The return to Polis Station regained its charm after what Elsa had been through. It was a lighthouse to all of the horrors this world brought upon its people and she was relieved to be back to civilization. Her servants were waiting for her and she shocked them with a tale of survival and how lucky they were not to be in any danger whatsoever. The station's atmosphere was surprisingly calming during her stay.

The apartment was quiet as she looked out the window, looking down on the busy 'streets' below. People moved on with their lives as if the apocalypse wasn't there with children being playful and old men fishing in the river. Their ability to cope with this reality was something she had no words to describe. The crown princess wondered if she could ever be the same after coming here.

Elsa's attention was turned away when someone started to knock on her door. She shifted around on the couch beside the seat, preparing to see who her guest was. "You can come in."

When the permission was granted, Elsa saw an old man enter the room with a tray full of tea. "Good evening, young queen."

"I'm not a queen, yet," She blushed before the realization of this odd arrival, "I didn't request for any tea."

He smiled at her assessment. "It is surprising to find a winter flower such as you in a corrupted garden, but I suppose you will be leaving soon."

Her gaze took a good look at his clothing. There was an assortment of charms and bracelets on his person. Parts of his beard were twisted as if he had a cultural reason to do so. "Who are you?"

"I go by many names," The old man replied as he placed the tea in front of her and passed a cup to her, "but Artyom knows me as Khan."

"You are an acquaintance of Artyom?" She wondered.

Khan nodded his head as he took a seat across the table. "Yes. You could say that I was a… mentor of sorts. I was also the one who told him you were in danger."

Elsa was surprised at his knowledge. "You were not on the train and I would have recognized you. How did you know?"

"The Metro has its mysteries," He added, "You are a stranger in a strange world, much like Artyom. However, you and your sister were not as experienced as he was in getting around." It did not assure her that this man was someone off the street, but she had no idea what he was capable of.

"Then what brings you here? There has to be more to this occasion than the tea and a simple talk."

The fascinating stranger took a sip of his tea. "Almost everybody lives mundane lives, your grace, but you are not everybody. I could sense the fantastical the moment you and your sister arrived in this shattered world. The power of winter is at your fingertips; however, you are still a novice to the strange because you have repressed it out of fear."

The princess did not know how to react to his comment. She did not tell the people of this world about that part of her life aside from Artyom. Elsa trusted him long enough to know that he would keep his knowledge to himself unless he spoke to him about it. "Did Artyom tell of my powers? He must have mentioned that when you talked to him. It should be impossible for you to figure that out."

"It should be impossible," Khan began, "but the bombs changed everything. The things people shouldn't know are known and the things people should see are seen. Once upon a time, this place was normal like your world. Yet, the strange happened and the veils of reality falling apart like a broken mirror. Those, like myself, were well-adjusted to the changes of two decades."

His strange description of what he considered the 'fantastical' had somehow provided some form of logic for her. However, his tone changed the atmosphere of the room. She heard a howling wind haunt through the room as the candles in the apartment flickered. All she could do was ask a simple question. "Just what are you?"

There was a small laugh from him. "A guide of sorts. Who I truly am is something you can talk to Artyom about."

"Like what?" She asked, "Are you asking me to tell him something you know?"

"No, you're going to tell him what you saw about his past," He answered, "Your powers took a glimpse of a time when he was young and his father doing everything he could to protect him."

It was at this moment that she became afraid of him. "The fact that you know enough about me is disturbing. No one should have known about that except me. I did not tell my sister nor anyone for the matter of that fact."

Khan took another sip from his cup. "Again, I am a man who deals with the fantastical and the shadows tell me much about life."

All of this to tell Artyom about that piece of fact. "This meeting is just so I tell Artyom about his father? Why go through all the trouble?"

"Artyom is a good man, but his soul is lost from the past," He began, "He needs to make peace with it before it dictates his decisions like the one with the Dark Ones." For much of the strangeness he brought forward, there was genuine compassion.

The mere mention of those creatures reminded her of her first encounter. "You're talking about those dark creatures. Anna and I saw them when his friends came to Arendelle. They were talking like they were enemies, but Artyom was telling the others not to attack."

"Artyom's history with the Dark Ones is tragic and one of the reasons I need you to speak to him. The sorrow is necessary for him to move on before it eats away at him, but I am sure he can tell you in great detail about his experience with their kind."

