Chapter 4: Running Again
I had took an innocent hostage to further my own goals. In the basement we sat, waiting for her friend to come back with my filters; my only way out of this building. I was running from one of my own problems. My life and this pony’s life, all depend on the choices of her friend. Let’s hope she is as sensible as she seemed.
Running Again
Perspective: Artyom
The crying had stopped shortly after the purple one had left. Now, she was just quietly sobbing under her forelegs. I was sitting across the room from her, closer to the door just in case the purple one came back. A thought crossed my mind, I had never learned their names. It would have seemed pointless for a captor to learn a hostage’s name unless it was about ransom. For me though, I felt horrible for initiating this whole mess.
My conscience was yelling at me for what I had done, telling me to comfort the poor thing. With an audible sigh, I rose from my seated spot and moved to where the pony was laying. As I sat down, I noticed she looked up at me. The moment I made eye contact though, she hid her face and started to shake again. She feared me and what I might do to her. I quietly sat down on the cold concrete flooring, back against the wall, all the while looking at her.
“What’s your name, little pony?” I was, at this point, genuinely curious. Names always gave a little hint as to what the culture might be like.
Of course she didn't respond to me. She instead started to outwardly cringe. I frowned under the now useless gas mask. No matter how hard I tried to convince myself that this wasn’t my intention, I had to look at the facts, I was a menace to these innocent creatures. Maybe I could at least right one wrong, starting with this pony.
“Do not be afraid. I just want to know your name.”
A small squeak of sorts was her response. I inwardly cringed at this. It would take a heart of ice to not feel horrible for making this creature cower. I realized though that this was an improvement. She hadn't spoken in any way or form the previous time I asked.
My hand started to stroke her mane, it seemed instinctual for me to do this. Something deep in my heart told me that I would be able to coax her out if I showed this little bit of empathy. Many times I had doubted my conscious, and instead acted purely on instinct. So, it was a complete shock to me when the pony stopped shaking. She didn't remove her head from under her hooves though, but it was a start.
“Даже имя назвать, и то стесняется,” I mumbled aloud, staring sadly at the creature huddle on the floor. A rather deep sigh escaped my lips, before my eyes softened. I decided to speak up again. “Can you say your name?”
I removed my hand from its place, stroking her hair. She had taken a deep breath which startled me admittedly. She took another deep breath. Her head rose from under her hooves. With excruciatingly slowness, she turned her head so that I could finally see her face. Half of her face was covered by her lengthy, pink mane. Such an unnatural colour for a horse’s mane, but what experience did I have with them? I only had distant memories or a few living ones, while the rest were only pictures.
“Fluttershy,” She squeaked out. It wasn’t as quiet as she thought it was though. I had always been told that my hearing was exceptional; it saved my life multiple times in the past. I decided that her courage deserved her an award. It wasn’t anything special, just her chance to see who she was being held hostage by. To maybe see that I wasn’t a complete monster.
I slowly took my left hand and slid it under the back buckles of the mask. They were tough to take off though. My pistol had already been put away so I decided to just use both hand. With a small tug, I had pulled off both the mask and my headgear alongside it. The Ranger helm slipped from my grasp though, and thudded heavily on the floor to my left.
Apparently, this had frightened the poor girl. She was once again cowering under her hooves, forcing herself to look away from me. My right hand went back to petting her mane.
“It is all right, Fluttershy. I do not mean to scare you.” My words rolled off my tongue with a sincere sound to them. I had no intention to scare this pony by doing something, given her distraught state. I might have seen a lot of horrors on the battlefield, but I wasn't completely heartless. The thought of possibly having to harm her was damaging enough on my soul. “I was removing my mask.”
Her ears had perked up at this. Her head followed suite, showing me her tear laden eyes. “Y- your... m- mask?” She asked while holding back her tears. She must have misunderstood that the mask was not actually apart of me.
“Да, my mask. This is my true face. That was... gear I wear.” Her eyes began to dry up, tears no longer streaming down her face, as they had previously been. There was a small glint of fascination behind her teal eyes. It seemed I had piqued her interest, on what, was the mystery though. It was a lengthy awkward silence, neither of us were speaking, as if we would destroy something fragile. She had pushed herself up into a sitting position, and was fascinated by her hooves apparently.
I needed an answer, I could not just idly sit by and wait for the purple pony to return. What would be my first question? Where I was and what she was were the foremost on my mind though. So I had come to a decision, I needed to end this silence.
