A/N: I do not own the STALKER series and Familiar of Zero. All OC contents are created and owned by me. This story will be based heavily on the manga, partial from the anime, and includes violent shenanigans improvised from my thoughts mixed with the gritty reality that is the Zone. Some elements will follow Clear Sky, Shadow of Chernobyl, and Call of Pripyat. All weapons, armor, anomalies, and artifacts will follow CoP rules, with the exception of callbacks. Factions may vary.

Please leave any critique so I might fix anything I've missed. If you have any problem identifying the words used, Google it or use your imagination.

That is all.

Edit: Portions of the Light Novel will be added, after much considerations, into the later arcs of the story.

Chapter 1

Clear as the Skies above

Clear sky.

That is always a good omen for me whenever I go out to find artifacts as per usual before or after an emission. I hardly go outside when it rains or when Noah is sometimes heard preaching on top of his 'ark' about his hypocritical hatred for all mutants, despite owning one when I heard a stalker mentioning it to his buddies. Funny enough, the swarming of mutants did happen not too long ago after the news of important military soldiers pulling from the Zone in Pripyat. It was a good thing I was inside the Skadovsk during that time of terror. The damn Snorks clawing at the front door kept me up all night in fear that one might sneak in through topside and eat my face off.

My boots landed on the rusted steel floors of the derelict ship as my nostrils flared at the familiar scent of fresh wind blowing inside. The door closed with a resounding slam while I perched my ears to make sure that loon isn't going off his meds today. With no signs of any indicated ranting, I gave a quiet sigh of satisfaction at the calm before me and walked out to the opens of the swamp lands. The smell of the swampy air wasn't exactly invigorating, but it held that particular detail that tends to leave me guessing all the time. Sometimes it would smell like rotten eggs coated with a sickening sweet texture. Other times, it would be industrial hair spray and cinnamon. The list would go on and on. I've asked the others about it, but they never seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary beside wet and boggy. It could just be me, for all I know, but I wasn't going to pay any mind to it now since today was a special day for me.

Today is the day I get my high-end order from Nimble after he gets back tonight.

Now, I'm not one to brag since anyone can just buy special merchandises from him, but this one was different. Nimble knew I had a thing for owning historical items. The reason for that was easily known when I pulled out a brass pocket watch from the pocket of my leather jacket, completed with a fob and chain, on the upper deck where he usually resided in. I was checking the time and realized that the clock had stopped so I winded it up to keep it ticking once more. The little watch caught his eye and he had asked me if I liked watches. I told him I was into old stuff that holds a history in them. Being the shady salesman that he is, he offered me a deal that was expensive, but "worth the money" as he put it. Nimble explained that he could get me a good suit of battle armor with a balance of both anomalous and fighting capabilities that held a long history of its own during the early times of the Zone.

Hearing that, I was suspicious since I heard rumors that most of his 'acquired' items came from dead stalkers pilfered from their bodies so I had my doubts at first. He reassured me that his business is legit, stating that he had conducted previous sales with full customer satisfaction; the only setback was that I would have to play item roulette with my rubles due to the fact that what I would be getting at random, I will have to pay for it when it comes whether it fit me or not.

Then again, most of what I saw from the Loners and, surprisingly, Bandits, were unique and better than the stock equipment everyone owned. When I asked some of them, they mentioned about a special dealer usually hanging around the top deck above the bar. Of course, I was curious but dismissed the idea that I would ever need a bedazzled, shiny piece of equipment to improve my chances of survival.

So what made me go up there; Happy Hours.

Yes, there is such thing as that in the Zone. No, the 100 Rads Bar is not the only popular place that does it. Let's just say I'm not exactly into large crowds, especially large crowds with bandits inside the rusted sanctuary at night.

Barks of blind dogs can be heard at a far distance from where I am at and yet I kept walking across the marshlands, avoiding the various pools of water around me while keeping an eye for any appearance of danger that might or might not leap at me at any given moment. Like always, the weather was cold and breezy as a small gust brushed past me and I shivered for a bit while pressing onward Northwest to the Burnt Farmstead.

"50,000 rubles better be worth whatever the hell I am getting." I muttered behind the balaclava through clenched teeth.

50,000. That is enough dough to buy me a good TV set or a brand new futon that even folds properly! 9,000 for down payment while 41,000 for the final purchase. As much as I wanted to believe myself that he wasn't swindling me out of my money, I still doubted that he could get me a suit that wasn't a piece of shit falling apart inside. That would leave me with 10,000 rubles, enough to last for a few more months if I have a decent shooter (which is being modified by Cardan right now) and some ammo. Hopefully, I can recover my funding by just artifact hunting since Beard pays good on specific finds.

My ears picked up shots fired in barrages at the Farmstead when I was close to getting there. Quickly I ran over to a nearby bush and hid behind the dry cover to avoid being spotted by whoever was firing in the first place. As I peered over the edge, I saw a couple of black trench coaters with AKM-74/2Us fighting three Loners armed with Hunting Shotguns and an AKM-74/2. I can tell one of them is definitely experienced since he is wearing a Sunrise suit and holding an assault rifle, while the other two are obviously rookies. The bandits, on the other hand, are also experienced with the way they are constantly strafing while moving forward. I'll admit, skirmishes like these are something I don't just head straight on guns blazing like those American bootlegs shown on TV and I have no qualms waiting them out so I can continue on to what I am doing, so for now I will just sit on my ass and watch the show until one side is the victor.

Call me a heartless bastard or a coward if you will, but I'm just playing it smart so I can live longer. Besides, I'm poorly covered and I only have a UDP Compact on me with three mags to spare; my Viper got demolished beyond repair when a boar stepped on it, alright?

One of the rookies fell with bloody holes riddling his torso while the other tried to use the low ground for cover. The sunrise fellow managed to down a bandit before receiving a bullet to the face from his pissed off buddy. That now leaves one trench coater and a rookie who might as well be shitting himself for his turn of an unfortunate event. If I were him, I would be running away as fast as my legs can carry me.

And what does he do? He just keeps fighting on as if his vengeance will meant anything instead of taking the easy way out. What an idiot.

"Eat this, scum!" The doomed rookie shouted angrily as he took out a grenade, unpinned it, and lob the live frag at the surprised bandit.

"Oh shit!" The bandit scurried away from becoming meat patty. The grenade soon exploded, throwing up dirt in the air but it did not harm the man at all. Lucky him, I guess.

Hah…

Well, let see who lives and who dies. I got the time.

Zero! The nerve of them to call me that name!

Louise Françoise Le Blancde La Valliére, or the Zero as most of Tristain student's called her, stormed into her room and slam the door shut. She was seething over the mockingly given runic name they provided and hastily undressed her school uniform to change into a night gown. With an irritated sigh, she hoisted herself up and under the soft covers of the bed and stared off the wall. Tomorrow will be the Springtime Familiar Summoning Ritual exam for second years in the academy and what have she done to solve her mishaps?

Even with all the extended studies and research, Louise still couldn't figure out her inability to cast magic. With every casting, only explosions were the results of her failure. The rest of her peers can cast their spells just fine, so why couldn't she do the same like them?

The name title continued to echo in her mind, causing her to tighten her grip on the blanket and her face to strain in frustration. Damn that Zerbst and her useless chest fat she always flaunts around to get attention. She will not lose against her, even if the family feud must go on longer. The Rule of Steel enforces her will to never give up or show weakness.

She will show them all what a great and honorable noble is made of by summoning the wisest, powerful, and beautiful familiar that will give its full loyalty to her at every command. Just they wait.

Louise turned her gaze toward her window where the moons hung magnificently amidst by the young night and smiled at the sight. Perhaps fate and the will of Brimir might answer her prayers after all if she keeps going to meet her goals.

Perhaps. Perhaps not. She will have to see to it for herself when the day comes.

Her eyelids grew heavier as she slowly sank into a deep sleep, some part of her desperately wanting a miracle to happen just to save face and not deal with the ridicule anymore.

If all goes well, her family will be proud of her success. Mother would not be disappointed at her lack of magic.

