The inside of the treehouse, or better yet, tree compound, was homely. The walls were green, covered with soft moss. Grooves were cut in the wood, allowing placement of items and objects such as covered torches or books.

They had guided him to what appeared to be the dining room, a crude wood table with seats arranged around it.

For a few minutes, Boryslav sat facing the other side of the empty table, with nothing much to do but wait. The quiet gave him time to think.

How the hell did it get to this again?

"Oh, right." Boryslav recalled, throwing hands against the monstrous woman who had the strength of an exo-suit.

Finally, Ozen return, the white whistle holding a bottle of some unknown liquid, two cups in her other hand. Admittedly, he was still a tiny bit pissed at her, but she seemed to uphold her end of the bargain to make amends. Her armor was off, including the gauntlets and boots, as well as her disc-shaped hat, showing off a much more... womanly look to her figure. She laid the bottle and the cups on the table, pouring out the contents into the latter before motioning it to Boryslav.

He took the cup with a grin, she had wanted to make amends after all.

Ozen silently watched, the Stalker bringing the alcohol to his lips before holding it up, drinking it all in one go. It had been a long day today, and his frustrations had to be quenched in the most Stalker-esque way possible. It had a pretty good taste to it too, a tiny bit sweet and mostly savory as he put it down, the boy's jaw agape. "Ah, приятный." He then looked at Ozen, "Consider our quarrel finished. What was that drink?"

She lifted a clay cup, sipping from it. "Millet sake... I'm surprised you haven't passed out yet."

"Ha, it will take much more than that." Boryslav banged a fist against his chest. "Where I am from, drinking is as important as breathing... and fighting!"

Ozen was silent again, babysitting her alcohol. She seemed to be deep in thought, as if something was distracting her. Finally, she turned her head to the boy. "Make some food for our guest." The boy nodded, walking off to the kitchen.

"Спасибо." Boryslav thanked as the boy went on his way, turning back to face Ozen. "I happened to meet some of your comrades in the second layer."

"Oh? Those good for nothings..." She creepily smirked, "They didn't give you too much trouble...?"

"On the contrary. There was a bit of a misunderstanding, but we shared camp and they made damn good stew from some Leavidae I hunted." He shrugged with a small smile. "You are lucky to have them work for you."

Ozen looked away as if annoyed. "Hm, even a blind Furpong can shed useful fur." She then turned back to him. "Where do you hail from...-?"

"Worn. Just call me Worn." He leaned back in his seat, "And, eh,-"

"Nevermind, I actually don't care anymore." Ozen brutally admitted, "As far as I'm concerned, you're a foreigner..." Her smile widened, the atmosphere growing heavy with darkness. "And foreigners like you often find nothing but death in The Abyss."

Boryslav paused for a moment... before snorting, chuckling a little bit. Perhaps it was the sake finally coming to effect, but the presence that Ozen had seemed to give no effect. "Agh, you are so cruel, Ozen!" He put his two hands together in mock begging. "I am hurt you think so low of me."

A range of unknown emotions seemed to bubble underneath her features as Ozen stared at him.

The boy thankfully returned.

"I finished cooking, Master." The boy announced as he held a large tray, placing a trio of giant dishes on the table, Boryslav and Ozen given pairs of utensils. There were the mincemeat of some unknown animal, a medley of colorful steamed vegetables, and white rice.

Boryslav overlooked the assortment of food, a smile on his face. "Ooh, Выглядит вкусно!"

Ozen began first, taking giant spoonfuls of rice and meat, the juices of the latter soaking atop the former as she placed the vegetables on the side of her plate. Her appetite was made apparent, as large swaths of the buffet already depleted. Yet, even so, Boryslav awaited his turn, watching Ozen finish with her own before springing to action, setting himself up with his own delectable steaming plate. The white whistle watched him as he did so, an impassive gaze on her face.

Boryslav sat back down, rubbing his hands together before grabbing a spoon and digging in. It tasted delicious, with a little spice and kick to it. The vegetables on the other hand were buttery, their flavors tender and soft.

He scooped up some rice, staring at it. "They grow rice in Orth?" He asked before eating it.

"No." The answer came from Ozen, her plate already empty as she reached for seconds. "It's imported from West Beolsk, just like the Sake. Sometimes it is circulated into the supplies of my camp."

"I see, I see." Ironically, despite Orth's distrust on the outside, it seemed that they still relied heavily on imports. He bought the cup to his lips only to remember that he had finished it already. "Ah,-" He looked up, "-how about we open another bottle?"

"... Fine."

Ozen pushed her chair out before standing up, leaving the room as the boy began to take the plates. Boryslav turned to him, "So, it is just you and Ozen down here...-?"

The boy nodded before realizing that Boryslav was asking for his name. "Oh, my name is Marulk,"

"Marulk." Boryslav noted, "So tell me, how did a boy like you earn that?" He pointed at the blue whistle around Marulk's neck, "You look younger than some of the red whistles back at the orphanage."

