It was quite the defeat.

Saul expected to salvage something out of that whole mess. He had hoped the princesses would be back in his care and the Baron would be pleased about the whole affair. Now he would be on his bad side by taking a gang with him on a wild goose chase for two girls. Even though he found Giul's hideout at the time, the situation on the frontlines was changing.

When he entered the Baron's throne room, he expected a horrific scowl on his face. Yet, he was content on his seat of power as he patiently waited with his head resting on the palm of his hand. Then he raised his head the moment his beady gaze noted his presence. "I have been expecting you."

Most bandits in his court would lower their heads out of shame, but Saul was one of the few people the Baron trusted and he would face his consequences where others would hide or make excuses for their failures. "You have probably heard that I attacked the airfield without your knowledge. What's the punishment?"

"There is no punishment," He answered before rising out of his seat with his cane at his side, "My boys on the air had intercepted a call from these soldiers and it seems like you caused more trouble for them than me."

"How?" He was confused by what he meant. Did he do something that actually helped the Baron? "I was stopped short before the perimeter and lost a good chunk of our guys in the fighting."

The Baron smiled. "Yes, you did get a lot of men killed, but a stray rocket had destroyed their generator. To the untrained eye, all you did was kill the power, but that is not all. The generator was also attached to their teleporter and you just cut them off from where they came from."

Saul's eyes widened at the results. "So the bastards are trapped here? It wasn't just for nothing."

"Pretty much, but that is not all. They are the only source of supplies is from their teleporter. It's only a matter of time before they run out of ammunition and die of dehydration. Which means we are in a position of power."

"What happens now?" Ever since they arrived in the Caspian, the situation grew worse and it was time their luck changed. "Do we go on the offensive?"

"No, not yet. We suffered plenty of casualties and I'm thinking about calling some favors from friends out of town," He shook his head and gestured his hand to hold off on the idea, "We'll do that after we stall them with some negotiations."

All the bloodshed he faced against the soldiers demanded a reason from his boss. "You want to talk to them? After all the shit that happened?!"

The Baron turned his back on him and made his way towards his throne. "Remember, we are in a position of power and they are running out of time at the airfield. There is so much they can do before we dump them on our bayonets."

When he returned to his seat, a scantily clad servant slave walked up to him with a bottle of beer on a silver plate. The Baron snatched the bottle before returning his focus on the conversation.

"They are trapped, but if we give them an opening they might end up becoming our friends," He answered, "We offer them a place in our fine Caspian community or they end up as food for the gargoyles. If not, everyone can get their payback when they stole the airfield from us."

It was surprising to hear a sound plan from the Baron; however, Saul wondered if it failed to take into account enemy action. "What if they somehow punch way above their weight despite being cut off?"

His boss paused and was put into thought about the matter as his eyes considered that reality. Then he raised his head and relaxed in his chair. "Then make sure they don't."

The only time the Queen of Arendelle had felt this anxious was when it was coronation day. Artyom and Pavel were not able to get through, trapped in their world, unable to return with her. Colonel Mel'nikov had talked to her that he was doing everything in his power to get them back, but her stomach churned at the anticipation and the truth. There was a chance that Artyom would have lived and would shrug it off, but a hint of despair caught on that maybe he was gone and helpless. Elsa had the power of snow and winter; however, she wished to tear open the fabric of reality to save her friend once and for all.

Her bedroom door creaked open with Anna's face slipping through. "Are you okay?"

Elsa didn't know what to say as she sat quietly on her bed with her parent's journal sitting on her lap. She flipped through a page, her thoughts recalling that night when he wanted to say something to her. "No, I'm not."

"You're honest about it," The princess widened the door and took the moment to sit right next to her, "Maybe Artyom and Pavel are hold up temporarily?"

"Do you really believe that?" She asked of her sister. Life was often filled with disappointments, "I think they're gone for good and I just need to recognize that."

The queen found her sister holding her hand. "Don't say that. Hope shouldn't be given up like that. You and I know this more than anyone else."

Elsa shook her head at Anna's words. There was only one other person she considered in her life that knew much between despair and hope. "You're forgetting about Artyom. He's the reason I'm talking to you, he's the reason I am no longer afraid of my powers, he's the reason why you're back in Arendelle."

"Is there something about Artyom that seems so special to you?"

"Perhaps," A hint of the conversation they had that night. She considered what he intended to say, but it was too embarrassing to admit it, even if Anna was her sister, "It's just that he means a lot to me."

She leaned on her shoulder. "You like him."

