A room, filled with what most from the outside world would consider junk, and dirty clothes, was occupied by five men, sitting around a small oil-lamp, and plenty of pieces of paper detailing the city they were currently stuck in. Each outer border of the paper had times written, patrol routes either marked 'U.N' or 'Scav.' Each small building was labeled with a color, or letter to signify something.

The men spoke in thick russian accents, but were speaking english. Despite the current affairs of the city, it seemed three of the russians had accepted two 'Western Friends' into their group. They proved to be useful as well, as they had provided plenty of information regarding the U.N's involvement in the dispute in Tarkov. Plus, they had proved countless times they could be trusted in the heat of the battle.

You only trust someone in Tarkov if they're willing to take a bullet for you.

The room smelled of blood, dirt, sweat, and even foul-smelling food. Food, that even if it might've tasted terrible, was the only way that these five men were able to live. It seemed that the room had been picked up though, not as dirty as the others in the rest of the building. There were somewhat cleaned off tables, and even a working computer. Sadly though, they hadn't gotten any equipment to get it connected to the internet.

The internet. Almost magic to people now.

Atleast, the people stuck inside the city.

Each of the five men were assigned a certain role within the group. Boris, the leader of the group, was the best in terms of strategy. If he told you to go somewhere, you knew exactly where to go. Because of this, and of his age, being that of late fifties, he wasn't in the battles as much as he would like to be. This left him with a red coat and blue jeans that he had picked off of a scav's body when they cleared out the building they now called home.

To the right of Boris was Artyom, though as he stated multiple times to his party members, that wasn't his real name. He refused to say his real name and went off of the fictional name he came up with, saying he was inspired by a book that had been released years ago. He was considered the luckiest of the group, as he had survived countless close encounters, and even one time came knocking on deaths door after an almost fatal bullet wound to the throat.

Yet, he pulled through. Outfitted in a sand-colored rig, and a newly made Ghilli Suit, he was ready for sniping training. Training, which his friend Jake was going to teach him. Jake being one of two 'Western Friends' the group had, and had quickly become good friends with Artyom throughout his time in the group. Outfitted in the traditional american military outfit, with a dark green colored rig, a forest-pattern chestplate, and military issued green pants, he was what the group called 'Mr. America.'

Marcus, the other American was the quietest of the group. Yet, this made him an expert in sneaking around, especially eavesdropping on those they needed information from. When they needed someone to go infiltrate a small compound to see if there were any Scavs or other people, he was their man. He was a rare find, considering he was one of the few, if not the only black man in the entire city of Tarkov. Something that would normally be considered normal was considered abnormal during trade-sessions inside the inner city safezones.

The group always stood up for him against those who would judge him.

The last of the group was Dmitri. Dmitri, being in his mid-30's was a fire-arms expert. This made him the go-to person when the group needed repairs, or their weapons modified. Of course, he was happy to do the job, unless one of his party-members would give him a weapon, telling him to put a suppressor on it without providing the materials. This would earn him the nickname of 'Angry Tyrant' as he would demand more resources.

As if he was a dictator, demanding more resources from his people.

Despite this group of five going through their own personal hardships, their own personal backgrounds, and their own personalities, they had stuck together and made the few small moments count. When Marcus would come back with a small tennis ball, Boris would spend his time alone in the compound bouncing it off the wall, smiling to himself. When Artyom would find a nice bottle of Vodka, Jake would thank him constantly before offering it to the others before taking it for himself.

Or, perhaps when Pavel took a bullet for Dmitri, leaving Pavel to be the first party member to be killed in the heat of battle. Pavel was the youngest of the group, being inadequate in combat but still yearning to learn. He was the one that made the group smile with his innocence, which was something the rest of the five men had cherished deeply. It had proven that even in the worst of affairs, even in the heart of Tarkov itself, Innocence could still be preserved.

Yet, the day they finally took him out to go clearing out the mall, a spray of bullets had been thrown towards the group. The group had found cover, except for Pavel and Dmitri. Pavel had ran to Dmitri for help, but instead had accidentally used himself as a shield for Dmitri, taking a bullet through the throat just like Artyom would a month later.

