Genuinely nice ride to Novosibirsk was full of dreadful anticipation amongst the refugees and soldiers. Who could blame them? They were on a journey to a city that received ten times worse radiation and it certainly did not help when the radio operators passed over the automated alert system. Yet, there was nowhere else for them to go, not with this many people. Even if they tried to settle down somewhere, without suitable lands for farming and the coming winter, death was approaching.

Major Pavel Morozov strolled through the tight corridors of the passenger cars. Unless people were at the front of the train, every aspect of the train was sealed in lead. It was quite a surprise to learn from these people who were willing to share their resources for the greater good. Not only did these seals protect the train, but they gave more room for everyone else when much luggage was emptied. His inspection would be useful to his friend, hiding away in his room.

When the communist officer arrived at Artyom's door, he began to knock. It slid open, revealing a Polis Ranger walking back to his bed, only to lay down on his back. He gestured the man to come in, taking a seat across from him within the small confines of this room. "Did you check the seals?"

"Yes, they are working as intended," He answered as he observed his fellow man's state. The soldier's eyes seemed like they had seen better days, "Are you alright, chuvak?"

"I do not know. Every time my body lays down for an hour's sleep, a quarter after, it wakes."

Pavel steals a glance at the room's surroundings. For someone who leads this small army, it was strange to see him relegated into a closet. "Perhaps we can make adjustments for you to sleep better?"

"No," Answered the Polis Ranger as he shook his head, "We need all the room we have for the luggage. Besides, I'm fine where I am."

"Are you? Do you think you're fine?"

The question alone made him sit up on his bed while expressing worry. There was something wrong and the officer did not know why. That was until he notice the man's hand trembling as if it was stricken by venom. "You tell me?"

"Something is eating you up. It is not the first time I have seen that look before," Artyom had shown himself to be a calm, but proactive, soldier. Yet, this was the first time that the communist had ever seen fear in his friend, "What has gotten you so afraid?"

"Maybe it is the waiting that might be driving me crazy, but I think there is more to that. I have been here and you know that. Once we arrive, the clock will be ticking for us to find an entrance so we can reconnect with OSKOM. Every part of this plan of mine could go wrong at any moment and if it does, everyone on this train will suffer for my failure."

Pavel knew what he was going through. There was a special breed of officers and commanders who cared for the well-being of their men. They can sometimes care too much; however, it is an ideal that sparks admiration. He needed to calm him down back to a reasonable level. "Comrade, I think you might be overthinking too much. Believe me, I understand what it is like to methodically focus on every single detail with that hope your plan works out. Now to expect everything will go out smoothly as planned is unrealistic and naive. Sometimes, you got a look at a gap and jump without hesitation."

"Maybe you are right?" He thought to himself as a slight smile escaped from his darkened mood, "It reminds me a lot of the Moscow Metro, back when I first left my station to save it from the Dark Ones. I had a general idea to get to Polis, but nothing was certain then. So many ways that I could die."

"Do you remember what you said to the Nazis? You told them that they are alive because of you almost everyone on this train is alive because of you. Without you, almost all of us would have found our early graves. When we were all leaderless, I saw a Polis Ranger step forward to keep not just a few bands of soldiers together. Comrade, you saved us. I trust you and will follow you to the edge of the earth so that everyone will live."

The speech was unnecessary, but it brought back the spark that was needed in his friend's soul. Despair could fall upon any man; however, everything was too critical to let the head of the group be psychologically broken. Especially, when they were that close to returning to the fold. There was a hope that maybe Artyom would take in his words and be reinvigorated by the time they arrived in Novosibirsk. Yet, he could not stay any longer as he had to make his preparations as well.

"Well, I need to get going. My fellows from the Red Line need their morale improvements and I think it involves several bottles."

The exhausted young man walked over to the door to let the officer through as he turned his head towards them. "What you said… you didn't have to do this, but I appreciate it."

"No problem," He replied before nodding his head, "Clear your mind and relax. It's how you'll get your rest."

Once the soldier of the Red Line left his room, the wait for Novosibirsk began.