The queen was perplexed by that assumption as she defensively tried to repress that notion. "No, it can't be that. We're just friends."

"Remember the stories we once read when we were children?" The princess asked, "There was always something about two friends getting too close to each other, but in the end they got together and had a happy ending."

"Life is not a fairy tale, Anna! It tends to break your heart most of the time, just like I almost killed you and caused us to live seperate lives."

Anna slipped off the bed and made her way towards her sister's drawers. Then she pulled out their mother's scarf an wrapped it around her. "It's okay to be upset. We all need those moments, but maybe you should put a little faith in Artyom. After all, he seems to make it through to us in the end."

A pair of footsteps approached the bedroom door and opened wide as Prince Hans slowly entered the room. "Your majesty, I bring ill news from the colonel."

Elsa closed the book in her lap and stood up. "What happened?"

"His men told me that they couldn't open the machine to where Artyom and everyone else is, but they could in other places of their world," The young man explained, "The Russians said that they can't rescue them."

Anna quickly turned towards him. "Are you absolutely sure he said that? Maybe he might be wrong?"

"He was absolutely firm that they couldn't fix it. They can't help them."

The queen took a moment to take the information in before she fell on the floor. "I need some privacy could both of you leave for tonight?"

The prince gave a slight bow before walked back towards the entrance. "You're highness, do as she asks."

"Elsa?" The princess wondered, "Please don't fall into despair."

It was a request from her sister and she could ignore it entirely, yet, it was unfitting for a queen to do so. "I'll try."

They walked out of the room and closed the door behind them. The aura of loneliness burdened her shoulders. The news was too much for her as she sat on her bed and covered her face at what was to come. Teardrops slipped through her fingertips and wet her bed, sometimes, her hands would occasionally transform them into snowflakes. Queen Elsa of Arendelle would spend the rest of the night, quietly crying to herself.

Two men stood together, smoking cigarettes as they watched the engineers and technicians busy themselves around the generator within the airfield. The moment it had shut down was disheartening to the men who were cut off from Arendelle and the connection to their homes. Artyom could not blame them as he feared for their fate and hoped they could still maintain cohesion afterwards. Yet, it was a thought that went into the back of his mind as he continued to remember that moment when Prince Hans smiled as the portal closed on them. There was something wrong with that damn smile and now he had more questions on his plate than he wanted.

Pavel let out a breathe of smoke before tapping him on the shoulder. "Comrade, are you alright? From the way you look, you seemed focused on something. Want to say what is on your mind?"

He turned his head and smiled. "Someone is suspect, but I need more than just a hunch. Never would I imagine myself being this helpless to investigate that problem. Thing is, we need to get back to Arendelle"

"Whatever you got in your head needs to deal with what is going on presently. As of right now, everyone one us from Moscow to Novosibirsk is in the shit. Deal with this one before we go to that one."

The Red Line officer walked up to the educated men who fiddled with the parts and wires. It seemed like his patience was wearing thin.

"What's wrong with the damn thing?!"

An old man pulled out a bunch of burnt wires and metal then presented the details to him. "The explosion and the shrapnel busted the generator. We can't fix it."

"Chyort!" Pavel swore before returning his eyes towards Artyom, "We are fucked. Some of the logistics guys talked to me that we have enough food for awhile, but we cannot stay here and fight. There is only a hundred of us and we'll have to be hasty with our expenditure."

If staying and fighting was out of the question, the young man considered his options. Well, it was a single idea that didn't seem good on paper, but what other choice did they have. "We have to leave, don't we?"

"Organizing a hundred guys to head somewhere is going to be tough. The problem is we don't have anywhere to go and it's not like we have a reliable way to get there."

An idea clicked into his head as he remembered his real reason on why he was out exploring in this world while being away from the royals. "Vladivostok, it's a good place to go to. Polis and OSKOM have an expeditionary force there on a train. If we head there, we'll be back in good hands."

Pavel was surprised by the information, but then he reminded him of the detail he mentioned earlier. "Well, how do you plan on going there? We cannot just stumble from one area to the next. What if we find another group of bandits like these ones or a large radiation hot-spot?"

"We could ask Giul about it," Artyom answered, "Not much, but better than nothing."

"You might be onto something, but I hope we don't waste our lives on a bad idea."

Someone from a watchtower had shouted to the top of his lungs. "Contact! Enemy vehicle to the northwest!"

