A soft click echoed in the room as the lock for the entrance twisted open. In an instant, Artem's rifle was trained on the door, his finger hovering over the trigger. The door opened to reveal a slightly dirty Forester on the other side. The old man glanced at the rifle before giving an approving nod and entering. He quickly closed and locked the door behind him before leaning his shotgun back against a windowsill. As soon as Artem had placed his rifle back down, he had to snap his hands into the air. He barely caught a small metal box before it hit him in the face.

The younger Stalker glanced at the old man with a raised eyebrow before gently lifting the lid. He squinted his eyes in response to the bright blue light that radiated from the container. Inside was an orb the size of a baseball. It had a hard, see-through exterior that surrounded an orb that glowed like a tiny blue star. Artem whistled.

"A flash. What's the occasion?" Artem asked as he sealed and pocketed the container. Forester grunted as he sat down on a crate and lit a cigar for himself.

"Payment." The Old Man replied. Artem raised an eyebrow once more.

"I don't think a little chimera heart for a flash is a fair exchange. I think he was the runt of the…litter? Do those bastards have litters?" Artem muttered to himself as he checked his watch and cracked open an energy drink. 5:17

"Don't make me imagine it. And no, the goulash with its delightful peppers," Artem scowled at the mention of the cursed vegetable, "Was more than payment enough. It's motivation for you to safekeep the girl."

Artem nearly choked on his drink, coughing and banging his fist against his chest a few times while Forester laughed at his misery. The girl had long since woken up and was now cautiously watching the two men.

"Blyaaad, I didn't know zone babysitters made such a killing. This your long-lost granddaughter Gramps?" Artem asked before barely dodging a bucket to the head.

"Get the hell out"

While Artem fastened his gear back on, Forester dug through several of his crates until he found a mask and filter that could fit the girl. She bit back a hiss of pain after Forester insisted, she be given a dosage of anti-radiation medication.

"You get used to the burn," Artem stated as he slipped the injector back into its appropriate space. Forester gently placed one of his old, thick hunting jackets on the girl's shoulders. The bottom of the jacket almost reached her ankles. He also gave her a pair of thick socks but lamented that he didn't have any shoes that would fit her. Artem assured the Old Man he'd be able to have something made. Bidding goodbye, the two departed.

As the door clicked shut, Forester let out a sigh and slumped into his seat.

"The Zone is changing once more. I can feel it in my old bones. Ah well, a problem for the youth."

An odd sight hiked through the Red Forest. A Stalker in military equipment covered in pouches walked about, tossing small rocks, while a small figure sat atop his shoulders. Mouse balanced herself by holding onto Artem's head. If he cared, he didn't seem to show it. Whenever she picked at the near-suffocating gas mask that covered her head, she received a quick, but gentle, smack to the hand. Artem hummed to himself.

"Hmmmm, what to teach? Where to start? A million things can kill you here, yet here I am struggling to think up one." Artem murmured to himself while the girl sat atop his shoulders, looking from side to side, trying to spot unseen danger. She froze when Artem suddenly came to a stop.

"Ah! I'll just rip off of Fanatic's old lessons! Surely, he won't mind…Probably," Artem glanced up at the girl. "You won't tell him, will you?" She vigorously shook her head. The Stalker laughed in response. Suddenly, he lifted his arm and pointed at a small cluster of leaves, floating in the breeze.

"Tell me, what do you see?" Artem inquired, a serious tone in his voice. The girl glanced between the leaves and him before shrugging. The Stalker let out a loud sigh.

"You'll have to speak one of these days Mouse. Listen, lick your finger and hold it up." Artem ordered. The girl partially lifted her gas mask and complied.

"Cold?" A nod. "But a uniform cold, same on all sides?" another nod. Artem gestured towards the leaves.

"No wind blows, yet the leaves move. How can that be?" He picked up a small stone and chucked it into the leaves. The stone sailed through the air until it neared the leaves. Suddenly, it slammed down into the ground, accompanied by a small shockwave. Two more pulses of compressed air echoed with a THOOM in the quiet air before it became still once more.

"A springboard anomaly. Anomalous gravity, capable of bruising you or smashing you into paste. A simple rule in the zone Mouse, if something feels off or wrong, it is." Artem patted his belly. "Trust your gut more than your head, but the two must work together for you to survive."

