Black Sun

Chapter 2

Ruby drew her cloak around herself as she stepped inside Sidorovich's bunker, shivering the entire time.

"Is it always this cold and rainy here?" she asked through chattering teeth. "Seriously, it's rained almost every day since I got here."

"Welcome to Ukraine," Wolf replied.

He motioned for her to lead the way, and she did, stepping in front of him. The container at her hip was heavy with Artifacts, and she was eager to offload them.
Her debt had been paid, and now it was time to get outfitted properly. If she was going to be in the Zone for awhile, then getting geared up was a necessity.

The two of them stepped through the second thick metal door to Sidorovich's shop. The man himself stared at them in surprise, a turkey leg held halfway to his mouth. Despite herself, Ruby couldn't help but stare greedily at the turkey leg – all the food she'd had over the past few days had come from a can, and it had all been barely edible. A fresh turkey leg sounded downright heavenly right now.

"Wolf," Sidorovich grunted, setting his food down and wiping his greasy hands on his shirt. "What brings you here?"

"Business," Wolf answered. "Specifically, her business. She'll be trading with you today."

"Is that so? What does she have?"

"More Artifacts," Ruby reported. She unhooked the container from her belt, then set it down on the counter and opened it so Sidorovich could see. "Three Stone Flowers and one Jellyfish."

"Hm," Sidorovich mused. "A decent haul, I suppose. Not bad for a day's work, at any rate. How much?"

"Actually, we were planning to barter," Wolf interrupted. "Give her the standard gear and we'll call it even for two of the Stone Flowers and the Jellyfish."

"If you say so," Sidorovich said. He reached out and hurriedly scooped up the three Artifacts, leaving just one Stone Flower behind. "Wait here."

With that, he turned and stepped deeper into his bunker. Ruby listened as he rummaged around for a few minutes, occasionally letting out a muffled curse or saying something in his native Ukrainian. After a few minutes, he returned, his arms loaded with gear which he set on the counter and pushed over to her.

"The standard setup for a beginner Stalker," he reported. "You've got some basic clothes – jeans, a sweater, and a leather jacket – plus a PDA, a Kalashnikov bayonet, binoculars, a Geiger counter… the works, really. There's also some medical supplies, plus some food and water."

Ruby nodded in understanding, then reached out and took all the items offered to her. With her head, she motioned to the last remaining Artifact. "What will that get me?"

"That's up to you," Wolf interjected. "Would you rather have a rifle or a shotgun?"

"What?" Ruby asked, surprised. "I'm getting another gun?"

"Of course. That little Nagant revolver isn't worth much in a fight, especially against other people. You need something that packs more of a punch."

Ruby shivered at his casual mention of fighting against human beings. Sure, she had done exactly that back on Remnant, but it had been done with the understanding that everyone she was fighting had Aura, and could survive whatever hits she doled out. From what Wolf had told her, people on Earth didn't have Aura, and attempts to unlock his or even regenerate her own had failed miserably.

The implications of that were scary on their own, but the knowledge that she might eventually have to fight people to the death was even worse.

"What do you recommend?" Ruby asked.

"They both have their uses," Wolf answered. "Many Stalkers carry both a rifle and a shotgun in addition to their handguns – they keep the rifle in case someone is shooting at them, and use the shotgun for mutants. Personally, I've found that a rifle will kill a mutant just as easily as a shotgun if you're a decent shot, and I don't like having to carry around two long arms. I would go with the rifle."

Ruby nodded in understanding. "Then the rifle sounds like it'd be best."

"I'll see what I have," Sidorovich said.

He disappeared back into the bunker for little while, then came back holding a rifle that looked positively ancient, even when compared to the one Wolf carried. Similar to Wolf's, it was a crude amalgamation of wood and steel, but unlike his rifle, this one was bolt-action – Ruby could tell just from looking at the receiver that it wasn't an automatic.

Sidorovich laid the rifle down on the counter across from her. Seeing it, Wolf raised an eyebrow.

"Seriously?" he asked.

"Take it or leave it," Sidorovich challenged. "I just sold my last Tokarev rifle to one of the other rookies. This is all I've got that's actually within her price range, unless you wanted to wait a week and come back with another Stone Flower – I've got a shipment of Simonov carbines on the way that should be here by then. I'd be willing to hold onto one for her if she paid half up front right now and the other half when the rifles get here. But for now, that Mosin is all I've got."

Wolf sighed tiredly. "It'll do for the time being, I suppose. Does it at least come with-"

He didn't even get to finish his sentence before Sidorovich slammed a steel case of ammo on the counter. No sooner had the four corners of the case touched the wood than did he reach out and snatch up the remaining Artifact.

"Pleasure doing business with you," he said.

Wolf rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah… come on, Ruby; let's go."

Ruby nodded. Wolf picked up her new rifle for her, and together the two of them stepped back out into the rain for the short walk back to the Rookie Village. It was almost nightfall already – between the stormclouds, Ruby could just barely make out the moon steadily creeping up into the sky. She stared up at it as she walked, transfixed by the sight of an unbroken moon for the first time in her life.

That sealed it, then – she really was trapped in another world.

"I'll give you some privacy," Wolf said as they arrived at the run-down house he had claimed for the two of them. "That way you can change into your new outfit – I'm sure you're tired of having to wear that dirty, bloodstained one."

Ruby looked down at her clothes, frowning at what she saw. She loved her Huntress outfit, of course, but it was not at all suitable for the Zone, so it would have to go. Even her cloak wasn't safe – it stood out too much against the ground; anyone who wanted to shoot at her would spot her a mile away. Thankfully, she had an entire closet full of replacements for both back on Patch, so it wasn't much of a loss, but still. Between losing Crescent Rose and losing her Huntress outfit, she was beginning to feel less and less like a true Huntress with every passing moment.

Wolf left her, and Ruby wasted no time in changing into her new clothes. Admittedly, they weren't particularly comfortable – everything was too big for her, to the point where the only way to keep her jeans up was to cinch her pistol belt as tight as it would possibly go – but it was better than walking around in her old, ruined clothes.

