General Hazama was glad that he was out of his office. He had spent most of his days committed to paperwork and dealing with politics behind the scenes that it was a blessing to finally be outside. At the front of the gate, he waited for an important individual who was given permission into the Special Region. His aides stood beside him in silence as he looked into the depths of the gate to see headlights in the distance.

Three cars arrived at their destination as they decelerated and slow down before the general. Once they stopped, the doors opened to reveal dozens of people stepping out of their seats with the distinct blue kevlar and helmets. Two letters 'U.N.' were printed in white upon their gear as they stepped out with weapons for their own protection. Hazama would nod in the approval given the unique situation that the Special Region presented.

A woman with sunglasses stepped out from the center car and revealed her tied up blonde hair. "You must be General Hazama, correct?"

He nodded his head in confirmation. "Are you the UN inspector that I have been told about?"

"Yes," She gave out her hand and the general eagerly shook it, "My name is Meghan Castellano, it is good to meet you. When will I meet the Russians?"

"Allow me to gather up an escort force before we send you over to the second gate."

"Very good, general."

Artyom opened his eyes as he awoke from his slumber after his violent encounter with the boars. He smelled something in the air as he slowly sat up from his spot after a long and exhausting time trying to kill the large one. The young man tried to get his senses to bear, but as he looked around, his weapons were no longer on his person and his backpack was nowhere to be found. "What happened to them?"

When he observed his surroundings, he was in a tent as a commotion was occurring outside of the flaps. Curiosity had got his attention as he stepped out of the tent to be met by camp made up of soldiers, some of their armor looked familiar to him as their eyes turned towards him. Then he recognized that these men were clad in armors similar to the bandits he fought at Italica. These strangers were tense and some of them had placed their hands on the hilts of their weapons, ready to draw their blades at a moment's notice. Yet, they did not strike him down.

It was a bit childish, but Artyom merely waved his hand and braved an awkward smile to the men who lived in this camp. "Hello."

A man, who was the nearest to the campfire, rose up from his comfortable seat on a rock and walked towards him. He was a menacing sight of pure armor as he reached for his helmet and raised his visor above his face. "You're awake. I suppose you have a lot of questions, don't you?"

Artyom shook his head. "Yes, I do."

"Do not be afraid, stranger. We may be deserters of our armies, but we have no desire to stoop so low to banditry." The stranger replied as he groomed his mustache with his gauntlet, "The lads and I found you unconscious against a dead boar. I have to say, not a lot of people have that much courage to kill a boar in such a close range. How are you feeling?"

His body ached in exhaustion. "I am a bit tired."

He looked over his shoulder and glanced at a man who stood near the center of the campfire with a pot over the flames. "Fetch him a bowl, please? He could use a warm meal."

"Who are you?"

The stranger walked towards a log that was used as a bench near the fire as the other kept their eyes on Artyom. "My name is Proclus, I used to be a men-at-arm for the vassal kingdoms, but after the kings and princes were killed I left along with many others," When they took a seat near the fire, the cook passed a bowl over to the young man as he continued further, "Now that I introduced myself, what is your name?"

Before the Polis Ranger decided to dig into his stew, he knew it would be bad manners if he did not answer his host. "Artyom, my name is Artyom. I'm not from around here."

"I can definitely see that. It looks like you one of those men from beyond the gate. What brought you to this forest?" Proclus asked.

"My comrades and I were invited by Emperor Molt and we formed a delegation where I would talk as a representative of my people. Well, I am not exactly sure how things will go if I don't make it to Sadera."

The mention of his mission had sparked a reaction from the deserter. "You are surprisingly well-armed to be a diplomat. So what do you intend to do?"

"I was thinking about trying to find that delegation group and if I can't, I'll try to meet up at Sadera there instead. The problem is that I don't know the way." Artyom answered.

"That is good. If you had not told me this, we would have strung you up from these branches," Replied Proclus, "We all thought you were a manhunter of sorts, but it appears that you have no quarrel with us. I think we can help you get to Sadera."