The Stalker picked up a few more stones, tossing them infront of him as he gave a wide berth to the anomaly. Once they had passed it, the Stalker paused to collect a few more stones.

"Rocks, bolts, casings are a stalker's best friend Mouse. Don't trust a hallway? Huck a bolt. Most anomalies will react. At least, most we know of. New surprises every day." Artem finished his statement with an annoyed mutter. He reached into a pouch and withdrew a device the size of a walk-talkie. It had a circular display covered by a metal cage. Beneath the display, a knob and a small LED display with two sets of rapidly changing numbers.

Artem held the device up to Mouse. She gently grabbed it and studied it for a few moments before looking back down at Artem.

"That is a detector. A B.E.A.R detector to be specific. Open the cage and twist the knob to the right." Artem ordered. The girl complied and nearly dropped the detector when it began beeping. The display had a circle split into 15-degree arcs. 5 arcs flashed in time with the beeping, pointing to the left side of the circle.

"Ahhh looks like it's caught the scent of one already. Which way Mouse?" Artem asked. Mouse pointed to the left. As the Stalker turned, the arcs adjusted their position until they pointed at the top of the circle. Artem began slowly creeping forward, occasionally tossing a rock. With each step, the beeping grew slightly faster and louder. More arcs came to life until the entire circle was glowing with green light and the beeps had turned into one steady tone.

Mouse looked up from the detector to see a cluster of leaves floating inches in front of her. She nearly fell off Artem's back as she jumped in fright but was caught by the Stalker. He spoke, all humor gone from his voice.

"Twist the knob to the left as far as it will go," Artem ordered. As Mouse did so, a crackling noise echoed in her ears. She looked down to see electricity crackling around a pocket of air at the foot of the anomaly.

"Slowly ease it back to the right," Artem commanded. The crackling grew louder as a small orb of light glowed from the pocket of still air. When the girl had twisted the knob halfway back, a loud hiss emanated from the orb.

Hovering in the air was a strange object. It was roughly shaped like a partially bloomed flower, save that the "petals" were made of a yellow sandstone-like substance. The gaps between the petals glowed with a soothing blue light. Artem took a deep breath before his hand lashed out. As he grabbed the object, his legs pushed off the ground, throwing the two backwards. The anomaly activated, sending out pulses of compressed air as if angered at the loss of its treasure.

Mouse let out a loud gasp as the wind was knocked out of her during her landing. She lay there for a few moments, gulping down breaths of cold, filtered air as until her breathing stabilized. Muffled laughter caused her to sit up and glare at her guardian. Artem was sitting cross-legged, tossing the object up and catching it repeatedly.

"Not bad little Mouse. Time for another little lesson." Artem spoke as he placed the object in a small metal box before sealing it shut. He drew out two canteens and two granola bars, one for each of them. Mouse wolfed down her bar while Artem spoke.

"You are now a Stalker, like me. Not a creep who follows women at night, but a S.T.A.L.K.E.R. It means you are one of the following: Scavenger, Trespasser, Adventurer, Loner, Killer, Explorer, or Robber." Artem let out a sigh when he realized Mouse seemed to be more interested in his granola bar than what he was saying. He tossed it over to her while taking a sip from his canteen.

"What you helped me find is a Stalker's favorite thing besides a good bottle of vodka or hot meal: an Artifact. The Zone and its anomalies spit these little hunks of material that break the laws of the universe, stalkers collect and sell them. What we found is a stone flower. Common, but still somewhat valuable. The spiky ball you saw earlier was a Kolobok." Artem explained before pausing to take another sip of water. The girl stared at the metal box sitting next to the older Stalker. Artem assumed it was curiosity.

"You're wondering why I put it in the box?" Artem asked. Mouse idly nodded. "Radiation. Most artifacts spit out enough radiation to kill you in a day if you don't have the right gear. However, if they were just radioactive chunks of rock, they wouldn't really sell. Stone flowers can protect your mind against psychic forces and keep you somewhat sane. My kolobok can heal nasty wounds and bullet holes pretty quickly. The scientists give out booklets that have all the known artifacts listed. I'll get one for you if we see them." Artem got into a squat and patted the back of his neck. Mouse clambered on top of his shoulders, and they resumed their journey.

Mouse's eyes drifted back and forth between the detector and the gloomy woods surrounding the two stalkers. Artem's attempts at humming some song grated on her ears, but she didn't complain. Angering her guardian would only end badly. At least he was honest, only protecting her for personal gain. Once they reached wherever they were going, she would be free. She glanced towards the path behind them.

