to my right was still alive, and I stored most of my info there.

It all began some years ago. Being part of USEC PMC, I was deployed in Tarkov, what soon was dubbed "The Contract Wars". We were there to provide armed support to TerraGroup's evacuation from the very city as well as destroy the evidence of whatever they did. The Higher-ups didn't care, so we carried out our jobs. We thought of it to be a piece of cake... We were mistaken. As soon as we arrived, we involved ourselves into armed conflict with the other PMC, BEAR. Based on the information I managed to dig up, B.E.A.R.; short for Battle Encounter Assault Regiment, was established by a secret degree of Soviet/Russian goverment. Their goals were clear contradiction to ours, dig up the very same evidence we were trying to destroy. And so, the confrontation was inevetible. We fought over a couple of high-value targets, losing them and re-taking them.

I don't know how long we fought, but I think it was about 2042 AD, maybe 2043 when the city goes off the map. I think they stationed some sort of science crap in order to keep us from re-deploying out of this city. We fought on, "Contract Wars" never stopping until a sudden disapperance of BEARs in 2045 AD. We were victorious, but it was a pyrrithic victory. Our manpower was almost halved by the end, and we lost contact with the outside world. We were left alone in the city of the dead... And Scavengers.

When the blockade began, or maybe even sooner, various individuals fled into city. Anti-social type, criminal, scum of this land. And with lawlessness of the city in full effect, they did what they do best: kill and loot all what lives and breathes. Attacks from these individuals were not only directed on USEC, but on BEAR as well. The city was in full chaos, as if that wasn't apparent.

I think the year is 2062, and My name is Charles, nicknamed by colleages 'Bipolar', an ex-USEC contractor, aged 48 as of now. I've been stranded in this god-forsaken city for God knows how long. My presence in USEC PMC, was a question in all by itself. USEC was a western-based company/contractor, their ranks were filled with ex-Marines, and all those fancy Special Ops from the West, not from Poland whose location is closer to Russia, or whatever it's called now.

I mentioned Poland. Yes, it is my country of birth. Although it's wasn't perfect, it wasn't that bad during childhood and adolescence. I often talked about it with trader nicknamed 'Peacekeeper', back when UNTAR was involved in this mess. Doesn't matter now, all that matters is escaping from this hellhole.

I got up from my table, ending the thoughts and walking over to door. Glancing at the watch on my way to the generator, I deciphered it was early enough to go out. Maybe do that one task I was asked to. I have to look around 'Lazurovy Bereg' complex, maybe that crowbar I have stored will come to usefullness. I turned off the power source, all of my bunker going pitch dark right after. There's no need to use up the fuel, as precious as the resource is in these times. I turned around, and carefully navigated my way to the shelter system's door. I twisted the heavy handle, and opened the door with some amount of difficutly. It cost me an arm and a leg, but the protection it gave was unparamount.

I checked the gear I had on me. AVS Plate Carrier filled with 4 AKMS mags, about 150 spare 7.62x39 PS rounds and another 150 7.62x39, this time one with enchanced penetration, BP. A Salewa first aid kit was tucked into one of the pockets, splints for broken legs were also there. Pockets, one Zarya-3 Stun Grenade and one RGD-5. Backpack was, what my team nicknamed 'Scav backpack', which was a modified knock-off of a MBSS backpack. Helmet on my head was Ops-Core Fast MT with Multi-hit ballistic face shield-visor, a parting gift of sorts (He sold it for cheaper then usual) from the 'Peacekeeper', and it helped me greatly. AK-103, heavily modified rested beside the exit door, and I grabbed it after I opened them first.

Let the sanity contest begin.

A.N: This fanfic can be seen as a spirital succesor to my previous one; I wasn't satisfied with my first attempt.