He was surprised by the man's offer to help. "You would really help me get there?"

The men-at-arm nodded his head. "These men and I were just about to break camp and make our way home, but then we stumbled upon you. So will you accept our help despite abandoning our armies?"

This stranger reminded Artyom of a good soul who was about to be executed by his own commanding officer for abandoning his post. Somehow, the memory showed his way here. "Yes. I have met some decent deserters in my travels, so I will take your word for it."

"Let us go then, for we shall need to move and avoid the manhunters."

The Church was surprisingly a calming place for the Third Recon Team as they rested and recovered from their travel in the Metro tunnels. Although there were occasional howls of mutants outside of the building and the unrelenting winds, Lieutenant Itami was surprised at how calming it was for the Russians who were stationed here. At the same time, his people were unnerved by these alien moments where a horde of mutants could possibly come in, only to bypass the people inside.

The second floor was tremendously dangerous to lurk around due to the poor maintenance of the building. Had it not been for the wooden railings, anyone could have fallen off and landed on the first floor. The lieutenant approached the desk that Uhlman was sitting in as he smoked his cigarette over his important papers and documents. "So what comes next?"

He looked up from his work and glanced at the window on his right. "Right now, we want you to report all of your thoughts about this place and take in as much information as possible. This might seem like a boring way to do things, but it is also the safest as well. As you can figure out, we get large waves of mutants outside, and sending someone out there might result in an unintended casualty. In other words, this is the best we can do."

"I see. Honestly, I would do the same if I was in your position," Itami replied, "I tend to be a lazy person, but I try to do my job so I can have more time to be lazy."

Uhlman chuckled at his comment. "What a strange and funny philosophy. I wish I could do the same in my job, but I would rather have the colonel yell at me than have him pick some poor sod who probably lacks my… charismatic perspective."

"Is it why you tell jokes, all the time?"

"Da," He answered, "The colonel is a sour old guy and I just so happen to be the comedian who fulfills his criteria of being a good soldier."

The lieutenant smiled as he walked over to the window and looked outside. The world was far too alien for him to accept that this was Earth a long time ago. Yet, it is. He waited for the time to pass as his other means were unable to adjust to the post-apocalypse landscape. It was hard to play games on his phone when he had no internet to connect to.

Uhlman broke the silence. "So what is with that girl?"

Itami turned around and saw him stuff his cigarette into his ashtray. "What?"

"The elf, what is up with her? I notice she is quite closer to you than the mage girl and the one with the halberd."

He took the moment to lean against the wall that was beside the window. "She is a complicated mess, but one that I have to take care of myself. Do you remember when we told you that story about that dragon?"

The Russian nodded his head. "It relates to that, doesn't it?'

"Yes. You see, the dragon attacked her village and burned it to the ground. When I found her…" He was reluctant to say his next words, ". . . she was traumatized to the point that she mistakes me for her father."

"Post-traumatic stress disorder, it's not something I wish on anyone. I know what you mean. Not even Artyom is spared from that."

Lieutenant Itami raised his eyebrows at the mention of the young man. "Artyom? He doesn't look the part."

"He certainly does not, but when I met him for the second time he was… different," Uhlman explained, "Before he was inducted into the Order, he was passing by a station called Paveletskaya. The people of that station were under attack by the mutants there and he joined the defense. His squad fought hard to save as many as they could, only he survived. He's gotten better since then."

"I suppose everyone has their own skeletons in the closet despite being worlds apart."

"I suppose so," Uhlman was about to return his gaze upon his papers before he rose from his seat and walked towards the window beside the lieutenant. "Itami, come near the window and check if I am seeing things."

He turned around and joined him with only glass preventing the two from breathing toxic air. There was some movement in the distance as a bright light flickered on and off. "Is that normal?"

"The poor guy is blinking three times," He replied, "It's a stalker's SOS signal. Get your gear, we're going to meet with him."