"You have encountered them before, right? It's not a coincidence that you talk about them without reason. They have to be important to this conversation we're having."

Khan nodded his head. "It is, but his father is more critical of the journey he will take. One that will help you out later on in life."

"He is critical to my life," Elsa was now skeptical of that idea, "I find that a bit too-"

"Presumptuous?" He interrupted.

"Yeah, you can say that. He is already helping me out with my powers and I think it's enough."

He remained silent.

"You disapprove?"

"Artyom has his heart in the right place, but you are nowhere near the level of understanding you need to be for powers such as yours," He replied, "There is more to that than snowmen and castles."

She did not understand at first, but the wording was enough to question him. "You have seen this before, haven't you? What is it that you're not telling me?"

The old man smiled. "Water has memories and it will be the key to help you and Artyom."

Elsa's ears heard strange whispers from behind her back and she could not help, but turn around. When she did, there was nothing there. "Did you hear that as well?"

The crown princess returned her attention to the tea, only to find the chair in front of her to be empty.

It was chilling to find that Khan was not there anymore. The door did not creak open nor did it leave a sound and the chair remained in its position as if no one was there in the first place. Unlike her sister, she did not believe in superstitions, but this moment may have changed her mind.

Princess Anna was glad about the decision her sister made with the Council. The fact that they were helping these people find a better life in their kingdom was a welcoming thought to her. It usually meant that there were more coming to Arendelle to make it a livelier place. Elsa was tired from the hours of discussing the matter with the councilors and delegates throughout this 'interstational' community and now it was up to her to keep her happy.

What was surprising was that Artyom lent her enough cartridges for that to happen. He seemed to want to celebrate himself as he was awarded a medal from the secretary general. Her other friend had the luckier award of being promoted from his status, accompanying her as a formal ambassador to the Kingdom of Arendelle.

Pavel followed her through the station's streets as he grew curious about her destination. "So, where are we going exactly?"

Anna looked over her shoulder. "I'm thinking about buying my sister a few souvenirs from the Metro. I might end up showcasing them at the coronation."

"Isn't that some sort of event when the heir becomes the ruler?"

"Yep," She answered with delight, "It won't just everyone from Arendelle, but we'll also have representatives all across Europe to see it as well. "That is why I'm looking around these streets. They might have something here worth showing to the rest of the world about the Metro's existence."

He chuckled at her words. "It's a pity I'm not back at the Red Line. If you told me about this, my connections would have helped out with this little issue. Even after the apocalypse, we're still able to collect invaluable pre-war pieces."

The princess was impressed at that statement. "How about you make a call back to your connections when I'm done shopping? Kai and Gerda are going to need our help once I get back home."

"Our?" Pavel seemed surprised she included him as the helper.

Anna recalled that he had never been to her world. "Don't you want to see what my home's like?

"I don't know. Most of my job in the Red Line was intelligence work, but this is totally out of my field."

It reminded her of Elsa for a moment. "That is why you have me."

She remembered where the art seller was and as they turned the corner, he was at his stall once again. The old merchant had seen better days, but Anna was glad he was alive and well. He immediately recognized her and smiled. "Hey, young lady. You're back here again. I see that you've managed to get past those bastards."

"How are you? Did they hurt you real bad?"

"Hurt me?" The merchant scoffed at the question, "My wife could hit harder than them."

It was time to change the subject. "So how is business? Are you doing well after the last time?"

He nodded his head as he stepped on the stone slab. "Of course, some of my collections are worth more than a few cartridges if you ask me."

She took notice of the paintings, but the showings were different. These paintings seemed to involve simple depictions of the countryside; however, they also had war involved as well. Regiments of cavalry charged into each other while strange mechanical titans towered over them. "This is new?"

"Oh, let me check in the back if I have something you want."

"No need to do that," There was new genuine interest in this now, "I have never seen art like this before."

Pavel commented on the piece. "I've seen a lot, but I have heard of a painter who likes to make this kind of theme."

The merchant looked at him. "The artist was a Polish guy before the war. It was such a phenomenon back in those days. He knew how to combine the quiet farm life with mechanized industrial warfare in the background. It's a pity we will never see more of it."

Anna admired the human aspect of the painting as well. One of the cavalrymen approached a group of farmers as if he was trying to warn them about the danger. "I would like to buy this one."

The Russian behind her became concerned. "This one? Are you sure?"

