Lost to the Zone
CHAPTER 1: ДІМ (Home)
28 June 2156, 11:36
Mustafa, Japan
Most would think that a return to one's home would be a relatively peaceful and joyful affair, where the family would be present to welcome the individual.
Unfortunately, this is not always the case, especially not for the young man thrown out of the distortion in the sky, whereupon he was greeted not by the embrace of loved ones, but by the heavy impact of a fist to the face accompanied by a "Surrender villain!" courtesy of Mt. Lady. The young man's flight path now drastically different, he slammed into the brick wall of a nearby apartment building, crumpling to the ground unconscious. Quickly he was surrounded and pinned by the other heroes that had previously barricaded the area around the distortion. The crowd cheered as Mt. Lady posed for the cameras, relishing in her victory over the supposed villain.
Hell of a welcome home…
The first waking breath of air, as he came to, indicated that he was someplace sheltered, tasting sterile, controlled, and lacking that distinct hum and heaviness he had grown so accustomed to in three years of hell.
Izuku dared not open his eyes yet. While his sealed helmet and mask were still on his head, he was going to avoid risking any indication of him being awake. He still had no clue where he was and it would be best to gather some information. So he maintained his breathing to a rhythm similar to sleep as he began a mental scan of his body.
The aching of his head was likely due to whatever the hell it was that knocked him into yesterday. He made a mental note to scour the ends of the earth to find out what hit him and smack it with his frying pan.
Continuing down his body, he was glad to feel that his ribs were just bruised, as cracked or broken ribs suck and would get in the way. Internally though, he frowned, feeling metal restraints on his wrists. Cuffs. Well that explains the static feedback he was getting from the nerves in his arms. He'd have to actually look at them to determine how difficult it'd be to get out of them.
Moving on, he noted that his Heart of the Oasis artifact had taken care of the broken femur and Chimera bite he sustained during his fight to get to the anomaly. Good. Wonderful even! That meant that if he had to escape, he'd have no trouble sneaking or running around. The familiar weight of his boots indicated that he wasn't properly stripped of all his gear, so he was able to stay armed, even if it was just the Monolith blade hidden in his boot. It wouldn't be the first time the knife was all he had to defend himself.
Izuku strained his ears, noting the faint sounds of electronic beeps outside the room, distant conversations, and– wait… was that the sound of birdsong outside?
Izuku paused in disbelief. He listened again and for sure he heard birdsong once more.
This could not be. There was no way. The only birds that survived in the Zone were the tenacious mutated crows, not these fragile little songbirds that were singing outside what was likely a window that still had its glass completely intact.
There was no way… could it be?
Impatient now with the uncertainty, Izuku opened his eyes and his mind went blank.
A hospital room. A clean, functional, fully equipped hospital room.
Izuku's mind raced but he could not latch onto a single fleeting thought as he heard a click, saw the door begin to open, and he spoke with trepidation.
"Где я, черт возьми?"
Tsukauchi Naomasa has dealt with many strange cases thus far as a detective.
But today? Well it's certainly up there.
The spatial distortion that appeared in the residential area had been odd enough but easily discounted as the effects of a quirk. But whenever anyone attempted to approach the area surrounding it, they would immediately find themselves thrown away by some force. This alone was enough to warrant a hero response as it likely could have been a villain trying to cause trouble for some fun. It wasn't until the sudden appearance of a heavily armored individual that Mt. Lady had taken it upon herself to consider it as a full blown villain attack and incapacitated them as quickly as possible to avoid any extensive contact in the highly populated area. The suspicion of this person's involvement was only furthered by the distortion vanishing with a gust of wind upon incapacitation, the copious amount of blood found splattered on their armor, and the fact they were armed with a rifle and handgun, both of which were taken as evidence along with their backpack.
A previous incident with a criminal who had booby trapped his own equipment had taught the law enforcing body that it was best to wait for the subject to be conscious and compliant before attempting any further equipment removal and booking.
