It has been weeks since caravan found themselves in the company of the Rangers and their two additional people. As they trekked through the tunnels, they saw a light on the other end of the cave system while Artyom's hopes were raised that he would see sunlight again. Meanwhile, the Rangers that were accompanying Jed carried five duffle bags of goods for trade with the light lifting everyone's spirits. "Thank god." The caravan leader replied. "I know you're all tired, but once we get to New Canaan we'll be going back with some caps."

Then Tomilin expressed his concern. "Are you sure we'll be able to find the closest settlement? Those slopes look like we won't leave whatever the hell this place is."

"Don't worry. Once we come into contact with the New Canaanites, they'll send us on our way." The assured him. "Everyone, keep your eyes peeled. We're now in tribal territory."

"Rangers, spread out."

When they exited the tunnel, Artyom raised his hand to keep the sunlight out of his eyes. Past the light, his gaze fell upon a beautiful canyon bathed in sunlight. Yet, his biggest awe was the sight of trees. The only green he had seen before were glowing mushrooms, but the sight of green everywhere made him curious about the days when he listened to his elders. "Wow." Was all he could say to summarize his thoughts about this strange land.

He walked to the edge of a cliff to see a bridge connecting his side of the canyon to the other side. His eyes looked below to see running water. Unlike the polluted streams of melted snow from the city of Moscow, he was looking at undiluted fresh water for anyone to drink. Then he heard the footsteps of his companion join him. "Damn, this is quite a sight to see. Which begs me a question, do you have anything like this back in Moscow?"

Artyom shook his head. "No. The Dead City has nothing like this. Here, it looks fresh and… living. Cass, have you seen your fair share of these places?"

"No. The Mojave is just sand and rock. Nothing much there."

Their sightseeing came to an end when Tomilin called them out. "Artyom, Cass, keep up."

They turned away from the edge of the cliffs followed the caravan and Polis Rangers to a trail that appeared to lead towards the bridge. Then Jed was quick to order his guards forward. "You two, advance ahead of the group. We'll follow after."

One of the caravan guards waved his hand while walking forward. "Got it, sir."

Ricky backed away from the others as he approached the armored caravaneer with his attempts… again. "We're still going to be weeks away from getting out of the caravan. You still want to have the short end of the straw."

Artyom noticed that Cass had tolerated Ricky's annoying advances ever since they left the Metro. Every now and then, he often felt the urge to personally discourage him. This man hadn't been to the Sierra Madre and neither did he understand what his friend had to endure. Yet, every opportunity was gone since she was quicker to deal with him. "I've seen your sort before and I'll say it again. No. Besides, you're too much of a goddamn coward compared to Artyom."

"Yeah right, I can bet you a hundred caps he'll be hiding behind a rock by the time a real fight happens."

"Double if my man can prove you wrong." Now she was betting on him. Of course, she knew her odds were better with him. Thoughts circulated throughout his mind about how Sukhoi would react to her. Yet, he couldn't resist the thought of having someone comment on how he left Exhibition to bring home a girl. Eugene would be jealous for… having her around.

Masterson grabbed everyone's attention when he raised his hands. "Hey everyone, hold up. I think I saw something." The young man saw everyone tense up while the Polis Rangers were quick to raise their weapons.

A loud crack echoed throughout the canyon as the group watched the heads of one of the caravan guards explode. The other one drew his lever-action rifle, but a half-naked man jumped out of a bush on his left with makeshift axe in hand. He had little time to react before he succumbed to the makeshift axe planted into his chest.

Tomilin screamed to the top of his lungs. "Contact! Get to cover!" He was quick to open fire on the ambusher and drop him. Then he pointed to the caravan's right for the set of rocks and broken trees that were waiting for him.

The caravan broke up in the chaos while Artyom saw several more of these savages appear on the cliffside above. He found shelter behind a tree still standing before glancing to his left to see the Rangers form a firing line and return fire at the sniper. "They're in the cliffs!"

He took in his observation as he called out to two of his men. "Grisha, Romanov, watch those cliffs. Everyone else, suppress the fuckers." The one with the crossbow on his back and the man afraid of Shrimps scanned for the cliffs watching their flanks. When they saw the enemy proceed to attack, they were prepared to gun them down.