I cleared my throat a little before speaking, “I need to ask some questions. Can you answer them?”
She gave a hesitant nod in confirmation.
“Where am I?”
“Y- you’re in Equestria... um... I- I don’t k- know what to call you...” She trailed off, all the while, trying to hide behind her pink mane. Her most visible eye shut in a wince as if I would strike her down right there. I fought back the urge to smack my forehead.
“Конечно! I know your name, but you don’t know mine. Call me Artyom.”
She looked slightly confused upon hearing the name. Her mouth opened and closed multiple times as if trying out the word for itself. Her eyes darted to a fro, looking for something to concentrate on.
“You said...” I moved my mouth up and down a few times, trying to repeat the word. It was one I had never heard before. After a few mumbles in attempt, I finally got it out, “Equestria right? I never heard of this place.”
“You n- never heard of Equestria?!” Her shock wasn’t unexpected. If what I thought was true, then I would cause a multitude of existential crises among the populace. A being not of this world for them, and I might be the first human to visit another planet, let alone inhabited by sentient life forms but that wasn’t the issue though. Her shock still hadn't died down.
“Fluttershy, I am not from here. I am not from this... World.”
She gasped audibly, but it seemed her interest rose with a gasp. “R- really? What’s it like w- where you’re from?”
The sudden spike in interest and courage forced a small chuckle, “In time, Fluttershy, but can you answer my questions first?.”
She visibly shrunk back again, as if thinking she had offended me. What an unusual being she was. I had never met a human like her let alone a pony; something that changed so quickly in personality. “I- I'm sorry! I- I didn't m- mean to of-”
I held up a hand to stop her, “Не волнуйся, you did not offend, Fluttershy. I ask that you answer mine before you ask yours, is all.”
She nodded in agreement.
“Now, is Equestria a nation? Yes?”
Another nod in response.
“Others like you live here, in Equestria?”
“Ponies”
“What?” I was taken off track by her speaking up.
“We are called ponies.” She said with a genuine smile.
And here I thought it would be some strange name. Instead it was simply ponies; I was in a new world comprised of ponies. I'm sure Miller would have had me checked into a psychiatric ward by now. “Your friend there; I... assume there are different types of... ponies? Am I correct?”
“Oh yes, there are all kinds of ponies, but they all fit into three groups. There are the earth ponies, who are good at growing plants and are very strong. Then there are the pegasi, like me, who fly and manipulate weather. Finally, there are unicorns, the ones with horns. They have magic!”
My mind tried to wrap itself around such ideas. Unicorns and pegasi were just story tales, meant to entertain children. Now my reality was shattered, and here I was, having the existential crisis. I was in a whole new world, where things that didn’t exist back home, were now a sentient race. I took a few more seconds to process her answer. It was then, that another thought struck me.
“What about your friend? She had horn and wings.”
A realization crossed over her face, followed by a rather deep blush. “I- I'm sorry. I completely forgot. The last group of ponies are the Princesses! They are known as alicorns but there are o- only four. They rule the land the whole country as well as the Crystal Empire. They have wings and horns and can do what every other pony race can do.”
Such an odd thing. Only four of them, and they look as if they encompass all the other pony types. Something must be special about them, aside from their royal status, but that wasn’t relevant. My mind baulked for a second before I realised that I had threatened not only a friend of a Princess, but a Princess herself. This could be bad if played wrong, so I had to make sure they thought I was the more powerful being between us. For now though, I might as well keep up a friendly facade. “That answers my two main questions. Though, I am curious why you came here.”
She became somewhat skittish at that question though. “W- well you see... um... this is... my house.”
“Uhh..” I trailed off. There was nothing more I could say about this situation. I hadn't felt like a complete asshole before, but I did after she told me that. Not only did I take her hostage in exchange for my filters, I had also broke into that hostage’s house. This whole situation was getting extremely awkward. I could only hope that her friend had started work on those filters.
~~~~~
(Moments earlier)
Perspective: Spike
I had just finished placing a couple of returned books back on the shelves, when Twilight burst through the front doors. She had a frantic look about her. It was almost akin to when she had feared being late with her letter to Celestia. She didn't even notice me watching as she flung the door closed and bolted for the basement.