The queen's disappearance was demoralizing to the Arendellians and the Russians within the camp. Anna heard the news from Gerda and Kai about how worried her parents were about Elsa's fate. Much worse, the snow monster that was Snowball, was furious at the fog itself. It was socially awkward when bringing it into conversations, but the loss of Elsa's presence was apparent when it tried to force its way through. Yet, success evaded the creature with every punch while it unleashed its rage on the border itself.

Princess Anna walked up to the creature, concerned about the well-being of everyone else in the camp. It was hard for them to concentrate and sleep when the ground shook and thundered. "Snowball! Snowball!"

"What?!" It demanded as it turned around with furious eyes, "I'm busy."

"My parents are trying to think of a way in. This isn't helping."

The snow monster growled as it tossed another punch but the contact with the fog resulted in an explosive force to answer back. "Open for Elsa!"

"Please, stop trying to punch the fog," She pleaded, "Elsa will have a hard time getting out if you can wait."

"She needs me."

Anna could see the defeat on its expression as it sat back, defeated by powers beyond understanding. Like a child about to cry, the princess walked over and touched the hand. "I know. She needs all of us, but until we get this fog to break open, I'll be the first to let you know."

"Really?" Snowball asked saddened by her words, "You would do that for me?"

She nodded her head and hugged the snow monster's palms. Olaf's habits were genuinely nice rubbing off onto her.

A pair of footsteps echoed across the frozen ground as the very snowman she was thinking of had spoken. "Anna!"

The royal and the mass of snow turned their heads to find him in the open.

"I think I know why the fog took her."

"You do?" She asked while completely confused by her childhood friend's knowledge, "Where did you learn this?'

He shrugged his shoulders as if he was confused as well. "It's just that something tells me that Elsa was meant to be here as if it was ingrained into my head. I don't know why I know this, but I do."

"You said that Elsa was meant to enter Northuldra all by herself."

"Not quite," Olaf replied sheepishly while his fingers twiddled together, "It's more like Northuldra took her once she was recognized."

It was hard to believe that Elsa's creation was discussing details that she didn't normally expect from him. This conversation seemed to defy the general child-like nature he was renowned for, but this information was better than waiting for a break in the fog. "So if you know so much, what can you tell us?"

"Water has memory. That is what you need to know and it just so happens that fog is made out of it. The moment Elsa touched the fog, it was as if Northuldra was waiting for your sister… like it planned on it."

"Are you saying that this place is sentient?" Wondered the princess as she pointed towards the border, "What do you mean that it intended for this to happen?"

The snowman walked up to the fog and touched the whisps. "Think of it like how you reacted when you and Elsa learned about Agnarr and Iduna. The moment you heard about them, the first thing on your mind is to reconnect with your family. That is what this land is trying to do. Your sister is connected to this place."

"If you knew about this, why didn't you tell my parents about this?"

"Remember what I said about water having memories?" Olaf pointed out and turned around towards the princess with a serious look on his face, "I figured this out just now. It's like this place told me without even trying."

Anna stole one more glance at the fog itself, the mystery that had separated her from the camp. She silently vowed to herself not to take a step back from bringing Elsa back, no matter how difficult the obstacle was. Until that hour came, the young lady would have to bide her time. "Let's return to the others, we need to tell my mother and father what Olaf told us."

"Are we leaving Elsa?" Spoke the ice creature towering over her and the snowman, "It seems wrong to do that."

"We will come back. I promise you that."

The trio strode back to the expedition with revitalized conviction while the camp-goers appeared to be less confident in the goals of this adventure. Firepits were littered across the camp, each carrying black cauldrons for stews filled with a mixture of various foods while others had teapots hanging over the flames to relax the soldiers and camp-followers. Arendellians and Russians intermingled into a multitude of conversations, pausing to see the snow monster walk past them.

The royal tent was surrounded by guards as they stood out in the cold. Each man and woman saluted her as they recognized the princess and the company who followed her. Despite the willingness to do their duties, she paused outside of the tent to ask the nearest guard the whereabouts of her parents. "Are they here?"

"Their majesties have left the tent with the station commander," He answered accordingly, "A small party of people has grabbed their attention. You'll find them on the south side of the camp."

"Thank you."

Anna proceeded to follow his directions, making her way to the south. Bypassing another maze of tents along the way, the aroma of warm food filled her mind with delicious thoughts of what to eat but it would remain a figment of her imagination until a meal would feed her stomach. Yet, the situation was different as a commotion grabbed the princess's attention and she made her way towards a large group of people coming together.