Out of the trail leading towards the bridge, a dozen more of these tribals charged their positions. Unlike the previous assailants, they were equipped with sub-machine guns. When they spoke, their accent was different as they unleashed their firepower upon the caravans. He aimed his assault rifle downrange and joined his fellow Russians in keeping the enemy back.

During the fighting, he could hear Ricky whining over the gunfire. "Why is this happening to me? I didn't do anything except carry a broken Pip-Boy."

"Ricky, don't talk, shoot!" Stella snapped, firing her rifle.

Without a word, the cowering man brought up his sub-machine gun and fired his weapon over the rocks with one hand. Even though he was inaccurate, he contributed to the fighting in some form. Unlike the heavily armored Polis Rangers, lack of armor on the savages was showing when their corpses were littered the area.

"Is that it?" She wondered.

"I don't know." Tomilin replied. "That's too small for an ambush." Then he rose from behind the rocks. "Artyom, with me. Everyone else, stay put."

Whatever reason the Ranger had for him, the young man reluctantly walked out of cover while switching out his Kalash for his Tihar. Then he pumped the lever for more air pressure into his weapon. He didn't want to waste his bullets on anything. "What are we doing?"

"Sparking a response. Either these people ran or they're getting reinforcements." He reasoned.

"Shouldn't we move then?"

"Kid, look around you. We don't know jack shit about this place."

The duo proceeded to move onto the path and found themselves at the entrance to the bridge. "They didn't destroy the bridge."

"There is something off. I know it."

Across the bridge, Artyom saw another one of these white-painted savages with a long-barrelled rifle in his arms. "Sniper, across the bridge!"

"Don't let him take a shot!" The Ranger fired his assault rifle while Artyom switched out his makeshift weapon for his pre-war one. His slow reaction to the sniper made him fear for his life, but the gunfire stopped. "Hold up, there's another one."

In the middle of working his rifle, the sniper was attacked from behind. With a swing from his club, the sniper met an untimely end while his weapon slipped out of his grasp. Then the new arrival turned his gaze towards their position. A moment of silence came, as the savage stranger waved his hands at the duo before he strapped his club behind his back. "I think he's trying to tell us not to shoot."

"I don't know. Can't tell the difference between this guy and the ones that tried to kill us." As the dark-skinned man walked up to him, Tomilin raised his weapon. "Don't move any further."

The man did as he was told. "I am not here to hurt you." He said. "Came to help you."

"You certainly did."

The stranger placed a hand on his chest. "I am Follows-Chalk of the Dead Horses tribe. Joshua Graham sent me here to guide you to their camp, but the White Legs got here first. Are you the only two survivors?"

"Nyet, Artyom and I are making sure if there are any more of these White Legs lurking about." Tomilin replied.

"How can I trust your word before we get into an ambush?"

"The White Legs are our enemies and they poach our lands." Then Follows-Chalk looked around. "We need to go, now. More will come."

Tomilin swore to himself. "Jed, the area is clear!"

The caravan cautiously advanced as their gazes fell upon the savage with little to no clothes on his person. "You don't look like a White Leg."

"No." Follows-Chalk replied. "I'm a Dead Horse. Come, the White Legs will be looking for their dead."

Then Tomilin glanced over to his men. "If that's the case, we better scavenge whatever weapons they have. Those sub-machine guns might be worth having."

Once the dead were stripped from anything of value, the caravan followed their guide with their weapons drawn. Artyom noted this location's peaceful beauty while he noted several locations marked with paintings. "What do those paintings mean?"

The guide was quick to answer. "The Sorrows tribe marked those buildings to be haunted by angry spirits. They won't approach them, but I think they're too suspicious."

Ricky made a comment. "Damn savages."

However, Jed spoke. "Ricky, I'd shut the hell up if I were you. These people can be easily offended."

"Sorry for pointing out the obvious."

One of the Rangers scoffed at him. "I'll haunt your ass if your mouth gets us killed. You hear me?"

Then Jed began to ask questions. "Thanks for finding us, we were looking for a way to New Canaan. I hope you could help us out of Zion."

Follows-Chalk smiled. "Our leader wants to meet with anyone coming southways. Anyone who is attacked by the White Legs is under his protection."

"I can't wait to meet him myself so I could thank him."

"All of your are from the civilized lands? What's it like there? I hear you don't hunt for food or stay together as tribes to survive."

"No. Things are a lot different in the Mojave." Jed explained. "It's really hard to explain while walking. I think it's better once we head off to where you're taking us."