Marulk looked embarrassed. "W-Well, you see, Mr-"

"Just call me Worn... Mister makes me feel damn old." Boryslav said.

"Um, Worn then." Marulk corrected before slowly looking down. "I-I'm not originally from Orth."

The admittance caused him to raise an eye, Marulk continuing.

"I'm from Jeseku, a country in the west."

"Eh, really?" Boryslav asked, his interest garnered. "So I guess this means I am not the only foreigner down here, Dah?" He said with a smile, Marulk abashedly facing away. "What is your country like? Beautiful?" Boryslav then asked.

"Hm?" Marulk blinked, "I- No one's ever asked me that before..." The young boy shrugged, "I-I'm not sure if I am the best to tell, I only went outside when it was night."

"You only-?" Boryslav was about to inquire before noticing Ozen return, two bottles this time as Boryslav gleefully rubbed his hands. "Ohohoho, you are a woman after my heart, Ozen."

She said nothing, placing the drinks on the table before sitting down, silently pouring herself a cup. Boryslav did the same, holding it out as he smiled.

"Cheers!"

There was a long pause, Ozen simply staring at him as Boryslav realized she was not going to return the gesture. He chuckled awkwardly before downing the alcohol in one go, Ozen doing the same. He attempted to pour himself another cup from a bottle, only for Ozen to grab it first. "That's enough for you. Any more and you'll pass out."

Boryslav's face tightened. "Is that a challenge?"

Ozen was silent, the Stalker taking it as her answer.

"Alright." Boryslav then got comfy, taking off his Sunrise suit to expose his telnyashka as Marulk blinked, scars on his skin now on display. Although it had only been a day or two, Boryslav felt as if he had the gear on for weeks. "I must warn you...-" He narrowed his eyes, his expression in a state of focus and concentration. "You are going to lose against me."

She poured herself another cup, and for a moment, Boryslav could hear her grumble underneath her breath. "As if..."

That was what set him off, as he poured himself a shot, gulping it down.

And then another.

And then another...

Marulk stuttered, "W-Worn! T-That's-!"

Yet he said nothing and kept drinking, now Ozen staring with wide eyes. After his sixth cup, he got off his seat and flexed both arms, "Raaah! Ahahahaha!" He then sat back down after showing off, "Let's see you beat that, White Whistle." He goaded her as she reached for a cup, finishing it in one go as she accepted his challenge.

But upon her third cup, the cracks already began to show, her hand slightly wobbly as a bit of the content poured out. Ozen gritted her teeth behind her lips, briefly hesitating.

Marulk seemed to recognize the signs, "M-Master, if you drink anymore then-!"

"What is the matter, Ozen?" Boryslav called out, "You giving up already?"

She turned to him upon the utterance of that last phrase, Boryslav blinking as he saw something... uncharacteristic in her eyes.

Longing.

And with that, she drank the cup, pausing for a second as Marulk and Boryslav watched.

"... Is she-"

Ozen fell face forward against the table, the shockwave knocking the cups off the table. Boryslav could swear that his behind lifted from the chair for a brief moment, Marulk's two feet leaving the ground before coming back down. They both recovered, Boryslav blinking as the satisfaction of victory quickly faded.

"Huh, I guess she sleeps when she is drunk."

"Oh no." Marulk came up to her side, shaking her shoulder. "M-Master! Please wake up! You'll catch a cold if you sleep outside." The boy was met with a loud snore, Boryslav coming up beside him as they looked at the passed-out white whistle.

"Forget it, Boy. If there is anything I have learned, she is not going to be waking up anytime soon."

They stared at the snoring Ozen for another few seconds before Boryslav turned his head again, looking down at Marulk.

"By the way, I have been wanting to ask... why the hell are you wearing a dress?"

"Erf..." Worn groaned, stepping upon the last piece of stairs as he held Ozen atop his back, slumped head resting over his shoulders as her boots dragged across the ground. "I-Is this the room?" He then grunted in agitation, "Why the fuck does she live at the top!?"

"I-I'll open the door." Marulk said as he pushed open the giant set, showing off an orderly studio. Worn quickly speed-walked inside, tossing her atop the nearest cushion as he let out a relieved breath, patting his hands together.

"Fuck, she was heavy." He then turned to Marulk, a serious gaze in his eyes. "Never tell her I said that."

"Okay." Marulk agreed.

Boryslav then looked around, whistling at the extensive interior. "Wow, this is a nice room. Do I get to stay in a place like this?"

Marulk opened his mouth only for Boryslav to notice the elephant in the room, so to speak.

A giant white box.

It sat at the end, uncovered by a set of curtains. Boryslav walked up to it, tilting his head.

"What the hell is this thing?" He asked.

"Oh, that is the curse-warding box." Marulk explained, "Lyza the-" The maid then bit his tongue, as if stopping himself from speaking a taboo.