The duo quickly dropped their cigarettes as they ran towards the perimeter of the base with other soldiers following after them. Walls of tires and sheets of metal were their only form of protection against the enemy; however, they waited as noticed a lone car on top of the hill with a stick in hand. Artyom scoped in on the enemy, only to see him step out of the vehicle and carry a white flag blowing in the wind. "It's not an attack."

Pavel took a good look at the figure in the distance before he loaded his weapon. "I don't trust that bastard. We should take some shots at him."

"Let's see what he has to say before that."

He looked at him with surprise. "They're just bandits, we can't negotiate with them."

Artyom knew what he meant by that and his history with their lot was old as the time he left his station. "True, but let's give them that idea that we will."

"That is a dangerous game you're playing."

"I know," He added before lowering his weapon and walking towards the weaponless enemy, "Tell everyone to stand down. We'll talk about finding Giul afterward."

His boots left their prints in the sand as he continued to see the sunrise in the distance. Exhaustion and the heat would kill him if he continued to stay in this place any further. When he arrived in front of the van, the man holding the wrapped stick smiled as he planted it on the ground. There were others within the vehicle; however, they remained where they are while their hands rested upon their weapons.

"What is this about?"

The bald bandit laughed as he placed his hands around his waist. "We're here to negotiate. My boss and my boys are giving you a bit of leeway after all this fighting. You see, he'd be pissed since you killed our boys, but then we destroyed your generator. The Baron is in a good mood today and is offering all of you to join his ranks. The fighting isn't going to end well and you'd be doing yourself a huge favor if you accepted. Water, babes, and all the loot if you help us."

"That's it?" Artyom asked. His time in Arendelle and the world outside the Moscow Metro had given him a huge perspective that there was more to life than the simple petty gifts, "Your Baron is small-time compared to what I've seen."

His eyes glared at him, offended by his response. "Look pal, the Baron is being very nice to you right now. If you don't accept his offer of surrender, we'll kill you all and that is if the desert or the dehydration doesn't get you first."

It was a genuine threat, but life in Moscow changed him, especially the Dark Ones. The young man had seen all sorts of horrors affecting the stations in Moscow and the threats of bandits were usually on the lower end of priority over the mutants. Yet, the real reason for the intimidation to fail was the fact that he was used to having the odds against him. "Then I have to reject his proposal."

"Well," The bandit's expression had changed as if the answer was one he wasn't looking for, "You have a lot of balls to take the fight to us. It's a pity that you'll only get buried in this desert of ours."

"Perhaps you're right," Artyom answered, "What separates us from you is that we're not raiders."

"A man with principle. Been awhile since we dealt with your lot," He turned away and walked back into the van, "The apocalypse has no room for your kind. You should have stayed dead."

When the negotiator and his bodyguards had left the outskirts of the airfield's perimeter, the young man didn't realize he was tensed up. As his body relaxed after their departure, he let out a whisper just for himself. "We already were."

The Polis Ranger walked back towards the friendly troops made up of OSKOM, the factions of the Metro, and the soldiers of the Spartan Order. Those that remained had turned their full attention on him. It was as if they were expecting an answer from him. Then Pavel walked forward with his hands on his side. "What did they say?"

"We join or we die."

A Red Line behind Pavel demanded an answer. "Shit, why didn't you agree. We're stuck out here and there is so much for all of us. We can't handle this heat."

An OSKOM soldier, clad in armor, had raised his armored visor over his head. "Are you insane, they're bandits?! If we join their outfit, we'll be going out of our way to help them raid innocents."

"Better than starving and dying of thirst."

The coalition of troops had found themselves arguing over what they should do now that they were stuck here. Some were against joining others were willing to admonish their lives to their enemy's cause. Then there were arguments about why they were here in the first place. Much as he wanted to participate in the discussion, Artyom knew that indecision would kill them over everything else. "Comrades! Comrades! Comrades!"

His voice didn't seem to earn their attention, but Pavel turned his head and noticed his attempts of silencing the discussion. The communist officer spat on the ground before his fingers, two from each hand, had reached his mouth. A moment later he let out a loud whistle and made it long enough to surpass the debates amongst the group. Heads turned towards the duo as Pavel waited for the silence to fall over them. "Chuvaks, my friend has something to say."

"We do not have to join them or stay here and die," He began, "If we leave the Caspian and head east, we'll have a chance at stumbling over a train expedition over in Vladivostok."

A large armored man had stepped forward, with his multi-barrelled Gatling gun in hand. His arm was wrapped by the infamous symbol of the Fourth Reich. "Why should we listen to you?"

