One Year Later

Artyom laid in his bunk, tired, but awake. He couldn't sleep because of the nightmares of what happened on that day the bombs were used, not against man, but against a new race of mutants that threatened Exhibition. Why did he consider himself guilty of defending his home? Why? It felt as if destroying the Dark Ones had still left him unsatisfied in how it ended. Why was he saddened by killing such creatures of the surface?

Ever since the destruction of the Dark Ones, Artyom knew the man he was a long time ago was very different compared to right now. Back then, he was a timid man who knew little of the world outside of traders, books kept by Alex, and the news brought to him by Hunter. At the thought of Hunter, Artyom knew he was the person who caused him to leave his home and take up his quest.

It felt strange to him. He was thrusted into the harsh world and became part of one of the most well-respected organizations in the Metro, the Polis Rangers. Artyom kept reminding himself on how he admired the Rangers for being the knights that fought against the waves of mutants who dared to extinguish the remaining life of humanity. Such a transition reminded him of the tale of King Arthur and his Order of Knights. Artyom was sure that Alex would disapprove of his involvement with the Polis Ranger, but there was a sense of worthiness than being the timid young man who used to work the mushroom plots.

The Ranger sat up in his bunk as he reached for his journal beside his bed. There were few things left in this bunker to do for enjoyment, but he didn't mind that. He flipped through the pages and began to reread the passages of his experience ever since he left his home in that small handcart.

Artyom could remember the people he met across his time throughout the Metro and remember their fates. There were some who died at the hands of another or at the hands of mutants. Although Colonel Miller told him not to write about the events of D6, a bunker-complex, in his journal, he felt obligated to have it written anyway. It was to honor the Rangers who joined the search party, but had died at the hands of the mutants. One of them, died to protect him and it felt disgraceful to simply forget about that man despite his short time with him.

A distinct growl echoed from his stomach as he chuckled at the first thought that came into mind. "I better eat." The Ranger commented.

The mess hall was large enough to hold a dozen or more men, but the cooks hoped that they didn't have to worry about that issue so long as everyone was not lining up to ask them for food. After Artyom was given his mushroom soup mixed with some chunks of well-prepared rat meat, he looked to the cook across the table with a smile. "Thank you, Kutuzov"

A smile greeted back from the bald man. "No problem, Artyom. You found D6, I think you earned a bit more than the usual."

"But that was a year ago. You don't have to treat me any better."

"Kid, finding this place saved most of my problems. I say otherwise." Kutuzov replied. "Now you go have a fine lunch."

Artyom departed from the table as he took his seat at an empty table in the middle of the room. Even though it was set beside the windows to watch people pass by, there was enough space for everyone. The Ranger looked in his bowl and found the irony behind the situation of the rodent meat floating beside his mushrooms. Rats were the rodents that killed his mother. Was this poetic justice from god to allow him a chance at vengeance? Artyom wouldn't ask that question, but the thought never left his mind as he placed his spoon into bowl.

When he had begun to let the soup of mushroom and rat meat fill into his mouth, it felt like pure heaven. The cooks of the Polis Rangers claimed to be the best at filling the mouths of a dozen soldiers with a few key ingredients that only they know. He couldn't blame them for being so secretive about preserving humanity without dealing with starvation.

While he continued to eat into his bowl, he withdrew his journal from his satchel and began to flip through the pages of his life once more. This time, he wasn't looking for an epic moment where he killed both Nazis and Reds before he arrived at D6. It was something he couldn't forget when she disappeared. Artyom could recall her face despite his short time with her as he turned the page one more time.

His eyes fell upon his own drawing that had earned its own page. It was a drawing of Winter, but with the clothes she wore of the Metro. Drawing those details was quite easier compared to the other set of clothes. She was pretty despite her serious expression.

A hand reached to his journal and was pulled out of his hand. "Oh boy, look what we have here?" A man commented behind his back. "Someone has been drawing a picture of quite a lovely young woman."

Artyom rose from his seat and began to confront the fresh-shaven man looking at his journal. "Give it back."

The man's eyes were focused on the drawing itself instead of the owner. "Sorry, I just have to admire how much I'd like to fuck someone like her." Then he turned his gaze onto the young man in front of him. "Oh, it's you Artyom." The Ranger commented. "I didn't know you."

He tried to reach for it, but the man kept it out of reach with his superior height.

"Maybe I should have some time to admire this myself. Would you mind if I take this one?"

Then a complaint was given, not by Artyom, but by Kutuzov. "Christ's sakes, Boris, give the kid back his journal."

Boris turned his full gaze onto the cook. "Why should I? It took me years to be from a cadet to end up as a Ranger and somehow this piece of shit gets a free pass."