But Boryslav already connected the words. "You mean Lyza the Annihilator?" He then recalled a blonde-haired red whistle back at the orphanage, stars in her eyes. "Riko's mother?"

"Y-Yes..." The maid's eyes cautiously glanced at the sleeping Ozen, "She was the one to buy it."

"Then why is it here? In Ozen's room?" Boryslav turned his head to Marulk. "They know each other well?"

Marulk now seemed anxious, "Please, I can't speak much about it. The topic greatly displeases Ozen."

Boryslav paused for a moment before deciding to drop it. "Alright then." He then walked around, inspecting the rest of the room. He noticed Ozen's cloth armor was hanging from a stand, rows of bookshelves lining the walls. "She's studious." He noted, inspecting the titles. Some were field notes, others guides for relics before turning his attention back to the box. "So what does this do then? You said 'Curse-Warding', Dah?"

The boy nodded, "Indeed. I don't know the specifics, but the curse of the abyss is nullified while the subject is inside."

"So like my Compass." Boryslav thought of his artifact, "But a lot less convenient." He murmured with amusement, Marulk blinking.

"Sorry, I didn't hear what you-"

He dismissed the boys confusion, "I feel damn tired down. You know where I am sleeping?"

Marulk nodded.

"Fantastic."

They left Ozen's dwelling, and by extension, Ozen's sleeping self, traversing back down into the tree.

He followed the boy, Marulk holding a candle as they traversed the dimly lit hallways of green. After a few moments of silence, Marulk was surprisingly the first to break the ice this time. "To answer the question you asked after dinner... I-I am simply wearing this because it is similar to the dress I used to wear before coming to Orth...-" He added the next part with a little less sound, "-and that Master suggested this choice."

"Huh..." Boryslav simply grunted, his opinion on Ozen admittedly lowering before he changed the subject. "But you say you wore a dress before? Was that a part of Jeseku culture?"

Marulk nodded, "Y-Yes actually. Um, from what I know, it was a royal tradition."

"Oh."

Royalty, such an alien term for one who had lived in the Soviet Union, as the last royalty that had existed was the Romanovs, all of whom met an unfortunate end.

"So you were a prince who wore a dress or something?" Boryslav asked.

Marulk struggled to remember, "I was considered a... 'Child of Shadow'." Marulk paused before shrugging, "Within the royal family, there were other children like me whose skins are sensitive to sunlight."

"You are allergic to the sun?" From what Boryslav understood, photosensitivity was a rare condition, but apparently existed, even in this world as Marulk nodded, "So that is what you meant before, not knowing the beauty of your country because you could never go out during the day." He surmised.

Marulk nodded again, "Yes..."

"But what about the Abyss?" Boryslav asked.

"Oh, I am free to walk around without needing protection. I-I'm not sure of the reason, but the light that shines in the Abyss doesn't hurt me."

"Ah." Boryslav acknowledged, "The Curse anomaly must be somehow filtering the natural light at the surface. Interesting." Another question came to mind, Boryslav now walking beside Marulk "Speaking of which, how did royalty like you end up working as a maid down here? Must be a good story for it."

"I-"

And then Marulk froze up, holding the candle stiffly. Boryslav blinked, turning his head to see a blank glaze over his eyes.

He instantly recognized what was going on.

Boryslav was silent for a moment before kneeling down next to him, speaking up in a soft tone. "Hey." Marulk blinked turning his head to him, "... You were in a dark place just now, were you not?"

"... How did you know?" Marulk asked.

"... Just a guess." Boryslav lied before apologizing, "I am sorry for bringing it up."

"No, no, i-it's fine."

Boryslav nodded, a bit of silence between them as he stood back up. "... I must say, you are a brave child."

Marulk perked up.

"When I was your age, the circus was my limit. You know what that is, right?" Marulk nodded, Boryslav smiling as he recalled. "Well, you know how a circus has clowns? Laughing, scary, freaks in makeup. I almost shit my own pants when I saw them come in, and I ended up running out crying when they came close to where I sat."

The boy put a hand to his mouth, letting off a small giggle.

"Meanwhile, here you are, in the second layer of the Abyss, facing god knows what. Give yourself a pat on the back for that." Marulk nodded, "And uh... do not tell anyone else that story, Dah?"

"I won't" Marulk promised with a smile.

"Good."

The two of them arrived at a doorway, Marulk opening it to show a room with a comfy-looking futon in the middle, resting atop a piece of carved wood to simulate a bed. There was a closed window to the left, a table and chair facing against it as an unlit lantern hung from the ceiling. "I-I hope this room is to your liking, Worn."

"Oh, this is perfect." He turned to the boy. "Спасибо."

"Spicyba?" Marulk attempted to pronounce, Boryslav chuckling.

"Spasibo." Boryslav pronounced, "It is Russian for 'Thank you'."

"Oh, I've never heard many foreign words before you arrived." Marulk admitted.

