After learning about their two newest members of the group, Artyom felt disturbed knowing that the scarred man in the shades used to be a famous man before the war. However, his reasons to remain was to spite the very man who built the Sierra Madre in the first place. As for Christine, she was part of an organization within the Brotherhood of Steel, but what reason would she have to come to the Sierra Madre.

While Veronica was assisted by Pavel for sign language or his best attempts at it, the entire party remained at the fountain. Until the situation was ready for everyone to meet with Father Elijah, they couldn't proceed any further.

Cass sat on the fountain as she stared at the gates leading out of the villa. With little to do with the others, Artyom took his seat beside her. "It's just walking distance away." She commented. "The only thing keeping me back is that old man like a father keeping her virgin strapped to a chair."

He smiled at her sense of humor. "Not the way I would put it, but seeing how we're stuck here. I suppose it will have to do. If we continue helping that old man, maybe he'll let us leave."

"That is a big fucking if. I don't know about you, but putting my trust in that old man is not going to happen. For all we know, he'll have to blow our heads open just after he gets his treasure."

"It's a possibility, not a guarantee. That man, I have a gut feeling he won't let us go so easily." He answered.

Then the woman's tone felt saddened. "Maybe this is the reason why my dad didn't come back after all of these years." She commented. "He came all this way in the wasteland, only to go missing and maybe die. Perhaps I should make it quick and meet him right now."

"Don't talk like that. Maybe it's the collar itching your neck. You wouldn't risk the lives of the others just for your own sake."

"Why not? You and Pavel are stuck here because of Angelique and I. We're holding you back." Cass replied. "I definitely wonder if there is an afterlife if I try."

Common sense and experience began to take over. "I've been there." Artyom began. "It's not a nice place to be there."

"Hold up-you're saying you've been to the afterlife?"

"It was only for a moment, but it's not hard to forget that moment. During my first time outside of my home station, I had a guide with me who was leading to Prospekt Mira. However, we stumbled into a place full of corpses. I've seen my share of fighting before, but this was different."

"How different is it really?"

"My home is occasionally attacked by mutants, but the creatures always mutilate the bodies when they eat. The bodies didn't have a single scratch and neither did they have a single bullet spent. After I looted what I could off of them, my guide and I were fainting for some odd reason." Artyom answered. "Then we were brought before the door. I don't know which door it was, but the bodies of the stalkers before us were untouched as if they died a few hours ago."

"Maybe it was a dream, nothing too serious?" Cass reasoned. "For all you know, you may have been seeing shit."

He scoffed at the thought. "I thought the same, but looking back makes me wonder. Remember the guide I had? We agreed to help me reach to Polis if I made sure that my resistance to anomalies would protect him as well." The stalker stated. "I wish it was complete bullshit, but what we faced there was different. Bourbon and I agreed that what happened to us was weird and real."

"You really got to see the other side. What was it like? Not everyone can say they've been there unless they're a delusional knucklehead high on chems. Now I find it hard to believe you, but once you showed me the Dark fellows I don't know whether I should trust your word about that."

"It is true." He said firmly. "Had the Dark Ones not pulled us out, I feared the great door would have taken me like those other stalkers."

"You're telling me this so I don't off myself."

"Having the hope you'll be on the best side of the afterlife is different than being enthusiastic about embracing death, only for those expectations never being met."

"You don't want me to die."

"Yes."

The caravanner smiled. "Lots of guys would love to be in your position."

"How so?"

"Trust me, I know. A romantic would love to be the one to rescue his gal from her asshole."

"I don't understand what you're talking about?" He wondered. "Is it something about your culture?"

Then her smile disappeared. "Nevermind, we should ask Angelique when do we get to the next step."

Shoes clicked at each step as the… inhabitant of this place stepped forward to join them. "Pardon me for my intrusion, but may I join two colorful personalities away from the others?"

"Why the hell should I care? I don't know you." Cass hissed, her words of venom apparent to the man in the suit and tie.

"Perhaps I should introduce myself." He bowed before the two sitting on the fountain. "I am Dean Domino, an illustrious singer who stands before you. Well, I was before the bombs fell and transformed me into this undignified state you currently see me in." Then he lifted his head and slipped one of his hands into a pocket whereas the other hand was busy holding his cigar. "I overheard your ringleader speak of your background. Artyom, I presume?" Dean pulled out his free hand and gave it to him.