Once she had changed, Ruby turned her attention to the rifle, which Wolf had left lying in a nearby corner, propped up against one of the walls. Curiosity got the better of her, and she picked it up for a closer look, turning it over in her hands before pulling the weapon's bolt back.

"It's a nice-looking gun, at least."

Wolf's voice took her by surprise, causing her to jump, her heart skipping a beat. "Ah!" She leveled a glare at him. "Don't do that!"

"Do what?" Wolf asked.

"You know, barging in unannounced and surprising me with a sudden comment! And you didn't even knock, either! What if I had still been naked?!"

"I figured you weren't when I heard you work the bolt." He motioned to the gun in her hands. "Did you want to know more about it?"

Instantly, Ruby's irritation faded. "If you're offering."

Wolf stepped into the room, drawing close enough to run his hands over the rifle. "It's a Mosin-Nagant M44 carbine," he explained. "Basically a shortened version of the standard Mosin-Nagant rifle. This variant has a cruciform bayonet attached that's permanently affixed to the front of the weapon and folds to the side when not in use. It holds five 7.62x54 millimeter rimmed cartridges. The Mosin was the standard-issue service rifle of the Russian military for a very long time before it was replaced by the Simonov carbine, and then by the Kalashnikov. It still sees use around the world; the damn rifle has been in service for well over a hundred years at this point. It's not the prettiest rifle or the newest rifle, but it just works no matter how much you abuse it, and that's why it still sees limited use in various third-world countries." He motioned to the rifle slung over his shoulder. "Unlike my Simonov, the Mosin is a bolt-action rifle. But what it lacks in fire rate, it makes up for in power."

"And recoil and noise, I presume?" Ruby asked, focusing her attention on the weapon's front. "With a barrel that short, I'm sure it kicks like a mule, with a report and a muzzle flash to match."

"Correct on all counts," Wolf grunted. "This thing will ruin your hearing after just a few shots. So be sure that you actually want to kill whatever you're shooting at, because otherwise it isn't worth deafening yourself."

Ruby looked back to the rifle's receiver. "What are the controls on this thing? The safety and such."

Wolf shook his head. "The Mosin has a terrible safety," he said. "You're better off keeping the chamber empty and the gun loaded with five rounds, then just cycling the bolt to load a round before you fire it for the first time."

"Seriously?" Ruby asked.

He shrugged. "The gun was designed over a hundred years ago. It was outdated when my grandfather was using it, to say nothing of now. With any luck, you'll be able to trade up to a Simonov or a Tokarev soon. For now, it's better than not having a rifle in the first place. You just have to learn to work with its shortcomings."

"...Yeah, I guess," Ruby said. "Should I load it?"

Wolf nodded. "Yes. Do you need-"

He took a step forward to offer some help, but Ruby beat him to the punch. She whipped out a stripper clip of five rounds, inserted the clip into the weapon's action, and pushed all five bullets into the internal magazine. She then closed the bolt, taking care to remove the clip and pocket it, while also pushing down on the top round in the magazine to keep it from being loaded into the chamber. Once the bolt was fully closed, she slung the weapon over her shoulder, then looked back to Wolf.

"What?" she asked.

He blinked. "...Never mind," he said. "Now, did you want to take it out shooting? I can teach you how to use the sights."

Ruby waved him off. "Much as I'd appreciate going out shooting right now, with how expensive ammo is, I think I'd better save what I've got. Plus, the sights don't look that difficult to me."

"They aren't, so long as you keep in mind that the rear sight is calibrated in meters," Wolf explained. "Some of the older Mosin rifles have sights calibrated in arshins, though. I doubt you'll ever come across one of those, but if you do, just keep in mind that one arshin is equal to twenty-eight inches. The four-hundred arshin setting on one of those rifles would come out to just under three-hundred meters, I think."

Ruby nodded along. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks, Wolf."

"Hm. Now then, it's a bit late to go out Artifact hunting, but we can all sit around the fire. I'll see if I can't get Fanatic drunk enough to start trying to play guitar again."

He motioned for her to follow him, and Ruby did so, stepping out into the rain with her new gear on and her rifle slung over her back.

That night, Ruby was awoken by several loud voices from just outside the run-down house she was sleeping in. Immediately, she sat up straight, her hand falling to her holstered pistol, though she was suddenly stopped by Wolf reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder.

"It's alright," he assured her. "It's just the others. They must've found something."

Ruby breathed a small sigh of relief, then let her grip fall off the gun. "Should we go see what's up?"

Wolf nodded, and the two of them set out, following after the group of men as they marched to Sidorovich's bunker. Upon entering, they found themselves at the back of a small crowd, several of whom were carrying an unconscious man with them. Through the commotion, Ruby was able to make out Sidorovich's irritated shouting.

"Well, why did you bring him here?!" the shopkeeper said, annoyed. "What am I supposed to do with him? Where's Wolf?"

"Right here," Wolf said, stepping forwards. "What's all the fuss about? Who's the new guy?"

"We don't know," another Stalker, a young man that Ruby recognized as Nimble, replied. "He was on one of the Death Trucks, Wolf. Damn thing got struck by lightning; it's a miracle he managed to escape unscathed."

"Not totally unscathed," Drifter muttered. "His head's all fucked up. He keeps spouting a bunch of nonsense in Russian and saying he can't remember anything."

"What would you know about it, anyway?" Sidorovich challenged. "All of you, get out of here. I need to talk to Wolf. Leave the new guy."

The other Stalkers all nodded, then passed the newcomer over to Wolf; the delirious, half-unconscious man slumped into Wolf's arms, and Wolf did his best to support him and keep him from falling over, looking to Sidorovich the whole time.

"What do you want me to do with him?" Wolf asked.

"The same thing you do with all the rookies – teach him the ropes and put him to work," came the answer.

"Is that wise?" Wolf asked. "He was on a Death Truck. He could be Monolith, for all we know."

"If he is Monolith, then he's shit at his job," Sidorovich grunted. "But if it worries you that much, then have the others keep an eye on him, and shoot him if he tries anything funny. Otherwise, once he's good to go, send him to me."