"Then maybe someday, I will teach you a few words...-" A cheeky smile grew on Boryslav's face. "-maybe a few swears as well." Marulk gasped, putting a hand to his mouth at that last sentence.

"I could never-!"

"I kid, I kid!" He walked inside, "I am going to sleep now. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Worn." Marulk responded before closing the door, leaving him in darkness. Boryslav slumped forward into his bed, turning around to stare up at the ceiling.

He then reached to his side, producing his pistol as he hid it underneath his blanket.

Boryslav could feel the heat on his face as he stared at the burning engine of the wreckage. The pilots hadn't survived the crash, the cockpit of the Mi-8 now one with the mountain in an amalgamation of rock, glass, and twisted steel. It was a miracle that the exit from the back had collapsed open, otherwise the entire squad would have been roasted alive inside.

It had taken a while for the fire to finally die out, smoke consuming the orange air above.

Priority was quickly taken.

They were to set a perimeter and dig trenches around the crash site while a radio for Evac was sent out. Now all they had to do was sit tight and wait. This, however, did not mean they were idle. They went to work on setting up defenses and digging trenches, the squad commander helping oversee the effort and joining in. By the time they were finished, they had a defensible position, facing toward the bottom of the mountain.

And finally, night fell.

He was with Dimitri, an unloaded RPG slung behind his friend's back. They were both Grenadiers, Boryslav's rank as that of an assistant Grenadier as he held his AKS-74 steady.

"You know what my father would describe this situation?" Dimitri whispered, "'Up shit creek without a paddle'."

Boryslav turned his head, "Relax. Help should be on the way."

"Should..." Dimitri huffed.

Their senior rifleman, Maxim, turned his head. "I've been in worse shit than this and came out better." The veteran said with a chuckle, "They may have been given weapons, doesn't mean the Afghans know how to use them with discipline."

"They seemed to use those fucking Stingers just fi-"

Their sniper, a soldier holding an SVD sniper called out. "Movement below!"

The tension immediately rose, Boryslav holding in his breath as he tightened his grip on his rifle, Dimitri readying his RPG. Someone in the squad shot out a flare, the sky lighting up in red.

They watched as the entire mountain seemed to move, shapes climbing up the rocks as the squad commander practically roared out.

"CONTACT!"

Boryslav opened fire on the closest ones.

He bolted awake, breathing heavily for a moment. He looked around, noticing daylight streaming through the boards of his window.

Letting out some air, he flicked away the covers, leaving his pistol on the bed as he opened the window. He was taken aback at the beautiful view, the upside-down trees seemingly dancing to the distant wind. He leaned forward a little, feeling the soft breeze run through his hair before a knock on his door alerted him.

"Worn? I've prepared breakfast... if you are able." Marulk spoke.

"Dah,-" He closed the window, "Do not worry, I am not hungover." He opened the door to a surprised Marulk.

"T-Truly?" He looked away, "Usually Master is very affected."

Boryslav smirked, the two of them now walking down the hallway of moss. "So then I take it Ozen is still in bed after getting shitfaced last night?"

Marulk winced at the uncouth language, "Unfortunately. But she should be awake soon."

"Hm... it would be rude to start breakfast without her..." Boryslav then turned his head to Marulk, "How about a tour around this place while we wait, Dah?"

Marulk smiled, nodding. "As you wish."

It had to have been their sixth... or was it seventh?

Ozen felt as if she were about to collapse, eyes glazing over the pile of empty mugs. A smile could be seen across the table, face partially obscured by golden locks of hair.

"What's the matter, Ozen?" The smile widened, "You giving up already?"

Ozen awoke, black eyes staring directly up at the ceiling.

She felt the soft fabric of her bed, her recollection of last night finally returning. Marulk was incapable of carrying her, which meant the only person who could have bought her back to her bedroom would have been-

"... Tch."

The White Whistle simply vocalized before sitting up, her gloved hand feeling up her aching forehead. Last night had bought up some... troubled memories, ones that Ozen preferred to not think of less they became the focus of her nightmares.

What a bothersome man that person was.

Speaking of which, where was he?

"The seeker camp is built within the hollow of a Great Porta. Even now, there is still much of the hollow that has not been carved out for expansion." The boy looked up to the ceiling, "They say its roots extend all the way out to the ocean."

Boryslav whistled, "Big tree."

"Well, it's speculation."

The two arrived at a steep decline of tree roots, the only way down being a simple rope and wood ladder. Boryslav came up to the edge, Marulk already beginning the descent. "This is 10 meters less, Dah?"

Marulk nodded, "Indeed. You will not suffer the burden if you climb up."

The assurance was all Boryslav needed as he followed the maid down, reaching the bottom alongside the boy. They proceeded forth, passing a few carved hallways before arriving at the first location.

"This is the kitchen." Marulk introduced, smooth wood in place of moss for the walls of the room. Boryslav looked around, noticing the typical things such as a stove and cupboards.