Assuming they didn't come after her.

"Alyoooo. Zone to Mouse?" Artem's voice interrupted her thoughts. She looked back down at the older stalker and nodded.

"Good, still awake. We should be reaching the end of the forest soon. The question is, do we take limansk or…" Artem spoke in a jovial manner before coming to a stop, dead silent. He immediately dropped to a crouch, rifle rising as his body lowered. Mouse let out a small squeak of surprise at the sudden drop before she focused on what was ahead.

The path before them led to another rusty gate set in a tall stone wall. Beyond the gate, she could make out the worn-down remnants of an asphalt road. At first, she couldn't hear anything out of the ordinary. However, as her ears adjusted to the silence, she caught the sounds of distant chatter. Stepping off the path, Artem gently lifted Mouse off his shoulders and set her down behind a log. He held a single finger to his mask before creeping toward the gate, rifle at the ready.

Once he reached the wall, Artem paused and listened. The chatter had grown closer, with three distinct voices talking. Fishing around in one of his pockets, the stalker withdrew a small circular mirror attached to a rod. He extended the telescopic rod a few inches before using it to peer around the entrance.

A road ran parallel to the wall and on it strolled three stalkers. One wore a long trench coat with an old PPS-43 in his hands. The cheap stamped submachine gun had seen better days. The two men following behind him wore black leather jackets over white hoodies. One carried a Makarov handgun while the other had a rusty double-barrel shotgun.

Artem cursed under his breath. Bandits. He pocketed the mirror and took a deep breath. Even a handgun could be deadly at close range, so he'd have to keep them at a distance. Slowly pushing the selector switch to automatic with a muted click, Coyote exhaled and stepped out. The supersonic 5.45 rounds flew out of the rifle with loud CRACKS. The lead bandit flinched and fell over as half a dozen bullets ripped through his chest.

"AMBUSH!" One of the two survivors shouted as they dived into opposite ditches. Artem focused on the man wielding the shotgun, firing short bursts to keep his head down. A cry of pain meant one of the rounds must have connected. The pistol bandit jumped back to his feet and returned fire, yanking on the trigger as adrenaline rushed through his bloodstream. Artem grunted as a stray round was caught by his vest before aiming at the one responsible. A burst of rounds punched through the bandit's gut, leaving him on the ground in agony.

Returning his attention to the now still shotgunner, Artem trained his rifle on the bandit's head. Better to waste a bullet than get a nasty surprise. However, he squeezed the trigger only for a subtle click to come from the gun. Dipping back into cover, Artem changed magazines before glancing down at his chest. Some fabric had been torn but no red stained it. His head snapped up at the crunching of leaves.

The shotgunner rounded the corner, morphine syringe jutting out of his bleeding thigh and shotgun raised. Artem's left hand snapped forward and grabbed ahold of the enemy's weapon. Half a second later, both barrels of the shotgun spat fire next to the Stalker's ear. Artem's vision shook as a terrible ringing filled his head. He shoved the bandit back and raised his own rifle.

Nothing.

"BLYAT!" Artem cursed as he reached toward the charging handle to chamber a round. The Bandit dropped his shotgun and ripped the Kalashnikov from Artem's grasp. Before he could retaliate, the bandit tackled Artem to the ground, hands clasped around the stalker's throat. Artem struck the man across the face twice, but the respirator the bandit wore protected his jaw from the blows.

Lungs burning and vision growing dark, Artem reached into one of the pockets at his side. He yanked out the small pen knife Mouse had 'gifted' him and stabbed it into the bandit's armpit, twisting.

The bandit's grip weakened as he let out a howl of pain. Free to move a little bit more, Artem shoved the man off himself and took in a deep breath of air. Clambering atop the bandit, Artem clasped his hands around his target's head. A pair of thumbs pressed into a pair of eyes. A few seconds later, something gave way with a sickening squelch. The bandit screamed and clutched at his ruined eye while Artem stood up. Drawing a handgun from a holster on his chest, Artem aimed at the Bandit's head.

BANG BANG BANG.