She nodded her head in approval. "I think this would look nice on my painting wall. It would be enough to get people talking."

"If you say so."

The old man stood up. "Alright, let me find a case and get the transaction started."

The news about the situation with the Red Line had surprised everyone at Polis. An attempt on the secretary general's life being rescued by a lone stranger from Exhibition was enough to stir excitement from the civilians. Yet, Artyom was glad that it was over. He did everything he could to minimize his renown from the event. All he wanted at this point was some form of peace and he could find some quiet time in the Polis Library.

Books were the only window out of the depressing environment he lived in. He remembered his younger days when he saved up his cartridges and spent them all on books when merchants from outside the station had arrived. His fingers would flip through the oily pages to read through fantastical stories, even without the context to understand them. Sukhoi would approve, knowing full well that he might read about political and social affairs at some point. Yet, Artyom knew that it was an attempt to prepare him to become a station commander later on.

The truth was, he was never that social when compared to Sukhoi. He recalled a time when his stepfather met with the other station bureaucrats and saw through a hole in the wall about how his son was unfit to lead if he couldn't overcome his fear of rats. Others shared that sentiment as well and Artyom could not blame them at all. He was a scared boy who did not know any serious dangers outside of the usual tunnel trash.

Doors to the library were opened as he looked around in his chair to see two armed Polis Rangers carry a box full of books. "Brahmin, we managed to collect some good ones from the library."

The young man admired the role they had in the Metro. Not all Polis Rangers are designated to fight mutants at all. Sometimes, they needed to reclaim lost glories of the motherland book by book. Those were known as the Kshatrya, stalkers and soldiers who would salvage artifacts of significant importance so they can bring them back into human hands so children of the Metro could feel the ancient history they had with pre-war life.

Experience on the surface changed his attitude on them now. Men of the Kshatrya would be sent to the Moscow State Library to seek these treasures out and where there is treasure there is a monster guarding it - librarians. The irony of the name was not lost on him, but it was a well-deserved one given his own history with the mutants themselves. To encounter one is to face down literal terror with the hope that maybe you won't lose an arm in the process. Artyom was incredibly glad he went there only once and perhaps would never return there again.

Someone's shoes began to click behind his back as a lithe figure took a seat beside him and then he realized it was Elsa. "Hey, how are you doing? I thought you were at a meeting with the Council."

The crown princess had a book underneath her arm. "It was over a few hours ago. I just took the time to recuperate after a long session."

"I know how you feel. They certainly have a habit of letting protocol and bureaucracy get ahead of themselves." Recalling the last serious session he had with them.

Elsa leaned back in her armchair. "How have you been?"

He put his book down in his lap as he admitted to the time he spent here. "My entire afternoon was spent here. You kinda forget that there is a life outside of these walls due to how quiet this place is."

"Artyom, I…" She seemed to struggle with her sentence, "I…"

"Is there something wrong?" He asked as he leaned forward with concern, "You normally don't act like this."

"Khan came to me and wanted me to talk to you."

Now that was a surprise he did not see coming, but the mention of his name made Artyom take the matter seriously. "When did you meet him?"

"Just today," She began, "He said that I needed to talk to you about something and you deserve to know."

"It must be serious if it involves you. What do you want to tell me?"

Elsa looked around in a rather fearful way. "Is there a place we can talk in private?"

He took the time to think about it, but during his time in Polis the only place he could find comfort in was a small restaurant few ever went to. However, it was incredibly isolated and allowed him to think to himself while he ate well-cooked meals of rats. "Are you hungry?"

The princess was perplexed by the question. "Where are you going with this? Please take this seriously."

"The station has a restaurant we can go to. It's completely isolated and the cook knows better than to sniff into other people's affairs," He told her, "I'm just asking since we're going there."

She nodded her head. "Yes, I'm hungry."

It was a quiet evening when Artyom and Elsa took their seats at the only table in the restaurant. He glanced over his shoulder to see the cook starting his oven before he walked over to them. "Hello there, welcome to Igor's Kitchen. What will you be having today?"

Artyom stole a glance from his friend before he looked up to him. "We would like to have the shrimp."

"You sir, are lucky that this is going to be the last one I have."

Good. The last thing he wanted to do was let her eat rats. This particular mutant was edible. "I suppose we should be glad about that."

The cook clapped his hands. "What will you drink in the meantime?"

"It should be simple since there is not a lot of choice in the Metro." He answered.