When she got there, they split open to let her through alongside Elsa's creations, only to find her parents conversing with several stone trolls behind Grandpebbie while Sukhoi was apart from the others. They were not alone as a squad of Polis Rangers was standing close to Kristoff. She remembered the last time the ice harvester was trying to contact her, but he disappeared before they could speak to each other.

The first thought on her mind deserved to be spoken. "What is going on?"

Everyone turned their heads around towards her before Agnarr and Grandpebbie made their approach to the princess.

"Anna, a plot has been uncovered," Her father began in a serious tone she had rarely seen from him, "Those Rangers and that young man behind me said that Prince Hans was plotting to take the throne of Arendelle and kill Elsa."

The elder troll followed up. "My dear, the implication of such a possibility is dangerous for everyone. If he succeeds, we don't know what could happen with magic that she carries."

"It is much worse. He is the reason why you were kidnapped and why Artyom and those soldiers were cut off."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Prince Hans was responsible for all that had happened to them? The very fact that Elsa was torn up about losing Artyom was because he wanted power did little to grasp this situation. Much worse, she remembered how the man had appeared to be a genuinely nice man in everyone's eyes. "What else did he do?"

"When we find Elsa, she has to know," Agnarr stated before turning towards Kristoff standing beside his sled attached to a reindeer, "He tried to have him silenced."

"If we do find him, we'll have to be persuasive. She loves him after all."

A thousand boots clashed against the dirt as the Preobrazhensky Life Guard marched uniformly in a column. Besides their flanks were the hussars with their swords sheathed and cossacks carrying their lances raised high beside their regimental flags. With the inception of winter still early, the tsar was eager to ride out in the company of his soldiers alongside his aides. The last time Prince Dolokhov had seen his majesty ride out with such a force was when the empire was at war decades ago.

The Russian noble kept his thoughts to himself while he stole glances from the old man's physical health. Time spent on his throne had been unkind to him and so Vaska became silently worried while they headed north. Fortunately, Tsar Mikhail's horse was not as impetuous as the steeds being used for the cavalry, allowing a stable ride across the hinterlands of this kingdom. Despite that knowledge, he still kept an eye on him since he was the last emperor with no immediate relatives to take the throne should he fall ill.

It is as if fate had sealed the old tsar's family the moment he had taken the throne. He remembered the past when his monarch had his family to keep him company during the day-to-day affairs as the head of state. The tsar had been married to a daughter of the Prussian throne, which lead to having four sons and a daughter. Then misfortune hit the royals with a plague spreading all across Russia while taking the wife and the sons to the grave. Such sadness struck the empire as if it was a surprise invasion, leaving a daughter and her father behind in the aftermath.

Life was different then… until those Soviets arrived. The strangers from a different Russia lived in a different time. Prince Vaska recalled the level of secrecy by the state to keep these developments to themselves and all went well. Soon the memories of the drama had resurfaced into his mind as some upstart merchant had bought his island and crowned himself king. That sly bastard had the gall to ask the heiress her hand despite lacking recognition. It still didn't compare to the scandal where one of the Soviets danced with her.

The nobleman's heart had stopped to feel the regret in his soul. It was all his fault for encouraging the moment. Marya wanted to dance but she was afraid for her own sake to avoid embarrassment and then the young Prince Dolokhov took pity on her before he explained it to one of the men. Then he recollected that time when one of those foreign Russians offered to give the young girl a chance to save face. So the man found himself making suggestions and providing her a slight push to dance with a complete stranger. Everything seemed perfect and the princess was happy with the man she chose but he had forgotten about romance.

It was his fault for the emperor becoming a lonely man.

A cossack had ridden his horse up to Mikhail and quickly reported him. "Your majesty, we have company from our right flank!"

He pointed towards the right as Tsar Mikhail and Prince Dolokhov turned their heads towards a side of a hill where a small caravan was traversing down the slope. They did not seem to be in a hurry; however, Vaska could tell that they were approaching them with just the naked eye alone.

"One of our riders met with them. They are the Russians from the other world and they claim that they're willing to accompany us to the north."

"Any reason for doing so?" Asked the monarch, "Why didn't they come with us earlier?"