Rather than disrespect a former pre-war survivor, the stalker reluctantly brought his hand out and shook his hand. "Yes. It's rather an honor to meet someone like yourself, even though I haven't heard of you."

A smile appeared on his face. "Yet, you are someone I am relieved to see. I wonder how a Russian such as you have stumbled into this place."

"I don't know how to put it, but I have no idea. One day I was in the Moscow Metro, the next I ended up here." Artyom answered. "The only explanation for that would be anomalies." He really didn't want to discuss the matter of the Dark Ones so easily. Some questions would be brought up if he didn't mention them in the first place. "However, the Mojave does not appear to have them."

"Interesting, what is your first impression of the Sierra Madre?"

"A hell hole."

Dean nodded his head in approval. "Not the way I would put it." He replied. "But you're not entirely wrong. Had you been here in my time, you would have been met with a wonderful sight. It was beauty, but you're right. I'm not fond of it's bleakness and its inhabitants. Perhaps I should have left when I had the chance."

"Why did you stay here? This place is no place to live."

"It's because of Sinclair's vault, the very reason why you tourists come here in the first place."

Curious about this place's history, Artyom continued to ask. "Who was he?"

"Him? The man who built this place, the vault, the casino, everything. All of it to honor the very woman he loved." The ghoul answered. "Poor fool spent a fortune trying to display his tribute. I'm rather jealous of him. He died before me."

"Still, you could have left when you had a chance?"

"And not have the opportunity to insult the man centuries later? I wouldn't pass that up. He tried things as if he was doing everyone a favor. Yet, here I am an old wreck whose face is nothing more than a pickled herring."

Cass began to comment. "A what?"

"Swedish fish, I'm sure none of you won't have a clue what a fish is in the first place."

"I know what a fish is." The stalker replied. "If some of the people I know are correct, pickled herring is a weird fish."

"Ah, finally a tourist who has some degree of intelligence."

"Was that a complement?"

"Truly. I'm old and I'm sure most of the things I speak of are already dead at this time." Dean answered. "It's good to know someone knows some knowledge I can… relate to."

Angelique's voice was loud and clear. "We are now going to talk to Elijah." She stated. "Let's get this over with."

The party stood up and congregated around the fountain as the courier walked up to the hologram display, only to have a single tile lift in a forty-five degree angle. Everyone silently observed as the image of the woman disappeared, only to allow the holographic image of Father Elijah stand before him. "What is it? Have all of you done what I've asked?" He demanded.

"Yeah." She answered. "We got everyone you wanted to get."

A smile fell upon his lips. "Good. Very good. You know how to take orders well, girl."

Artyom took notice of the woman clenching her fists. He was sure she didn't like that arrogance this man gave.

Then Elijah's attention looked elsewhere. "Ah, Veronica. It's good to see that you are alive. Allow me to assure you, your companions will be free by the time we are done." His eyes returned back on the courier. "In order to open the Sierra Madre, I have learned that we need more than a single person." The old man said.

"What will you have us do?" The stalker wondered.

"There are three tasks all of you will need to do." He began. "The first is to unleash the fireworks. The second? Bring up the music. Last, but not least, power up the Villa. Once these requirements are finished, the Casino will open its doors and all of you will have the opportunity to get inside. I will not keep you any longer, but be quick about it." The holographic image of the old man disappeared as the projector turned off.

Then God spoke. "So that is what the old man looks like. Now I will remember his face. He will pay."

"Don't get too excited." Angelique commented. "We still have plenty to do."

"I know, but I will not be going to my position alone. I don't trust any of you."

"We freed you."

"No, I freed myself. Your companion merely convinced me I should go out. Now I should return back to the cage."

However, Dean Domino scoffed at his reluctance. "I would implore all of you that we still have these neckties, but I prefer something fashionable. Let all of us worry about each other after we remove him."

"Why should I care about what you say? You've lived here long enough, but never had the opportunity to end him right now." God replied. "You wasted it."

"Unlike you, I'm a very patient man. I have the years to overcome all of you. Don't think my frail old body can't take a dog like yourself."

Artyom stepped between the two imprisoned victims of Father Elijah's machinations. "Enough!" He said in a firm tone. Let's open those doors so Elijah can show himself and we can all put him down. Then we can all go our separate ways and forget about this whole entire incident."