"Do we even have a name for this guy?" Wolf asked, checking the man over. "I don't see anything written on his outfit."

"All we've got is that Stalker tattoo on his arm," Sidorovich said. "The others were calling him the Marked One because of it. I figure that's as good a name as any, don't you?"

Wolf shrugged. "Fine. Do you want to me to just put him up in a house somewhere?"

"I don't particularly care what you do with him, so long as he's fit to start earning me money," Sidorovich said. "Just get him out of here so I can go back to sleep, already. And tell the guys that in the future, whatever they want to show me can wait until morning."

Wolf nodded, then threw one of the Marked One's arms around his shoulder and began to help the still-delirious man out of the bunker and into one of the houses. Once they were inside, Wolf placed him on one of the old mattresses lying around, then stepped out into the night. Ruby followed after him, and as she went to leave, cast a glance back at the Marked One. She found him lying on his side, fast asleep. A frown crossed her face.

"Hey, Wolf?" she called. "Is he gonna be okay? He doesn't look so good."

"That is a good question," Wolf said. "He came from a Death Truck – those are trucks that Monolith members use to bring people to the power plant, so named because nobody has ever come back from being placed on one… until now, at least. For his sake, I hope he's alright after some rest. I can get Doc to check on him, but I don't know if he'll be able to do much."

Ruby's frown deepened, which Wolf took notice of. "Don't worry about him," Wolf said. "Focus on yourself – you've still got a lot to learn before you're ready to start making your way on your own."

"About that," Ruby began. "I was just wondering… do you think there's a way back home for me?"

Wolf hesitated. "...If the rumors about the Wish Granter are true, then yes."

Immediately, Ruby perked up. "The Wish Granter?"

Wolf nodded. "It's said to be something capable of granting any wish you desire. Unfortunately, it probably doesn't even exist… but even if it did, all the rumors say that it's inside the power plant itself, and there's currently no way to safely get to it. Even if you manage to make it through the Brain Scorcher unscathed, you'll have to contend with Monolith, and that's a fool's errand for all but the most experienced of Stalkers."

Ruby's expression fell. She let out a forlorn sigh. "Thanks for letting me know about it," she said, glumly. "Still, once I've learned enough to strike out on my own, I at least know what I'll have to do. I've gotta find my way home."

"For your sake, I hope you find it," Wolf said.

The two of them stepped back into the small house that Wolf had commandeered. Ruby took her place on one of the small, stained mattresses that lined the floor, shrugged off her rifle, and did her best to fall asleep, despite the pangs of homesickness that had started to eat away at her mind.

The next day, Ruby awoke to more commotion out in the center of the village. Grumbling, she sat up, though this time she didn't bother to reach for her holstered revolver. Instead, she looked around, and upon noticing that Wolf was already gone, she slung her Mosin over her shoulder, then stepped outside.

Predictably, a crowd had gathered, Wolf among them.

"Wolf?" Ruby asked as she drew closer. "What's going on?"

"Bandits," Wolf spat. "Seems like we were right – they've moved into the old car park down the road."

"That's not all," Fanatic interrupted. "They've got Nimble."

Ruby blinked, surprised. "What happened?"

"Crazy fool got himself captured trying to hunt for Artifacts early this morning," Wolf grumbled. "He must've gotten too close to the car park, and the bandits took him hostage."

"So, what do we do, Wolf? Are they asking for ransom?"

"Of course they are," Wolf answered, crossing his arms. "The only problem is that we can't afford it. The only one who's got that kind of money around here is Sidorovich, and you're crazy if you think he's going to hand over any money for a Stalker, no matter who they are."

"So, what then?" Ruby asked, already knowing she was going to dread the answer.

"We do the only thing we can do," Wolf said. "We're going in after him."

Ruby couldn't help but swallow nervously. She looked around at all the Stalkers standing in the center of the village – about six of them; of the six of them, she only recognized Wolf, Fanatic, and Drifter. She knew who Nimble was, of course – he was one of the more lively Stalkers in the Village, and was a common fixture around the campfire every night.

Of course, despite how well-liked Nimble was, Ruby couldn't help but wonder about something.

"Do you have the numbers for that?"

The men all exchanged a glance before turning back to her.

"We don't know," Fanatic begrudgingly admitted. "There's only six of us who are willing to go. We've got no idea how many bandits there are – it could just be a few, or it could be more than the entire village. We'd have more on our side, but several of the Rookies don't feel confident enough to get into a gunfight yet."

"It doesn't matter," Wolf said gruffly. "We're going in after him."

"You're expecting shooting?" Ruby asked, horrified.

"Of course," Drifter cut in. "How else would we deal with bandits?"

"Drifter," Wolf chastised, causing him to fall silent. He turned back to Ruby. "We could use your help, you know," he said. "Not to actually assault the car park – I wouldn't ask that of you – but it'd be helpful to have somebody who actually knows how to shoot with us, to watch our backs and alert us if any mutants or bandits approach."

Ruby was taken aback. "You want me to help you?"

"Hell, we'll take anyone we can get at this point," one of the other Stalkers said. "Wolf says you know your way around a gun, and we're all willing to take his word for it if it helps even the odds a bit."

"You won't be kicking down the door with us," Wolf reiterated. "You'd just be a lookout, nothing more."

Ruby hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say. She looked around at the men surrounding her, all of them staring at her expectantly. Again, she swallowed nervously.

Obviously, this was extremely dangerous – she'd be headed right into the lion's den, without her Aura or her main weapon.

And what if the worst happened? What if she did have to shoot someone in order to defend herself, or one of the other Stalkers?

Those thoughts ate at her, but as worrying as they were, Ruby knew she ultimately had no choice. Above all else, she was still a Huntress, and that meant she had a duty to help people whenever she could. Nimble needed her help; what kind of Huntress would she be if she abandoned him in his time of need?
Besides, she would just be serving as a lookout. With any luck, it'd be as uneventful as Wolf made it sound.

Slowly, Ruby looked back at Wolf, then nodded.

"Tell me what to do," she said.