As she crossed the library floor, I noticed a large bag in her magic grip. It looked especially worn down, with the dull brown material having multiple badly sewn tears. She had left only to help Fluttershy and now she was back with some strange stuff.
“You all right, Twilight?”
There was no answer from her, as she almost flew down the stairs into her laboratory. What could have gotten her this spooked? I decided to move towards the basement door, in an attempt to see if Twilight was okay.
I barely made it there, when a fuchsia bolt came shooting out of the doorway. Without thinking, I flung myself backwards, just barely avoiding being hit by a frantic Twilight. I picked myself off the ground and dusted myself off before looking for Twilight. She wasn’t in the main lobby, so she must have went up stairs.
I was nearly at the stairs when a shrill scream came from the next floor, “Spike! Where are my quills?!”
The sheer volume and pitch of her voice made me jump in surprise. It wasn’t the first time she had used that voice, but most of the other times were not noteworthy. Just moments of her thinking she was late with something. I gathered myself and sighed before calling back, “right next to the parchments and ink!”
My retort caused a panicked clatter of objects amongst her quick moving hooves. Before I knew it, another fuchsia bolt flew past me again, with its target being the basement. I was worried at this point, if Twilight was in this much of a panic than something big had to have happened.
The basement door was still open and through it I could hear more frantic clattering, such as the sounds of glass being shifted and clinked. When she got into this mode, I knew better than to interject. She would only become more distraught if I tried to calm her down. So I decided to just let this run its course.
I moved back to the bookshelves, my mind still pondering on what Twilight was doing downstairs, and what was in those bags she brought home. I spent several minutes just staring at the shelves, my mind lost in idle thought. My daydreaming was broken by a small shattering of glass, and a resulting yell of anger from Twilight.
At first I was going to go check up on her, but my stomach blind sided me with a growl, signalling for food. I chuckled lightly knowing that there were priorities. A nice jewel sandwich would appease my hunger for now, at least until I needed to cook supper. So with my mind made up, I moved myself into the kitchen. As I prepared my gems and bread, I began to contemplate putting up some directions for Twilight. It’s not that I didn't like cooking, in fact I often enjoyed doing it, but that mare had to learn somehow. I might not always be around when she’s hungry. Maybe I should show her that Cooking for Dummies book Pinkie had mentioned.
With the sandwich prepared, I sat myself down at the table. It should have only taken a few minutes to eat that sandwich, but I found myself lost in thought again; absent-mindedly staring at the wall. I shook my head clear, once again, regathering my thoughts.
After the sandwich was done, I decided to check up on Twilight... Without her knowing, of course. She might blow up the library if not supervised. I put my ear to the door to try and hear what was going on. All that came from below, was the sound of her hooves clopping back and forth on the solid oak flooring. It was obvious that she wasn’t up to as much as I thought. The lack of her cursing out, or calling for me, slowly put me at ease though.
A thought clicked in my head, I had chores and stuff to do. Twilight counted on me to keep things organized, as well as run the Library when she was busy. With her in the basement, doing whatever she was doing, I needed to keep everything in order.
I tapped my claw against my cheek for a few moments, trying to remember the verbal list she gave me. The first thing was... was making sure the books were shelved properly! Luckily, this was one of the less tedious tasks that needed to be done.
Without further thought, I moved the sliding ladder into position and started from the top shelve. It was annoying, having to check each book, but Twilight liked to keep things organized. My mind often ventured back to how frantic Twilight appeared, as she hurried and scurried about in her laboratory. I was definitely curious as to what could have gotten her in such a state. Maybe there was something she forgot to do? That would be possible, sometimes she can be so forgetful, and she does tend to freak out a little when it happens. She was so calm this morning though, why would she freak-out over something little, when last night there were odd sound coming from the Everfree.
Something must have happened! Maybe the Guards got injured or maybe somepony else got injured, because the guards couldn't contain whatever it was! If Twilight was there then that means the others were probably there!
Rarity!
My balance on the ladder gave out, as that thought crossed my mind. I tried to correct myself, as I wobbled on the ladder. My claws reached out to find a grip on the sides, but only grasped air as I tumbled backwards.
A dull thunk sounded, as my back hit the floor. If I didn't have scales, I would have probably hurt something. I quickly pushed myself up to my feet, and bolted to the basement door.
As I neared the door though, I heard her talking. She tended to have a habit of talking to herself. Especially if she was writing a letter to... Celestia. Oh, horseapples.