"We're heading to my camp. It will be safe from the White Legs."

They walked upon the broken road as Cass expressed her disgust with the heads planted on the sticks. "Damn, what did they do to deserve that?"

"The elders say the spirits of our enemies are trapped, but our leader says it is a message to the White Legs. To tell them we are not a tribe to be taken so easily." Follows-Chalk answered.

"No better than crucifiction, I say."

The group was directed away from the main road as they were brought into a an area filled with streams of water. "Is that where we should go?" Artyom wondered.

"Yes." The Dead Horseman said. "Watch out. There are traps in the water. We got to keep the White Legs out somehow."

One of the Rangers chuckled. "Shit, I can see why Romanov doesn't like the water. Also, light refracts with water."

"What the hell does that mean?" Ricky commented.

He shook his head. "Just avoid them in general."

Feeling the cold water through his boots, Artyom looked at the fish flitting past his feet. Then the caravaneer accompanying him made a remark about them. "Holy shit, there's fish!"

After navigating through the streams of water and around the traps, the caravan arrived at their destination. They found where the stream ended before they saw the dozens of makeshift tents made out of animal hide along with several campfires scattered around. Follows-Chalk waved his hand before the tribal guards returned the same gesture to their own. "We're here. All of you can settle down here."

Artyom joined the company in a single direction while he noticed the savages observe them. All of them had some form of paint on their faces as they smiled at their arrival. Then he noticed a woman walk out of a cave on the other side with her arms crossed. Unlike the others, she didn't smile. "Hoi, Owslandr zookah Joshua Graham?"

Jed seemed surprised by the name. "Yes… we're here to see him." The caravaneer said reluctantly.

The woman nodded her head in approval. "You will show respect to warchief."

Cass stood beside him and swore quietly. "Shit, Joshua Graham. What the hell is he doing here?"

Surprised by her response, Artyom wanted to understand the importance of that name. "Who is he?"

"He used to be the commander of the Legion forces during the Battle at Hoover Dam. The NCR won and he was punished for failure." She explained. "Now, we're going to meet him."

He tensed up after the revelation. "Now I don't feel comfortable being here."

"I hope we get out of Zion quickly. I don't want to be in his company."

The woman who appeared to be Joshua's second-in-command spoke up once again. "Only three of you will meet with warchief."

Then Jed glanced over to his party. "Um… Tomilin, mind keeping me company. The rest of our goods are secured, but I could use some bodyguards."

The Polis Ranger nodded his head. "I can do that. Anyone else wants to volunteer?" He asked.

Silence answered his call.

Despite Cass's view on the man and the mere fact that he was from Legion, there was something about him that made Artyom curious. If this man was a general from Caesar's armies, how did this man end up becoming a simple warchief? It was a risk worth taking, but nothing could compare to the Sierra Madre. "I'll come." He said.

Cass looked at him. "Are you crazy?"

"No, I'm just curious."

"He might kill you."

"We can't be sure till we come face-to-face."

Then Stella spoke up. "Good luck, kid. You'll need it if you're going to meet an ex-Legate."

Artyom stepped forward and followed Jed and Tomilin into the cave. Similar to the outside, caves were put up inside the tunnels with fire pits staving off the darkness. Both Russians never had the opportunity to put on their flashlights as the trio went through a maze to meet the man in charge of these people. The woman who guided them through had stopped in front of an entrance and turned her full attention on them. "He is here. Respect warchief."

"We will." Jed replied.

Then they stepped into a large open area with a natural platform area ready for them. It was fitting for a leader to address his subjects, but there was no throne for him. Instead, the entire place was an assortment of weapons and various foreign equipment present while a man sat behind a table and field stripping his pistols.

The young man imagined what Joshua would look like. Would he appear like the humble people he lead or wore lavish clothes? Yet, he was surprised at what he found. The man's entire body was covered in bandages save for his black armor and blue jeans. Joshua assembled one of many pistols together and turned his head in the direction of the newcomers. "This is God's land and he welcomes all who come here. As his follower, I welcome all of you to Zion, even the gentiles. Had I not been so busy, your caravan would have come to our safety before the White Legs even got here."

The caravan leader stepped forward and received his full attention. "Hello Joshua Graham, my name is Jed Masterson of the Happy Trails Company. Could you help get us on our way to New Canaan?"