The cossack stole a glance at the strangers from afar. "A Colonel Klebnikov said that they received word that Queen Elsa is missing and are sending help to search for her."

"Alright, welcome these strange brothers of ours. I pray that everyone here will be ready for a forced march. We can't let them show us off now, can we?"

Soldiers cheered at this dare from their tsar, eagerly waiting for a race in the kingdom of Arendelle. While they smiled, Prince Dolokhov hoped that he was healthy enough for such a pace.

Five men followed their colonel in the heart of the kingdom. They had left an ominous presence across those they came across. Who could blame them? After all, what could necessitate armed soldiers when there was no conflict nearby? Little did they know about the Spartan Commander's intentions at the castle as he led his squad across the bridge and towards the main gates.

Prince Hans was last sighted to be living in the guest rooms, but Colonel Mel'nikov was not sure that information was accurate. Especially, when he was going to confront him in force after intercepting his communications. Deep down, the old officer wanted to hang the kid from a tree, but he knew that would cause more trouble than it was worth. It was not going to bring back his men from the dead.

When he arrived at the gates, he noticed the two Arendellian guards standing at attention, but they have certainly seen who comes and goes through these gates. "Excuse me, have you seen Prince Hans?"

"Yes, sir," answered one of the men, "The prince is leaving today and is fetching his belongings before departing. If you're quick enough, you'll find him at the docks."

"Thank you."

The commander of the Spartan Order was quick to run across the square as the civilians made way for him and his men. As they made their way towards the docks, the prince's apparel had distinguished himself from the dockworkers while making his way towards the ship in the harbor.

"Prince Hans!" He shouted just the Rangers stepped onto the wooden floorboards, "We need to have a chat with you."

Hans merely looked over his shoulder and recognized the man. Then he started to run towards the ramp. "Raise the anchor! We are leaving!"

"After him!" It was quite clear that the masquerade was torn apart as the officer rallied his men to chase after him. However, dozens of men ran towards the back of their ship with muskets in hand, "Shit, find some cover!"

The Polis Rangers immediately took refuge behind nearby crates littered across the docks before firing upon the enemy. With the initial burst of gunfire, the workers were quick to flee the scene as a firefight broke out between special forces and early modern weaponry. Then smoke filled the back of the ship after a loud volley echoed from the barrels of the musketeers. While inaccurate, the sheer volume of fire involved large bullets flying over the heads of the Russians before they punished them with automatic fire.

Colonel Mel'nikov brandished his assault rifle and fired ahead of him, but he was met with surprise when he saw the anchor rising from the depths of the water as the last chainlink was being brought in. "Damn it, they're about to leave!"

He risked everything by leaving the safety of cover just to run past the fire and smoke. A man of his age had no business at pushing his limits; however, adrenaline was a hell of a drug. While his men outclassed the musketeers by killing them aboard their vessel, it moved away from the docks and shifted the ramp in the process.

There was a vain hope that somehow the commander could board the ship until the ramp fell into the water. At that point, there was no possibility of dealing with Prince Hans at that moment. Sviatoslav quietly swore to himself as his enemy left his clutches. Yet, he saw a glimpse of a man loading his musket after watching his fellows die. The old soldier knelt onto one knee and readied his assault rifle while calmly steadying his chance. For a moment, everything was still as he held his breath. Then he fired.

A single bullet zipped across the distance as the ship was just outside of the fjord. All the colonel could do was watch helplessly as his target was struck mercilessly and fell onto the deck.

Now that the plan to deal with the man responsible had failed, the commander of the Spartan Order knew full well that he would pay for this moment. A small degree of solace came into mind when he thought about the fighting that had occurred a minute ago, if this royal from the Southern Isles wanted to contest his affiliations with the army of bandits and slavers, he had made himself guilty.

The threat of Prince Hans now loomed over his shoulders and he needed to make preparations to deal with it. Hopefully, Colonel Klebnikov would have better success in finding the queen.

Days passed in the land of forests and hills; yet, the Queen of Arendelle did not feel like she was any closer to the homes of the Northuldrans. They had set up camp in a clearing but the party's setup was heavily divided into two groups - the Arendellians and the Northuldrans. The only person who stood between them was Elsa herself as she got accustomed to the camp life while huddling over a fire pit meant for her.