A bit later, Ruby and the other six Stalkers strode down the cracked asphalt road to the car park, each of them carrying their weapons in white-knuckled grips. Ruby's Mosin had been loaded and was ready to go, but her hands were shaking so badly and her heart was pounding in her chest so hard that she knew it'd be a disaster if she actually had to use it. She hoped beyond hope that her job was going to be as uneventful as Wolf made it sound, because otherwise…

Well, she didn't even want to consider it.

The seven of them crept through the underbrush, approaching the car park. As they drew closer, Ruby could see men clad in black trenchcoats walking the perimeter in a basic patrol. All of them were carrying guns – Ruby could see that most of them were carrying Mosin rifles similar to hers, but two of them were carrying what appeared to be double-barrel shotguns, and one of them – the leader, judging by the way he was barking orders to the others – was armed with what she thought was a submachine gun, though it was hard to tell. Whatever it was, it had a wooden stock, a long barrel covered in a shroud, and a big drum magazine hanging from the magwell. Aside from the guns, she counted at least six different bandits patrolling the car park.

Seeing it all, Ruby felt a chill go down her spine. Silently, she pleaded for her allies to be safe, and to emerge from the entire thing unharmed.

As they drew closer, Wolf suddenly stuck out his arm, stopping them in their tracks. They all paused, and he turned around to address them.

"Okay," he began. "I want two of you with me – we'll take the front. Two of you go with Drifter and assault the back. When I take out one of the guards, that's your cue to rush in. Be sure you charge in and get to Nimble quickly, otherwise they'll just shoot him." He turned to Ruby, his expression softening. "Head up to the small bridge and set up on the nearby hill. Watch the road, and if anyone starts rushing to the car park, shout to us and let us know. Hopefully, you won't have to shoot anyone."

"Yeah…" Ruby said hesitantly. "Hopefully."

Wolf signaled for the other men to move out, and they did, leaving Ruby there alone. Ruby swallowed the lump in her throat, then crept over to the nearby hill, posting up just to the side of the bridge. She pulled the bolt back on her M44 slightly to make sure there was a round chambered, a chill going down her spine when she saw the steel-cased cartridge staring back at her from inside the rifle's chamber.

"Please don't make me have to use this…" she muttered softly.

No sooner had the words left her mouth than did a gunshot echo across the area, making her jump. Hurriedly, Ruby turned towards the car park, and watched in horror as the firefight began in earnest. She sank down slightly as all the men in black trenchcoats tried to return fire, but were cut down one by one. Panicked, pained screaming joined in with the gunfire to create a cacophony of noise not unlike what she had heard at Beacon just a few days ago. Memories came flooding back to her, and Ruby shuddered involuntarily.

The one saving grace of it all was that the Stalkers from the village seemed to be doing well – she caught occasional glimpses of them in their brown-and-green body armor as they moved throughout the car park. She couldn't see Wolf among them, but the distinctive sound of his Simonov firing every once in awhile was reassuring on its own.

Movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention, and Ruby turned to find three men running down the street, moving towards the car park. She froze, staring at them in horror, her eyes drawn to the weapons they had clutched in their hands – two submachine guns and a Simonov carbine. They weren't dressed in black trenchcoats, instead wearing brown leather jackets. Her grip tightened around her M44, and as the men drew closer, Ruby cleared her throat and looked over to the car park.

"Wolf!" she shouted at the top of her lungs. "You've got three-"

That was as far as she got before a series of rounds ripped through the air just inches above her head. Ruby screamed and threw herself further down the hill, clutching her rifle in desperation. Rounds continued to fly through the air where she had been laying down just a moment before, and she grit her teeth, fear coursing through her veins.

"Wolf!" she called, desperate.

But nobody came. Instead, the gunfire at the car park picked up in intensity – from the sound of things, the two men with submachine guns had broken off and headed into the car park, and were now engaging the other Stalkers, to much greater effect than the earlier bandits had. Meanwhile, the one with the rifle continued to fire rounds towards her spot, trying to keep her suppressed. To her horror, Ruby realized that the noise was steadily drawing closer and closer to her location.

She realized too late. By the time she had broken out of her stupor enough to make a move, the man was upon her. Ruby stared, horrified, as he raised his carbine towards her and pulled the trigger. At the last second, she rolled out of the way; the round nicked her left arm, but didn't penetrate, instead scraping across her arm before burying itself in the dirt just a few centimeters away, showering her with clods of dirt in the process.

Her assailant adjusted his aim and went to pull the trigger again, but got nothing. Perplexed, he turned his attention to his weapon, and Ruby realized she had to make a move. While the bandit hurriedly fiddled with his jammed rifle, Ruby brought her M44 around. Time seemed to move in slow motion as she shouldered her rifle. The bandit looked up from his weapon just in time to see her level her gun at his stomach. His eyes widened, and Ruby pulled the trigger.

She didn't even hear the shot over the sound of blood rushing in her ears. She didn't need to hear it to see that it was effective, though – a spray of blood erupted out of the man's lower back, just to the left side of his spine, and he doubled over in pain, clutching at the entry wound in his stomach. His Simonov slipped from his grasp, landing on the ground next to him. Ruby stared at the man, her eyes wide with disbelief, and she froze, the sheer shock of what she had done keeping her from making another move.

It didn't last. The bandit wasn't dead, despite the ghastly wound in his torso. And faced with no other option, he did the only thing he could do.

He charged.

That was enough to snap Ruby out of her shock. Frantic, she tried to work the bolt on her Mosin to chamber another round, but she wasn't fast enough. She had just managed to pull the bolt back and extract the spent round when the injured man was upon her. He tackled her, bringing her down to the ground; Ruby's rifle was caught between the two of them, and he reached for it, trying to wrench it out of her grasp. Ruby did her best to hold on, but the adult man was far bigger and stronger than she was, and managed to tear it from her grasp with ease. Out of options, Ruby's hand fell to her holstered Nagant revolver; she cleared leather at the same time the bandit pushed the bolt of her own rifle forward, and just as he went to aim the rifle at her, Ruby pulled the Nagant's trigger. She pulled it and didn't stop pulling it, even when the weapon stopped jumping in her grasp and no more bullets ripped through the bandit. Her M44 fell to the ground next to her, and the bandit slumped over on top of her, his chest pockmarked with seven fresh bullet wounds. Ruby struggled underneath the man's weight, but after a few seconds, she managed to roll him off of her.