What wasn't so typical was the gigantic metal freezer, as well as the faucetless sink, an open hole at the bottom showing off clouds in the layers below. Boryslav inspected the sink, confounded. "How the hell does this thing work?"

Marulk walked beside him, pulling a lever. A small wooden pipe lowered from the ceiling, a stream of water trickling straight down into the bowl. "There are many water sources in the tree above, and the roots act as a natural filter."

"Ah, I see." He then looked around, "I cannot imagine you carried the food up the lad-"

As if on cue, Marulk opened a giant cupboard, showing off a dumbwaiter built into the tree.

Boryslav was impressed. It was no mobile bunker that the Ecologists used for their lab, but it was still a clear show of ingenuity by the Delvers of Orth. He then turned his head to the freezer, "What about this? You have ice down here?" Marulk shook his head, walking up to open it.

Rows of meat were seen hanging from hooks, the maid gesturing to the end of the freezer. A strange device could be seen, drawing in the air and blowing out icy mist to replace it. "It uses a relic Master found in the 3rd layer. It is quite useful for keeping any meat fresh." Boryslav felt the air, feeling the chill on his unprotected self, which coincidently reminded him of something important?

He turned to Marulk, "How cold is the fifth layer?"

"Oh, I'm not sure." Marulk admitted, "Only Master has been down there, and Simred once... it was only recently that black whistles be allowed in the fifth layer."

"Then I suppose I will ask her later." He then began walking. "Where to next?"

Relics both dirt-worn and spotless could be seen everywhere as Boryslav and Marulk walked inside.

"This is-"

"The room for cleaning relics?" Boryslav guest, Marulk nodding.

"It also serves as the bathing room since the water is hot."

"Really?!" Boryslav exclaimed before giddily walking up to a running fount. He then tested it with his fingers, pulling them back upon feeling the satisfying heat. "Oho! That is nice!" He then turned his attention to the relics on the shelves, recently cleaned off. "What grade are these ones? Most look the same."

"Well, they vary. Some relics actually have very similar purposes, but are more complex in design the further you delve." Marulk grabbed two orb-looking relics off the shelves, "Like these two. This one was found in the first layer-" He then lifted the other, "-while this one was found in the fourth." True to his words, the deeper relic had a colorful shell around it, enveloping a portion of the outside.

"Huh, good to know." Boryslav noted, "Kind of like some artifacts having the same, but stronger, effect. Like a Jellyfish compared to a Bubble." He then rubbed his hands together, "And they are worth more?"

"Oh most definitely-"

A stomp bought their attention to the doorway, the covering separating to reveal Ozen.

"M-Master! You're awake-!"

"She lives!" Boryslav declared, not a hint of fear as he came up to the towering woman, peering up at her. "How do you feel?

She didn't answer, instead focusing her attention on the maid. "Is breakfast ready?"

Marulk nodded, "I will prepare the plates right away!" He then walked past Boryslav to leave the room, Ozen following behind without another word. Boryslav blinked, realizing he was left all alone.

"Ah..." He scratched the back of his head, "They completely ignored me..."

He then quickly ran out, following the two of them.

It was eggs... of some sort, a gigantic mess of yolk and egg white that covered the entire plate, pieces of meat stewed within.

But it was delicious and it was finished already.

He set down his fork, grabbing his AK and placing it atop the table. Ejecting the magazine, he went to work, taking the top off next as the gun became undone. Marulk watched with silent fascination, Ozen simply staring from the other side of the table. "What is it that you're doing?" Marulk asked.

Boryslav looked up, "Cleaning my gun." He answered, "I fired it yesterday, so I figured I might as well."

The boy blinked, "That's a musket?"

"Heh, something like that." Boryslav said with amusement, dragging a cloth to clean the breech.

"What's it called?"

Boryslav paused for a moment, considering its full name in English, before setting down the cloth and hefting the incomplete frame to show. "Back home, we call it Автома́т Кала́шникова, the Kalashnikov automatic rifle." He went back to cleaning, "Or AK if you are lazy like me."

Marulk looked at the weapon before Ozen spoke up.

"So it's not a relic. It's man-made."

Boryslav blinked, turning his head to the white whistle. "Dah."

He could feel her gaze bore into him, "Invented by your country."

"... Dah." The Stalker already sensed where she was going.

"And it is automatic, meaning it can shoot multiple times." Her black eyes seemed dead, "Meaning it can kill multiple times in quick succession."

"... Dah..."

She feigned disinterest, yet tenseness filled the air. "What country are you from."

"Gathering intel for the higher-ups of Orth." Boryslav thought as he looked to her, "Guess I might as well tell her the truth... not like the answer matters." He then gave a disarming smile, "Ukraine. Why?"

Ozen frowned, obviously unfamiliar with the name. "Is that near Beolsk?"