She stole a glance from the two groups, who had kept to themselves up until this point. There was a chance that they could reconcile their differences, but until she reached that point, the best she could do was keep them apart from killing each other. Having to become a mediator between these two people reminded her a lot about Artyom's role in the Metro - a peacekeeper between enemies. The royal had made her peace with his death but she still would have liked him around.

Soon the young woman immediately caught someone's approach from the Northuldran side of the camp. Honeymaren came and joined her by the fire. "Are you doing okay? You seem to be alone and could use the company."

"It's fine," Elsa smiled before tightening her mother's scarf around the neck, "I'm just reminiscing old memories that lead me here."

"So what have you staring at the flames?"

The queen leaned back and planted her hands on the ground. "There was a man who helped me at my darkest hour and if it was not for him, I wouldn't have known about this place."

"He sounds wonderful," Honeymaren remade as she turned her head towards her, "What happened to him?"

"Artyom died trying to save my sister."

It was a somber thought to remember; however, all the crying had passed. The only feeling she had left for him was regret for the loss of a good and honest soul. Soon the conversation shifted from her friend's fate and onto a tangible discussion when the Northuldran girl noted her apparel. "Your scarf, who did it belong to?"

"My mother," She answered before taking it off and inspecting the symbols on it, "When she went missing, it was the only real thing piece that she left behind before my sister and I found her. Why so curious?"

"This couldn't have been made by Arendellians, but Northuldrans. Only our oldest families carry have them."

When the queen heard of this, she widened her eyes in surprise before the two shared the moment to inspect the scarf. "How can this be?"

"Do you see the embroidery? Each one represents a spirit of the forests in Northuldra" Honeymaren pointed out as she looked at each symbol, "If this was your mother's then she must have been Northuldran. Which means, you're one of us as well."

Temperatures continued to drop as the snowfall covered the train in white. The only mercy for the train was the engines and its lead sealants. As the engineers busied themselves at preventing the whole train from being frozen stuck, Artyom stood at the front with his gas mask on. Much time had passed since he had last worn it; however, it was not as much of a concern when compared to the radiation. He took a good look at the Geiger counter, only to find the ticking to rise the longer he was out there, a hint of what is to come.

The young man turned away from the front of the train and walked back into the transition compartment where the engineers and the leaders of their groups were present. No mistakes could be tolerated on this day because so many lives depended on them. He noted the OSKOM personnel among them before he addressed everyone. "Gentlemen, we have crossed the threshold there is no turning back for any of us. We'll be relying on the soldiers from OSKOM to guide us and defer to their knowledge since this is their home. So where will be heading?"

"We're going to be heading towards the south side of the city and park at the Sibirskaya Cargo Station. It's a transfer station to Krasny Prospekt- OSKOM's headquarters," Answered a masked man, "Do not expect sunshine and daisies when we get there. There is a quick time frame for a small team to deploy and find the entrance to the Metro. Once found, inform the local authorities to prepare for our civilians and get them out as quickly as possible. Personnel items are secondary and we can get them cleaned up once we're down there."

A heavy trooper of the Fourth Reich was quick to speak. "Any expected resistance along the way? It can't simply be a walk in the park."

"Unlikely, but keep an eye out. We have mutants called blind ones, lurking around the city. They usually keep to themselves at the old Akademgorodok labs, but can sometimes hunt on their own. If we see one, dump as much firepower as you can on those bastards. Our local stalkers fear them with good reason."

"They better know better," He remarked, "I am pure human DNA and will gladly put them down if they show their faces."

Soon their eyes turned onto Artyom as he noticed Pavel, Olga, and Roman standing behind everyone else. He needed to lead them with as much conviction as Colonel Mel'nikov did for him back when he was a scared boy. "A squad from the Red Line and a squad from OSKOM will accompany me to the Metro station. The rest of you guard the train while we are away and prevent any hostile wildlife from getting on board and breaking the lead seals. Pavel, you're with me."

When the plan had been finalized, their lives were now left to chance as the engineers were guided by the OSKOM soldiers. Navigating through the city streets was a more daunting experience for Artyom as he still felt the taste of metal in his mouth. Piles of snow had filled the streets, but much worse were the vehicle wrecks that stood in their way. This unease had worried the young man as he looked outside of the windows as the train would slowly bypass or shove them out of the way.