He wagged his finger. "Ah, but you're at my kitchen. If you pay a hefty sum, there is this bottle from the pre-war days. Few have ever tasted it and fewer will actually recognize it."

"How much?" He wondered.

"A hundred for a cup, but two hundred for the bottle itself."

The young man reached into his pockets and paid the cook the cartridges. "Here you go."

He bowed down repeatedly. "Wonderful, I'll come out with your meals shortly."

When the man was gone, Elsa spoke up. "Can we talk now?"

Artyom shifted his head towards her. "Yeah, what is that you want to talk about?"

She paused for a moment before she spoke. "Before you regained your full identity, my powers showed me a piece of your past. Something you were unaware of for your life."

"Like what?"

"There was a man who you know as Hunter. He was trying to protect you and that is how your stepfather took you in."

He was perplexed by what the princess was trying to say. "Hunter is your father, you're real father."

It was like he was hit with a gunshot. He did not know how to react to what she said nor how she got her hand on that information, but what mattered was that she said something so life-changing that his goosebumps stirred to life. Artyom turned away and looked at the ground before his hand found itself on his mouth. His memories from the past coming back, not to embrace him, but to haunt him. "All my life, I thought Hunter was a family friend. He taught me how to shoot a gun, proper sentry work, and tried to help me understand my place as Sukhoi's son."

Elsa leaned forward and touched his arm. "This is a lot to take in. If you start to cry, I'll try to help get you through this. You deserve that."

"I would if I had any to show," He said, "Many tears were spent on my neighbors and my comrades that I have none for my own father."

The last time he met with Hunter was that moment in Ostankino tower. He reached for his holster and inspected the revolver that was given to him, a weapon he was only given at that moment. "You did all of that to save me. You did not have to die at all."

Anger brewed in his mind as he covered his face out of frustration, mostly from his connection with the Dark Ones. "No one needed to die if I talked to them. He would be here if I-"

"Don't finish that sentence." The tone was firm and Artyom was surprised that it came from her, "The death of my parents made me say the same thing to me. One that did more harm to Anna and me. Please don't fall into that same pit of despair. You've done more than enough good not to suffer that."

Artyom shook his head. His situation with the Dark Ones could have saved them instead of damned them. "You don't understand."

"I do!"

They both became silent when the cook stepped out of his kitchen with two bowls filled with meat and sauce. "Your meal has arrived. If it starts moving, tell me. I'll give it another minute of the flames."

"Thank you," Elsa kindly said as he smiled in her direction as if the conversation never happened in the first place, "My first time being here but I think this will be enjoyable."

"Your welcome, m'lady," He quickly went back and walked over with a bottle and two cups of the drinks they were supposed to have, "Enjoy you lovebirds."

After the cook disappeared, she realigned the conversation back to where it needed to be. "Artyom, you did not know your actions would get your own father killed. I did not think my parents were even capable of dying until they did. Things just happen."

He shook his head. "I wish I could share your sentiment, but the Metro is far too harsh to simply say that things happen." His eyes looked down at the cup and immediately took a sip. "I suppose it was a good thing I asked for the bottle."

The atmosphere changed when they heard music being played from the kitchen. Elsa turned in her seat to look back. "What is he doing?"

"He probably thinks we're a couple looking for a place to eat," He answered, "Probably unaware that we're just talking about serious stuff."

Elsa returned her head to the food and began to eat. "So this shrimp is actually shrimp? It looks a bit big if you ask me."

Artyom grabbed his fork and stuck into the meat, "Yeah, the mutated kind. It's perhaps the only mutant I have ever come across that is tasty enough to warrant a meal."

"I know this is not the place to ask you since I told you about your father, but there is a request since it's a special occasion." She began.

"What would that be?" He wondered.

"My coronation is this year and I was wondering if you could be there. It's a special-"

"Yes."

Her eyes looked up at him. "You would come?"

The young man still had the opportunity to smile after her revelation of his past. "You're my friend. Perhaps, one of the few I can talk to without a worry in the world. I'll be sure to come there. Just make sure there is an invitation for me."

Elsa smiled. "Thank you. You have done more than enough to help me be with my sister. The invitation is earned."

He felt honored. The earlier discussion still lingered in his mind, but the Metro was a place where the only time you could linger in the past if you were dead or old. Artyom's thoughts on his father were still there, but he did not want to ruin the good moment.