My very own majestic familiar…

So, here I am watching these two duking it out for who knows how long and so far not one of them is dead yet. Despite how ill-equipped the rookie was, I am a little surprised this one is still breathing after all the beatings he is taking. A bullet wound on his left leg, a couple splotches on the right shoulder. At this point, he should have been on the ground with injuries like those. The bandit isn't faring any better since he's sporting a bad leg as well from a well-placed pellet spray. Now and then, they would trade insults between shots like "You son of a bitch" or "Suck my cock", blah blah blah; this and that, pretty much. It kind of reminds me of that bitch fight Duty and Freedom will usually have when one of the greenies would bring up the 'Tachenko Scandal' as they liked to call it. From what I heard, the General and his close-knitted elite team died like bitches and that Duty tried to cover it up with a weak-ass story of how he disappeared during one of their artifact hunts. I thought it was funny how ironic the original founder's goal of an organization bent on destroying the Zone was no different than ours.

The rookie with the hunting shotgun finally took the hint that he was fucked when a bullet landed in his gut and he fell down in a crying heap of pain. Trench coater puts away his AK carbine and unholsters his pistol for the final kill. His corny attempt at an evil laughter almost made me groan aloud. Why is it that nearly every bandit needs to pretend they did something notorious that it should be a big deal to everyone?

He finally got close (probably too close, in my opinion) enough to aim his peashooter directly (and I mean 'point blank range') at the heavily wounded loner and wanted to provide a one-liner before shooting him in the face. I could only roll my eyes as I carefully walked out from the bush and quietly make my way toward him while he tries to find a good quote to use. My right hand reached for the Compact at my side and I grasped the handle with a slow pull, the thumb flicking the safety off as I got closer.

My feet treaded the ground with ease while I kept my eyes on his backside. When I was at a considerable distance, I stopped and aimed my pistol at the unwary sap who finally decided to come up with a catchphrase that even I was left impressed with even if he is a thug. Well, soon-to-be-dead one anyway…

"The Zone says hello, bit-"

Pafpafpafpafpafpafpafpaf!

Boy, if I could see the look on his face, he would be pretty surprised to have half a clip emptied at his back by automatic fire. I will have to thank Nitro again if I ever decided to stop by Yanov. Yeah, it is overkill and I should be conserving ammo for later times but hey at least I get to have my fun. The pistol itself has two settings, so if I wanted to single fire then I'll switch to it. Besides, I can always scavenge off from dead bandits and loners much like what I intend to do right now after I dealt with the wounded rookie.

Judging from the glare I'm receiving from him as I approach, I can assume he knows or heard of me during my first stay or so.

Nonetheless, loners never kill one another over anything; even I have standards for this, unlike those trigger happy mercenaries and their 'shoot everyone on sight' policy. Sidorovich and Barkeep are only worried about other stalkers because it might interfere with their business. In a way, that is understandable. But it is not something I would totally agree with.

"Hey bro," I try to make myself look conspicuously friendly even though I was still holding on to my gun, "you're not hurt too badly, yeah? You… need some help?"

"Shove it! I know who you are!" He spat out.

"C'mon, I just heard the commotion. It's not like I'm going to kill you or anything."

"So says the Farmer." Huh, shit. "I've heard talks about you. Skulking around, waiting out for every fight just to take what you want." The rookie moaned at the intense pain coming from the wounds he sustained.

I could only give a nonchalant shrug at his comment. What he said is mostly true to some extents of my dirty means of getting stuff. I have no shame, but I don't see any reason for him to get angry at me for wanting to live. It's not like I conned him with shitty equipment or trick people into giving me their guns like Snag.

"Just so you know… I don't just follow people around in hopes of getting free shit. That happens when I stumble upon these situations and take advantage of it." I gave a half murmur and replaced my gun with a med kit in hand when I pulled it out of my backpack. "It's not my problem if I don't want to risk my neck out for others."

In an ironic twist, what I just said now was pure hypocrisy. It's true that I rather watch them shoot at each other and take their belongings once everyone is dead. It is true that I have the attitude of a loner, but a mindset of a bandit. If I truly didn't care about my fellow loners, I could've left him for dead by not helping. Saying what I said while applying the disinfectant and bandages may probably confuse him.

"If you don't care, then why are helping me?" The rookie hissed, wincing at the tight wrap I was making.

I rolled my eyes. "Do I look that apathetic? If I was in your situation, you might, and I am putting this lightly, might help me out despite my questionable reputation." Which sort of means that I would have to owe them something out of my pocket.

Speaking of which, a dead stalker is no good if they owe you favors in the first place or when they are going to owe you one. See, I can be good and tricky at the same time.

With a few more wraps, I stood up and examine my work. "Eh, it'll do. Just make sure you get those bullets out later. Nothing major is hit, but you will need someone who knows better than me to confirm it."

"Thanks, I guess…" The man grumbled at me in a mixture of gratitude and anger. I'm not sure how these two go together, but as the Americans say: 'Don't look a gift horse in the mouth.'

"So," Brushing my hands together, "I hope you don't mind if I look through your friend's belongings, hm?" My eyes shifted to the AKM-74/2 still gripped in deceased sunrise wearer's fingers. I can tell he wasn't exactly happy with my statement. "Since… well, you do kind of owe me now."

If looks can kill, I might say his would be shooting out like jet streams of Burners at the Burnt Farmstead. My hands were raised at the renewed hostility.

"Relax. I just want food, meds, and bullets. You can have the AR and whatnot. Hell, why don't you sift through your dead friend's stuff while I focus on the bandits. Anything you leave behind I will take, deal?"

With a defeated sigh, he let out a quiet "Fine" and took the assault rifle with him while digging through the bags. As for me, I opted for the bandit on my far left and went through the body to see if he has anything useful. What I need is 5.45mm bullets, maybe a little more .45 cals, bandages, med kits (if I am lucky), and some Tourist's Breakfasts. I could use some bread as well, but I rather buy them from the bar than take them off dead bodies; it's unsanitary.

I rummage inside the bag and found some mags of 19x9mm JHP and a Martha that have seen better days, so I ditch the gun itself and took the remaining mag instead. A couple mags for the carbine AK was also found along with an RGD-5 grenade, but no food or meds sadly enough. Like the Martha, the AK-74/2U was beaten up and held little value for me to sell so I did the same as I always do. After that was done I move on to the second bandit, near the rookie, who was splayed on the ground in a comical position. I emptied the contents of the bag on the ground and saw a Kora-919 drop out, among other things. A few mags for the AK and Kora, two bandages, a med kit, and a diet sausage that I don't think I will keep because of germs and stuff. The guns themselves are fine, but I went for the AK since Koras are kind of shitty when it comes to hitting your mark and fire rate.

"I'm done." The rookie loner said to me, got up, and went toward the farmstead with a Bear Detector in hand. I soon did a look over though the other two bodies and found nothing of use for me other than the shotgun. It was in near perfect condition, so maybe I can hold on to that and sell it to Owl once I get back. The AK-74/U2 that I have isn't good at hitting things and is not as reliable like its bigger counterpart because overheat is a bitch, but I could always use a backup rifle just in case. If not, then I can just salvage it as well.

Pulling out my Veles Detector and a bolt after I strapped the guns on my pack (making sure to eject any rounds for safety reasons), I noted the green dots displayed on the screen and headed toward the anomaly field but kept watch on any disturbance of flowing air currents. You can never be too careful around things such as anomalies. In every emission they change spots so it is always better if you can identify the signs of where they are. One guy I was with in my past travels, provided that he never heard or cared about my rep, got one of his foot incinerated when he stepped too close to a Burner while tracking a moving artifact. The moment he fell down, his head landed on another one and that was the end of it for him. As for me, most of everyone thought I killed him and stayed away after that incident. Now and then rumors would spread on how much of a psychopath I am for not caring. Personally, I just didn't give a fuck what they say and went on my merry ways as usual.

I did warn him that he was stepping too close, but did he listen? Noooooo!

. . .

. . .

Frickin' background whispering... drives me nuts sometimes. I wonder if it's the heat getting to me.

There he goes again… the sneaky Small Farmer, reaping his crops as always. Heard he has quite the collection of artifacts in his trunk. Might need to keep following him until the day is done and he goes back to shipwreck haven just like all the other stalkers. It is only just a matter of time before the night comes and then the plan can be set into action.

A slim man in a bandit jacket hidden underneath a black trench coat watched through his binoculars while laying prone one the ground. Another person next to him, in a brown BDU mercenary suit, sat against the sloped hills to cover the openings around them and briefly scanned with his Viper 5 at the ready.

"Boss," he asked him, "when do we rob him? All this sitting around is making me antsy."

The leader of this particular group muttered "Soon" and still didn't take his eyes off the two loners going on their business as usual.

"But how soon do we go?"

"As soon as we corner the Farmer inside Skadovsk and take his artifacts after night falls and everyone is asleep. The haven welcomes all of us, so there should not be any problems getting in. There we will find him and make him squeal until he caves in." The boss explained.