Checking his watch, Tsukauchi sighed, seeing that an hour has passed since they brought the suspect into the hospital given their injured state. He got up from the plastic armchair and made his way to the suspect's room, figuring now would be as good a time as any to check to see if they were awake, turning on the audio recorder in his pocket. Nodding to the officers posted outside, he grabbed the handle and stepped in.
"Где я, черт возьми?"
Tsukauchi jumped slightly, not sure he heard that correctly. His eyes locked onto the man cuffed to the reinforced hospital bed. What did he just say?
Tsukauchi cleared his throat. "Sorry, what was that? I don't think I caught what you said."
The man tilted his helmeted head, the reflective green glass of the mask unnerving the detective.
"Де я? Хто ти? Яка ваша приналежність?"
Tsukauchi was… confused. Was that Russian? This might be a problem if the man couldn't speak Japanese, getting a translator would be a pain, particularly a Russian speaking one.
"Do you speak Japanese? Where are you from?" The detective needed to know, because if the police had to get an embassy involved, things would just get even more complicated and suck up even more precious hours of blissful sleep.
The suspect was silent, seemingly scanning the detective from head to toe. The intense attention filled the detective with an unusual sense of unease, he felt as though his worth was being evaluated by an apex predator. The mask suddenly seemed all the more like the visage of an alien hunter. Tsukauchi gulped as he felt a shiver go down his spine and was prepared to step back out of the room when the man sat up and spoke.
"You… Japanese?" The man rasped in near perfect Japanese. "Where am I? Who… you? You… egghead?"
Tsukauchi was surprised. So the man did speak Japanese, but what did he mean by egghead? He steeled himself, regaining his composure and falling back into the familiarity of professionalism.
"Yes I'm Japanese. I am Detective Tsukauchi, you've been detained and brought to the Mustafu Municipal Hospital to be examined for any potential injuries." He paused, "What do you mean by 'Egghead'?"
The man was still, but Tsukauchi could vaguely hear muffled mumbling behind that mask. The man shifted, almost anxiously.
"What year is it? Am I in Japan?" The armored man asked, barely audible.
The detective frowned. "What year is it? It's 2156. Yes, you are in Japan." He wondered for a brief moment if the man may have hit that wall harder than he may have been able to handle. That brief moment of concern only grew when the man began to laugh loudly, almost deranged and manic.
The man laughed for only half a minute, but it felt like an eternity. The man looked around frantically, seeming to take in every detail of the room in those fleeting glances.
"Home?! I'm home! Мама, я дома! Блад! Mom! Oh god she's been alone this whole time! I have to go see her!"
Tsukauchi, figuring the man was about to try something reckless, stepped forward and held his hands up in an attempt to calm the man down.
"Woah, now hold on. You are under police custody. You aren't going anywhere and I need to know what's going on. So let's start over. Who are you?"
The man looked ready to put up a fight but seemingly resigned himself to the interrogation, allowing himself to fall back onto the pillow of the bed.
Sighing, he spoke. "I'm Peac- er, Izuku. Midoriya Izuku."
True
The detective's quirk pinged. That name sounded familiar to the detective but the fact it was clearly Japanese was what truly caught his attention.
"You're Japanese?"
"Yes, I'm from Mustafu. It's… it's been so long since I've been here, since I last spoke my native tongue." Midoriya explained, rolling his head to look at the detective directly.
True
Once more the detective's quirk pinged. So Midoriya hadn't been in Japan for a while then, but if the distortion spat him out here, assuming it was the man's quirk, why was he so confused he was here? What did that have to do with how he was armed or speaking Russian? Tsukauchi knew he needed to start getting to the bottom of this man's intentions, he will smooth out the finer details later.
Clearing his throat, Tsukauchi took the dive. "Where were you before? Did it have anything to do with why you look like you came off a battlefield?"
Midoriya was silent.
Half a minute passed before the detective chose to extend an olive branch of sorts.
"Please, I only wish to know what your intentions are here. Did you cause that distortion to appear in the shopping district?"
"No." Midoriya answered curtly.
True
Tsukauchi's quirk affirmed.