The dead man came to a rest right next to her, his lifeless eyes opened wide, staring up at the overcast sky. Ruby stared at him, her chest heaving with fear and exertion. Shakily, she brought her free hand up and ran it over her body, checking herself for any injuries, and was relieved when she found just a few minor bruises underneath her leather coat. The relief was fleeting, however, as her gaze soon fell onto the dead man's. She swallowed the lump in her throat, her legs shaking as her eyes roamed over his corpse. There were eight bullet wounds on his front – eight pinpricks scattered across his torso – and one large, fist-sized hole in his lower back, all of them leaking blood. It was everywhere – on the dead man, on the ground, on her… she just about jumped out of her skin when she realized that the warmth she was feeling on her midsection wasn't because of her sweat, but because she was covered in fresh blood.

Footsteps from off to the side caught her attention, and Ruby instantly whirled around, pulling her handgun's trigger in the same motion. The hammer fell on a spent round, the click echoing through the valley, and for a moment, she was afraid that was the end, at least until one of the men spoke.

"It's over," Wolf said gently. He reached out and placed his hand on her revolver's barrel, steadily pushing it down. "It's done, Ruby. We have him."

He motioned behind himself, pointing to where two other Stalkers from the village were supporting a third wounded one, who Ruby recognized as Nimble. Ruby barely even registered what Wolf was saying at first, her mind frantic as it was, but after a few seconds, it clicked, and she exhaled sharply.

"R-right…" she breathed. "Okay…"

With the threat of danger gone and her allies supporting her, that meant it was okay for her to let her guard down. With shaking hands, Ruby went to holster her pistol, but try as she might, she couldn't put the gun away – no matter how many times she made the attempt, her hands were shaking too badly for her to pull it off. She turned her gaze to the ground, her breath catching in her throat as the events of the last few minutes raced through her mind. There was noise, and fire, and so much blood, and…

Wolf seemed to realize what was happening before she did. He reached out again, taking the gun away and putting his hand on her shoulder.

"It's alright," he said. He motioned with his head for the others to leave, and they gave him a quick nod before heading back to the Rookie Village with Nimble in tow. Once they were gone, he turned back to Ruby, watching as her shoulders heaved with silent, dry sobs. When he was sure it was just the two of them, he said only three words to her.

"Let it out."

It was enough. Ruby fell to her knees, clutching at Wolf's jacket like a lifeline as she cried, her sobs echoing through the valley as Wolf held her there, one hand supporting her the entire time.

It was night by the time they made it back to the village. Ruby wasn't sure how long she had cried for – it had been a long time, for sure, but she didn't want to know just how bad it had actually been, both because she didn't want the others to pity her and because she could tell she wasn't quite done yet. The occasional sniffle or quiet sob still broke free from her throat every once in awhile as the thoughts came flooding back to her mind.

She walked in silence, her arms huddled around herself. She was cold in just her sweater, but it was fine – being cold was better than wearing her bloody jacket. Similarly, she wasn't carrying her M44 or her revolver – she didn't want to touch them right now. Instead, Wolf had the Mosin slung over his shoulder opposite the one carrying his Simonov, and he had the grip of her1895 sticking out of his right pocket.

Their pace was slow, and she knew it was because of her, but she didn't care. Every step felt like it was being held back, somehow weighted down by the sheer volume of what she had just done.

She had killed a man today. An evil man, to be sure, but a man nonetheless. It wasn't right – none of it was right; she was a Huntress, someone who was supposed to defend people, and yet she had just killed one. It was self-defense, she knew, but part of her couldn't help but feel like that was how it started.

Wolf had told her early on the being in the Zone changed people. Part of her wondered if the man she had killed had started off like her – one of those wide-eyed idealists, desperate to see the best in people, only to have the world beat him down until he became his own antithesis.

Idly, the cynical part of her mind reminded her that it didn't matter what he had once been – what mattered was what he was now, and what he was now was stone-cold dead. And if she had been just a fraction of a second slower on any of her eight trigger pulls, it could have been her instead.

Somehow, rational as it was, that thought brought her no comfort. Again, her mind went back to that same dark place it was before. First it was clear-cut cases of self-defense, but then they became less clear-cut; more gray rather than black-and-white. Then came the rationalizations, and after that came whatever the dead man had tried to do to her.

"I know what you're thinking," Wolf's voice said from behind her, cutting through the night. "But you can't get caught up in those thoughts, Ruby."

Ruby rounded on him, snarling. "What are you saying?! I just killed someone!"

"You did," Wolf confirmed. "Do you really think he'll be the last?"

His statement stopped Ruby dead in her tracks. She stared at him in wide-eyed shock, but try as she might, she couldn't think of a good response, because she knew he was right. And he wasn't even done yet.

"The Zone is not a good place to be, for anybody," Wolf emphasized. "It changes you – makes you do things you never thought you'd be capable of before, and not in a good way. It beats good people down and turns them evil. It forces good people to do horrible things in order to survive, because if they don't, that's it. I'm sorry about what happened, but if you're going to stay in the Zone – which you have to, at least for right now, because the Military won't let you leave unharmed in a million years – then you're going to have to get used to the idea of pulling the trigger. Because if you don't, then you're a dead woman."

Ruby stared at him in silence. After a few seconds, she lowered her gaze down to the ground.

"...I hate it here," she admitted. "I miss Remnant – home. I miss my friends, and my family, and my dog… I miss all of it. I want to go home, Wolf. I want to go home so bad…"

Another sob escaped her, and tears filled her eyes as she stared at the ground, her shoulders heaving once again. Wolf stepped forwards and put another hand on her shoulder, and for the second time that day, she fell to pieces as the weight of what she'd done came flooding back again.

"How does it feel now?" Bonesaw asked.

Pyrrha put a bit more weight on her leg, wincing a bit when she felt some pain flare up. "Still hurts," she admitted. "But it's getting better. I can at least walk on it now."