"I know you have traveled many weeks from where you came from, but your journey was all in vain. New Canaan was wiped out by the White Legs and I am sad to say that you and your caravan are stuck here with us."

"New Canaan's god? Damn savages. Well, could you help us leave out of Zion?"

Joshua shook his head. "I would certainly help you, but I have other important matters that require my attention. However, your caravan cannot leave unless you want to die in the wild."

"Could we get a map and be on our way?"

"No, it's not that simple." The warchief of the Dead Horses replied. "The White Legs are beginning to bring their scouts into Zion Valley. Their desire to ravage God's holy earth has become a top priority to deal with. I need everyone to defeat the White Legs and I cannot spare any guides to help you."

Jed reaction poorly to that. "So we came all of this way for nothing. Now we're all trapped here."

"Not necessarily. Your caravan could help the Dead Horses and the Sorrows eliminate the White Legs once and for all. This spiritual and practical matter in helping us if you so wish. Once the White Legs are not dispersed from these lands, there is an opportunity for us to help you."

"Thank you, fine sir. I appreciate the help for our company."

"If it gives you any comfort, there is a New Canaanite in the company of the Sorrows. However, he cannot help you leave Zion with the White Legs threatening that tribe." The bandaged man replied.

Jed rubbed his forehead as he turned away from the leader of the Dead Horses. "Thank goodness the Burned Man told me himself. I have to tell the others. Come on people, let's go."

The Polis Ranger walked after him, but Artyom stayed put. He was curious about the man who once lead the forces of the Legion. Before he had an opportunity to talk, he felt a hand grab his wrist. He turned around and saw the commanding woman gesture her head out of the man's lair. "Leave Owslandr."

However, Joshua Graham's voice spoke. "No, he can stay. I believe this young man has something to say. Leave us be."

She released her grip on him before walking back to the rest of her people.

"It appears you didn't leave with the rest of your company. I'm sure you have a reason for being here."

Artyom gave himself a moment of silence before he could speak. "My curiosity got the better of me. I heard that he were once a commander of Caesar's Legion and I wanted to meet the man in person."

"Is that so? Then if you come to kill me, the Lord will give me the strength to fight back."

He shook his head. "No, I'm not here to kill you. Those were never my intentions, but merely to know the man who somehow made his way here."

"If you wanted to learn about the Burned Man, a story-teller would be fitting instead of the man himself."

"Sir, I'm not from the Mojave. My experience traveling America is limited."

"You're not from America?" He asked. "Please introduce yourself, you have my full attention."

"My name is Artyom Alekseyevich Chyornyj, but you can call me Artyom for short. I'm from Moscow in Russia or what's left of it."

"Intriguing, you are not the first person from Moscow to come here."

Artyom froze where he stood. "What do you mean?"

"Not too long ago, a strange man arrived in one of Zion's caves and met with Follows-Chalk. He wasn't aware of my presence, but he hailed from Moscow. This stranger called himself Khan, but he looked like he was no Great Khan." Joshua explained in great detail.

"Khan?"

"You know him?"

He nodded his head in confirmation. "Yes. He lead a friend of mine in the caravan and I through a dangerous part of the Metro. Were it not for him, we wouldn't be here."

"The Lord works in mysterious ways, but now that I know enough about you I think you deserve to know about me. It is a fair trade."

"How did you end up here?"

Joshua grabbed one of the pistols on the table as his eyes trailed down. "I was once a Legate of the Legion and one of its founders. We came across Hoover Dam, but I lost the battle against the NCR. As a result of my failure, Caesar put me in pitch and lit me on fire before throwing me into the canyon. At that moment, the fire within me burned more than the one around me. It took me months to get back to New Canaan, but they welcomed me back as if I did nothing wrong."

"I see. I apologize if I pried into something personal. I didn't mean no offence, sir."

"Worry not. God is always understanding and I believe you were just curious."

"What kind of guns are those?" Artyom asked.

"These weapons came from my ancestors. They are powerful weapons became a necessity to use ever since the White Legs got their hands on some very powerful sub-machine guns they call 'Storm-drums'. Are you interested in having one?"

The Russian gave out his hand and shook his head. "No. I already have a weapon built by my ancestors." Then he glanced at his Kalashnikov hanging from his shoulder. "This one has served my people well from before the war and even after the bombs fell."

"If I didn't have these bandages, I would have smiled." Joshua replied.

"Are you in pain? Do you need any medicine?"