"No, I would never unleash such an abnormality of reality on the innocent."
True
"Honestly, everyone is lucky that the Space Bubble had a bunch of Springboards around it, anything like a Whirligig or Vortex and you'd have to clean up giblets across the entire prefecture. Word of advice for the future: if you ever see some kind of distortion, see leaves moving in a vortex, or hear wind gusting when there is no wind, stay away." Midoriya chuckled harshly, shifting his head to look at the ceiling.
"Блад… I just can't catch a break huh? Let me tell you this right now, because while I can definitely get out of these cuffs myself, I want you to trust me: I am no threat to the general public. I have no ill intentions, and while I only wish to go home and see my mother for the first time in three years, I still have a duty to fulfill as a Clear Sky officer. Those distortions? No quirk made them. In some sense they are man made, in another, paranormal. For three years, I fought in a hellscape to keep it from growing, but now its reaching beyond time and space and I can't allow that to happen. I only wish it wasn't here."
True
Tsukauchi's quirk never failed but this man wasn't making any sense. Space Bubble? Vortex? Clear Sky? Supernatural? Hellscape? What did any of this even mean?
"Hold on." Tsukauchi held a hand up as he used his other to rub the bridge of his nose. Damn this whole case was already giving him a bitch of a headache. "Slow down, I believe you, but what are you saying? I need you to make some sense."
"Fine," Midoriya sighed, "but get me out of these cuffs first. My arms feel like I got shocked by an Electro and I'd like to stretch them out a bit if I am going to be giving you the short of it."
Detective Tsukauchi thought it out for a second before walking over to the bed, pulling a key out of his trench coat.
"Alright, just remember that there are officers outside the room and heroes nearby should anything happen." Tsukauchi warned as he unlocked the handcuffs.
"Heh," Midoriya chuckled dryly, "I've faced worse odds."
Midoriya sat up, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed while rubbing his wrists to get some feeling back into them.
"Хорошо, I hate cuffs." Midoriya got off the bed and began shaking out his arms, standing to his full height of 6'1". "Right, so where to start?"
"Where were you before this?" Tsukauchi prodded.
"Ah right… There…" Midoriya was quiet for a moment. "The easy answer I can give you is the Chornobyl Exclusion Zone, but in all honesty it was far more than that."
Midoriya reached up to his helmet and undid the straps, quickly taking it off and throwing it onto the bed along with his Peltor earpro headset. He then undid all but one set of the straps on his sealed mask and let it hang from his neck. Running a hand through his long green hair, Midoriya turned and let the detective see his face. Large tired green eyes, a strong jaw marked with stubble, and a jagged angry scar that curved from the bridge of his nose, down his left cheek, and disappeared behind his neck gaiter. Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa knew this face, had seen this face, yet could not place where.
"To be exact I was in Chornobyl, pulled there by a literal monument of human madness and its groupies, to the year 2018, and it was hell. I was just 16, just making my way home from school, running from some holier than thou shithead and his cronies when I ran right into a Space Bubble and found myself suddenly surrounded by some fanatics in urban camouflage swaying like junkies and praying to a heap of trash. At 16 I was suddenly forced to fight, to kill, for my own survival." Scratching his chin, he looked out the window at the busy streets below. "A quirkless kid thrust into the most dangerous place in the world, while all I wanted to do was eat some katsudon with my mother and watch some hero news. How fucked do you think I am if I wake up in a cold sweat every night because I can still see those guys' faces, still feel the pain, still hear its voice?"
Wait, quirkless? Tsukauchi faltered as his brain latched onto that.
Meanwhile, Midoriya frantically checked his pockets before swearing and only pulling out a beaten up and oxidized bronze trench lighter. Turning to Tsukauchi, he gave a sheepish look.
"You got a dart I can bum off you? I think I lost my pack of Marlboros somewhere along the way. Cigs aren't cheap in The Zone, let me tell you."