I hesitantly opened the door, which confirmed my suspicions. Down in the basement, I heard her began speaking, “Dear Princess Celestia...”
I was right, something was wrong, and I had to help. With that, I rushed down the stairs and into the depths of the basement.
~~~~~
(Present)
Perspective: Artyom
I sat, hunched over with my head on my knees and back against the wall. This whole situation was starting to really make me uncomfortable. Yet, I was supposed to be the one in charge.
“Какого хрена не так со мной?” I mumbled rather loudly. My voice was filled with bitterness. This was not who I was. I helped people in the Metro, righted the wrongs that the corrupt caused. Small snippets of my experiences surfaced, a refused payment for helping a child find his family, giving another child his teddy bear back after finding it, even donating bullets to those in need for food. That was who I was; not this unknown monster to a bunch of innocent beings. Maybe it was the system shock of being alive again, that caused this. Maybe it was the adrenaline that forced me to act irrational, forced me to ensure my survival above all else. Forcing me to hold a yellow pegasus hostage.
“Жёлтый пегас.” I mumbled under my breath, followed by an amused chuckle. This whole world made little sense. Only a mental patient would see something akin to this; yet I was no mental patient. Or maybe I was? Maybe I'm unconscious back in Polis, laying on a hospital bed, waiting to be awoken. This world felt all too real though. How could one’s mind cause such insufferable pain at the hands of creatures never seen before?
My train of thought continued to cascade closer and closer to the brink of an existential crisis, until I felt something solid lay on my shoulder. My head rose from its resting place to find a yellow hoof on my shoulder. Fluttershy was looking at me with a confused look. Her mouth opened to speak, but closed quickly as she backed away from me, stumbling into the opposite corner of the room.
“I- I'm s- so s- sorry, I... eep,” was all she managed, before hiding completely behind her hair once more, shaking as if she were freezing. Such an innocent creature that could melt those hearts that were frozen by war.
I exhaled slowly a few times, before finding my voice again. “Do not be afraid. I was... thinking about... what did you want?”
She continued to shake, as she pushed herself off the floor. I had to hand it to her, she was very courageous in the face of everything that had happened. A few deep breaths later, and her shivering had ceased completely, her confidence returning. “I just want to um... ask a few things... if that is all right with you.” She said before her confidence faltered, causing her words to jumble. They almost sounded more like squeaks, then anything.
“Разумеется, I’ll answer some questions.”
“Ooh, what is your world like? Is it nice? Are there animals there? Are they like the ones here?” She kept throwing questions at me. I could hardly keep up with the complete 180 degree shift in her personality. For a moment I started to tune her out, the questions had evolved into a rambling on something about animals. With a clear shake of my head, I focused back on her.
“Притормози! I can answer only a question at a time,” I gave a small chuckle, “not that many.”
A small eep escaped her mouth, before she shut it quickly, drawing herself back behind her bright pink hair. She gave me a sheepish nod. A few moment passed of what I assumed to be the time it took her to figured out a question to ask me. “Umm...if you don’t mind me a- asking, what were you saying earlier, you know... before I umm... approached you?”
I clued in rather quickly on what she was asking. There were some English speaking people back in Metro, it wasn’t fully needed, but it was good to know. Most of the time people tended to speak Russian, but there were times when they found someone who wasn’t Russian, or didn't know enough of the language. Every now and then, you would find someone who would only speak English, or at least through phrases around casually; I guess it grew on me in a way. I had learned most of what I knew from an American back in Exhibition, but I picked up a few things, through travelling enough. The language was almost a passion of mine for awhile. I had even made it a point to pick up as many English books as possible, just to sate my desire to learn. I had wondered at times why there were so many English books, but I pushed that thought to the back of my mind as I read on.
“That is my... native language. Known as Russian, or русский in our language.”
“Then why do you speak Equestrian? I- If you don’t m- mind me asking.” She shied away again. It seems this was a habit of hers.
“Equestrian? To me you are speaking English. Must be the same, oчень странно.” I pondered over that though for a moment, before realizing I hadn't answered her question. I decided to give her the briefest answer though, lest I confuse her more. “I can speak English because I was taught. There are some who speak that back home. Father agreed with my teacher that it would be... useful. I learned more than enough for what I needed.”