To his surprise, he never thought the Burned Man would chuckle. "No. I have become used to the pain to care. I doubt any medicine will rid me of the pain when I expose my flesh to the air, but God prefers a man who cleans himself than remain comfortable."

"You place much emphasis in God. I've never met anybody who were that religious."

"Do you believe in God?"

Artyom lowered his head as he thought about his time whether the deity actually helped him. "I don't know. It's rather difficult to believe in God when he's left you to die in some tunnels."

Joshua rose from his seat and stepped down the rocky platform to meet the Russian face-to-face. Then his hand was clamp down on his shoulder. "Perhaps it is God's way of helping you endure such hardships to test your faith. A way to find hope when there is nothing else to believe in." The warchief of the Dead Horses changed the subject. "The rest of your caravan would be worried that you stayed here longer the leader of your caravan. Rest easy in our camp, we'll share our food and water with your people after a long travel such as yours."

The young man turned away from the Burned Man as he made his way out.

Night had fallen as the caravan joined the Dead Horses in their dinner. Despite the commotion, Cass looked at Artyom's tent to see him sleeping quietly. "He's sleeping well." She commented while sitting beside a campfire with the Polis Rangers receiving their wooden bowls of fruits and various animal meet.

Then Joshua Graham came to their campfire and joined them. "I hope our hospitality is doing good enough for everyone."

The survivors of the caravan attack nodded their heads in approval while Stella spoke up. "So we're going to help you tomorrow to find a way out Zion?"

"Yes. The White Legs have become a threat enough that we shouldn't need your help, but we do. At the moment, we cannot risk God's land to be in the hands of these…" His eyes glanced over to Ricky, who had just shoved a syringe of jet into his body. "...animals."

The man in the blue jumpsuit looked at the others when they all stare at him. "What?"

"I hope that is your last shot of jet." He said. "If I see any of the Dead Horses succumb to that, your head will go on the pike."

Jed was quick to ask a question. "What kind of conversation did you have with Artyom to be in there so long?"

"The discussion was appears to have been a personal one for him and I think he needed somebody to talk to him about it."

Cass found herself surprised that Artyom was even granted an audience with the man himself. It felt strange that the man who once led the armies of the Legion was their welcoming host who gave them shelter and food for their stay. Then her ears heard whimpering in one of the tents. She looked around, only to see Artyom turning around in his sleep, but making noise. Out of all the things she could discern in his mumblings, one word could be recognized. "Rats, rats, rats…"

She rose up from her campfire along with several others as she made her way to his side. "Artyom, are you okay?" Then she placed a hand on his shoulder. "Artyom?"

He opened his eyes and immediately sat up; however, his adrenaline rush made him reach for his weapons. "Rats! Where are the rats!"

Cass stayed his hand from reaching for his revolver before he realized the attention he placed on himself. "Artyom, it's okay. Nothing is out to get you."

Once he calmed down, the young man placed his hands on his face. "I think I had a nightmare."

"Go back to sleep. It's okay."

Once Artyom slipped back onto his bed of straws, Cass joined the others at the campfire. However, she heard Tomilin speak. "I figured it be him."

"What do you mean?"

"If he's Sukhoi's son, then he probably has some nightmares from his real home station before he was taken into his care. Artyom is from Timiryazevskaya, everyone at his station was eaten alive by a swarm of rats. Only a five-man squad and a baby survived the encounter."

Then Joshua made a comment. "This was in Moscow."

The Ranger nodded his head. "The only reason they survived was the fact they had the only motorized trolley with enough oil to get them through several stations."

"Did those stations get saved?"

"No, the rats got them too."

Stella dropped her jaw. "What the actual fuck?"

"Welcome to the Metro. The only reason they were stopped was the fact somebody busted out a flamethrower to burn them back." Tomilin explained.

Silence fell through the camp as they continued to dig into their meal.

"I see." Spoke Joshua Graham. "I'll pray that God helps him deal with his nightmares and demons."

Someguy the anon: Thanks.

iloveTanks: Hans is a supporting character. No guarantees he'll live.

Paladin Bailey: Depends. The Polis Rangers still have a responsibility to the Metro and the NCR still has a warhawk foreign policy.

Aren serathy: I see.

DocHoliday0316: Yes, I am excited for Metro Exodus. It has been years since the end of Last Light. Plus, I need something to scratch my S.T.A.L.K.E.R itch.