Quirkless 16 year old teen, Midoriya Izuku, missing two years ago, disappeared on the way home and was last seen running into an alleyway by classmate Bakugo Katsuki. Tsukauchi's head snapped to look directly at Midoriya as it finally clicked. The boy now turned man, dressed in a striking blue and white tiger stripe camo parka, a green flecktarn neck gaiter, green armored rig, and green cargo pants adorned by a pair of empty pistol holsters, pouches, and kneepads. Scarred, aged, and battle hardened, the missing quirkless child was here.
"You're Midoriya Izuku…" Tsukauchi whispered in shock.
Seconds of awkward silence passed.
"So should I just bum one off an officer or…"
Two long years had passed since Midoriya Inko last saw her beloved son, Izuku. While the authorities were quick to rule him as another victim of this cruel world, Inko refused to give up hope that her child was still out there somewhere.
Each day without Izuku only fueled Inko's grief and determination. She plastered the neighborhood with missing posters, enlisting the help of other Quirkless individuals and good Samaritans in her search. Over time, her efforts blossomed into a full organization dedicated to protecting the vulnerable Quirkless community.
Though they succeeded in finding many who went missing, beaten down by society's harsh shadow, Izuku remained elusive. With each passing day, Inko's hope grew dimmer. She feared the day her search might lead somewhere far darker - when her sweet, defenseless son could be the one case too terrible to uncover.
Inko threw herself into helping others, if only to distract from her own anguish. Two years of tireless searching, and still no sign of Izuku. She began to accept he may be truly lost to her.
And then, one fateful day, Inko received a call from the police.
28 June 2156, 17:50
Mustafu Municipal Hospital Rooftop, Japan
Birds singing, airplanes crossing the sky overhead, the hustle and bustle of traffic and pedestrians below, even the occasional distant cries for a villain to surrender- these were all sounds that Izuku had not heard in three years.
Three agonizingly long years in a nuclear wasteland that Izuku had learned fear and respect, love and hate. For as much death and decay the Zone contained, there was also life and growth.
The one constant was that the Zone giveth, just as much as it taketh. To lose one's life in the Zone, meant you were not simply dead. You were lost to the Zone. You become one with the Zone, no matter the circumstances. From the moment you set foot in the Zone, your mind and soul were tied to it. You can not escape the Zone, not even in your dreams.
Looking out at the city from the hospital rooftop, Izuku wonders how long it may be before the Zone calls back to him, if it can even follow him now that he is back home. Given that it had plucked him from this reality, and in turn spat him back into it, he only thinks it would be a matter of when, not if. Pulling his long hair back into a ponytail, Izuku chooses to just enjoy whatever reprieve he can get. It's only a matter of time before he will begin to feel the buzz of the fractured Noosphere once more.
Behind him, the door to the rooftop swung open as the detective walked through the doorway, clearly straining to hold the large green backpack in his hands. The detective only managed a few more steps before dropping the bag on the ground.
"Buddha! Why the hell is your backpack so damn heavy?" Naomasa gasped from his hunched position, hands on his knees as he struggled to catch his breath. "I had to carry it from the squad car, to the east wing elevator, take the east wing elevator to the third floor, walk across the overpass to the west wing, and then up four more flights of stairs!"
Turning, Izuku raised an eyebrow at the detective. "You know, you could have just extended the handle and fold up the wheel covers just to roll it around." He explained, lazily pointing at the large bag.
"Wha- really?!"
"Nah, I'm just fucking with you."
"Kid, you are going to be the reason I drink tonight"
Izuku chortled mirthlessly. "With the shit I'll be giving you? Might want to start attending AA meetings ahead of time, because Zone knows it only took me two months of living it to become an alcoholic."
Tsukauchi's expression grew somber. "Was it really that bad?"
Izuku strolled over to the backpack. "Hold that thought, would you? I'm all for serious conversations on a rooftop, but up until about eight hours ago, I literally fought for hours, got pulled through a Space Bubble, had the Japanese knocked right back into me, suffered a minor breakdown, and I've not had any proper sleep in a week. Let me take a seat." Opening a zipper on the underside of the backpack, he pulled out two mini folding stools. With a flick of his wrist, one opened up and was promptly handed to the detective. Opening the second stool, he plopped down with a sigh and proceeded to rummage through his bag some more. Tsukauchi only eyed Izuku with curiosity as he cautiously took a seat on the admittedly tiny stool.