His ears were attuned to the rhythmic beats of the train's engine combustions while he leaned against the doorway towards the front railings; however, his gaze fell upon the dead city beyond the windows. If he ignored the wrecks, it looked as if the whole city wasn't affected by the bombs save for the few ruined buildings. Such a shame that humanity's destruction against itself had made an entire species fall from grace. He wasn't a believing man but the Polis Ranger pondered what God thought about this whole ordeal. Was he afraid of what his own creation had done or was the twenty years of ceaseless existence a form of punishment for the sins against the earth and reality itself?

The sight of his own homeland being nothing more than a reminder of a past made Artyom feel the sorrow that every post-apocalypse survivor carried within their hearts. Yet, he carried a childhood wish that none of this should have happened and that the nuclear was prevented by calmer heads. It was a dream that would not happen, no matter how hard he tried. That reality was closed off from him forever each day he lived from the pinnacle age of human civilizations. The stories of men reaching the stars or conquering nature itself would be fleeting, only to be replaced by more simple stories of survivors enduring the aftermath of such desolation. There was nothing left for him in this world except an irradiated corpse in an unmarked grave.

An OSKOM soldier in the front train had alerted him and the others. "Comrades, we're here."

The young man readied himself for the adventure as he replaced his current air filter for a new one before taking one last look at the men following him. They had all been waiting for this day where countless months were spent trying to return home. Nothing could be held back from this moment of salvation.

Artyom opened the door and lead the way while the snow continued to descend from above and the winds blew with great gusto. His plash palatka blew in the air as he walked back to the front of the train, only to be met by the sight of a cargo station. He remembered the last time he was here, helping Ulhman and Colonel Klebnikov on the expedition to the east. Now his journey came back in a full circle, coming back to the city where he left off. Then the Polis Ranger jumped over the railing as his boots smashed against the several meters of packed snow. It was going to be a slog, but it will be worth it in the end.

Nineteen men departed from the parked train in force. Their faces locked away behind gasmasks and armored visors while their flashlights lit the way. Every step they took would leave a trail behind as the Polis Ranger led the Red Line and OSKOM soldiers towards salvation. They began by following the rail lines into the cargo station, where the main doors to the warehouse were closed shut before two men unlocked it and cracked the entrance. Pavel and his men took the lead and inserted themselves inside before the flashlights flickered in the darkness. Then everyone else followed after him.

The building on the surface suffered immense radiation throughout their search for an entrance into Krasny Prospekt. So it was clear that there was no way the locals would maintain a surface habitation zone the Order had in Moscow. Meaning, they had to look for the underground access points for themselves.

Pavel shouted to the top of his lungs as he grabbed Artyom's attention. "Over here!"

Artyom ran over to the communist's findings at the front, only to discover a massive ramp down with the rail lines leading towards sealed hermetic doors that were large enough for a train to enter.

"I suppose knocking on the doors wouldn't work?" He said jokingly before looking at the arch, "What do you know? There's a camera there."

The Polis Ranger had to earn the attention of the locals before time was wasted. "It wouldn't hurt to try."

Soon he walked up to the closed entrance and started knocking on the metal with his knuckles. Though it started to hurt the longer he did it and so Artyom needed to give an extra kick, literally. When his foot did the knocking, the impact was much louder than before with the doors vibrating.

A few minutes passed as computer sounds echoed throughout the building before the camera had finally moved. Its lens looked at the two squads standing at the front in complete silence; however, the young man could feel the gaze of the men on the other side judging him. To his surprise, an in-built sound speaker scrambled live. "Who the fuck are you guys and what are you doing out here? Didn't you listen to the radio signals?! Don't come into Novosibirsk the radiation will kill you!"

The ground grumbled as the dust and dirt were kicked off the doors. As the entrance slowly opened, the soldiers were met with a makeshift tank staring at them while the gunner manned his post beside a complement of soldiers on sentry duty. It was a rather hostile affair as Artyom released his grip on the assault rifle and kept his hands up.

Out from their defensive line was an officer who stepped out from the company of his soldiers in a peaked cap and gas mask while his hands remained behind his back. "You have to be desperate or stupid to go on a suicidal journey in this city. Identify yourselves!"