"Good," Bonesaw acknowledged. "I think at this point, I can clear you for light activity. Nothing major – just a walk around the base once or twice a day, at least for now. Definitely nothing more intensive than that, though. Not for at least another week."

Pyrrha couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. She'd already spent close to a week bedridden, swapping between two Artifacts to try and fix her wounds. It had gotten monotonous fast; the only thing that had kept her from going insane was that the guys in Freedom stopped by to check on her every once in awhile.

They were good people, if nothing else. She was very grateful to them for helping nurse her back to health, and the instant she was able to, she was going to repay their kindness as best as she could, whether she joined Freedom or not.

"Light activity…" Pyrrha repeated.

Bonesaw nodded. "Yes. Was there something you had in mind?"

"Not much," Pyrrha admitted. "A walk around the base would be nice, just to get to see everyone in their natural habitat. I think some of the guys also wanted to see how I can handle a gun."

"Both of those should be fine," Bonesaw offered. "Just don't push your luck too far – you don't want to aggravate your wounds."

"I understand," Pyrrha said.

Bonesaw put his equipment away and went to stand up. He didn't make it far – Pyrrha rose up behind him, and before he had a chance to leave the room, she wrapped her arms around him from behind, causing him to stop.

"Thank you," Pyrrha said. "For everything."

Bonesaw turned around, giving her a thin smile. "Just doing my job," he said. "I'm glad you're doing better, Pyrrha. Though, I have to ask – have you given any more thought to what you're going to do once you're healed?"

"I have," Pyrrha confirmed. "And… I still don't know if I want to join Freedom. I mean, if there's a way for me to get back home…"

"I understand," Bonesaw told her. "And so will the rest of the guys, disappointed though they may be. Just be sure you repay the debt before you leave, and there'll be no bad blood between you and Lukash."

"Of course," Pyrrha said with a smile. "Thanks again, Bonesaw."

He nodded, and then left her. Pyrrha watched him go before letting out a sigh.

It was true that, above all else, she wanted to return to Remnant. But that was assuming there was a way back in the first place. If there wasn't, then it meant she was stuck here, on Earth, and in that case… well, then it just made sense for her to join Freedom, or so she thought. At the very least, it was a better option than just about every other alternative she could think of.

Pushing those thoughts away for the moment, Pyrrha chanced a step forward. Her foot still hurt, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been; it was clear to her that she could at least walk on it now, even if it left her with a slight limp. She didn't care, though – the pain and discomfort were worth it if it meant she could finally leave the room.

And so she did. She exited the little makeshift hospital room the guys had thrown together for her, and started wandering.

The Freedom headquarters was a large building located towards the back of the Army Warehouses. Apparently, the headquarters were where all the really high-ranking Freedom members stayed; the rank-and-file stayed in the various barracks buildings scattered around. The headquarters also contained a small hospital, a mess hall, and a machine shop for their resident armorer to work.

"Pyrrha."

The voice took her by surprise, and she turned to look down a nearby hall, her expression softening. "Hello, Lukash," she greeted.

Lukash strode over to her, eyeing her with surprise. "You're finally walking," he observed.

"That I am," Pyrrha said proudly. "I have all of you to thank for that. And I promise you that the instant Bonesaw gives me a clean bill of health, I'm going to work to repay you all for your kindness and hospitality."

"Hm. I always knew you had a good head on your shoulders," Lukash complimented. "Though I take it you still haven't made a decision yet?"

"Ah… no, not yet," she admitted.

"That's fine. Obviously, we'd like to have you, but we'll understand if you decide otherwise."

"Bonesaw told me the same thing," she added. "Though he also advised me to pay off the debt before trying to leave."

"Somehow, I don't think we'll have to worry about you paying it off," Lukash complimented. "But if you're so insistent that you get started, then you should come with me. I'll introduce you to your squadmates."

Pyrrha blinked, surprised. "You're putting me in with a squad?"

"Of course," Lukash asnwered. "I wouldn't send a rookie out into the Zone without supervision – someone has to teach you how things work around here, after all. Especially if you're going to be working for us. What, did you think we would just heal you and then send you off to die?"

"No, no," Pyrrha quickly replied. "I just… wasn't expecting to be put into a group so quickly. Though I do like the idea – I'm used to working in a team, anyway."

"Good," Lukash said. He motioned for her to follow him.

Together, the two of them marched through the Army Warehouses, Lukash deliberately slowing his pace so Pyrrha could keep up with him. As they walked, Pyrrha looked around, taking in everything for the first time. The first thing that came to mind was that the name of the area was certainly accurate enough – 'Army Warehouses' was exactly how she'd describe everything she saw; drab, faded green-painted, steel buildings lined the area, arranged in rows. Old vehicles were parked along the dilapidated, cracked roads, some of which had been overturned some time ago and left to rust; it was clear that none of them worked anymore.

Lukash led her to a small space between some of the barracks, where various Freedom members were gathered, talking amongst themselves in Russian and Ukrainian. All of them stood up straighter when they saw Lukash approach.

"Relax," Lukash said. "I'm just here to introduce Pyrrha to her new squad members." He motioned to two particular members in turn. "Rat, Swift, she'll be in your care."

Pyrrha watched as two Freedom members – fully clad in that same green-and-yellow body armor all the experienced Freedom members wore – broke from the group and approached her. The one Lukash had identified as Rat was the bigger of the two, standing a few inches taller than her. In addition to his body armor, he was wearing one of those creepy-looking, bug-eyed gas masks that she occasionally saw some of the other members carrying. A rifle was slung over his shoulder, though it wasn't one she recognized – it wasn't one of the usual rifles Freedom members tended to carry; most of them preferred similar-looking black rifles made up of equal parts aluminum and polymer, which she recalled had been referred to as M16s, but Rat was carrying something that was much bigger and had a wooden stock. From what she could tell just by looking at the magazine, it was also chambered in a bigger caliber than the usual M16 that the Freedom members preferred. It honestly looked very similar to her old weapon in its rifle configuration, which was certainly odd to think about. In any case, whatever weapon it was, he had topped it with a scope mount and an optic of some kind.