"I see now. That is a perfect plan there, boss."

"Of course it is perfect," He interjected, "too perfect for us to mess it up! No one would suspect two more bandits without a second glance, simple as that."

"Yes, of course." His lackey agreed and went silent.

Keep gathering those artifacts, Farmer. Soon, what is yours will be ours and when you come around again, we will be long gone by then. It would be fitting if you have the background of one, which will even be more amusing to no end. Muhahahahahaha!

Hopefully, Sultan does not take notice of us treading on his territory. Stalkers may not care who they shoot at as long as they are bandits, but the old coot pays more attention to what is going on. The very last thing is to have a hit placed on us.

"Looks like they are going to move on to another anomaly for harvest, Dwarf; let us do the same."

"Sure thing, Shishak," Dwarf replied right away.

Yes, everything is going according as planned. I'll show that Jack and his merry band of dumb shits who is the better thief, me!

…seven mags from the AK carbines, two mags from the Kora, three from the Martha, an explosive grenade, one Fireball, one Mama's Beads, and a Crystal. Not bad for this run. A bit plentiful than the previous trek when all I found in the Scar Anomaly is a Moonlight and a Bubble inside the underground cavern of the farmstead. The long walk combined with the exposure from the noxious gases and pounding headaches would not be possible without drugs, since I had to scrap my sunrise and gas mask due to the damages of corrosion and large tears. At least Anti-rads, Antidotes, and Hercules are cheap here even though Owl is still a cash whore.

"Are you going to keep watch or stare off at nothing?" My supposed 'travel companion' barked at me in annoyance when we left not far from the farmstead.

Oh yeah, that. Why am I following him?

"Dude, you must be crazy enough to head for another anomaly field, much less the Claw Anomaly." I pointed at his bullet wounds. "With all the shit you took, it's no wonder you're still standing."

He gave me a death glare in return, "Well, maybe if someone actually bothered to help out, then I would not be like this in the first place!"

"Fair enough." I shrugged. "I'm kind of surprised you didn't shoot me when given the chance."

"I need another pair of eyes to watch out for anything that can kill us." He said and did his half walk/limp hobble. "And since you did heal me, I am willing to set aside our differences for the time being."

Which explains why I'm heading there with him; both of us made plans for that area.

. . .

Huh, for someone who was pissed at me for not backing up others during fights, he sure is pretty chill about leaving his dead friends lying there.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not one to judge heavily on what other people do. I just thought it would be more respectful if he toss their bodies into the Burner anomalies for cremation.

Or… maybe he doesn't want to deal with the smells. Burning flesh can be very nauseating, obviously.

We moved past Izumrudnoye, making sure no mutants sprung out from the covers of the long deserted village and kept following the path to where the Fuel Station is at. So far, nothing out of the ordinary beside a few passing loners who gave me dirty looks to which I ignored. Thankfully, no bandit patrols were present but I was not going to let my guard down in this land. The Zone isn't exactly a walk in the park as most wide-eyed rookies failed to see. When I was told by Fanatic that I was heading into a place where weird shit goes on in a daily basis, he wasn't kidding around. Imagine trying to eat something that used to be a normal pig. Fleshes, they call them. God, the moment I saw one of these things I thought it was an oversized Head Crab with eyes from that game I played.

Makes me regret on not bringing a crowbar with me at that time since all I had was a measly PMn pistol and a knife in the beginning. I should have asked that fat old man if he sold crowbars.

Hmm, maybe I can ask Owl about that later.

I did a quick glance to the rookie and noted how crappy and beaten the AK-74/2 looked cradled in his arms. I don't know about him, but that thing needs some serious tune-up if he plans on keeping it for long terms. This gives me an idea.

"Hey, if you want, I can fix that shooter up for you. Buff out the chips and scratches, replace some worn parts, and give it a good cleaning… etcetera. It's gonna cost you, though."

He scoffed at my offer and muttered something about a Cardan knock-off under his breath. Fine, I was going to charge him cheaper than what our technician's prices usually are but if he thinks I can't repair a gun properly than it's his loss. Granted, I'm not as precise much like how Cardan does it, but I don't doubt my skills in fixing up a battered shooter into working conditions; all I need are parts. I don't know how to modify the guns, though, so that's leave me at a disadvantage.

I took out my pocket watch to check the time and saw it was only mid-afternoon, 4:00 PM to be exact. The sun was still high, if I could call the cloudy atmosphere above us that. He and I were almost drawing near the Claw Anomaly field right before a small pack of blind dogs wandered across the path and suddenly charged at us. For me, three dogs with 8 bullets left in the mag seemed too easy. Add the automatic fire feature and a second guy covering my back, and look like another day for us. Unfortunately the guy I am with is still fucked up from the last shooting and those dogs are closing in fast. Put two together and I am definitely positive most of the work will be piled on me. Oh well.

Bap-bap-bapbapbap!

Pafpafpafpafpafpafpafpaf!

The guy next to me brought his rifle to bear, firing some clumsy shots at our charging attackers, while I did the same and let loose a barrage of bullets hoping that most of them will connect.

Under our combined firepower, two dogs were down while the third sported a limp from a couple grazes at close range. It was still charging at us, directly toward me, and there was no time to reload. I was about to bring my knife out until it leapt and made me fallback.

Fortunately for me, the ground was dry. Unfortunately, there is now a vicious blind dog bearing down on my body and trying to rip my throat and/or eat my face out in any order I should not be concerning myself with right now. My dumbfounded buddy is now trying to decide whether he should wrestle the dog off me, which by the way will set its attention on him, or shoot it, possibly killing me in the process. Yeah, good luck for him.

For me, however, attempting to dislodge agile animals off me was simple enough. The most effective area in stunning a dog is to hit the throat and wrestle it to the ground while repeatedly punching the fucker in the face. Yelling the most brutal swears you can think of also works better to your advantage with every hit, but that is optional.

To which I did, because I obviously don't want to die and punching things to death makes a great stress reliever. Plus, I get to work out my body since the Zone can be considered an extreme workout routine with everything and everyone trying to kill you. Even most of the artifacts you find generate radiation and will kill you slowly without another one to soak it up from your body. It's funny how a Firefly can heal AND poison you at the same time or a Snowflake giving you the stamina of an adrenaline junkie on crack while you suffer the withdrawals at the end. Not the best analogy, but I'm not a walking book full of puns and poetry.

"I think it's dead." Hm? What was that? "Bro, you don't need to keep smacking it anymore..."

When stopped at that statement, I look down to find my handy work bloodied and battered to the point where I did not notice my hands were starting to hurt until now.

Oh.

"Ow."

"Wow. Is that all you can say? 'Ow'?" He deadpanned, probably a self-defense mechanism for how freaked out he must be, and checked his mag when he realized he was standing there watching the whole time.

"Oh, shut up. It's not like you did anything to get it off me." I snapped back and picked myself up. Brushing the dirt off my body, along with wiping the blood off my knuckles, I fished out a mag from my coat pocket and reloaded my pistol. After that, I readjusted my backpack and ushered him to come.

"Let's get going while there is still light. I rather not stay out here when night comes around."

Wordlessly, he agreed and we set out to the Claw once more.

If I could ever call Zaton my home, I'd probably find it more comforting being here than from my previous stay at the Yanov station. I mean, it was great and everything until I got tired of the bantering between Duty and Freedom across the main room. The little war they were currently having didn't help me in my search as I, strangely enough, tend to be caught in almost every crossfire during my travels to the Quarry for a Firefly. Long story short, I got what I was looking for after a few visits but I ended up in the middle of another unwanted firefight with Duty and Freedom going at it again. At least they had the decency to warn me before they opened fire at each other. Yeah, I'm pretty sure "Get out of here, Stalker!" and "Dude, catch ya later for another blunt if you're not dead yet!" seems like a reaaaaaal legitimate warning for me right after the shooting begins. How I wish they stopped waving their dicks around and focus on the killer mutants plaguing the area. Fucking Bloodsuckers…

Oh well, just another day in the Zone.

"Looks like we're here," The rookie whose name I do not know pointed at the oddly shaped rock formation that resembled its namesake, hence the Claw. Wasting no time, we scanned around the area for anyone or anything only to meet a calm hum of Spingboards.

I checked my Compact again before we begin our search for artifacts and gestured to him that the coast was clear.

"Careful, there might be Snorks hanging around inside their nest. Let's just do our thing and get out." My head panned around for any signs of movement at the cavern. "God, I hate those things."