He needed to address them quickly. "My name is Artyom Alekseyevich Chyornyj. I'm a Polis Ranger of the Spartan Order. There is more of us, but we're the Caspian expedition that was cut off."

The OSKOM soldiers who were guarding the entrance expressed confusion among themselves by taking a look at each other despite the gas masks covering their faces. Even their commanding officer paused at the revelation.

"I will need to defer to high command," He replied before checking onto his radio, "This is Captain Rusakov, we've got some guests right here. They took a land route into the city but they claim they're part of the Caspian expedition. There's about-"

He cut himself off before focusing his full attention on the Polis Ranger.

"Hey, it's just you guys, right?!"

Artyom shook his head. "No, we're just a scouting team. Just outside the building, there's a train full of hundreds of refugees with us. It has lead sealings, but we need to get inside before they take in the radiation."

The captain gave him a nod of his head as he gestured for the squads to come inside. "Alright, we'll deal with this after. Get your people in!"

He was relieved to hear that. They had finally made it back.

Such euphoria came to an end when his radio crackled with Roman's voice. "Guys, we need help! Some gorilla fucker saw us and is trying to get on the train."

"Hold on, we're coming!" The soldier answered on his radio before turning to the men of OSKOM and the Red Line, "The train's under attack! We need every help we can get."

Captain Rusakov nodded his head and rallied his men. "Come on comrades, help your brothers out."

The two squads were now followed by an entire company of OSKOM soldiers as they retraced their way back to the train. Soon the door to the building was widened enough to not only let this wave of soldiers flow through but also allow the makeshift tank to move up the ramp and leave its confines. As they returned back to the packed snow, the Geiger counters continues to click even louder than before, but hopefully, the radioprotector in the Novosibirsk Metro would solve that issue altogether.

When they returned to the train, Artyom recognized a familiar figure that almost resembled a Librarian from Moscow. Yet, it was different somehow. The closer the soldiers got to the parked train, he could sense its thoughts and desires. However, the one detail that was on its mind was a desire to hunt and kill just to feed itself.

A monster clad in black fur was attached to the side of the train as women and children screaming for their lives. The seals had been broken by this monster as it sought out an easy meal for itself but gunfire erupted from within the train in an attempt to fend off the creature. Despite this resistance, it only invited the mutant's ferocity as it began to smash onto the side of a passenger train, breaking apart windows and walls.

Everything changed when the tank fired overhead, allowing a few bursts of tracer rounds to hit the beast in the back. For a moment, it was repelled as the creature jumped away from the train and turned towards the soldiers in the open. It howled a mighty growl before charging towards the dispersed troops coming to the rescue. Those in the open had stopped and unleashed their firepower upon the monster as it charged. Bullets ripped through the air as the beast took on the full might of humanity at this single moment.

Artyom joined the fray by directing his barrel towards the beast and holding down the trigger. His tightly gripped hands held the weapon down as a means of counteracting the recoil of full-auto. A quick glance at the magazine showed how quickly he emptied his ammo in a matter of seconds; however, the monster did not relent.

He let go of his weapon and reached for the one hanging from his back, brandishing the Hellbreathe for the fight. The electric discharge had set off before another ball-bearing took a place in the chamber, just to be fired again to kill the beast that had threatened his people. Armor-piercing projectiles flew quickly before the monster stunned in place after receiving five shots from Artyom's weapon. It nonetheless pressed forward, enraged by the stand that took place.

The gap between the soldiers and the mutant was closing, causing many at the front to run back lest they fight it in close quarters. Pavel was among the men fleeing but the Blind One was faster than him. Horrified by what could happen, the Polis Ranger charged forward to save his friend from an ugly end. His breathing increased as he sprinted towards the officer's aid with his railgun charged to the maximum. Then his friend tripped over and fell into the snow as the mutant was a moment away from striking him down with its muscular hands.

A Ranger arrived in time to save his life as he jammed his weapon into the side of the beast. The electric pain it received on contact had made the monster step back out of fear; however, it grabbed the weapon and tore it out from the young man's grasp. Then its second hand swept across the air and backhanded the soldier. Artyom found himself flying in the air with his gas mask broken before he landed in the snow. His head was in excruciating pain before he looked back to find Pavel calling out for him. Those words faded out of his mind as the world went black.