Pavel laid on the floor after Dmitri had thrown him over the barricade the rest of the group was hiding behind. Dmitri stared at Pavel, examining the damage, seeing the clear as day bullet wound in the throat. Pavel grasped at Dmitri's coat while his other hand grasped at his throat, as if pleading for air. Tears welled up in his eyes, staring wildly at everything surrounding himself.

It was clear as day to everyone in the party that it was over. Despite what Artyom might experience a month later, Pavel had the unluckiest draw of the card when he was shot. There was nothing the group could do except watch their innocent little friend pass away in front of them, while a barrage of lead was sprayed over the top of their heads. Anger welled up in Dmitri as Pavel's movements had slowed, his eye's still leaking water and his hand slowly letting go of its grip on his jacket.

"Dmitri- you need to focus-"

"Shut up Boris! Do you see-"

"I see fine! But if you insist on letting your emotions get the better of you we will die beside him! Now let's go-"

"Are you saying we are going to leave him here?!"

Marcus spoke up. "We have no choice!"

"I'm not leav-" Dmitri was cut off when Boris had stood up and grabbed him by the back of his coat, dragging him along the floor while the other four laid down suppressing fire against the oncoming raiders. Dmitri didn't resist the dragging, and instead focused his eyesight on the body of his friend. His eye's welled up, and for the first time in years he cried once they made it back into their compound.

Countless times after that would they forget that Pavel was no longer with them. Dmitri found himself countless times asking where Pavel was when his sleeping bag wasn't occupied, before the group giving him a somber look and sitting in silence, allowing himself to figure it out for himself.

Dmitri, after that event, found himself becoming more and more tired.

Well, that was what the group had thought. It could've been that Dmitri just refused to be awake.

The group, after all those trials and hardships were now surrounding the small oil lamp, as they did so many times before. Their papers, as said before, outlining patrol routes of U.N and Scavs, trying to figure out a way to finally breach outside of the city borders. Jake, with his head now wanting to almost combust from the strategic talking, had got up and stood next to the window they had, watching the sunset rise up. It was ready for a new day to begin, and a new day of unknown circumstances.

Who knew what could've happened. Each of them had come to terms with the fact that they could very easily never come back after an unlucky raid. It was life here in Tarkov, and as terrible as it might seem to those outside the borders, it was unavoidable to those stuck inside. Though, just because it was normalized amongst the people didn't mean it didn't hit them any harder than it would a normal person. They were human, after all.

Humans that have had to deal with tragedies worse than most could comprehend.

According to some documents they had found in U.N bases and on U.N soldiers, there had been plenty of talks about what was going on in Tarkov. Media had gotten tiny bits of coverage, but not nearly enough to show the full extent of things. Politicians were covering up their mess, most likely paid off by special interest groups invested in the corporate landscape, which has now turned into a battlefield for those affected.

The United States hadn't put through any official action, but its people had certainly been up in arms about the situation. Most of them claimed it was a human rights violation, and that they suspected something worse was happening in the Russian city than what the elites would lead others to believe. Yet, they were found with the same response by those elites.

'Where is your proof?'

The few that had gotten inside of Tarkov for journalist reasons had found themselves dead, either by the degenerative scum inside, or by the U.N themselves. According to a document that they had found off a high ranking officer in the Southwest base of the reserve, the U.N was being supplied in funds by a third party corporation, separate from any country. It lined up with the situation easily, as all of this had started because of company warfare.

South Africa was currently dealing with it's own version of Tarkov, though on a much smaller scale, without as much damage. There were multiple failed attempts to cover the tragedy up, and that had resulted in mass riots and political change. The U.N had pledged to get involved and to help the dispute, but as they did years prior in Africa, they had done nothing but waste time.

This provided the elites in Tarkov to point to South Africa as an example. 'If it were true, it would be like that.'

The corporations involved in the South Africa incident were brought to trial, supposedly forced to after the U.N had uncovered 'secret documents' pertaining to what happened. Though, it seemed that whomever made that claim against the corporations had gone missing, and that the new leadership involved in the case would defend the corporations, calling it a misunderstanding.

The people following the orders were the ones charged.

The elites stayed on top.