"Welcome to the club," he grunted and waved his detector at the Springboards.

A brief moment of silence, albeit the beeping from his Bear, lasted between us and I suddenly felt the urge to start talking again while I maneuver around the anomalies.

"I never got your name, by the way." I asked. "You a newbie here?"

A faint rush of air blew from his mouth as he turned his to me, "Ruslan Oleksander. How about you? Why do the people here call you 'Farmer'?"

"That is my last name. My first is Pavlo. Pavlo Yure." I mentioned it off-handedly. "I guess you can say I like to hang around the Farmstead to pick my 'crops', hence the name."

"Oh? Does that also explain why you never help others around?"

"Hey, I mind my own business. Do you think I will just rush into a fight without a good reason?" I had to put away my gun and detector in order to climb the Claw and reach for that one artifact on top of the peak. "And even if I do have one, what makes you think I'm doing it out of the goodness of my heart? The Zone does not just let everyone walk away unscathed. Here, you have to make hard choices if you want to stay alive and get rich."

Avoiding that one Springboard next to me, I took out my Veles and out comes a Wrenched popping from another existence. I don't know how that is possible, but I'm not going to bother with physics. Science made it happened. There.

"I heard rumors about you," Ruslan called from below, scooping a Gravi off the floor. "They say you would kill anyone for an artifact just by pushing them into an anomaly once they found it."

A wave of frustration (and possibly nausea) washed over me when I heard him say that. I gritted my teeth slightly instead of answering right away. Only one dot remained on the screen when my eyes veered toward it.

"So, is it true?"

"Is what true?"

"That you push people into anomalies?"

. . .

"Where did you get that from?" I asked him, keeping myself cool from snapping out of annoyance.

"I overheard Magpie mention it to his hunting friends." Oh, him. "Before he kicked it after Gonta found him."

I let out a large sigh to let him know how irritated I am before speaking again, "No, I do not push people into anomalies just to steal their artifacts. I never killed anyone beside the bandits here. Also, Magpie was a shit-eating liar who didn't know how to keep his filthy hole for a mouth shut. Now, is there anything else you want to know about me, hmmmm!?"

Gah, I hate it when I get testy over small things. Some are easy to ignore, but when it comes out wrong I get easily upset.

"Alright, alright, chill bro! I'm just making sure you're not a psycho or anything." Yeah, that is putting it very lightly.

I climbed down the sloped peak, making sure not to touch the floating Springboard, and landed on the ground next to Oleksander peering into the empty cavity filled with more anomalies. The sound of our Geiger counters clicked at a nearly fast pace the more we got closer to it. Note to self: remember to buy rad-pro pills next time. Anti-rad shots can only last me so far and they are not easy to find.

Ruslan rubbed his hands together, "Seems like we're done for the day."

"Nope," I shook my head and pointed at the screen of my detector, "only one more left."

"Then what are you waiting for? Go get it." He flicked his head to reinforce the message.

Instead, I just stared at him with a devious glint in my eyes while I offered the detector to him. "I have a better idea. Why don't you get it for yourself? Score something big. I bet you it's a Goldfish."

This took him by surprise at my generous offer, given so freely and out of nowhere that he could only manage a suspicious glare directed at me. "H-how do I know this isn't a-a trick?"

My face formed a smirk behind the balaclava while I gestured him to take it. "You want me to prove how trustworthy I am, then go for it. I'll even give you an anti-rad once you're out. You can still walk, right?"

"Y-yes…"

"Good. Just get the artifact while I cover you. Better make it fast; it is starting to get dark now."

He looked at the screen, then to the pit, then at me, and back at the screen again. Judging from the nervous glances casted around I say he was a bit hesitant to go in there. Looks like I'll have to prod him a bit more.

"Look, if you don't want it then I can just take it and-"

"No, no. I'll do it." He snatched the Veles out of my hand, then jab his index at my chest. "This better not be a trick."

"Oh, believe me, it's not. I'm just getting tired of people accusing me for a backstabber. Once they figured someone in my group, provided it is just the two of us, actually manage to live and score a whopping rare artifact, I won't have to deal with those assholes glaring at me anymore." My explanation left him with an eyebrow raised. "See what I mean?"

With a heavy sigh, Ruslan threw a bolt to find an opening. Once that is done, he carefully climbed down the Claw's cavity pit and continued to fling another one while checking on the Veles I let him borrowed.

"Oh, and when you're done making sure you don't die horribly in there, I would like to have my detector back." I called out.

"Haha fuck you." He replied back.

"Thanks." I glanced up at the sky. The sun had just set and it was only a matter of time before the spooks of the night come out to play. I wasn't planning on staying out here any longer if he took his time. Even if I don't get my Veles back, I can find another exo-zombie later and replace it.

"Got it!" Well, about time. "You were right, it is a Goldfish!"

"Swell. Now climb out so we can get the hell out of here. I think I heard some growling from the cave." My eyes kept looking towards the entrance of the Snork tunnel as I flick the setting to automatic just in case. "Once we get back to Skadovsk, cash it or keep it. I don't care. Standing near the radiation is making me feel like shit."

I'll worry more about cancer later. All I want now is to make like a tree and fucking leave.

Looking back down, I noticed he was near the edge and help pulled him up rather hastily. He winced a little from the sudden tug, but said nothing to me.

"Good." I took an anti-rad shot out and give it to him. "This will flush out all the radioactive crap and then some. Can we go now?"

The distant snarls echoed out of the cave as a cue for us to make a fucking run it as the first gas-masked horror came leaping out for its first meal of the day.

"OH FUCK!" Both of us yelled in unison.

"Oh fuck," I breathed a sigh of relief while leaning against the now sealed bulkhead door. Some of the early arrivals chuckled at me before returning back to whatever they were doing.

Pricks.

"Here." A Veles detector was shoved back in my hands. "Thanks for the help, partner."

Ruslan walked away to the bar, probably selling the artifact he got (with my help, of course) while I stood away from the door and opted for the wall instead. A few painful seconds from a needle stinging my thigh and I felt fresh as rain all over again. Discarding the used shot in a garbage can, my tired legs carried me to the now empty counter as I place all the artifacts I found, except for the Mama's Beads, and let Beard do the calculations.

"Do you want it as electronic transfer or cash?" Beard asked.

"Cash," I replied, "Full cash, please."

He examined my findings and took them in one by one, placing two considerable stacks of Rubles that netted me 11,200. Add that up with the 10,000 and it is 21,200 RUs. I still have to leave out the larger portion to pay Nimble.

"So, I heard you helped a rookie find a rare artifact, is that right?" Damn him and his cheeky grin.

The only words he could elicit out of me were a few grunts that sounded like "The usual meal" and "Stop patronizing me" while I shoved most of the earnings inside my coat pockets and left some amount to pay for my food. Beard took the sum, making sure to count the amount, and took out a loaf of bread, an unopened Tourist's Breakfasts, and a bottle of water from underneath the counter. I took a gander around and saw that all the tables were packed with stalkers I don't know, newbies hanging out with their groups, and the occasional bandits that I recognized giving me the finger.

"You can eat here; I don't mind. Just scoot on the side and then we'll have a friendly chit-chat." His cheerful expression was plastered all over his face as if he's Santa Claus coming to greet the children. Looking at a guy who accepts bandits here, I wouldn't be surprised.

I turned my body around to face him, all in a while trying to open the can with a Swiss army knife, and muttered more incoherent words at him.

"So," he began. "How is that collection going for you?"

"Fine." I answered back in monotone. The top was cut opened and I look down to see a familiar sight inside.

Mystery meat again, oh goody; might as well get it over with and hope the bread makes it taste better than last time.

. . .

. . .

"You know, I kept hearing about your run-in with Awl and Petruha from the other stalkers in the area. Awl told me you got him out of the Boiler Anomaly yesterday when an emission started and led them to a small cave…"

Shit.

He's talking about the hideout next to the Farmstead I found while exploring. That place could have been my secret spot, similar to the Substation underground room in Jupiter, if it weren't for those two. Ever since Snag disappeared from the Yanov station, I've been using his secret stash room with the safe. How do I know where it is? Simple: I followed him. If I remembered correctly, a couple loners mentioned about a stalker's personal box being looted by Snag and he somehow found the snake-in-the-grass at the abandoned Substation. In the end he got off easily and continued to live that day, but not without returning all the shit he took. Last I saw him, he was still hanging around the Duty occupied area and left without anyone noticing the next day. After that incident, I went to check on his stash and was surprised that he didn't bother to take them with him. Being the good stalker that I am, I secured the old place, called it my own and put some furniture in like a mattress and some makeshift shelves. An awesome safe house, if I could say so myself. I wonder if anyone found it yet.