The Stalker briefly surveyed the corpse for any movement. The bandit's face had been reduced to a pulp of bone and brains. Artem took a deep breath, held it, and exhaled. Yanking the small knife from the bandit's corpse, he stared at it for a few moments before wiping the blood off on his pant leg and putting it back in its pouch. Artem retrieved his Kalashnikov, chambered a round, and stepped out into the road.

The trenchcoat bandit had long gone quiet. As Artem passed by the corpse, he fired a round into its skull anyway. A hushed cough and moan of pain emanated from behind a large rock off the side of the road. Artem leaned around the rock to see the last bandit holding his belly, clothes soaked in blood. The man looked Artem in the eyes and spoke.

"Wait…Don't..." The man groaned weakly.

Artem raised his rifle and shot him between the eyes.

After quickly searching his surroundings for any signs of more bandits, Artem began to loot. He unsheathed a hunting knife from its shoulder-mounted sheath and cut off a small, square patch from the bandit's jacket. The patch had a black, cracked skull atop a white shield, the symbol for the bandit faction. He dug around in his pockets, trying to find food unspoiled by blood or viscera. Artem eyed the Makarov next to its dead owner for a few seconds, pondering.

Almost every rookie started out with a Makarov or something similar. Cheap, reliable, easy to use. Sure, the 9x18 round was weak, but it was better than nothing.

He removed the pistol's holster and magazines from the corpse before moving on to the next. He repeated the looting process on the trench coat bandit, taking the PPS-43 and its magazines as well. Either Mouse could use it, or he could sell it.

When he reached the last corpse, Artem held back the urge to give it a kick to what little was left of the head. Stupid mistake on his part, but he shouldn't stay upset over it. The bandit was dead, Artem was alive, and that was good enough for him. Artem didn't bother with the shotgun, they were cheap and common, he quickly checked the pockets of the corpse before taking the patch.

"Blyaaad," Artem muttered to himself. "Now I'm going to have to wash my damn gloves. Mouse! I got a present for you!"

Artem stood up from the corpse and looked around. The girl was nowhere to be seen.

"Mouse? You can come out, bandits are dead." Artem raised his voice slightly. Silence was the only response. He grumbled under his breath and approached the log where he'd left the Girl.

"Mouse, I don't have time for stupid…" Artem's rebuke died in his throat. Mouse had pressed up as close to the log as she could, wild eyes staring at the Stalker. No, not at him. At his hands.

Artem let out a long sigh and nearly ran a bloody hand down his masked face. He squatted down to her height and slowly removed the bloody gloves while speaking.

"You saw all that, huh?"

No response.

"I won't apologize for it. Bandits are the scum of the earth. They would have killed or captured us without a moment's hesitation." Artem's muffled voice spoke. He took another step toward Mouse, causing the girl to shrink back even further.

"What's wrong? Are you scared or something?" Artem asked before muttering to himself. "Great, day one and the kid thinks I'm gonna throttle her."

He unclipped his gas mask and removed it, before withdrawing a pack of cigarettes from a waterproof pouch. He dropped a cigarette as he attempted to light it.

"Fucking adrenaline making my hands shake. Or is It the cold? Hell if I know…" Artem muttered before he took a long drag from his cigarette. A tense silence hung in the air between the two stalkers for a few minutes, broken up by an occasional loud exhale from Artem.

By the time the cigarette had burned down to the filter, the older stalker's hands had stilled. He flicked the butt away and took a deep breath before turning to Mouse.

"Mouse…I… ах, черт возьми, how do I say this." Artem massaged his temple while trying to form a sentence. "I'm a Loner. A free stalker. We don't use any contracts or binding documents. We live and die by our word and our reputation." He turned and looked the girl in the eyes. She had calmed down slightly but still seemed to see him as a dangerous beast.

"I will never harm you of my own free will. I will do my best to protect you until you can survive on your own. As proof of that, I got you this." As Artem spoke, he reached into his pocket and retrieved the looted Makarov.

He ejected the magazine and locked the slide back, rendering it unloaded, before offering it to Mouse, pistol grip pointed toward her. She glanced back and forth between the gun and the Stalker before slowly reaching over and grabbing the gun. Artem cracked a smile as she studied the weapon and let out a squeak of surprise when the slide released with a loud CLICK.

"Makarov PM, 9x18, 8 rounds in a magazine. It's soft shooting, weak, but the perfect size for you. Better than nothing." Artem drew his own handgun and emptied it before demonstrating how to use a handgun. He quickly went over firearm safety and etiquette: Don't point the gun at someone you don't want dead, keep your finger off the trigger until you're ready to shoot, and treat the gun like it's always loaded.