Boryslav chuckled, "Perhaps-"

He was silenced as Ozen slammed the table with a fist, a crack appearing on the wood as the plates rattled. Marulk flinched, eyes frantically peering between the two of them. She was standing now, slouched over and face to face with the Stalker. "Enough games." Her tone was something out of a nightmare, her darkened frown promising pain and death. "Where are you from?"

"And now it comes down to threats." Boryslav mused, "I suppose she just wants to ensure any threat to Orth and her Delvers is noticed by the higher-ups." Finally, Boryslav spoke up. "If you are worried my country would ever attack Orth with such weapons, then it is useless. They are beyond reaching it... and I am beyond reaching back."

She raised an eye before narrowing them.

A bell was then heard, Marulk's head perking up. "Oh! That's the indicator for the elevator! Simred and the others have returned!"

"They are here?" Boryslav looking away from Ozen, "Took them long enough, I was gonna leave without seeing them."

He pushed himself off from his seat, almost bumping into Ozen without a care as he grabbed his backpack, hoisting it over his shoulder. The Stalker turned to Ozen as Marulk climbed off his seat.

"Well? You coming?"

Boryslav stood by Ozen and Marulk as the chain was lifted up, the elevator coming into view.

Familiar faces were seen within, faces that lit up with recognition upon seeing Boryslav. The cage opened, Simred being the first to walk out with a smile. "Looks like you made it here in one piece." Simred chuckled, "Hope our leader didn't give you too much trouble."

The Stalker grunted, turning to the stoic white whistle as she stared forward. "You kidding me? She threw me around like a god damn toy." Boryslav then looked back, "But I had her beat where it mattered... drinking."

Simred's eyes widened, "Really? The last person to do that was-"

"Simred." Ozen spoke, her voice suggesting that the matter be dropped.

"Ahem, nevermind." Simred said with a nervous chuckle.

Zapo and Yelme came up beside the black whistle, the former analyzing Boryslav. "All of your gear is on. Are you leaving?"

"Dah." Boryslav nodded, "I will be on my way to the third layer in a few minutes." He chuckled, "This hello will also be my goodbye."

"Damn, what a shame." Yelme said before asking, "What layer will you be stopping at?"

Boryslav shrugged, cupping a considering hand beneath his chin. "Not sure yet, but I have been thinking of the fifth."

His answer shocked the Delvers, "The fifth layer?! Seriously!?" Yelme exclaimed in shock.

The reaction was probably to be expected, the equivalent was probably a rookie Stalker proclaiming his goal to enter the Chernobyl nuclear plant, an endeavor that was the equivalent of suicide. "If it helps, I will not be there for long." Boryslav gestured to his back, "Just long enough to fill my backpack with relics and fuck off."

"You say that like you'll find a bunch of them lying around." Zapo mused.

His Svarog detector suddenly felt heavy in his pocket. "Perhaps..."

Simred shook his head, "I've been down there twice, and it's nothing like the layers before it. There's danger at every corner, and death can be just as unexpected."

"If I die, I die." Boryslav smirked, "But if I live, then I get to rub it in all of your faces, ha!"

"We'll bet on that I guess..." Simred said with a sigh.

Boryslav turned to grab his gun which was leaning against the railing before a small voice spoke up.

"W-Worn." He turned his attention to a stuttering Marulk. "Are you really going to head to the fifth layer?"

"Dah." Boryslav simply responded.

"Then take this with you." Marulk held something out. It was a scarf, made up of warm green fur. "I-It's made with Furpong wool, it should help keep you warm if you manage to make it to the fifth layer."

He nodded, kneeling down to accept the gift as he opened his backpack, placing it inside. "Thank you, Little One. I will put your gift to good use." He smiled, giving Marulk a small salute. "I will be seeing you." He then stood up and turned around, "And that goes for the rest of you too."

"Hm, very well then. I wish you luck, Worn." Zapo responded.

"Same here." Yelme added.

"You're really gonna need it." Simred finished, his arms crossed.

"Heh..." Boryslav merely chuckled before making his way to the elevator.

Yet to his surprise, one last voice spoke up, one that he did not expect.

"Wait."

He turned around, Ozen walking forward as she stood in front, their difference in height made apparent as she stood a head over him. The white whistle looked down at him, her face unreadable

"If you value your life...-" Her features seemed to lighten ever so slightly, "Then don't go to Ido Front. Bondrewd is not as kind as I am..."

"Bondrewd?" Boryslav thought for a moment, realizing he had heard that name before, mentioned by the residents of Orth in reverence. "Another white whistle." He noted, "And Ozen considers him worse, just what the fuck-" He made sure to keep that in mind before realizing something. "Are you... worried about me?"

No teasing, no playfulness. It was a question asked earnestly.

Ozen was silent, yet her black eyes showed something deeper, something warmer. Boryslav gave a small smile, closing his eyes. "Guess you are not as irredeemable as I originally thought..."

She seemed surprised, the Stalker shrugging as he turned around.