"Sorry 'bout the little stools, they're my emergency set. I have two better regular sized folding stools but the case for them is a pain to deal with. Plus I stuffed them at the bottom of my bag when I was in a hurry yesterday, and I'm not going to pull out half my hideout just for some better comfort. Ah! Here we go! I knew I had an extra pack in here somewhere."
Izuku presented his prize to the detective, a sealed pack of Marlboro Menthols, with a grin. He began to rip the plastic off with haste. "You know, I normally don't smoke these, they're rarely sold by the traders, super expensive, and for some reason the only menthol cigarettes that do show up are Marlboros. Whatever, I just want to savor being back."
Izuku held the cigarette in his lips and lit it with his trench lighter. "I expect you've given my mom a call, right? Betting she's rushing to get here faster than what may be legally allowed." Izuku said with a puff of the cigarette.
Tsukauchi waved the smoke away and scooted his stool back a bit to be out of range of any more incoming smoke. "Um, yes, we called her but I believe she had fainted at one point for a short time before coming to and giving a rushed thanks."
Izuku snorted, smoke blowing from his nostrils. "Yeah, that's about what I expect of mom." Looking at his watch he hummed. "Alright, well I give us about 10 minutes before she arrives. Ask away Poirot."
Tsukauchi took a second to deliberate his first question. "Why did you ask what year it was? I know you mentioned somehow ending up in 2018, but why was the year so important to you?"
Izuku leaned back, enjoying the buzz of nicotine, and answered. "Well, the Zone does funny shit to time. I've heard of stalkers walking between a pair of trees and returning to base to find out they've been gone for months when an hour's only passed for them. I've also heard of stalkers getting caught in a Space Loop anomaly, finding their way out, and realizing that mere minutes have passed in reality despite spending days lost in a mirror dimension."
Izuku took a long drag of his cigarette. "I was especially curious because for me, I was in the Zone for 3 years, 2 months, and 10 days. But here? It's been 2 years. I'm 19 now, detective, and it pisses me off to say that the best birthday I've had during those three years was when a fellow stalker gave me some explosive rounds for my rifle that they found on some dead Duty soldier. We made a crispy as hell cookie with soggy stale bread and a mostly eaten chocolate protein bar, which we mushed up and stuck into Burner anomaly. It was fucking awful, but it was also the best thing I had in my 3 years there."
Tsukauchi eyed the man in front of him, the long hair and stubble showed Izuku's age, but the scar and weariness conveyed with each drag of the cigarette convinced the detective that Izuku had experienced more than most should in three years. Just what was this place like for a boy to look like a hardened war veteran?
"What exactly is the Zone? The way you've talked about it makes it seem like it was something more than the Chornobyl Exclusion Zone we know." The detective asked, leaning forward in his stool. "What did you experience that requires you to wear combat gear and be heavily armed with century old equipment?"
Izuku grinned. "Ha, now if that isn't a loaded question." He looked at his cigarette with a distant gaze. "The Zone… The Zone is a living thing I guess you can say, well at least that's what those of us in Clear Sky, as well as some Freedom members, believe. It's not some creature or person in control, it's almost like a consciousness with influence over a 30km radius from the Chornobyl Power Plant. Some of the eggheads think it's in its infant or toddler stage, acting on similar whims, tantrums being deadly storms capable of zombifying stalkers caught outside and changing landscapes, and good days bringing a sense of calm over everything. The Zone is a mysterious entity. Not much is known about how it works but it is known that it came into existence in 2006 when some scientists working in Chornobyl had an experiment go tits up and suddenly animals are getting horribly mutated, a whole town gets dusted, people are getting zombified, test subjects from a Soviet era super soldier program escape, and tears in reality capable of killing a person hundreds of different ways start cropping up everywhere. All this danger would make you think people would want to stay away, right? Nope, because people start pouring in for different reasons. Criminals on the run begin to hide out in the Zone, outcasts band together there, explorers and adventurers see it as the journey of a lifetime, trophy collectors go venture in to collect pelts and mutant parts, people go on pilgrimages through the Zone thinking they can find themselves or be enlightened, some begin to worship the Zone as some kind of deity…" Izuku pauses and takes a really long pull from his cigarette, his hand shaking a little, and blows the smoke out dreadfully slow before continuing, "And soon… soon a rumor starts to go around about some kind of thing in the center of the Zone within the Sarcophagus that can grant any wish you have. At a price. What that price may be, none know. What is known is that the Wish Granter can call people to it. This has led to some people looking for it or worshiping it thinking it's some benevolent divinity. I don't think it is though. I've seen it, I've heard it's call. And I can tell you, there is nothing divine or benevolent about that thing."