The Russian and the Japanese officer stepped down the stairs as they entered the empty garage floor with the JSDF personnel checking their belongings. "Everyone, get your gear ready."

One of the Polis Rangers at his radio station had slipped his headset off of his ears. "What is going on?"

Uhlman grabbed his gas mask and made a loud order. "Gas masks on! I'm opening the garage!" When it was clear enough to the church's occupants, they immediately slipped on their gas masks as the Ranger reached for a spare assault rifle from the armory.

Itami quickly reached for his weapon as he glanced at two others. "Tomita, Kuribayashi, follow me. Someone needs our help."

A button was pressed as the garage door was slowly opened up and the small fireteam stepped out into the landscape. Their Geiger counters were activated by the radioactive winds and they felt the cold Russian winter through their uniforms. Unlike the lieutenant's time at the window, he saw more than just one person trying to reach them. As it turned out, there were dozens of people trying to make their way towards the church. Some were armed with makeshift firearms while others were simply carrying plenty of luggage in their hands and upon their backs.

The girl amongst their group spoke up. "Who are they?"

Uhlman spoke up. "They're surface traders. You can calm down, they're traders."

Itami looked around and found a flying creature descending upon the civilians. "Look up!" The Ranger and the Japanese soldiers did so and as it was about to reach for one of the men, they all open fired alongside the trading guards to deter the creature from its prey. One-by-one, they managed to slip past the defensive protection of the soldiers while they covered their backs. Each man was thanking them and praying as they entered into the safety of the church.

When the last man ran past them, he felt the Ranger tap him by the shoulder. "Inside, quickly!"

The party of four immediately ran back as someone closed the garage doors on their way in. Everyone breathed heavily as the wave of adrenaline came over them and the situation calms down. One of the traders yelled out in happiness. "I'm glad we made it."

Itami stood beside Uhlman and voiced his concern. "Does this happen all the time?"

He nodded his head. "Every now and then. We should count ourselves lucky that the demon is not insistent in trying to get inside. That would be bad for everyone and we would all be forced to flee into the tunnels."

"Yeah, it would be terrible," Itami replied and a funny thought came into his mind, "If I do return back to the Special Region, what kind of drink would you like?"

There was a smile on his face. "It isn't vodka, I am certain of that."

Three black cars arrived in the camp as Meghan looked through the window to see the locals of the Special Region settling down next to the second gate. It was nothing like what the Japanese had set up in their location, but it seemed like these people were trying to make due with what they had. There were wooden towers occupied by soldiers clad in Russian equipment, but they were equipped with Frankensteins of weapons or armor. The latest leaks were quite accurate with what they were.

The convoy went to an abrupt halt as the convoy was intercepted by dozens of these Russian post-apocalypse survivors. Seeing them in person was quite a unique experience as they were quite lax in their inspection as she opened the door and slowly stepped out of the car. Meghan had expected them to be a bit more strict and untrustworthy of outsiders due to their background, but a part of her was relieved they were being reasonable. It would make her job tremendously easier.

One of the armored men approached her as he raised his visor above his eyes. It was surprisingly knightly for him to do that. Then she was shocked when he spoke in perfect English. "Hello there, what's this convoy supposed to be?"

She was quick to reply. "I am the UN Inspector that came here to check the state of the situation in regards to your people. I thought your people were made up of Russians."

He shook his head. "The Russians were not the only ones to survive the bombs. My name is Samuel Taylor, I'm an American part of the Order."

Meghan could not believe what she was being told off. The leaks spoke about how much they were all Russians, but to see an American in their ranks as their soldiers was a bit of surprise. "How did an American end up here?"

"I was a marine guard at the US embassy in Moscow. When the bombs fell, I immediately joined many others into the Metro and the rest is history." He answered.

"My report is going to be a fascinating one at that."

"So how are things going in America?"

"They're doing fine. What state are you from?"