"…and I couldn't believe that you would threaten them to keep it a secret or else you will pour vodka inside their rifle barrels." He exclaimed in humor. Damn it, I told them to keep their trap shut. Now everyone is going to pay attention to me.

"I… wasn't actually serious when I said it." The mystery meat was scooped and spread inside the open pocket of the bread. Why couldn't it be tuna salad yesterday? There are no freaking labels on these things.

Beard gave a hearty laugh and gave me a hard pat on the shoulder, much to my inner cringing, and leaned back to catch his breath for a while. All in all, my legs were still sore from having to run so much from the pack of Snorks and are ready to give out from the constant standing.

"I wish you put chairs in this place," I muttered at him even though the noise of conversation drowned it out. One of my fingers tugs the mask down so I can eat.

"What was that?"

"I didn't say anything." I lied, taking a bite from my mystery sandwich. "Probably your imagination."

At least the taste is better.

"Nothing to worry about, then." Beard flashed another one of his jovial smile, whereas I only showed a bored frown to hide my annoyance. I may never understand how he can be so happy in this environment. Barkeep and Sidorovich hardly smiles let alone crack a joke, and this guy is all sunshine and vodka. I can be happy, too, but not THIS happy.

"By the way, any sign of Nimble?" I asked him. Another bite from the sandwich and it now tasted like chicken. Huh.

Beard nodded his head and pointed upstairs. "In a matter of fact, he just got back from his trip to smuggle a special package. Business has been thriving for all of us after someone took care of the mutant problems. The bandits have been behaving themselves as well; I've never seen Sultan so lax before. Perhaps these changes will benefit us for a long, if not temporary, term. Don't you agree?"

Always the optimistic one when it comes to moments like these, especially when those moments don't last too long and someone important winds up dead or worse. Sometimes, I see something in his eyes… almost like he's planning something big but he doesn't have to move a finger like Sultan. Despite the obvious, even you perplex me, Beard.

"We'll have to see what happens next." I responded.

Scarfing the rest of the food down, I twisted the cap of my water bottle and sipped for a repeated amount of time until I emptied the entire contents. Throwing that away somewhere, I backed from the counter and made my leave upstairs to conduct important businesses in hopes of scoring something big of my own soon.

"Take care, now! Skadovsk isn't going anywhere. Hahahaha!"

Right…

"Next!"

Professor Colbert signaled for the next student to commence their summoning while they are outside on the field. So far, so good for this term's Springtime Familiar Summoning Ritual exam with all the second years lining up to receive the familiar that represents their true self by invoking the given incantation rite. Seeing how everything is going smoothly for now, he has no doubt that once everyone have completed the summoning and get to know their familiars will things take an interesting turn of event in the upcoming exhibition.

Well, almost everyone.

As he watched the line go by, he had noticed that Louise was last in line and seems to be nervous about how her summoning will go. The lack of ability to cast proper magic on her part validates her tension, and yet she still put up a mask of pride to hide her fear of failure and ridicule. Despite his blank expression, he did sympathize with her reason of worry of what might become the greatest disaster if she were to fail. If only there was an answer to why her results were different than the rest of the students who could manage their casting just fine. Of course, it was a big mystery that he himself could not solve much like Old Osmand's true age.

For now, he will have to do with continuing the ritual and see if anything changes for her.

At the end of line, Louise was doing her best not to show any signs of emotional weakness because her pride as a noble and the Rule of Steel would not allow her to breakdown. She will accomplish her exam and show everyone that she is not a zero that they think of her as. The familiar reflects the mage, and with her effort and poise her familiar will make them all respect her as their equal, no, as their better. None shall compare with her magnificence that not even her eternal rival, the cursed Kirche, will have any more playful insults to spew. If Louise could bring upon herself to hope more upon Brimir's will, it might as well be the fact that her summoning awed everyone so much that even her barbaric Germanian arch-nemesis' breasts shrank down to a flat board. If only it were possible to harness all that power just to do that.

But really, she hoped her summoning would bring out the ultimate proof that she is indeed NOT a Zero at the beginning.

"Well, if it isn't Louise the Zero." Damn that harlot and her flapping chest fat. "Getting ready for the summoning ritual, I see. As you can tell, mine went splendidly well."

The sickening sweet voice of seduction that is Kirche Augusta Frederica von Anhalt-Zerbst grated on her nerves the more she spoke to her. It didn't help her mind that next to the Germanian fire mage was in fact a red salamander with a ball of fire at the end of its tail. As much as she hated to admit it, the filthy barbarian's familiar did look like it would garner admirers without effort, not nearly close as Tabitha's dragon though. The thought of it did put her mind at some ease, but it wasn't fully extinguished since 'The Ardent' was clearly not done mocking her just yet.

Remember, Louise, Rule of Steel. Let nothing impede you.

"I am very curious of what your summoning will end up, Louise." The dark skinned red head mentioned in teasing tone. "I wonder if it will be a bigger explosion than usual."

Rule of steel!

"Hmph! I will not be defeated by the likes of you, Von Zerbst! For today is the day I will summon forth a familiar that will not only trump yours, but will grant the well-deserved respect that I have lacked for all those years of mockery! Soon, there will be no zero but a noble mage that I am myself to be."

Kirche laughed at her grand speech, "Hohohoho~, such a big talk from someone so small! Do yourself a favor, Louise, and give up while you still can. There is no point in humiliating yourself any further because of where you stand."

Rule of Steel!

"Besides, you can never satisfy an audience with just explosions! I, Kirche the Ardent, will always be the greatest appeal than you." She prop her ample chest up for her to see. "For you are, and will always be, the flattest of them all."

Louise, ever being so temperamental, clenched her teeth in the deepest rage growing ever so steadily as she watched the fire mage rejoin her friend to watch the event. There were days when Louise wanted to curl up in a ball and cry her eyes out because of her failures, and then there were also days when she wanted to curse that blasted harlot all the way to oblivion for pushing the most sensitive topic down her throat. This is one of the latter.

RULE OF STEEL!

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T HAVE ANY CROWBARS!?" I shouted in pure outrage. Standing there before me, Owl's expression did not change at the slightest movement as if it was another day for him. In the most bored/annoyed tone he could muster, this is what he has to say.

"Does it look like I run a tool shop? If you want tools, go find them elsewhere. I sell necessary supplies to stalkers, not construction workers. Now are you going buy something or stand there like an idiot?"

"You're lucky I even bothered buying from you." I grumbled.

"You're lucky I even tolerate customers like you without shooting them." He shot back without missing a beat.

Well, he got me there. Still, the rat bastard always charge ammunition prices like crazy. At least guns are cheaper now that the military decided to take five and go back to watching TV inside their guard posts, until something goes wrong.

A few more seconds of glowering happening between us made me wish for bubblegum. I'm not going to ask if he sells those because of the obvious and since Beard doesn't stock candy; the same goes for every stalker I pass by other than a pack of smokes. I heard playing guitars helps pass the time, but I don't know how to do that. What about a harmonica? They're easy to learn, just have to blow some air in the holes and make some music. There is also the need for more mags and 5.45x39mm bullets since I am going to stop by Cardan's workshop to pick up my AC-96/2 next before heading to Nimble's 'office'.

"Are you done staring off like a statue yet?" Owl droned and flipped another page from an unspecified magazine while I was in the middle of my silent monologue.

I really have to stop doing that.

"3 boxes (60 bullets per box) of 5.45x39, 3 empty mags for an AC-96 and a harmonica…" Am I forgetting something? "…Oh! And get me two sets of radioprotectants along with a GP-25 launcher, five VOG-25s, and a PSU-1 scope."

Even though he casted a raised brow at the harmonica part, Owl just kept quiet and went for his shelves to check the inventory. Not a minute sooner, he placed all of what I asked for on the counter and totaled up the prices before his nasally depressing voice perturbed my ears once more.

"12,340 RUs," The trench coat shopkeeper went back to reading, not giving a damn to watch. He wouldn't have to worry since stalkers here don't take kindly to shoplifters.

A small stack of bills was slapped down and I waited for him to count the amount before leaving. As expected, he took the notes and counted them briefly then waved me off which meant "Take your shit and leave me alone."

