"The absolute madman. He actually surrendered," Strelok muttered, inching away from the chaos. But despite all the Monolith troopers swarming in, he was still invisible.
No night vision or sensor could pick him up, unlike with Konrad.
'Different methods,' the parasite brain of Lucifer's puppet noted. 'That was the entire point.'
"If you say so," the Stalker grunted, trying to appear as small as possible. "Now what?"
He managed to slip through the soldiers and even the armored blockade, but—
There was nothing beyond them.
Well, nothing he could see, other than the ginormous Dome.
'Right, the Bubbles are invisible for you, too. But I can navigate you to the leftmost one,' the voice offered. 'Almost every person I could read had gone through there.'
But that wording only made Strelok freeze.
"So the cannon fodder," he whispered. "And you could never read the elite's mind, right?"
That even gave a pause to this all-knowing brain, too.
Or was it because they carried off Konrad Halstadt like a piece of tied ham?
'No, no. I'm still here and thinking,' he claimed. 'Also had to give a little push to your backup team. An airstrike might be incoming soon as a diversion.'
Mhm. That was all great, but didn't answer his question.
Nor did it reveal any of the Teleportation Anomalies, but—
The Monolith people were dragging Konrad towards the right.
Most grunts still headed left, but two wearing exoskeletons remained by his side, and—
'Yeah. You're right,' the voice boomed, sounding more urgent than before. 'In the memories I could reach, these heavy guys always went middle or right. The other two might be a trap.'
Middle? Right? Other two?!
"How many portals are there in the first place?!" Strelok whisper-shouted, careful not to make himself known, but—yeah. He was sure getting a bit antsy there.
'Five. They're heading for the rightmost one. Each Bubble is three feet apart. Pick your poison.'
And without further explanation, the voice disappeared from his mind.
It happened at the same time as those soldiers dragged Konrad through one, too.
But his invisibility—
No. Still nobody spotted him, clutching that silvery coin the otherworlder had given him.
"For fucks sake," he seethed, trying to map those invisible landmarks ahead.
At least, he was good at it. Quite experienced, too.
One had to be, if they wanted to survive in the Zone, full of invisible threats, monsters, and Anomalies. And—at least according to the other Stalkers—he was one of the best at doing that.
As if he ever cared about it.
Or the treasures, riches, fame, and whatnot.
Ghost and Fang might've followed him because of those, but Strelok's goal had never changed.
To finally find his twin sister and free her from whatever torture Lucifer put her through.
Or Lucifer's men. Who cared?
After decades of searching, he was finally close.
And a little puzzle or a labyrinth wouldn't discourage him now.
"So they took him right," he grunted as the last of the Monolith footmen disappeared. "And most of the rest went left. I sure as hell don't want to follow those and turn into Swiss cheese."
But following Konrad didn't seem like the right idea, either.
He surrendered. They'd guard him. Interrogate. Figure out who or what he is.
No way they would take him to his sister—or whoever ran this place—right away.
And since his invisibility would only last until he went through one of the portals—
The middle one. That had to be it.
That parasite told him they used it sometimes, and—
"Three feet left. Another bubble. Then three more feet," he measured the distance before holding back his breath. But unlike with most Anomalies that created at least a little wind—
These were silent and invisible, through and through.
Well, he still had the Detector. He could use it, but the Monolith would have seen him as well.
Not to mention the radiation levels, which he expected to be insane on the inside.
He'd been alone since his comrades decided to follow Lucifer's orders instead, and yet? It felt like he couldn't decide without outside help. Being this close to his goal paralyzed him.
But the new sounds—not the wind, but this annoying buzzing—urged him forward.
The voice did mention an airstrike, and he was right next to that roadblock, so—
One step forward, and reality blurred around him.
It was definitely a Teleportation Anomaly he'd experienced many times before.
But now, he entered one on purpose, and on the other side—
"What the hell?" he grunted, blinking as he looked around.
It was not what he had expected.
He could place it—he had a good sense of direction, but it still looked surreal.
The portal had sent him inside the Dome but still outside the actual Power Plant, and—
While it should have been dark, the ceiling of that gigantic structure lit up like the stars.
Nobody else—human or mutant—was in sight, but he could confirm his invisibility was gone.
And the road ahead—
'Found you,' the parasite brain's voice returned, startling him. 'I see. So you're on the roof of Block 4. Must be nice and toasty. We're deep underground, and the Psyonic pressure is crazy.'
Strelok let out a deep breath he didn't realise he was holding.
If the voice could talk to him, that meant Konrad was still alive.
Somewhere underground, but—
Wait.
"I'm on the roof? This is Block 4?!" he repeated as the realisation hit. And sure enough, his radiation sensors went wild. If not for his Bubble Artifact, he'd already gotten a deadly dose.
'Yeah, and if you follow that ledge, you'll reach another Teleportation Anomaly.'
Even more of those?!
'It looks like a maze,' the voice explained. 'From one portal to the next. But that might still be the most direct route towards the core. Down here, it's much less nice.'
A maze, huh? Well, why not?
He expected hordes of men and mutants to stand between him and his sister.
But if it was a mere maze, he could have dealt with that, too.
'Hmm, about those hordes,' the parasite noted. 'They're already aware of you and have sent a troop your way, so you'd better get going. The next portal is towards two o'clock from you.'
Ugh. He should have learned when to shut his mouth.
Even if he was only thinking those things.
But clutching his Krinkov, Strelok started running.
Two o'clock? The remains of a chimney blocked his path, so he had to go around, but—
A shot rang out from behind, bullets bouncing off the concrete walls.
Those soldiers got here way faster than he had expected.
But that was another thing Strelok was good at. Too good, even.
To survive.
He didn't even look, stretching out his arm to aim the barrel straight behind his back to fire.
It was easy to tell which rounds whooshed past his target and which ones actually hit.
The grunt of that soldier told him he was right on his money, too.
But the return fire let him know these Monolith guys were tougher than the ones he knew.
"More bullets, then," Strelok grunted, this time actually looking and aiming for the head.