It is incredibly cold. Unnaturally so. Even with diminished sense, the once familiar frondescence of the Red Forest would be comforting- if not for the extreme lack of gunshots. Or life, for that matter. Scarcely a mutant in sight; even more disconcerting, is the lack of viscera among the savage vortexes and frantic teslas. Where are the Freedomers? The vying Mercenaries? The fallout from the previous emission has yet to settle- streaks of ash falling from joyless skies. Vaguely, she wondered if she had not been dressed in muted whites and rustic browns, if she would be dead.
The lack of life, an ill omen. The absence of Monolith? A dire presage.
Titan spires of jagged trees poke wickedly at the scarred sky, weaving overhead with crimson leaves to blot the sun. The scenery, the wording, the very meaning of such stillness is dramatic- but for all the wrong reasons. The only clues to life remained in the whispering branches as ghostly winds blew past them, carrying the smoke of dying embers made of many campfires. And the sodden footprints of many trailing ever northward.
From high tops, to the well-abandoned mineshafts, she searched. Not a peep, nor a soul- even the Zone seemed to be holding its breath. Here, in this stagnancy, she shivered. What storm awaits her, when the world seems to slow at this pace? Surely, she would die any second, the rapport of a long rifle scarcely heard, and a hole for a heartfelt handshake in her chest. It never came, but neither did the feeling of impending death escape her.
Ironically, nerves got the better of her. She retreated back to the hole she had been calling home for quite some time- the ragged cloth and wire amongst hidden foliage the perfect cover for privacy. Not the best for fires, though. It was always cold. She removed the scratched and mangled PDA from an old belt and tapped on it with squinting eyes.
[PDA-PM] Saracen: We have a problem.
[PDA-PM] Pryvyd: What is it?
[PDA-PM] Saracen: Red Forest is empty.
[PDA-PM] Pryvyd: It's always filled with corpses, if not mutants.
[PDA-PM] Saracen: It is empty. There is nothing.
[PDA-PM] Pryvyd: Be more specific; you have to focus, Yynata.
[PDA-PM] Saracen: Sorry. There is nothing. There are no stalkers. No mutants. The anomalies are present, but vacant. There are no Monolith.
[PDA-PM] Pryvyd: Oh.
[PDA-PM] Saracen: Yes. Are you still following Sushi?
[PDA-PM] Pryvyd: I am. And Irish, too. Kop’ye is also around here, somewhere. We’re leaving the Crossroads and heading to Jupiter, actually.
[PDA-PM] Saracen: I don’t know who those people are, but I need to see Sushi. I will arrive in two days.
[PDA-PM] Pryvyd: You’ll get there. Day by day.
[PDA-PM] Saracen: Day by day.
She placed it back into its holster. Wasting little time but to eat and drink, she grabbed her travel pack and set out into the forest once again, unceremoniously heading somewhere West, little thoughts in her mind.
The lack of life, an ill omen. The absence of Monolith? A dire presage.
Titan spires of jagged trees poke wickedly at the scarred sky, weaving overhead with crimson leaves to blot the sun. The scenery, the wording, the very meaning of such stillness is dramatic- but for all the wrong reasons. The only clues to life remained in the whispering branches as ghostly winds blew past them, carrying the smoke of dying embers made of many campfires. And the sodden footprints of many trailing ever northward.
From high tops, to the well-abandoned mineshafts, she searched. Not a peep, nor a soul- even the Zone seemed to be holding its breath. Here, in this stagnancy, she shivered. What storm awaits her, when the world seems to slow at this pace? Surely, she would die any second, the rapport of a long rifle scarcely heard, and a hole for a heartfelt handshake in her chest. It never came, but neither did the feeling of impending death escape her.
Ironically, nerves got the better of her. She retreated back to the hole she had been calling home for quite some time- the ragged cloth and wire amongst hidden foliage the perfect cover for privacy. Not the best for fires, though. It was always cold. She removed the scratched and mangled PDA from an old belt and tapped on it with squinting eyes.
[PDA-PM] Saracen: We have a problem.
[PDA-PM] Pryvyd: What is it?
[PDA-PM] Saracen: Red Forest is empty.
[PDA-PM] Pryvyd: It's always filled with corpses, if not mutants.
[PDA-PM] Saracen: It is empty. There is nothing.
[PDA-PM] Pryvyd: Be more specific; you have to focus, Yynata.
[PDA-PM] Saracen: Sorry. There is nothing. There are no stalkers. No mutants. The anomalies are present, but vacant. There are no Monolith.
[PDA-PM] Pryvyd: Oh.
[PDA-PM] Saracen: Yes. Are you still following Sushi?
[PDA-PM] Pryvyd: I am. And Irish, too. Kop’ye is also around here, somewhere. We’re leaving the Crossroads and heading to Jupiter, actually.
[PDA-PM] Saracen: I don’t know who those people are, but I need to see Sushi. I will arrive in two days.
[PDA-PM] Pryvyd: You’ll get there. Day by day.
[PDA-PM] Saracen: Day by day.
She placed it back into its holster. Wasting little time but to eat and drink, she grabbed her travel pack and set out into the forest once again, unceremoniously heading somewhere West, little thoughts in her mind.