She took a little bit of time to take that in, before finding some interest in her hooves. Her face was downcast, as if I had told her that a family member had died. She must have heard the traces of sorrow in my words. An almost inaudible mumble coming from her reached my ears, but could not be picked up. Before my curiosity on what she said could speak up, she decided to speak again. “What is your world like?”
Now that question... that question couldn't be answered easily. My choices were to either avoid the question or tell her the gruesome details about it. I knew that if I chose the latter, I would possibly destroy her innocence, yet the question couldn't be avoided easily enough. It would most likely be the basis for every other question of hers.
So there I sat, nearly rigid in posture, grinding my teeth all the while, while trying to figure out how to answer her question. A deep sigh escaped my lips and my posture was thrown completely out the metaphorical window.
“You really want to know?” She replied with a quick nod and a rather large smile. “Damn. I need you to understand, what I tell you is truth and not make believe. It will not be nice. Do you understand?”
Her eyes bulged slightly, knowing that, whatever she would be told, this likely wouldn't be easy to digest. Just from her fidgeting I knew she was struggling to decide what she should do. She closed her eyes hard, turning her head and held herself like that for a moment.
With all her summoned courage, she looked at me with a steely gaze and nodded sharply. I hope she knew what she would be getting into. Just like I hoped that her friend would hurry up with those filters.
“Give me a moment to gather my thoughts.”
She only nodded in reply, but with a small smile, maybe she is stronger than I predicted her to be. So I sat there for a minute with my hand on my chin, thinking of how I would describe my world to a being that probably knew nothing of war. I was close to having a good method as well. Something though knocked on the cellar door though.
Without thinking at all, my hand had already drawn out my revolver and cocked the firing mechanism back. My eyes drifted towards Fluttershy and proceeded to motion to the door.
A small squeak escaped her before she nodded her head and moved to answer the knocking. “Umm... who is... it?”
“Fluttershy! Are you all right?! I'm... I'm back with the filters.” Ahh, so the purple one was back. Good; this meant I could keep my world a mystery a little longer. Silently, I moved towards my helmet, while holstering my revolver. Years of practice made it easy to put the helmet on with one hand, but knowing the risk of exposure when those doors open, I decided to play it safe.
Once my helmet was on tight, I replaced my two main weapons on my back. Finally I redrew my revolver before nodding once again to Fluttershy. She took a small calming breath before speaking again, “You can, umm... come in, Twilight. You know, if you want to that is...”
I shook my head, once again, at her 180 personality shift. Such an odd thing she was, not that it was a horrible thing though. My inner musings were cut short as the cellar door quickly opened followed quickly by the sound of it closing. This would be the moment of truth, whether or not I was going to get out of this basement. If she had indeed made me more filters, then I knew what I had to do. If not, then I’ll wing it.
The purple alicorn, or Twilight Sparkle as Fluttershy had called her, stepped forward from the entrance way and closer to me. Fluttershy was standing off Twilight’s right so with my weapon drawn I motioned her to move to her friend. I could visibly see her hesitance as she shuffled her way to stand beside her friend. Fluttershy on the other hand had her head visibly cocked to the left. A confused expression had taken her face, no doubt wondering why I was once again being aggressive.
“Filters?” Was all I spoke.
Twilight nodded her head in response and shakily levitated the bag towards me. My eyes widened slightly at seeing her utilize her ‘magic’ in such a way. I hoped that I would never have to get used to such sight. Nonetheless, I needed those filters and the only way was to actually interact with this ‘magic’.
“I will judge,” and with that I quickly snagged my filter filled pouch out of the aura surrounding the strap of the bag. The aura itself disappeared immediately after I had taken hold of the bag. The back of my mind was abuzz with questions on how this ‘magic’ of hers worked. It would seem to have properties that acted like nothing else within Metro.
While I was contemplating that though, my hands were subconsciously lifting the gas mask over my head before quickly screwing in one of the newly outfitted filters. I took a few steps towards the door when a thought struck my mind.
“How you make them?”
“E- excuse me?” It was obvious that the purple alicorn knew who I was talking to.
“I said, how you make them?”
“Oh! Umm,” she grinded her teeth a few times before continuing with a deep breath, “I r- removed the contents and, umm, c- cast a filtering spell into the e- empty canister. Than I, ahem, resealed it with an air locking and repair spell. The spell i- identifies what your l- lungs need and... and filters the a- air to meet t- that n- need. I couldn't c- copy the o- original.”