"Hey, it is the best compliment you will get from me." He then looked back one last time, giving her a salute, "До свидания, Ozen." The elevator cage closed, locking him in as he put on his gas mask. He was then lowered, the lift in motion.

Oddly enough, she continued watching its descent, even as the others returned inside.

"Tch, not as irredeemable you say?"

She smiled, a normal genuine smile.

"What a bothersome man."

The entrance to the third layer was a sight to behold.

A few hours had passed since he finally left the Seeker Camp, the ground normal dirt once more instead of tree roots. His destination definitely earned its name.

The Great Fault.

Oddly enough, a light source seemed to radiate from within the giant circle, encompassing the dirt slopes with an afternoon luminosity. Boryslav decided to walk forward once checking if the coast was clear, coming up to the edge as he finished walking down from the slope.

Boryslav whistled.

"Holy shit."

True to his shock, the fault had to be massive, both in circumference and height. Wind seemed to naturally blow upward from within, creating a powerful draft. He peered over ever so slightly, noticing the distant dots of creatures flying in the middle.

"Better not stay here for too long." He looked around, recalling Taro's instructions. "Find a tunnel on the north side. Those are the ones the Delvers use."

Walking around whilst checking his position on the compass, he found a viable hole, one that was by the edge. Boryslav peered down, the darkness consuming any hope of vision.

"Fuck..." He then took off his backpack, "Well, luckily-" Boryslav produced a pair of night-vision goggles. "-I can cheat."

The Stalker set up a sturdy rope before holstering his rifle and bringing out his silenced pistol as to not deafen himself in the situation of having to fire. He then rappelled down, lowering the goggles as his vision became tinted with green, casting away the dark. It didn't take too long before he reached the bottom, slightly slouched as to avoid hitting his head on the roof of the cave. He looked back and forth, noticing a light to his right.

"Rappeling outside is suicide. Don't do it unless you have no other option." Taro voiced, causing Borylsav to turn away and traverse deeper into the tunnel. The deeper he went, the more uncomfy he became, and it wasn't because of claustrophobia. "So this is the type of shit the demolition units were dealing with..."

During the Afghan War, the Mujahideen would use the extensive underground Karez, ancient water systems that irrigated farmlands, to hide or transport supplies underneath.

How high they would blow up, dirt and rocks flying upward like a volcano.

He shook his head, dispersing the memory as he noticed something ahead. "Hmm?"

It was a small fuzzy creature, almost like a flattened squirrel with a cat's face. It looked up at him with its blank beady eyes, not even possessing an adequate survival instinct to run away.

A Neritantan.

"... How do you even survive down here?" Boryslav asked, knowing it would not speak back. However, he partially received his answer, noticing a whole bunch more of Neritantan further down the cave, nibbling on vegetation. "Guess outbreeding extinction always works." They paused their task, blankly staring up at him as Boryslav walked past.

He went further down, mindfully watching his foot as to avoid stepping on the unaware rodents and taking his time to carefully inspect the tunnels ahead. It seemed as if it extended further, Worn making his way forward as the cave opened up. He looked around, stalagmites hanging from the ceilings as droplets of water echoed throughout.

Boryslav sighed, a motto of the Russian pioneers coming to mind. "Always prepared..."

The Stalker pressed on, silenced M1911 trained on any potential dangers. The night vision added an eery feeling to the experience, the reflections of puddles below adding fake glows to his sight.

Suddenly, a noise was heard ahead.

He whipped his arm forward, pistol pointed toward the source. However, he was quickly disappointed (and relieved) that it was simply another Neritantan, having stirred a rock and now sipping from a puddle. Boryslav let out a chuckling sigh, his body still tense as he lowered the weapon.

Yet his attention was immediately garnered at the rock behind it, quickly raising his pistol again.

Boryslav then paused at the sight.

Dead animals were scattered everywhere down the tunnel, both predators and prey, some showing signs of decay. The drinking Neritantan looked up from its source before stumbling forward, making it halfway to Boryslav before slumping atop the ground, its beady eyes becoming glossy.

It was dead.

Boryslav suddenly felt a strong urge to turn around and go the other way, keeping a distance from where the Neritantan died.

"What the hell is going on here? Looks like every animal that entered this part of the cave simply died." He focused his gaze on the puddle, "Is it the water source? Possible contamination? Or...-" He felt a chill on his hand, Boryslav peering down to rub his fingers together. "The air is less dense." The Stalker then peered up, noticing bits of dust flakes and dirt drifting through the air.

But there was no wind.

"Gas." Boryslav quickly concluded, thankfully having already worn his gas mask to avoid exposure.

It was not unexpected, with how deep the abyss possibly went and how most of the third layer was a network of subterranean tunnels, pockets of natural gas could easily exist. What troubled him, however, was the fact that there was seemingly no warning within Taro's book. "Guess the old man never encountered anything like this. But that would mean someone had to have recently disturbed it."

He was taken from his thoughts by a source of light at the end of the cave, Boryslav blinking behind his gas mask.