"That is easy for you to say. You don't have one around your neck."

"I know that, but I came here to rescue Cass and Angelique from that man. Since their lives are stuck with yours, I intend that all of you get out of this alive. The mere fact we've managed to tolerate one-another is enough. I'm tired of this shithole and the others are sure to agree."

"Really? I don't know too many people who would want to forfeit their potential fortune for their lives."

"Tell, in all your years, how many people have died just for that?"

Dean looked up at the red sky to contemplate. "Too many to count. Far too many tourists have met their end in this dreary place, but what makes you different?"

"I have my reasons, trust me." Then Artyom glanced over to the courier. "Angelique, do we have a plan to work with?"

She nodded her head as she presented her Pip-Boy. "Get around me and have a good look." The blonde ordered. As the party began to surround her while she presented the map, she began pointing at some of the various locations on the map. "Here are the three positions. We'll split off into four groups. The three will be positioned where Elijah wants us to be, but the fourth group will be the one to start everything once everything is set. Who wants to pair up with who?" She wondered.

Veronica raised her powerfist. "I'm going with Christine."

"Are you sure?"

"We have plenty to catch up on and I prefer to be alone while we still can." The scribe explained.

Angelique nodded her head. "I understand, personal." Then she glanced to Dean Domino. "Dean, you're going to go on top of the rooftops."

The ghoul lowered his shades and began to wonder. "Okay, but is someone coming along. I'm not going if no one is accompanying me."

She glanced over to the others. "The communist will join you."

The Red Line soldier raised an eyebrow. "You want me to accompany him of all people?"

"You have a problem with that?"

Dean allowed a chuckle to escape before covering his eyes from the world once again. "I won't mind. It's been ages since I had a decent political discussion with an opponent. Maybe this will be enlightening to know?"

The last person to remain was the nightkin, God. "So who shall I accompany?" He wondered.

Angelique looked to the two free people who remained. "Artyom, Angelique?"

The caravanner stepped forward and loaded her shotgun. "Don't worry, I'll keep an eye out on the guy. It shouldn't be too bad."

Artyom turned his full attention on the courier. "I guess I'm stuck with you."

She nodded her head. "Try to keep up with your partners, everyone. We'll all need it."

When the party finally fractured, the stalker and the courier were walking together into a lonely path towards their destination. Once they were away from the others, she broke the silence. "I've noticed you got some new weapons. Mind sharing where you got them?" She wondered.

The Russian inspected his weapon for a moment, before walking beside her. "Someone left them for me. I don't know who, but when I left the Medical Clinic someone wanted me to have it."

"Really? We didn't even go there."

"I know." Artyom added. "There is a possibility it might be one of those ghost people, but there is a problem."

"How so?" Angelique wondered. "Ghost people like to gift people before ambushing them. What makes this no different?"

"Somebody wrote a note behind the postcard, but there is one detail I can't get out of my head. It was written in Russian."

"Now that is some spooky shit, right there."

The duo had trekked their way through buildings and alleys, while surviving the toxic impact of the clouds. After some close calls of some radios almost killing the courier, their path was safe. However, there was an occasional pack of ghost people who would encounter them before gunning them down and then making sure they were truly dead.

Then they arrived at a courtyard, only to encounter five ghost people rushing after them. Two were throwing their spears after them while the rest stumbled forth with knives at the ready. Artyom raised his new weapon, baptised through the recent killings. With the help of the laser sight, he merely needed to point the weapon where the red dot would be and let the trigger do the rest. Using the scope wasn't necessary for such close engagements. Two bursts of suppressed gunfire peppered the two ghost people, their bodies stumbling back and succumbing to the damage of his sub-machine gun.

Angelique fired her plasma gun, unleashing streams of heat into the targets. The first had its head melted off, the second lost a limb, but the third began to melt before her. "There we go, the courtyard is clear."

Walking up to the two fallen ghost people, Artyom slung his weapon over his shoulder and drew his untested makeshift weapon. The ammo consisted of ball-bearings while it contained a battery charger with it's power around the eighty-five percent range. His free hand took ahold of the clamp and began charging the battery, increasing the electricity within.

"Artyom, what are you doing?" She asked.