"Don't let the door hit you." He sounded off his usual chime as I walked out the door with my purchases in hand. After I packed the bullets and whatnots into the bag, I rolled my eyes as his next customer came in which happens to be a skinny bandit who 'accidently' bumps into me without any apologies.

What a nice guy.

Onward to Cardan then.

Making my way on the right, I could see Cardan is being… himself, again. Just without the drinking. Somehow, he went sober after someone persuaded him otherwise. His prices for repairs are a quarter cut than what he would usually charge, but mine is still cheaper. Modding is still his forté, which I lacked. Right now, it seems like he is in the middle of repairing someone's gun. I should take advantage of this.

"Hey, dude!" I exclaimed in a rather bogus surfer voice, "I totally, like, broke my shooter and shit so I'm going to need you to fix it."

His head shot up with an annoyed scowl on his face until he saw me chuckling and pointing my finger at him. Cardan shook his head with a huff and returned back to his work. He thumbed at a gun leaning against the wall next to him. "Your rifle is ready, boy. I already installed the upgrades for durability, recoil, and fire rate. Take good care of it, alright?"

"Yes, dad." I went over to pick it up, noting his self-mumbling once I said my thanks.

Last stop is Nimble's delivery office before I take care of my own business for tomorrow and get some shut-eye. At least I get to add another artifact to my collection. After all, I only need a Jellyfish, Flame, Night Star, Eye, Snowflake, Sparkler, Flash, Soul, Compass, Kolobok, and a Goldfish if I hadn't let that rookie take it; too bad someone already found the Heart of Oasis. Smuggling them out will be a hassle if I don't come up with a large sum to pay.

Hey, maybe Nimble might help me. He did say about having connections. Would one of them help me smuggle a crate of illegal artifacts and military equipment? I hope so. I want to have my own secret display of good shit underneath my crappy looking house so no one would be the wiser.

"Howdy-ho!" Ugh, why does everyone say that? We're not cowboys. "I see you've come for your package, am I right?"

"Howdy-" FUCK! "I mean, hey Nimble. Yeah, I got the cash. Let's see what you got." I rubbed the back of my head, giving a brief yawn. "So, what is it?"

Nimble tapped a small wooden crate that he has been using as a foot rest. "This, my friend, is the armor I've been talking about. It's been through toils of combat and is the ultimate protection for shootouts and anomalies. Fully repaired and upgraded by its previous owner, this suit will benefit you greatly on the long run."

I held on to the money when he stretched his hand out for it. "Can't I at least see it first before I pay you? It's only fair since I don't know what I'm getting."

"Oh, right. Sure, no problem buddy. But remember, if you don't take it, the next purchase will add up more money; a fair warning for all buying clients."

He got up from his seat and produced a- HOLY SHIT, is that what I think it is?

It is!

The arms dealer wedged the slanted end of the crowbar in between and pried the lid off with a mighty wrench. Once he has finished doing that, he kicked the lid off and allowed me to see what's inside.

. . .

. . .

. . .

"Well, what do you think?" He asked.

. . .

. . .

"What exactly am I looking at?"

Nimble held up a folded suit with a olive gray tactical Kevlar vest that look it has been padded with extra plates, modified with a chest rig intended to hold mags, and looped with a pouch belt at the bottom meant to hold artifacts, from my assumption. The shirt itself was a sky blue and white camouflage with unfamiliar shoulder patches on both sides that resembled a shield with two white birds flying up from opposite directions behind a rising sun, below it came a strewn ribbon that clearly reads-

"Clear Sky." Whatever air was left in my lungs were already out as soon as I read those words. I have never heard of an organization called that, let alone, a smart watch, but they sound just right. Clear Sky. An omen I believed in, a good omen. Calm before the emission comes. But what does this mean? Was this a coincidence? Does Duty or Freedom know of these people?

Does anyone else know of them or where they came from?

"Heh-hehe-heh…"

. . .

In front of me, Nimble let out a nervous laugh as he saw me stare intently at the crest. His throat clearing manage to snap me out of my trance as I gaze up at him. For a moment, he seemed tense as if he was hiding something. I grabbed him by the shoulders and looked him in the eye as my voice continued to remain hoarse.

"It's perfeeeeeect!" The words wheezed through my mouth as I could barely contain my excitement. Letting him go, I shoved the money in his hand and went for the loot. Damn, it has Kevlar layers around the arms and legs, metal kneepads, dark pants of whatever blackish color, tactical gloves, and even a pair of hiking boots! My old ones were starting to wear out. How considerate of him.

What's this, some kind of old steel helmet of the sort? I see it comes with a pair of large goggles and a gas mask. Good, now I won't have to smell the gas anomalies every time I pop a pill.

"Uh, uhhh," I didn't notice the odd look Nimble was giving me, nor did was I really paying attention to his loss of words but it sounded like he was having a moment of relief.

"So, um, how do you like it?" He gestured at the armored uniform. "I got it off a merc who found something better to wear so he sold it to me. Everything on it is modified with extra protection from pistol to medium rifle rounds, ruptures, impacts, explosions… nearly everything that will last! It provides all minimal anomaly protection so you won't have to worry about wading through unprepared, container slots large enough to hold three artifacts, and it also has 1st generation night vision integrated in the goggles. Pretty slick, if I say so."

Huh, what about night vision?

"I thought First Generation night vision is shit." I replied.

"Don't worry; it's an updated version." Nimble reassured. "Clearer like the current Second Generation, but darker as well; think of it as a past improvement."

I didn't know you could even modify an existing model.

"So what is this suit called?" I inquired Nimble about the product. From my perspective it seems to be an antique version of those merc suits, but specialized for Zone activities. Was Clear Sky some kind of para-military like the mercenaries?

"CS-1a model; very light and sturdy for special operations. I know the steel helmet may not help you much, but at least the gas mask can be fitted inside. Plus, you even have a hood." He pointed it out. Indeed, it does.

At least I feel protected now.

"You want to order anything else?" He asked me while I put everything away in the box.

"Yes, there is. Can I buy that crowbar from you?"

. . .

"Sure… 300 RU."

"Deal!"

"Is that everyone?" Colbert glanced around to see if anyone else was left until he spotted the last student coming up with a prideful stride. "Ah, Miss Valliére, you're the last to go so best of luck to you."

"Unless it blows up in her face like the rest of her spells!" Someone called out in the crowd, causing a fit of stifled laughter amongst their peers.

"Now, settle down students." He ordered them to keep it quiet and then turned to Louise. "Miss Valliére, you may begin when you are ready."

This was her chance to prove her potential! Louise nodded and concentrates her focus on the summoning rite while anyone nearby backed away farther; some readied themselves to make a run for it when the time comes. Kirche still had that smug grin on her face and Tabitha was… being herself as always. Everyone anticipated the obvious fact that it will end up in another explosive failure. But for her, she thought otherwise.

"My name is Louise Françoise Le Blancde La Valliére. Pentagon of the five elemental powers, heed my summoning…" The strawberry-blonde girl begins her incantation.

"This is going to be good." Kirche whispered next to her friend, while the quiet Gallian kept her eyes on the opened book. Others were muttering to one another on how this spell will go to the point of even betting whether it would end up as another explosion or not.

"…grant forth my servant that is of this vast universe…"

Professor Colbert frowned slightly at the altered verse of the summoning rite, but said nothing as he continued to watch his student finish the ritual. Perhaps these few changes might be interesting to watch.

"…my divine, beautiful, wise, powerful servant that shall heed my call…"

"Hey Louise, you're doing it wrong!" Malicorne called out abruptly. She ignored or was too focused to pay any attention toward any outside disturbance and was near the finale of the ritual.

"…bring forth this creature and let it be bind as my familiar that shall need my guidance!" At last the finishing verse was done and Louise waved her wand dramatically, expecting her familiar's grand appearance to take place at an instant. A couple seconds went by and nothing happened as the time continues to pass silently. No explosions, much to her small relief, but it didn't seem like the summoning had done its job as she expected it to be; quite literally, nothing at all.

How could this be!?

Tears of shame threatened to leak from her eyes as she hung her head low and awaited the taunts from her tormenters. A few students got the hint and were now pointing fingers at her misfortunes as they jeered her mocking title again and gain.

"I always knew she was always a Zero!" One of the few commented aloud.

"Once a zero, always a Zero!"

"At least nothing exploded this time…"

How am I going to explain to mother of my expulsion?

"Hey, what is that blue ball floating in the air?" Louise's head shot up at the mentioning and veered her head toward the strange phenomenon taking the sport of where she pointed her wand to.