Swift, meanwhile, lived up to his name based purely on appearance. He was a few inches shorter than her, and he was thin – he reminded her a lot of Ren, if he was short. Unlike Rat, Swift had chosen to forgo a gas mask in favor of a simple green balaclava. He also wasn't carrying an M16; rather, he was carrying something that looked very similar, but had a barrel that was a few inches shorter. Similar to Rat, his rifle was topped with an optic, though his just looked like a simple red dot.

"You want us to take care of her?" Rat asked, his voice coming out with an even heavier accent than Pyrrha was used to.

Lukash nodded. "I do. Once she's fit for duty, I want you both to show her the ropes. Then I want you to help her with paying off her debt."

"Anything particular in mind?" Swift asked, in a somewhat high-pitched voice that Pyrrha somehow expected he'd have.

"Anything that'd be useful, really," Lukash answered. "There's no shortage of stuff to do around here. Put her to work until the debt's been paid off, and help her out with whatever she needs. And don't do anything too dangerous right from the start – the last thing I need you two doing is sending her off to hunt Snorks when she's still new to the Zone."

Rat raised his hands in surrender. "You don't have to worry about that, boss," he assured. "We'll be responsible."

"I'd hope so," Lukash grunted. "If I wanted someone irresponsible, I'd have set her up with Ashot and Yar."

"What did we do this time?" Ashot asked, stepping out from inside one of the barracks. Pyrrha noticed that he was carrying – of all things – a plate of freshly-made brownies. The scent of chocolate made her mouth water… though she was quick to note that there was also some other scent there – something she couldn't quite recognize. Still, the idea of chocolate after several days of eating nothing but surplus military rations was tempting – tempting enough that when Ashot pushed the tray of sweets over to her, she almost took one before Lukash gently pushed her hand away.

"Don't eat those," he warned. "Those are, shall we say, for adults only."

"I'm seventeen," Pyrrha emphasized.

"Yeah, well, let's just say they have an extra ingredient, and it's probably not a good idea for you to chow down on them when you're still not in good shape." Lukash glowered at Ashot. "And why are you wasting time baking when there's stuff to do?"

"Aw, come on, boss," Ashot argued. "I already did everything you asked me to do today."

"Did you fix the radio yet?"

"No, because we don't have the parts for it. What am I supposed to do, head down to the Bar and get them?"

"We're in the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone," one of the other Freedom guys pointed out. "There's probably tons of radio parts scattered all around this place."

"Great, then you wouldn't mind looking for them, then," Ashot retorted.

"Hey, boss?" Swift asked. "I think we might have just found Pyrrha's first job."

"I agree," Lukash said. He turned towards her. "That is, if she's okay with it."

"I'm more than okay with it," Pyrrha stated. "As soon as Doc clears me for more intensive stuff, I'd be happy to help look for radio parts."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Lukash chastised. "You still need to be outfitted properly. Swift, Rat, take her to see Skinflint. I'm sure he's got something lying around that she can use."

"Ah, this is the new arrival, then?" the man the counter asked as the three of them stepped into the building.

"Skinflint," Rat greeted. "Lukash wants you to outfit her."

Skinflint brought a hand up to his chin. He leaned in to examine her a bit closer. Pyrrha blinked as she stared at him, close enough to take in every detail of his mustache and glasses. After a few seconds, he pulled back, then turned and began to rummage through some of the boxes he had stacked up next to him.

"Damn it, where did I put that stuff…?" he muttered.

"Looking for something in particular?" Swift questioned.

"Well, I figured that she's not a part of Freedom, so she shouldn't get one of the Sunrise Suits," Skinflint answered without looking back. "Last thing she needs is Duty mistaking her for one of us and taking shots at her, and the last thing we need is to give away a perfectly fine Sunrise Suit to someone who isn't even one of us yet. But I think I might have just the thing."

After a bit more searching, Skinflint reached into one of the boxes and came back with a vest of some kind.

"I knew we had some of these old things still lying around," Skinflint commented.

"What is it?" Pyrrha couldn't help but ask.

"This is American body armor," came the response. "I believe they call it the Interceptor vest. Bit of an older piece of kit – the Americans are in the process of replacing it. They're pretty easy to acquire at the moment, but we haven't really had a reason to get a whole lot of them since Sunrise Suits are just better here in the Zone, since they're so much more modular and help deal with Anomalies. But like I said, we can't give you a Sunrise Suit, so this will have to do."

He offered the vest to Pyrrha, and she accepted it, turning it over in her hands. It was heavy – almost twenty pounds, if she had to wager a guess – but admittedly, since its job was to stop her from taking a bullet, that was reassuring.

"That thing's got ceramic SAPI plates in it," Skinflint reported. "It will stop a full metal jacket 147-grain 7.62x51 millimeter NATO projectile, and anything below it. Still quite painful, however. But generally speaking, you should live so long as you're not getting shot at by Duty, Mercenaries, or Monolith – they tend to carry more powerful weapons and ammo than the vest can deal with."

"You're just giving this to me?" Pyrrha asked, surprised.

"Free of charge," Skinflint promised. "And that's not the only thing."

"W-wait!" Pyrrha protested. "Don't you need this stuff for actual Freedom members? Is it really okay for me to just take it?"

"Believe me, the stuff I'm giving you, I couldn't give away to anyone else," Skinflint said. "That's not to say it's bad, just outdated and obsolescent compared to the usual stuff the recruits want. After all, who would take an Interceptor over a Sunrise Suit, if they had the option? Who would take a Browning Hi-Power over a Beretta M9, or a SIG P226? Oh, speaking of."

Pyrrha flinched when Skinflint reached under the counter and produced a pistol. It was an old pistol by the looks of things – the grips were made of cracked polymer, and it was covered in a thin layer of dust. He locked the slide back, showed her that the gun was empty, and then offered it to her.

"Your sidearm," he reported. "It's a Browning Hi-Power. Don't let the name fool you – it's no more high-powered than any other nine-millimeter service pistol out there. It's a nice gun, just outdated."