Under my mask an eyebrow raised up. I had every right to doubt this pony as did she have every right to doubt me. The only way I could know for sure that she was telling the truth was to test it for myself. So with my mind made up I slowly moved to the cellar doors, my right hand still holding my revolver out while the other holding the satchel of filters. All the while holding the satchels, my left hand gripped the door handles.
Without a second thought, I pushed one door open and poked my head out, taking a single deep breath. I held it there for moment. It was followed by another second which preceded another breath. A small smile crept across my face, I could finally get out of the cellar. I moved the satchel over my right shoulder and my head and let it rest across me and against my side. I was ready to leave, but there was one thing that needed to be addressed first though.
“How long?”
This time it seemed that Twilight knew what I was getting at. “Umm, fifteen minutes since y- you didn't s- say a time limit.”
That would work fine. A quick three pushes on my watch and a timer for fifteen minutes was set. The old filters were inefficient, compared to this new one. I gave a brief nod and moved down the steps once more. The crowbar I had originally used to barricade the door was sitting near the bottom of the steps. Quickly grabbing that, I moved back up to the top and swung the other door open, the ponies stood at the bottom of the cellar looking up with eager eyes to finally be done with standing in there.
“I'm sorry but this is only way.” With that I flung the doors closed and ran the crowbar through the handles. I knew it wouldn't take long before they got out out so I had to move quickly. I tore off full sprint away from the house in what my watch was telling me as north.
I made it roughly a couple hundred meters before a voice spoke a little distance behind me; it was distinctively male. “Stop right there, vicious beast!”
“Проклятье.”
Without a second thought, I fired a random shot from my revolver into what seemed to be a group of ten armoured ponies. The head one was adorned in what seemed to be purple armour while the rest were clad in gold. My shot found a mark though, in one of the pony’s legs.
“Aaaiieeeeee!”
“Oh no, it got Will Helm!”
My legs strained as I started sprinting once more. There was no way I was going to go quietly for these ponies. I knew that if they ever caught me, I would be done for. Holding an innocent pony like Fluttershy hostage had to be a capital offence. Well, some places in the Metro would have shot such a person on sight. At least one good reason for being here instead of down there.
My train of thought was broken as a spear was launched past my head and embedded in the ground. Shit they were getting serious. I needed to lose them and open ground would hardly be the best way.
The forest!
I quickly planted my left leg and took an abrupt right, directly into the forest I had once come out of. I guess I was lucky enough to have hid in that one house’s cellar, since it was so close to this forest. That, of course, wasn’t at the front of my mind. No; getting away from these ‘guards’, that was my number one issue.
I continued to duck and weave my way through the dense foliage of the forest, knowing that being on two legs would help me immensely in the brush and hinder my chasers.
Maybe it wasn’t their four legged nature, maybe it was their armour, but either way I began to gain ground, stretching the distance between me and the hunting party. I took a few more drastic turns in order to throw them off the path. In the end, I could no longer see the group behind me and could barely hear them in fact.
I decided I could slow my pace to a jog. A set of thick foliage was up ahead and with a quick burst of power I pushed through it and found myself in another opening in the forest.
“Да их тут дохера.” I thought aloud as I walked cautiously across the clearing.
A mixture of voices started to increase in volume a little ways away. I spun around to face their direction to see if they had found me. If they had found me, then the chase would be on again, but with the density of the forest, I could probably lose them easily once more.
Of course, I was relieved to find that not only was there not a soul behind me, but I couldn't see their bright white coats through the trees either. A sigh of relief escaped my lips as I took a few steps back, my focus still being on the tree line I had just broken through. Then, something strange happened.
I felt weightless for the briefest of moments. It was the oddest of feelings, it was almost as if I was being lifted into the air by some... magical... force. I looked down quickly to find that I was encased in a rather blue looking mystic aura and floating above the ground. This was not going to end well at all.
Before I could contemplate my situation any further, my eyes opened wide, as a tree seemed to be hurtling towards me... or I was hurtling towards a tree. It was like being hit by that train again, but with me flying towards the object instead of it coming head on towards me.
As soon as my last bit of snarkiness cleared my head, my body made solid contact with the tree trunk. I was dazed at first but I had no time to struggle before I was slammed again into the tree. Followed by a second time against another tree. Then against another tree, and another. Each tree brought another jarring hit to my body, increasingly more painful than the previous. I was in too much pain to keep track of the amount of times I hit a tree, but eventually it go too much and I blacked out, as simple as turning off a light switch.
