The Saga of Boris Unforgiven

  Wind howled between the buildings of Limansk, the narrow alleyways amplifying the sounds. What little vegetation still remained unburdened by the snow rustled as gusts of wind danced around the pavement. Dimuha glanced at the fluorescent glow of his clock. Eleven in the morning. Time to move on, he thought, and sighed. Taking out his SVDS rifle, he swapped the PSO scope for a more close range Kobra sight. No point using a sniper scope on the city streets. Having finished his tinkering, he took a look around. Gleb Hawk, Valik Anti-Air and Leva Voyager were the Redemption continent of his small squad, Arthur Heathen was the lone Freedomer who had joined them after the battle for the Brain Scorcher. All fully equipped and ready for battle. Dimuha gave them a silent order to get ready, the mission would surely be rough. They had orders to take a small factory outside of the main road, apparently Sinners had a primitive arms and material workshop there. Taking it out wasn't a huge pri

  The ghost town of Limansk had turned, once more, into a battlefield. Unlike during the Clear Sky's ill-fated expedition northwards many years ago however, this time the stakes were higher than ever. The Zone remained a threat to humanity, but with the possible utilization of the Duga antennas as psi-emitters, the entirety of Europe and Russia was in danger. Thus, despite Sin's heavy lockdown over the city, fighters from all over the Zone had answered the call to arms. Ecologist commandos, merc operators, Redemption penitents, Clear Sky pathfinders and veteran stalkers protected the last lifeline of sanity, the bridge to Limansk. For Boris, a coherent picture had long since grown hazy and distorted. He had divided Redemption forces into task forces, playfully named Kolbasa, Maslina, Cheburek, Blin and Pelmeni by Dima and Dimuha. Dima, Dimuha, Vityukha and Sanyok had taken command of the four other task forces, while Boris would lead the main offensive down the main road toward

The inhospitable industrial landscape of Rostok greeted the first rays of sunlight eagerly. Around Voronin's bunker, a squad waited impatiently for the next unlucky group of Duty soldiers to begin their shift and release the squad from their watch. The men were tired and agitated, last few weeks had seen increased mutant attacks, spy shakedowns and tensions between free stalkers and Dutiers. News of the situation in Garbage travelled fast, and Duty's inaction during the military's rampage was well-known. The Duty squad leader, long-time veteran of the Zone Sergeant Barin, flipped the sight of his special Groza's grenade launcher up and down. The rifle was his prized item, one of only a handful of such in the Zone, but lately it had been mostly a sort of stressball for him. The man's nerves were on the edge, and long nights of watch near the general did little to help. He'd take any excuse for a few hours of sleep. And luckily for him, such a thing came. A Duty s

  The bleak landscape of Dead City seemed even more hopeless than usual. The brutalist architecture of the city, abandoned for decades, mirrored its current inhabitants quite well. For Boris and his squad however, it was a refuge amidst chaos. The defeat at West Yantar had made them vengeful and furious, but it was also clear that a second for rest was needed. The strategically placed mercenary sniper nests kept the city clean, and upon seeing the crimson and black uniforms of Redemption a few mercenaries waved in greeting. Inside the marketplace serving as mercenary base, the athmosphere was rather gloomy. Four soldiers of fortune sat at an empty space before Dushman's stand, staring at the ground, hands hanging limply on top of their knees. Other mercenaries seemed to patrol the large building aimlessly, and even the upstairs radio seemed to be off. Boris glanced at Dima, who shrugged. Sanyok seemed a bit nervous, something Boris didn't hold against him, it was his first time

  The night sky over Western Yantar contrasted the flames rising from the underground complex. Cold stars lit the sky, while the snow on the ground reflected the fires. Strelok's and Father Diodor's group fought off yet another wave of Zombified, Strelok's SIG sniper wreaking havoc among the braindead while Diodor's and others 9 millimetre assault rifles cut a bloody tally. The explosion had alerted the group from their hunt, but the way to the demolition site was blocked by hordes of walking corpses, their rusty weapons still capable of fierce fire. Determined push allowed the stalkers to finally break the shambling husks. They made their way to the now-crumbled roof of the laboratory. The lab was in ruins. The roof concrete had smashed through the wire mesh protecting the central machine, but Strelok had to admit that the Sin demolitioners had been quite accurate with their work. The roof had collapsed to the sides of the room below, leaving enough room for the machin

  Dim yellow and pale white lights casted away the shadows of the large room under the enigmatic West Yantar complex. The speakers on the walls crackled as electricity entered them for the first time in ages. An old recording begun to play, distorted by static at places: Welcome!... Welcome to... ty sevente..., could be heard before it was stopped and a deep, gravely voice replaced it. Acedia, you damn idiot, I told you to check that the recorder was empty. Ahem, anyway, welcome stalkers! Since you were so insistent on barging into the middle of our operations, we'll gladly show you what is it we're after here. Too bad for you though, the brain has a built-in self-defence mechanism unlike the holy Scorcher and Miracle Maker. Once it notices you, it will divert pure psychic energy at you at unsurvivable rates. This is the price for nosing around, the voice said mockingly, the speakers shutting down with a prominent electric screech. What now?, Boris whispered to Kruglov standing

  The tunnels below West Yantar radar facility are surprisingly similar to the Sarcophagus of the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant, main exceptions being size and the lack of Monolith presence. The maze is a confusing place, the hallways and corridors twisting and turning with abundant radiation. Boris kept his Fort shotgun high as he continued on, him and Dima leading the group while Sanyok kept the rear covered. Kruglov was doing constant readings of the area, although Boris couldn't make heads or tails on what exactly was the nature of these. If light could seemingly not survive in the tunnels, sound had no such issues. Muffled sounds of bloodsucker roars and snork wheezing carried over the tunnels. At times, Boris was certain that he heard quiet speech from the front, but it was not exactly clear if it was simply his imagination. The paranoia was creeping in, although having handled many labs during his career as stalker he soon collected himself. A dim light came from the end of