"How so?" Pyrrha asked, accepting the weapon and looking it over.

"It's a single-action pistol with a manual safety," Swift reported. "Most of the other pistols you see issued to new Freedom members are double-action to single-action, with a decocker instead of a safety. That way you can carry them with a round in the chamber, and when you need to use the pistol, you just pull it out and deal with a long trigger pull on the first shot instead of having to disengage a manual safety."

"That's not what the experienced guys carry, though," Rat added. "Most of the veteran Freedom members prefer Glock pistols, assuming they aren't sourcing their own unique weapons and ammo. Glocks don't have a traditional manual safety, they're striker-fired and have a safety mounted on the trigger. So they won't go off if they're dropped, but once that trigger is pulled and the safety is deactivated, it will go off."

"Yeah, that thing right there is old as hell," Skinflint said, motioning to the Browning. "But it fires the same nine-millimeter bullet that the Beretta or the Sig does, so it'll kill you just as easily as the other two will. Just remember to put the safety on before you stick it in the holster, and also to disengage the safety when you pull it out to shoot it."

Pyrrha nodded in understanding. "Thank you."

"Wait, we're not done yet," Skinflint said. "Wait here."

He disappeared into the back room. Pyrrha heard him rummaging around for a few minutes, swearing to himself the entire time. Finally, he gave a triumphant cry, and then exited the room, carrying a rifle with him.

"For you," he said, offering her the new gun.

Pyrrha stared at it in disbelief. "I can't just-"

"Stop," Skinflint said. "Just take the gun. Nobody is going to use this one, not even the rookies. Nobody is going to miss it, and you need a long gun."

Pyrrha hesitated, but ultimately relented. She tucked the Interceptor vest under her arm, then reached out to accept the gun, eyeing it up and down as she took possession of it.

"It's an AR-18," Skinflint explained. "They used to be fairly common in Ireland a few years back, during the Troubles; the Irish Republican Army acquired a bunch of them and they saw use for a number of years before the violence died down. Most of the AR-18s that weren't confiscated, lost, or destroyed have ended up on the European black market since then, and eventually made their way here. We used them a lot during the early days of the Zone, but now that we have better guns, we don't really have a reason to use them anymore. Pretty much all of the AR-18s we had have been replaced by M16 and M4 variants, now. We've only got a few of those 18s still sitting around, taking up space and collecting dust."

"And you're sure I can just take it, free of charge?" Pyrrha asked, uncertain.

"Yeah, it's fine," Skinflint said, waving his hand dismissively. "Here, I've got some spare mags for you, too. This thing takes its own magazines, unfortunately – they only hold twenty rounds, and they don't interchange with the M16s and M4s we use. You can modify M16 magazines to fit if you take a dremel to them, but that's a waste of a perfectly good M16 magazine, if you ask me."

Skinflint offered her a small stack of five magazines, which appeared to already be loaded, if the brief glint of brass she could see in each of them was any indication. Pyrrha stared at them, her hands already full, but thankfully Rat took them for her.

"Thank you, Skinflint," Pyrrha said appreciatively.

Skinflint waved her off. "Of course, it probably goes without saying, but anything else is gonna cost you, I'm afraid. Try not to use all your ammo in one place, yeah?"

"We'll keep an eye on it for her," Swift offered.

Pyrrha waved him goodbye, then went to walk away, only to wince and let out a small grunt of pain when she put weight on her injured foot.

"I'm fine," she said through gritted teeth as Rat placed a hand on her shoulder to support her. "Just… I think that's as much as my foot can handle right now."

"We'll take you back to your room," Rat offered. "Get some rest. Once you feel better, we'll start showing you the ropes."

Pyrrha nodded, and together with her two new squadmates, made her way back to her makeshift hospital room.

Back from my brief vacation. Had a great time seeing my old friends again, but man, I was getting really antsy to write over the past few days. Sat down and pumped out a few thousand words for this story in a pretty good amount of time; the ideas were just flowing for this one.

Still no Jaune or Cinder, but that's going to happen next chapter, I promise. I wanted to include them here, but that segment would have made the chapter way too long, and I honestly think it fits better when it's placed in the next chapter. Sorry to keep you all waiting like this, but I really don't want to consistently find myself stuck writing 10k+ word chapters anymore, because that's just too much to handle. I'm trying to keep the chapters for this story around the 7k-8k word mark since that's so much easier to manage; sometimes it'll creep beyond that, but for the most part, that's where I'm comfortable keeping it for now.

Anyway, Ruby's officially iced her first Bandit. Of course, we all knew it was going to happen eventually, so I figured I might as well start that whole process early, just for simplicity's sake. Ruby and Pyrrha are kinda the tutorial characters, if that makes sense – their purpose right now is to serve as an introduction to the world of STALKER for people who might not be familiar with it, and also to establish the general tone of the story. I will not be doing the same thing with Jaune and Cinder, because I don't think it's necessary; Cinder obviously wouldn't give a shit if she straight-up murdered somebody, and Jaune strikes me as someone who's pragmatic enough to realize when it's kill or be killed. Not to say it won't effect him, but he won't be nearly as much of a wreck about it as Ruby is.

Also, guns. This is something I like to think I know a bit about (I own my own fair share of them, and in fact, I took my friends out to the range this week when they visited – we shot my CZ457, my M1 Garand, my FAL, and my Benelli M4; it was a lot of fun), which is nice because it means I get to flex a bit, and also because it's STALKER, some of the most common mods for these games involve gratuitous amounts of gun porn; I figure a not-insignificant portion of the people reading the story are on the same wavelength as me because of that, so consider this me throwing a bone to them as well, I suppose. Feel free to call me out if I'm ever inaccurate with something regarding weapons; I obviously don't own every single gun that's going to appear in this story, so a lot of my info is secondhand. I'm going to do my best, but if mistakes are made, please feel free to correct them.

Anyway, that's about what I've got. It's good to be back after a week off. I'll be steadily updating some more of my stories soon too, but I figured I'd get this one out ASAP since I know a lot of you really wanted to see it sooner rather than later. Hope you all enjoyed, and I'll see you next time!