"If you're in a populated area or shelter, keep the gun holstered. People get twitchy when a loaded gun is being swung around." Artem explained. He pointed to the safety on the Makarov's slide.

"If it is up, it goes click. If it's down, it goes bang."

He passed a loaded magazine to Mouse and explained how to load and unload the gun, as well as how to check if it was still loaded. Taking a canteen out of a pouch, Artem quickly drank what little water was left and set it on a stump roughly ten meters away.

"Line the notch and the front sight with the canteen, then squeeze the trigger." Artem ordered, arms crossed over his chest as he watched her form. Her first shot missed, the gun nearly jumping out of her hand. She readjusted her grip and fired again. It struck just below the stump.

"Remember, steady squeeze. Jerking will only waste ammo." Artem stated. Mouse nodded before taking a deep breath and lining up her sights. She slowly squeezed the trigger. BANG

The canteen fell over, a neat hole in the front and back. Artem clapped, a small smile on his face, before setting up the canteen again. They repeated the process four more times, Mouse hitting the makeshift target every time. Artem passed over three more magazines. The Girl fumbled for a few seconds while changing magazines but quickly figured it out. She flicked the safety on and put the handgun in her jacket pocket.

"I have a real holster for you, but we'll have to wait until you get some clothes that fit. For now, just keep the gun and magazines in your pocket." Artem glanced at his watch as he spoke. "We've rested for long enough, let's get moving."

Mouse nodded as she allowed Artem to pick her up and rest on his shoulders. He placed his gas mask back on his face, a slight hiss emanating from it as he sealed it. Mouse placed her own gas mask back on and accepted the B.E.A.R detector from Artem and began dutifully watching it as the man set off at a fast-walking pace down the road. She chose to ignore the cold bandits' corpses.

Artem's humming had returned in full force in the first five minutes of the walk. It had been almost an hour since they had started walking again. As she was about to tap on his helmet, a loud CRACK echoed through the air as something whizzed past. Dirt and dust flew into the air about a foot to Artem's right as a bullet struck into the ground.

A few seconds later, Artem's PDA beeped loudly. Calmly, he raised one hand and slowly reached for the device with the other. A message had been sent on the local channels.

"Vasily 'Smartass': Stalker at the Red Forest entrance, ID yourself or have your brains blown out."

Artem let out an amused huff before typing a response.

"Artem 'Chimera Bait': Go ahead, I know Sava's drunken ass can't shoot to save his life."

Someone shouted in the distance before a figure jumped out from behind a rock and jogged toward the pair. An SVD sniper rifle hung from his shoulder while a gas mask like Mouse's hid his face. On his flecktarn armor, a green wolf head patch was attached. The jog turned into a full sprint as he got closer to Artem.

"Ah shi-"Artem let out before he was nearly crushed in a bear hug by the other man, who was letting out a deep laugh.

"Where the hell have you been брат? Wandering off into the Red Forest without hardly a word, some of us thought you turned into a rock worshipper!" The man asked as he released Artem. He glanced up at Mouse and let out a dramatic gasp. "And who is this?"

"Sava, this is Mouse. Mouse, meet Sava, a sniper for Freedom and a good friend of mine." Artem introduced the two. Mouse shrunk back and nodded hello, causing Sava to laugh again.

"Blyad, you always come with the weirdest situations братан. That's the smallest stalker I've ever seen. He a dwarf or something?" Sava asked as he studied Mouse.

"I swear you've been sampling too much of Skinflint's moss. She's a little girl Sava, not a dwarf." Artem responded with a chuckle. Sava froze at that statement before whipping out his PDA and typing furiously.

"Sava, I swear to God." Artem glanced down at his own PDA as it beeped. A message had been sent through the Freedom broadcast channel. It was typically reserved for mission-critical information or emergency announcements from leaders within the faction.

"Sava 'Scope': HOLY SHIT GUYS, CHIMERA ACTUALLY GOT LAID!"

Artem simply glared at the other stalker as messages flooded the chat.

AN: Another round of word vomit, freshly served. Artem gets a little heated when people try to kill him (ignore the fact he started it).

translation:

ах, черт возьми: "Ah, hell"

Blyad: damn

Брат: "brother"

Братан: "Bro"