Izuku stood up and walked over to the rooftop railing, simply looking out over lively streets. "There is nothing good, nothing heroic, nothing human about that fucking thing." He turned around to face Tsukauchi, the fingers holding his cigarette tapping on a canteen fastened to his belt before returning to his lips for another drag. "Sorry, can we talk about something else?" Izuku asked with a shuddering breath.
Tsukauchi nodded. "You keep saying stalkers, what does that term mean?"
"Stalker is the Ukrainian government's official term for any person illegally residing in the Zone of Alienation." Izuku tapped the cigarette, ash falling to the floor. "There is no clear reason for exactly why the government chose the term stalker, but western media love to say it's an acronym for Scavengers, Trespassers, Adventurers, Loners, Killers, Explorers, and Robbers. It's a load of bullshit. In either Russian or Ukrainian that acronym makes zero sense and I think it's just a western means of drumming up support in some asinine way to get access to the Zone."
Tsukauchi made a note in the notepad he pulled from his trench coat. "Earlier you asked if I was an egghead. What did you mean by that?"
"Oh yeah, that. Basically I just was wondering if you were a researcher or doctor sent into the Zone by the government. My head was still a bit fuzzy so I didn't get a good enough look at you when I was asking."
"There were some other phrases you kept mentioning: Clear Sky, Duty, Freedom. What are they exactly?"
"In short, they're factions, but the history behind them is pretty detailed and, well…" Izuku scratched his chin.
"Well, there's just so much to discuss about what I've done and seen, I highly doubt we'll touch on all of it." Izuku reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a rugged looking device along with a memory stick. He fiddled with the device for a bit before ejecting the memory stick. "Here you go detective," he said, handing over the memory stick, "I've copied over the Stalker encyclopedia and my diary entries for you to read through. Normally I'm not so trusting but my gut has never failed me and it's telling me to trust you." Tsukauchi nodded, taking the memory stick and placing it into the inside pocket of his trench coat.
Down below, the squealing of tires tore through the air as a car abruptly came to a stop outside the west wing hospital entrance. Looking over the edge of the roof's railings, Izuku smiled softly as a woman with green hair stepped out of the vehicle looking harried and determined.
Izuku put out his cigarette. "Detective, sorry about this but can you put the stools back in their pocket and bring my bag down? Cool, see ya in a bit!" With that, Izuku flung himself over the railings, leaving behind a very flustered Tsukauchi.
Izuku took note of the windows as he dropped, counting down under his breath. When he reached the third story window, he grabbed onto the window pane for a second, allowing himself to slow but not stop so suddenly. He kicked off the wall before his elbows extended above his shoulders, aiming for the ground as he dived. Just as he hit the ground, he rolled to make the landing safe and sprung to his feet right in front of the woman scurrying to the hospital entrance, startling her.
"Hi mom." Izuku said with a wave.
"I-Izuku?" Inko stuttered. She held her arms out shakingly as she took in her son's appearance.
"Yeah, mom. It's me. I'm home."
"Izuku!" Inko engulfed him in a hug. "Oh my baby boy! My baby boy!" Inko sobbed, dozens of mixed emotions overwhelming her as she held onto Izuku with a vice grip.