Once the needle reached its full potential, he aimed his weapon at the head of the fallen, but not dead ghost person. "Weapon testing." He said before pulling a trigger. Then his weapon sparked to life as his projectile made the ghost person's head explode into a green mess. Artyom turned his attention onto the other fallen ghost person and fired once more. "This weapon, it feels powerful."

"Whatever that thing is, conserve the ammo. You'll need that." Her head turned towards the building before them as the stalker looked up and noticed the tower above. "We're both needed here." The courier stated. "Hopefully, the others are ready."

The two began to make their way into the building before they were met with a ladder. After the courier began, he followed after her, but with each climb he felt afraid. This dead town was filled with buildings that weren't maintained. There was a large possibility that anything could break and this building could collapse on itself if it so wished.

When Artyom arrived at the top floor, he found Angelique immediately at work on a console placed before the window. This was the control tower, the place that would have opened the Sierra Madre when there was a chance. Too bad that never happened.

On the courier's Pip-Boy, he could hear the voices from the various teams call out to her.

"Christine and I are ready?"

"Pavel and I are ready, but do make this quick. Once the music starts playing, the ghost people will attend our little party."

"When do I start turning this on?"

The courier placed her weapon on the side and adjusted the console to her bidding. "Hold up it will take me some time."

Meanwhile, he took the opportunity to scavenge around, only to find more of those strange holodisks and stimpacks. It wasn't much, but it was preferable than finding nothing at all.

"Alright, I'm ready."

Elijah's voice came to life, filled with enthusiasm. "Are you up in the belltower? Good. The gates will open at the crackle in the sky. The bell will toll for us."

Artyom observed the courier push a button on the console as music filled the air. The sounds of an ancient time when people wouldn't have cared as much. Now it was the cry of the damned enthralling those who would have gone into the Sierra Madre without a question. A thunder crackled in the skies while searchlights, long forgotten, turned on for this very occasion and perhaps the only one.

"The Sierra Madre is open, now get inside before the ghost people do."

The young man began to head the wisdom of Dean Domino as he looked outside of the tower and down below. While the bodies of the previous pack were present, more ghost people were there and converging on their position. As Angelique grabbed her plasma gun, she took the lead. "Come on, we got to go."

He slipped his silenced weapon off from his shoulder and lined up the scope with his eye. "They're coming for us. While you head down, I'll try to pick them off from up here. Can you handle that?"

"How many are down there?"

Through the scope, it started out with five ghost people, but more arrived in greater numbers. "About a dozen." Artyom answered. "Once the courtyard is clear, I'll join you and we head into the casino together."

"Okay, but don't take your sweet time up here." Then she made her way down the ladder while he lined up a shot.

When his finger reached the trigger, he knew what was to come. The ghost people were hard to kill and conserving his ammunition was key when fighting them. Their heads appeared to be decent targets just before one of them came into his crosshairs. Then his finger began to squeeze the trigger.

They had dodged the many traps that would have gotten them killed. Bear traps, shielded radios, and even simple land mines. After they ran through the gates, Artyom and Angelique stormed through the door while a couple dozen ghost people noticed their rush.

When they reached the main doors of the casino, Artyom turned around with his sub-machine gun at the ready while he waited for the courier to open the doors. Pairs of green eyes stumbled towards him, some even attempting to throw spears at him despite landing short. Their sheer determination was not something to disregard.

He felt the courier tap his shoulder before he quickly joined her and slipped through the doors before locking them shut, leaving the walking dead behind.

Angelique started laughing in relief. "Damn, they almost had us." She commented before it disappeared. Strange, what was going on with her? Then the young woman slumped to the ground, but she wasn't the only one.

Looking around, Artyom witnessed members of his group lying on the ground together. What caused this in the first place? However, small whiff of a strange scent was enough to catch his attention, but this was stronger than the stuff used in that one place. He reached for his gas mask, hoping it would prevent this sleeping gas from knocking him out. Yet, the stalker was too late when his legs failed to support him while his gas mask was in his hand.

When he landed onto the dusty marble floor, Artyom fell into a deep slumber. Nothing, but blackness was all his mind could think off.

A voice, a familiar one, called out to him. Whether it was future sign or a dream, he heard him speak. "It's okay Artyom, I'm right here."

How could it be? He should have died. Then his lips called out to an old familiar friend. "Hunter?"