Colbert's eyes stared at the small shimmering orb before him, mesmerized by its erratic patterns of colors that changes every passing second. Everyone was amazed by its pretty mixture that it even garnered the attention of the usually stoic Tabitha, who could only raise her eyebrows in surprise.

"It's so beautiful," Montmorency was dazzled at the mysterious wonder.

"Just like you…" Her fiancée, Guiche, added, was also fascinated by its glamorous glow.

Everyone was so entranced with the floating ball of light that they temporarily forgotten about Louise or even registered her presence when she waved her hand in front of them.

"I don't understand, just what is it?" She questioned its unknown origin and was about to get closer when it instantly turned into a full of shade of red and started growing bigger. The mages, struck off by its sudden violent impulse, had soon forgotten the orb's beauty and began to back away while keeping a constant watch at its changes when thunderous noises erupted and streaks of lightning can be seen sparking from the volatile object.

Even when it stopped growing, the surface rippled and ruptured as if some part of it was about to break off. The crackling still did not stop as the students were beginning to panic at the possible danger it could pose to them when the ground started rumbling.

"By Brimir! This is the end of us as we know it!" A student cried and ran off to the nearest cover.

"Oh God, it's going to explode! The orb is going to explode!"

"This is all your fault, Louise!" The pudgy blond kid shouted, tripping over a first year attempting to get inside the building.

Louise could only stare helplessly at the shifting ball that pulsated at a rapid pace and shut her eyes for the inevitable to come. This was her fate, she supposed. To perish underneath the anomaly threatening to envelope her form and wipe out every form of existence that she held inside.

Unbeknownst to her, at the very last moment before her untimely demise, the orb shrunk down all the way to the size of a fruit and was still. Everything around her was still at that point: the tears running her cheeks, the frozen expressions of terror from her classmates, Professor Colbert hopelessly covering himself with only his arms and the staff in his hand for protection.

It seemed like she had really done it bad this time.

What felt like eternity soon resumed back into reality when the red orb imploded itself, sending forth a shockwave like no other. The grass was blown back while students and teacher alike were flung in the air before landing roughly on the ground. As for Louise, being the nearest of the source, only felt a soft push and landed on her bottom, strangely enough.

When the horrible shrieking finally stopped, Louise thought to herself that she died quickly until she realized everything on her body felt fine. In fact, she felt as if a small gust of wind blew over her and that was it. Slowly, she opened her eyes and could only see a shadowy figure covered behind the cloud of smoke created from her handy work. It was tall and held a sinister shape that left her with a brief sense of chills when it got closer. She could hear its ragged breathing and wanted to squirm away in fear that whatever she summoned might inflict harm upon anyone it sees, but chose to stand up and face it despite her mind screaming to run away while there is still a chance. Of course, she could not allow cowardice on her part. Why should the master be afraid of a familiar she had just summoned?

When some of the cloud finally cleared, Louise peered at the figure looming over her and paled at what she saw that made her resume back to being frightened again. A single black panel on what looks to be its eyes(?) held her reflection as the oddly clothed, if she could call them as such, creature stood there in a daze, clutching the side of its head while eliciting a loud groan. Louise kept staring, not believing her eyes at what she had brought forth and continued to examine this strange being that can stand on two legs, yet it looked really hideous. She held her breath when the thing turned its attention to her and also stared with a slight tilt by its head as if it too was trying to figure out what she is. The two held it for a while and said nothing to each other, observing each other like a specimen behind a steel cage whilst most of the smoke were now gone and three more figures appear near her. She paid no mind to them, only wanting to make sense of what she was seeing.

Maybe she summoned some kind of humanoid insect, which sort of explains the odd mouthpiece it was sporting. But if it is really an insect, where are the extra appendages or the feelers? She only saw four limbs and a head… unless it's wearing some kind of chitin armor with pockets that is hiding the other arms. Some of the extra bits on it look to be straps of some kind with an oddly shaped metal tool hanging on the right hip. The white and blue pattern on its arms might indicate a new species. The metallic objects sticking out of the front pockets eludes her.

"Uhh…." Is it trying to communicate with her? "Khto ty? De ya?"

"Huh?" She gaped at the odd use of words it was speaking. "What did you say?"

. . .

"Chomu vy hovoryte po -frantsuzʹky?" The insect man, based on how deep his voice was, spoke more nonsense that sounded like a question. "Chy ye tse Paryzh?"

Great, he doesn't understand the Tristanian language. A translation spell will be needed before the man-bug can properly address the mage and see to his master's needs. Perhaps she can-

"Shcho tse, chort vizʹmy!?" A shrill, reedy voice holding the same dialect screeched out, causing Louise and anyone that had not been knocked out by the strong wave to cringe. "DE TUT?"

The foul stench of burnt tar reached her nose and she gagged at the strong smell plaguing the air as the young girl backed away from the likely source dressed in a black hooded coat attire that screamed ' filthy commoner'. A cloth mask revealing his green eyes and stubble mouth showed some form of confusion and panic when he first saw her hair and pointed at it.

"Khto vona? Chomu yiyi volossya v rozhevyy kolir?" The smelly commoner babbled in the same language, probably directed at the bug-man.

The armored man shrugged and shook his head.

"Hitobito wa, anata daredesuka?" And it seems like there is another one! Why couldn't she catch a break? Louise whipped her head around to see two other individuals having a conversation with each other. One of them was dressed similarly like the first one but is colored with a darker shade of blue than its counterpart, plus it was missing the dome on its head. The other person was also like the commoner judging from his apparel, but is younger than the rest of them with his blue eyes and black hair. Judging from the appearance of the three figures, excluding the boy, they are likely human and men from some unknown barbarian country she probably never heard of. Perhaps they came from Germania?

"Koko de okonatte Nihon no shōnen wa nanidesu ka?" The helmetless man spoke to him just as fluently that it surprised the younger commoner, who spoke back excitingly in rapid succession.

"Anata wa watashi no gengo o hanasu koto ga dekiru?" The boy's panicked expression eased when the fellow nodded.

"Hai, soshite yori ōku no." He pointed at Louise. "Chōdo kanojo ga sukidesu."

Just what are they talking about? And why is this lowly commoner pointing so rudely at her? Does he not know that he is in the presence of a noble?

Louise noticed the first man she was talking to was now off collecting objects strewn around the area, muttering to himself more incoherent gibberish as he picked up a large pack that could hold an abundance of items inside and wore it on his back. Two objects were strapped on both sides with the left one almost resembling a musket rifle. She then watched him pick up a black metal rifle that had some parts sticking out of which she could not describe and even ignored her when she asked about it. After a while, her mood began to turn sour when she heard the barbed calls from the students behind her back and bundled her hands into fists.

"Who would have thought Louise the Zero could summon commoners," One jeered loudly, "especially a bunch of horribly dressed commoners who can't even speak properly!"

Kirche, despite having been blown away from the strong blast just recently, added her own taunt in the mix, "Leave it to a Zero to summon more Zeroes!"

The hooded commoner was rather confused at the sudden turn of event and sat down against a large metal box to ponder on the given situation he was in. The bug-man was too busy gathering his things and stacking them in one spot to pay any attention on what is going on, whiles the boy and the other bug-man stood there silently to watch the whole scenario play it out.

"Miss Valliére, you must finish the ritual." Professor Colbert leaned shakily against his staff when he experienced the worse bashing of his life and slowly hobbled over to get a better look at the four minding themselves. "Hm… interesting…"

"But which one do I choose?" Louise felt pressured as she watched them attend to their business. "How do I tell which one is my true familiar?"

This made him pause at the given question, prompting him to glance around at them for a moment before turning to his student with a straight face. "All of them are your familiars."

"What!? But how is that possible?" She exclaimed.

"I am not too sure myself, but since you have summoned all four of them in one casting, the only reasonable conclusion is this." Colbert explained carefully. "So in order to finish the summoning ritual, you must bind all four as your familiars."

The girl glanced nervously at them and hesitantly nodded before she called for their attention.

"All of you commoners come to me!" She announced loudly for them to hear and raised her wand up in the air.

"What is she saying this time?" Hiraga Saito quietly asked the gas masked mercenary next to him.

"She wants all of us to come toward her." The man held his hands behind his back and shouted at the other two stalkers nearby. "You two, get over here. The girl wants us to gather around."

"What? Why? I don't know her." I called over my shoulder and placed the last book on the pile. "I don't even know where we are, let alone, any of these weird people."

"That girl, she reminds me of my daughter…" Shishak mentioned to himself. "…probably the same age too. Yes, possibly, minus the pink hair dye and contact lenses."