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More!I need more please!
I hope you avert the Tap On The Head trope now, because that ending couldn't have led to anything but an aversion or at least a particularly horrible subversion. A blackout for more than a few minutes indicates possibly irreversible coma, so take that into account.
And please, no 'healing magic' cheap way out. I trust you to be very original, as you've already been!
Now it is time to go on a killer rampage.
3079899 What this gentleman said.
3064938 3079899 (Regarding comments, not replying to them)
How saying goes: "told you so", on both accounts: first is messy and confusing, second just doesn't fit.
Also:
Formatting screw-up.
3080241 Since we're talking about "I told you so" moments, here's another that may or may not have come up during pre-posting: Artyom's gas mask went to the sack after as little as Lesnitzky shoving Anna into him. Artyom might survive being made out to be a pinball, but the mask definitely would not. Hell, he'd already be dying from asphyxiation since the first slam.
I like his story. Continue.
I've never laughed so hard in my life!
Oh my god Artyom FIGHT BACK
3079899>>3080183>>3080404
Do not worry about me hitting that trope. The ending is just a typical small blackout by Artyom. Chapter 5 will clarify. This will be the only time in which Artyom succumbs to passing out via physical trauma and not exhaustion or magic bullshit (this is not stating there will be this).
With regards to the gas mask, it did in fact break and this becomes a little plot point in further chapters. His gas mask is not invincible and did break. Chapter 5 will clear up this issue.
3080241
That was a formatting issue on my part. Sometimes I am too eager to post and I do not look over my own work well enough. I will though bring up the italics to my editor. Things will either revert back to normal or will stay with italics.
3081860 3080404 Do you remember that at endgame his armour looked like this: images3.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20130516202859/metro2033/images/a/aa/ArtyomLastLightCestLaVie.png so you'll need to break metal helmet to break mask.
I meant "ask readers what they think".
3082036
The breaking is just the lens itself. This is the same armour that was hit by a train and now a tree multiple times.
No glass is invincible. The whole mask obviously does not break.
3082036 That's where you miss out on a tiny little detail.
A car doesn't have to get split open for the passenger to get hurt. The same applies here: the sheer momentum of the gas mask's materials are quite enough to break at least the glass of the lens, as Rain Fire said it happened.
It's not the fall that kills you... it's the impact at the end.
3082596 3086673 Yeah, but breaking of (reinforced and probably bullet-resistant) glass on such mask will not prevent it from filtering. If it would break in first place.
And, Jack, I don't understand what last line have to do with anything.
3088416
If there is a single missing chip in the glass then unfiltered air is going straight into the mask. In the game, if a mask breaks than you need to find a new one pronto or you will die.
Bullet proof glass can break from certain amount of kinetic force. It is the same as plexi-glass in hockey. They are meant to not break but it can break with the right force/amount.
3088785 These are different masks and the fact that game uses same look of mask regardless of armour is saddening for me.
Well, general construction of gas mask looks like that:
images.wikia.com/metro2033/images/7/73/Ppm-88.jpg
Which means that IRL mask should be pressed to user's face and air that passes trough glass area generally shouldn't be breathed.
Also, I doubt such small and reinforced glass would be broken by tree - especially noting the mask's form. I mean, if hit is this heavy, shouldn't neck snap?
3088861
You make a good point and I could continue to argue against it with my own logic but that it will be pointless because we have our own set views.
I'm just going to say that this is where I use my artistic license to change some things.
3088920 He's forgetting to take into account that the face "plate"'s rubber vedation of a mask from the Metro 2033 'verse is very likely to be compromised, having been left for several years in the cold and humidity. That explains why the glass is so important.
3091753
Ehh, either way this won't change how chapter 5 will go. Things are looking interesting/down for Artyom. Maybe he can catch a break for once.
3091753 Then many full-face masks will be unusable too, but they aren't.
Will Helm? You cheeky bastard. Huehuehue.
“Aaaiieeeeee!”
“Oh no, it got Will Helm!”
YES!!!!!!!!
It depends, Spike. What was she making when she last burned down the kitchen? Pancakes or a sandwich? Or was it soup? If it was soup, did the soup start the fire? Do not underestimate a lack a of cooking skill! It can be a truly dark and dangerous thing.
Really...?
Really..?
REALLY...?