He smiled. "San Diego, California. My favorite baseball team is the Padres."

"What a coincidence, I'm from California as well."

She looked past him to find an older man with a scruffy beard join them. He spoke in his native tongue before Sam turned around and reported to him. It was clear that he was his superior. The man was understanding of the situation and then he turned his full attention towards her. "You are a UN inspector, correct?"

"Yes. My name is Meghan Castellano. I am here to see the situation of this refugee camp you got here."

"Good, I have much to discuss with you."

The deserters had given Artyom back his belongings after they had broke camp, something he was grateful for. However, they even went so far as to give him his own horse. Yet, it was not just any horse. Apparently, it used to belong to a knight who was struck by a bullet and bled to death. It was a large beast compared to the previous mount he had, but he had to be careful since warhorses were their own breed of issues.

They were definitely going to bring him to Sadera; however, the men were cautious about marching into the open and being at the mercy of the manhunters. They only had under a hundred men and while they were armed, it was preferable to avoid combat at all. Instead, they followed trails that were off the beaten path to reach their destination. It was a slower method of transportation, but it was safe for them.

Artyom acknowledged that their needs took priority over his and somehow he managed to earn their respect. He followed Proclus in the woods while they maintained enough distance to see what happened outside of them. They could see the road in the open, but those who would walk upon them would not.

The former men-at-arm warrior talked. "So the emperor of Sadera personally requested your presence in his court? Few have the privilege to have such an honor, especially such as men of our stations. It would be nice to go there myself."

He turned his head towards the visored warrior. "Perhaps you can. I know that all of you are deserters, but how about you join me in the city to stop living like one."

Several of the men laughed with Proclus among them. "It is a wonderful idea, but I would rather not take that chance. If the emperor found out that we abandoned our liege lords and kings, he would gladly take a rope around our necks. We are going so far as to the outskirts of the capital city, no more than that."

"I completely understand. Perhaps I can convince him to absolve you of your situation and state that you and your men make for excellent guides."

"We would have to risk a lot on the line just to take that risk. It sounds nice, but sometimes things can go poorly for us."

A soldier behind their backs had caught their attention. "Everyone, stop moving. I see something."

Proclus turned around with his horse. "What's happening?"

"There is an army marching on the road. Wait until they pass."

The moment he mentioned that detail, Artyom looked through the trees to see the movement of a large formation of soldiers marching together. They spoke in a song-like tone as cavalry were riding past them. Then Proclus noted their arrival. "Equites, we mind as well wait until we're free to move. We don't have much to do against that."

Author's Note: It is not dead, I just haven't updated the chapters on this site. If you guys checked out SpaceBattles, you would be ahead by a few chapters. Chapter 24 is currently being worked on in the midst of the work.

randomidiot1816: You're asking that from a guy who walked into the Moscow State Library and lived?

x-x-TheBurnedMan-x-x: I usually don't abandon stories without reason. There is a tendency of mine to be very quiet until the next chapter.

Ger0nim0: I really don't have anything to say since it is mainly spoiler territory.

Shadow: I appreciate the response and your thoughts on the story.

Darksonic: Indeed.

Psihopatul: Yeah, cliffhangers are usually good to use every now and then.

De4dlyW0lf: Thanks.

Paul Lenzen: Here's another one down your alley.

OpenMystery: There are several issues with the introduction of the Aurora. One part is that there are no train tracks to put in place, so its usage is severely limited unless someone is willing to pay for the infrastructure of a rail network in the Special Region... in the middle of a warzone. In regards to the other vehicles from the Metro, I find that it will be a short-lived existence given what else I'm involving.

Khebarovsk: You're welcome.

Scoolio: Thank you.

Lier Olivares: I just did.

BooplkanThePrimarch: It will be a limited experience.

arixlsmn: Yes, still am. I'm just lazy to get stuff updated on this site.

Guest: Now you can start reading.

Gaspatchu: Again, it will be a limited experience.