"Wait light-?"

He heard voices down the cave, footsteps echoing. Boryslav immediately called out in a muffled voice, tone echoing down the cave.

However, the light seemed to flicker... almost like that of a...

"Fire."

Boryslav's eyes widened like saucers before shouting his lungs out.

"STOP! THERE IS GAS! PUT OUT YOUR LIGHT, DELVER!"

If they had heard, they gave no response, the source instead pausing. And then it seemed to continue even faster, the illuminance that reflected off the walls now growing to signify that they were turning a corner.

"Блядь!" He cursed before turning around and breaking into a mad sprint in the other direction. Whether or not he would look like a fool would soon be known.

And how quickly he received the answer as he felt a surge of heat lick at his back.

Boryslav felt his insides rattle as he was practically thrown forward by the force, ears deafened and almost falling face forward against the cave floor as his hands caught him. Dust and dirt rushed up, enveloping his surroundings and obscuring his night vision, the cave behind him completely collapsing.

"Move!" Boryslav screamed internally, trained instincts pushing himself up from the ground, albeit now stumbling as the entire tunnel shook. He felt rocks fall around him as a sudden harsh wind blew against him, almost as if the applied force was returning back where it came.

Which meant that an even larger explosion may have been imminent.

Somehow, he made it to the opening, a shaky hand grasping onto the side as he cleared his lenses of dirt. A few Neritantan came up beside him, their clean fur now completely covered with dirt and soot. One of them came too close to the edge, a few pebbles giving way before it went right off. Boryslav flinched as one of the many flying predators reacted, immediately snatching up the falling rodent as it flew past, stirring him from his shock.

The Stalker was suddenly made aware of just how many predatory creatures had amassed in the chasm below. Like sharks that had sensed blood in the water, the creatures of the Abyss were simply waiting for the food to come to them.

"... You've gotta be fucking kidding me..." Boryslav simply said.

Luckily he had an emergency plan.

A desperate plan.

The only plan.

He turned to the rest of the Neritantan, his eyes growing sorrowful behind his gas mask.

"I'm sorry, little ones..."

Boryslav grabbed all three of them by the tail, tossing them off the edge as a distraction.

The predators were stirred into a frenzy, chasing the easy snacks, Boryslav's chances now improved for what he was about to do.

He took in a moment to breathe.

And then he jumped.

The wind whipped against Boryslav's ears, his hood falling back as the anticipated second explosion arrived, an earth-shattering boom echoing throughout the giant fault. His VDV training kicked in, putting his arms by his side as he fell headfirst to gain speed, ignoring the debris falling around him. A winged predator seemed to notice him, but was immediately smashed by one of the many flying stones, a few others following its fate.

Ironically, the second explosion forced many of the predators to retreat, allowing Boryslav to safely continue his suicidal fall down the 3rd layer.

Suicidal if he had not prepared a small detail.

The emergency strap.

He pulled it, a parachute springing from the top portion of his backpack before coming to life, spreading itself to gather as much air and slowing his fall. It was a precaution born from paranoia, the possibility that a space anomaly could simply place him above a survivable height.

It finally found its use in the Abyss as Boryslav turned his head upward, peering past his parachute to see the chaos he had left behind. The tunnel was now just a gigantic chunk of collapsed rock, predatory flyers screeching around it. The Stalker turned back, shaking his head as he cemented his opinion of countless explorations of underground labs and bunkers... the recent experience adding another notch to the list.

"I fucking hate being underground."

Boryslav guiding the ram-air parachute as he disappeared beneath the murky clouds of the 4th layer.

Wow, I had to have rewritten this chapter about 4 times. The hardest ironically is never the action but rather the character interactions and such. It's hard, and unfortunately, I have to also deal with a ton of real-life stuff, it really burns me out, but it's necessary. Even as I write this I still ironically feel unsatisfied, so I'll just have to hope that you guys enjoy it despite having to wait so damn long.

Sorry.

But, on the flip side, I'm not planning to ever really drop this story. There may be long periods of radio silence, but you can bet that at some point the chapter is gonna get out there.

Anyhow, writing the third layer was a blast, no pun intended. I had to do a little research on how gas pockets and etc worked. If you are wondering why there was a second explosion, I believe what happens during a firedamp explosion is that the first explosion actually opens up the gaspocket further, causing more methane gas to seep out and potentially explode again into an even bigger one. Pretty cool stuff.

And there's also the Parachute.

I've basically been hinting at that device since chapter 4 and 6, the 'emergency strap' Boryslav was keen to maintain. Now you know why, and it surprisingly made sense when I came up with the idea a while back. Boryslav is a Stalker and was a VDV after all, an airborne spetsnaz, so it makes sense that he'd have it as a precaution in case a pesky space anomaly drops him at cloud height. That's paranoia for you.

Выглядит вкусно - Vyglyadit vkusno - Looks delicious

До свидания - Do svidaniya - Goodbye