Pavel chuckled. "I don't know if any of you have considered an alternative. Surely, it's better than the pickle we're in."

He stared at him with a hateful glare. "Did I ask you, communist pig?"

Artyom noticed the tense moment where it seemed like they could brandish their weapons for an ideological fight. Then he walked up between the two before that could happen. "Pavel is right. It's an alternative that helps everyone here. Yes, we don't have enough food to survive in this place, but we'll have enough to get out of here if we work together."

"Who died and made you king?" The Nazi heavy trooper said as he approached him, his height overshadowing him, "I am not following a boy whose only combat experience is that Arendellian girl. Only the strong have any right to lead this expedition. In fact, I should show that right now."

"Do not talk about the rights of the strong," Part of him snapped, his eyes staring into his soul, guided by that one moment when he was with Khan, "You are far too weak for that."

The skeptical giant before him had clenched his hand into a fist, but the eyes behind his armored mask eased from rage into fear. His fist was shaking for a mere moment before he took a step back turned his back on him. "Fine, we'll see how much your plan is worth any of our lives."

Artyom looked to the others and sought out their help. "Take inventory of our supplies and get a signaller to reach out to a local by the name of Giul."

They returned to their duties and accepted his orders, but they would look over their shoulders, in awe about how he pacified the man with words instead of force. Yet, when he saw Pavel, the communist reluctantly spoke out his mind. "There are few times I have ever felt genuine fear, but that spectacle was something else entirely."

"What's wrong, comrade?" He wondered, "I was just telling him not to get into a fight."

"I don't know," Pavel replied as he walked back into the airfield's perimeter, "Whatever happened there felt like you had an aura of death around. Remind me not to get on your bad side."

The news broke Anna's mood and she had no desire to raid the kitchen for chocolates. As she passed through the hallways, the servants expressed their sadness and did their best to maintain their composure, but it was difficult to remove the fact that he was once among their ranks.

Those thoughts were put aside when Kai turned around the corner and began approaching her. "Princess Anna, Kristoff the Ice Harvester needs a word with you outside the castle."

She was confused as to why he needed to talk to her. "Did he say why?"

"He said it was something important about the kidnappers, the ones who captured you."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded his head. "It seemed urgent and I think it is worth looking into. The Russians might do something about it if it's that important. He's waiting on the other side of the bridge."

What did he have to say about that? Whatever it was, Anna was interested and made her way towards the place. "Thanks for the notice, I'll see what he has to say."

The well-dressed young woman grabbed her dress and began running through the castle with haste. Servants moved out of the way as she navigated through her home. Guards stood at attention, saluting her as she ran past them.

When she finally arrived at the castle's courtyard, Olaf stepped out of the stables with hay on his head. The snowman turned his head and stopped her. "What's the rush? You seem to be going somewhere."

The princess slowed down for him. "I'm meeting someone outside the castle. It's quite important and I need to speak with him."

"Want me to come along?" He asked, "A warm hug and smile makes a conversation easier."

"It's not that kind of talk."

"Are you sure?"

Anna nodded her head, certifying her decision. Yet, there was one crucial detail that needed to be handled now that the queen was all alone. "The one who needs it more is Elsa. She's not feeling good right now."

"Maybe some warm soup could help?" Olaf suggested, "Would she appreciate that?"

She looked up at the castle windows to find her sister's bedroom above. "Yes, I think she would."

"Okay, I'll see what the cooks will say about that."

The two went their separate ways as the gates creaked open with the guards acknowledging her presence. Outside the princess's ancestral home, the village she grew up with was much different than before. A walking ice creature patrolled the surrounding streets, often entertaining children when it could. At the same time, Russian soldiers patrolled the streets or intermingled with the villagers. In a different time and a different place, this would have enthralled her, but not today.

The person she was supposed to meet was not present as she looked around for Kristoff. Odd that he would call for someone to talk to, only to disappear at the end.

A villager approached her in an apron covered in soot. "Princess Anna, you have probably never heard of me, but I'm Martin the blacksmith. There are rumors going around that the expedition is cut off. Is Artyom among them?"

She realized who she was talking to. He was Anders' father. It took her a moment to regain her composure, but losing someone that close to the family was hard to say. "Unfortunately, yes. His commander said that he's already a dead man."

"Did he say he was dead?"

"I don't know, but we can't help them."

He was surprised by her words as he combed his beard with his fingers. "It pains me to know that he's really gone."

A thought crept into her mind now that she remembered that Artyom also had family back in the Metro. "The worst part is, I have to tell his stepfather the news."