"I don't think these people even know what those are. I mean, look at them. If this is some kind of freaky-shit cult Harry Potter school, then that would probably explain the castle." I noted the assorted amount of ridiculous hair color amongst the crowd of kids and some of the freaky looking animals amongst the normal house pet ones. "Also, get off my supply crate asshole."

"Give me the artifacts then." He replied smugly.

"When Fleshes fly, prick." I shot back.

"Both of you shut up and walk your asses over here!" Oh, seems like the merc is getting annoyed. I wouldn't want to keep him waiting unless I want a bullet in the head.

"Alright, fine! Jeez!" I threw my hands up and went toward him. "But this better not involve drenching ourselves in blood and shoving a stick up our asses!"

If I could see his eyes, I bet you he'd be rolling them at my stupid comment. Good, let him think I'm an idiot so he doesn't get the chance to kill me in my sleep when that comes. I can't trust the mercenaries and bandits when they're close to me and within firing distance. I can't trust nobody in the Zone at all!

. . .

Huh, maybe that's why I don't have any friends…

"Are your friends like this all the time?" The boy gestured toward me and the Shishak. "It seems like the one in the white and blue suit has a few screws loose in his head."

"They are not my 'friends'. I was hired to take one of them out and capture the other." He responded in a formal manner. "And don't worry about him, he is harmless… sometimes."

"Oh, so you are an assassin, Merc-san?"

"No no, just a mercenary. An assassin would take pride in their jobs, while a merc does it because it is a job to do." The merc pointed to himself. "Like me, I do it just for the money. No questions asked. No loyalty held but to yourself."

Pfft, yeah keep talking in that moon language. They're probably talking shit about me. Hell, I bet he can speak more languages than we know and put in subtle insults every time he feels like it. Bah, I'll just do what he says for now and get this over with.

"I suppose it is better than doing nothing," Shishak agreed, got up, and followed me from behind, much to my chagrin.

As much as I feel a slight discomfort of letting that rat out of my sights, I'm willing to weigh more on needs than wants just to understand what the hell is going on. Or was that the other way around? Meh, no time to think about it now, let see what this girl wants from us.

As we all gathered to one spot, the pink haired girl (god, she looks like the bossy type) strides over toward us four and starts talking in her French speak once again. I don't understand what the hell she was talking about and I still don't understand her now when she pointed at her head then to ours. What, does she want us to take off our helmets or something?

"She wants us to take off the helmet and masks," the merc said to us via translation and started to unstrap his gas mask.

Oh.

. . .

Hey, wait a minute… why does she want us to take off our masks? Something's wrong and I don't like where this heading to. Is she going to splash acid in my eyes? I hope not. That shit burns.

The boy doesn't need to remove anything on his face since, well, he wasn't wearing anything on his face or head to begin with. I know that's really obvious. Good kid. Out of place in this area, but so are we. I wonder if he has heard of the Zone.

Shishak removed his ski-mask and revealed a rather charming face much to my surprise. I always assume he was ugly underneath the mask, but goddamn look at that angular chin! And his eyes! He looks like a blond pretty boy, holy shit. He could get a lot of chicks if he didn't smoke so much and steal other people's shit including me.

The mercenary took his gas mask off and showed a square mullet build with his cheeks and nose being okay. He's not half bad, but those hard blue eyes give me the creeps when I looked at them. His expression is kind of stone faced, but he could probably beat someone to death with that look he seems to bore. I don't see much about his hair besides a few tufts sticking out of his balaclava, so it looks like he got some jet black on his head.

As for me, yeah, good luck with that. I ain't removing my helmet. You want my face? Here's half of it. You don't like it? Well too fucking bad for you.

"Thank god for fitted gas masks." I felt around for a release strap after lifting the helmet a little and unlatched it. With that out of the way, only half of my face was exposed to the world that I did not know of. I admit, five o' clock shadows are rugged and cool, but they can be a bitch to clean out sometimes. If I have the time, I might have to shave it off so I can eat bread without the crumbs getting stuck on my chin.

The look on that girl's face means she wasn't amused by my smart moves. Oh, sorry there. No acids in my eyes this time.

"Why not take the entire helmet off?" The bandit seems to find it funny. See, I'm not the only one with a sense of humor.

Wait, did I just agree with him? No wait, never mind…

There she goes again, speaking in that language as if I can totally comprehend everything she is saying. She looks crossed at me. Mhm, yes, she definitely looks crossed with me. But it's so cute when she looks like that. I'm not so sure about the pink eyes, though. It's really… unnatural, but at the same time who am I to complain? She looks just dainty with them.

"Je vous ordonne de prendre votre casque!" She barked in that adorable voice as if she was telling me what to do.

"She wants you to remove the helmet." Jacque the merc (Not really his name, but I at least need to call him something until then) said to me.

"Hahaha, NO." I gave her a shit eating grin and shook my head. "I don't take orders from you, little miss pinky."

"Ce est un ordre, roturière!" Aww, her cheeks are puffing. Where's my camera? This would go well with my collection of 'People who are pissed off at me'.

"Nope." My head shook again. Meanwhile, the crowd of school kids behind her has started to laugh at her incompetence. Like I said, I don't know what they're saying but it must be pretty hilarious for them. The short book girl with the glasses doesn't seem to be joining in, though. Eh, good for her.

Suddenly, the girl whipped out a wooden stick that might as well reinforce my claims that this world is definitely a parody of Harry Potter. All I could do was laugh at her threat while the others looked at me like I was crazy.

"Oh, good lord, this is rich!" I cackled at her attempt to intimidate me. "This is just fucking rich! Look at this thing, guys! It's a wand!"

The Japanese boy leaned over to the merc and muttered more of his moon-speak at him, to which the man nodded after he was done and Shishak just stood there like it was another day in the Zone.

For me, however, I was too busy enjoying myself by making fun of the girl who was so pissed at me that I swear her face couldn't get any more redder than the busty redhead watching the scene with her rambunctious laugh.

"Aww, is the wittle girl mad? Does she want a wollipop? Does she now? Oh, does she no- UCK!" Did she just kick me in the balls? Looking down, I did notice that she had indeed kicked me right in the cash and prizes. Shit, she kicked like a horse!

"Urrrgh, fuuuuuuuuuuuck!" I could only hold whatever was left of my dignity and take it standing while bent over. The urge to scream more profanities was tempting, but I rather laugh it off then make her look good in the light of day. Boy in the white and blue zip-up jacket winced in sympathy while the other two continued to stare at me as if I was being a mental moron.

"Is th-that the best you got, girly?" My mouth now turned into a smirk and it looks like she is about to hit me again until someone else's voice cut in sharply.

Oh look, it's a balding wizard with his long wooden staff and his tiny wire-frame glasses. From the looks of it, he seems intent on finishing whatever the hell we were actually doing in the first place since nobody told us in the beginning. Despite the reluctance of being stopped before she could do anymore harm to me, she decided that I would be dealt with later and went back to business.

And when I meant business, I mean moving away from me, stopping a hair away from the blushing boy and planting her lips into his.

. . .

Okay… that's not weird at all. It could be a French thing, I don't know. Do all French kiss each other in the mouth as a greeting? If so, then I want a hot French girl to play tongue twister with me. Now she's gesturing the other two to bend down a little and- I don't like where this is going… oh god, she's frenching them as well.

And now I'm next.

. . .

"Hey, listen girly, I know you're desperate to find love and all that bullshit, but don't you think this is going a little too fa-URP!" Her lips are so soft… Ngh, I call adult molestation! This is so wrong on so many levels of wrongness that even she's grimacing at the taste of what I had for dinner today. Hah, serves her right for trying to reverse molests me when I refused!

Hey, what's that burning feeling on my left hand? Feels like something is being bran- OH FUCK, IT HURTS LIKE SHIT! FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!

"Urgh… what the hell!"

"Ow, ow, ow! These feels are hurting me!"

"Argh, my hand!"

"SON OF A BITCH!" Was all I wanted to yell at the sharp pain of sizzling heat pressing down on what probably might be left of my drinking hand if I don't have it amputated by the end of the day.

"Stop complaining, it will pass soon." Pinky finally spoke a shred of something that I can understand while I waited impatiently for the sensation to stop.

. . .

Did she just spoke Ukrainian? I thought this was Paris.

A/N: If you are offended by the use of derogatory terminology, then take in mind that this is a story and what I put is not meant to be taken seriously. Have a good laugh and please give critiques. Thank you.