Izuku wrapped his arms around her and simply enjoyed the hug, whispering, "I'm finally home."
Hi, hello! Um, welcome!
Never thought this day would come but here we are...
Ok so, this story has been in development since 2017. The first chapter was actually finished November 20, 2023. I've been working on two other chapters up to the day of publication. Let me explain.
This story originally began as three separate stories. A S.T.A.L.K.E.R. webcomic I started writing in 2017 that I simply shelved because I couldn't find an artist to work with me on it to produce a few chapters to showcase in a crowdfunding campaign. I was still a broke college student with a story I wanted to tell for a franchise whose developers weren't around anymore. So in 2018 I began to turn that story into a huge standalone mod based off of the S.T.A.L.K.E.R. Anomaly mod. I ended up shelving that too because literally a few months into the project the Developers arose from the damn grave and announced they were making S.T.A.L.K.E.R. 2: Heart of Chornobyl on the unreal engine. So I'm learning unreal so I can make the mod for the new game when it hopefully comes out this September 2024.
2019, I began to write two MHA stories. One was a story about Izuku getting trained by All Might as well as a USAF Parajumper, teaching him the ways of badass rescue ops. The other story was going to be an Escape from Tarkov AU, and man oh man I was so into that story but I was going through a rough patch in my life at the time and it was affecting how I was writing. This story was shelved but I do hope to bring it back out in the far future.
Let's fast forward to Spring 2023. I was looking back at my stories with fond memories and happened to be reading Locked in Digital at the time. The back and forth through flashbacks and present time and use of games, guns, and martial arts... well I was struck with inspiration. I sat down and wrote a paragraph, not much, but it is the very first paragraph to this chapter. And then I went back to playing S.T.A.L.K.E.R. GAMMA, starting a new playthrough with just a USP, a knife, a gas mask, and two AI-2 health kits, noting down on my phone every major interaction and encounter I had. Every playthrough of the STALKER games is unique, and I was going to use that to my advantage. So here we are, a story that I'm writing with practically zero planing beyond some significant events and the gameplay inspired stuff. Story and characters will be an amalgamation of stream of consciousness and stuff plucked from the three original stories I had planned.
I don't expect people to understand the Zone, or know the lore to these cult classics. In fact, I'd prefer you didn't. I'm only using the lore for the original trilogy, and throwing in elements of the original book Roadside Picnic, the 1979 movie, the table top role playing game, the board game that is being crowdfunded, the manga Other Side Picnic, and other media also inspired by STALKER.
I want to warn everyone once again, this story will be graphic, it will be diving into the horrors of humanity, the crimes, and the filth. I will get philosophical, and I will have to use certain language that is used by the less savory denizens of the Zone as seen in the game. I will also endeavor to use Ukrainian spelling of particular words where I can. I apologize if I get some stuff wrong, I'm just a Florida Man obsessed with planes.
By the way, I will not be providing any translations for the Russian or Ukrainian phrases used in this chapter. In future chapters I will but for the sake of OoOo mystery and intrigue~ I won't for this chapter.
Oh and when I write in either, for context, when Izuku is being rude or says something in surprise, it's Russian. Any other time it's going to be Ukrainian. I'll switch between Cyrillic and Romanizing it at my discretion. I don't know I'm an inconsistent chucklefuck.
Oh yeah and updates will be erratic and with long wait times my apologies, I'm bogged down by pilot training, and my friend and fellow author, AriaYeoSansa, is slow when it comes to editing and beta reading. This story is going to be a long one, no clue how long, I'm basically writing by the seat of my pants. I've also got a side story in the works which I will reveal on my once I get that set up. I'll post a link here later. If you would be so kind to support me, that would be amazing. Pilot training is sucking me dry financially and emotionally.
There is also a playlist on Spotify that is 100% influencing and reflecting scenes and chapters planned in this story. Just search for Lost to the Zone and it should pop up!
Oh and please talk to me! Leave long comments! I'm dying to talk to y'all!
Anyways, gotta go work on chapter three, see ya next time!