Artyom smiled at the situation as he recognized a familiar face when the entrance to the mess hall was opened. It was Uhlman, the man who recognized Hunter's tags when he finally found his way to the Rangers. Everyone knew him as the bad joker, but he expressed a degree of seriousness that he once saw in Colonel Miller. The senior Ranger began to step into the situation and caught Boris off-guard. "What the hell is this shit?!" He demanded.

Boris turned around and began to smile in his presence. "Uhlman, good to see you. What brings you here?"

"I noticed something was going on in the mess hall from the fitness room." Uhlman's eyes were like a hawk, but they tightened when his gaze recognized the journal. "Why do you have Artyom's journal? Leave him be."

He was distracted with his conversation with Uhlman and it was time to take back what was his as he snatched his journal back from the Ranger. "What the hell?" Of course, Boris was angry at this deceptive decision.

"Boris, don't bother Artyom. He's been through enough."

"Enough?" Wondered the Ranger as he turned his full attention on Uhlman, who had just crossed his arms. "Artyom does not deserve to be a Ranger, he should not be here eating among us. He's still a goddamn boy. What makes him so different from us?"

"Hunter trusted him, he trusted Artyom with enough that he gave his own tags to him just to warn Polis and Colonel Miller of the situation. This 'boy' has saved the Metro from the threat of the Dark Ones and most of all, he was with me, Miller, and Vladimir when we discovered D6. The Order, Polis, and the Council owes him for allowing us to be even allowed to walk in these very rooms." Uhlman answered in a vindictive manner. "If you have a problem with him, then go shit up a rope."

Taken aback by the lengthy reply, Boris lowered his head as he began to walk out of the mess hall in shame and he deserved it. Artyom had heard a few rumors about Uhlman being ruthless when someone disrespected another who earned respect, but he was sure they were true to a degree. Uhlman began to join Artyom at his table without a bowl.

"Artyom, you seem to be doing fine." Of course, it was a sarcastic comment about the situation that just happened earlier as he too noticed Artyom's drawing of Winter. "Say kid, whose she?" Unlike the Ranger named Boris, Uhlman's tone was like a concerned sibling if not an uncle.

Artyom took another spoonful into his mouth savoring the seasoning and the well-cooked food into his stomach. Then he glanced over to the picture feeling saddened by the events that had just transpired at that moment. "She was a friend who helped me out when I left my home to warn you guys about the Dark Ones." He replied. "Winter, that was her name."

"Say, what happened to her?" Uhlman asked as Artyom handed his journal to him. "Why wasn't she there when I found you?"

"The Dark Ones took her. One second I wasn't paying attention and next she was gone." Artyom felt a hand on his shoulder as he looked at the friend across the table.

"For all its worth, I'm sorry to hear that. I guess this Winter a good friend to you, wasn't she?"

"Yes, she was sometimes serious, but I could say she was pretty."

"Well, you better finish up. Colonel Miller is getting a team of Rangers up on the surface to fight a mutant and you're going with them." Uhlman said as he handed the journal back to the younger man.

"Let me finish my meal."

"Don't worry, take your time."

When Artyom had entered the briefing room, he found Uhlman standing on his side of the room with two other Rangers. They were waiting for him as Colonel Miller crossed his arms. "Artyom, your finally here. Are you ready?" The older man asked as he scratched his beard.

The young man nodded his head to him. "Yes sir, I have no excuse for taking too much time."

"Excuse noted, Artyom, but it's time to get serious about this." The colonel began. "This morning at 8:03 AM we found a mutated bear running around the entrances to D6."

Artyom looked to his left and noticed that one of the Rangers was a woman. "A bear?" She asked. "What's a bear doing here?"

"I don't know, Anna, but you four need to get to the surface and kill that bear before we lose a Ranger there."

Then Uhlman began to speak his mind. "Colonel, aren't we dealing with Nazis patrolling the surface? Wouldn't it be nice to let it stay there and deal with anyone who tries to look for an entrance?"

"As much as I want to keep the Nazis and the Reds out, the Order needs direct access surface in case the line to Polis is shut down. Having to deal with that bear is not something I want to deal with if something happens." Colonel Miller replied as he turned his full attention onto the fourth person in the group. "Lesnitsky, you haven't said a single word. Do you want to speak your mind on the mission?"

Artyom took notice of the man keeping his hands behind his back and standing tall in the presence of the colonel. "Colonel, my concern about this mission is that we might encounter some Nazi Stalkers. If we do contact them, what is are orders?"

Miller nodded in approval. "Good question, Lesnitsky. If you find a Nazi patrol, you stay the fuck away from them at all costs. We don't want to trade any gunfire with those men if you can help it. If you have no other choice, then eliminate them and don't let anyone escape. Any more questions?"

Then Artyom took the opportunity to speak his mind. "Sir, where was the beast last sighted?"

The colonel's expression changed with concern for the young man. "The Botanical Gardens, it's where you killed the Dark Ones."