With all of that news hitting the group of five prisoners of the city, they weren't hopeful with their situation. In fact, the outside news had only made them even more pessimistic in their idea of freedom. What if going out there wasn't worth it? What if, after all this time and bloodshed, it'll be even worse than in here? Yet, they couldn't let those thoughts take them over. There was no way they were going to bank all of their hardships on speculation.

Jake sighed, shaking his head and admiring the destroyed landscape outside. He wondered what the place might've looked like if it hadn't been hit so hard by the terrible circumstances. Being an American, he had the idea that most countries were third-world almost, whether in technology, if not design. He surely didn't believe that America was the best, but he certainly believed it was one of them.

Yet, even with the destroyed landscape as it is now, he never really thought of Russia having beautiful looking tree's and mountains as it does. In fact, the landscape being taken over by nature itself was proving to be a beautiful sight, albeit a sad one as well. A pang ran through his heart, and with another heavy sigh, he looked at his fellow comrades for just a moment.

Yet, a moment was all it took.

A bright flashing light blinded everyone inside the room, and a wave of compressed air blew through the windows, causing anyone standing up to be thrown to the floor. Jake had covered his face luckily before the blast, causing him to be protected from the shards of glass that otherwise would've sliced through him like butter. He instinctively reached for his pistol, and tried to gain his bearings.

The rest of the group were on the floor as well, weapons drawn and looking around confused.

Boris looked over at Jake, the one who had been closest to the window when it happened. He grunted, wiping his eyes quickly before speaking. "Sniper?!"

Jake shook his head. "I don't got a fuckin' clue what that was! Maybe a grenade? Flash? Definitely not star rounds either! It's like a fucking nuke just went off outside!"

That got Artyom to laugh. "Hah, we aren't that lucky!"

Boris shook his head angrily at Artyom. He didn't approve of the humor in such a dire situation, especially when they're dealing with an unknown element. With a sharp turn of his head, he stared at Marcus, giving him a nod. "Marcus, go to the right over there and tell me what you see out there. And, keep your fucking head low. We don't need your head being blown off."

Marcus nodded, slowly crawling over to the right side of the large window. He shook slightly, a little afraid to peer outside, but let his fingers grasp the small ledge where the window was and let his eyes take a look outside. He squinted, the sun seeming as if it got much brighter, yet a couple seconds later and with more squinting eye-searching, his eyes widened.

"Holy shit."

The group looked at him, confused.

"Guys, you need to take a look outside."

One by one, each of them stood up to take a look outside, albeit a little scared to do so, afraid of a sniper popping on of their heads off like a cap on a beer bottle. Yet, once each of them slowly saw what Marcus had a few seconds earlier, their fears were overtaken by confusion.

The area that the border wall had occupied was no longer there. No walls, no outposts, nothing. The far off mountains in the distance were gone. The dark green grass that had occupied the city was gone in the distance as well, replaced with a green vibrant color instead. The bright sun shone back to them with a blinding, godlike ray. The border, the very thing that had been keeping everyone inside this destroyed city, was gone.

There was no explanation needed. Boris turned to the other men. "Get yer' shit and let's get going!"

"B-But-" Artyom tried to counter, but was cut off almost instantly by Boris.

"We ain't got an explanation for that, do we? Why question it when we can capitalize on it! I'm sure our western friends know all about capitalizing on things, hm?" Boris joked, before jogging over to the table as quickly as he could and gathering his gear. The rest of the men followed suit. Their freedom outweighed their need for questions, and their taste of it was almost palpable.

They were almost there, weren't they?

The Coronation.

An event that was extremely rare, and even rarer to be the one being crowned. Twilight, after dealing with the events of three villains threatening to overtake Equestria, had been relaxing after being told by not only her friends, but both current, and soon to be retired, princess'. And as much as she might object, saying that she needed to be studying, or working, she couldn't deny that she was loving it. Her wing's fully extended out whilst floating in her own hot tub in a royal suite was certainly an occasion that she would be participating in more often.

Things had really changed, but it wasn't all terrible.

In fact, most of it was great. Her friends were back to their somewhat normal lives, being with their family and doing what made them happy again without worry of more villains. Spike was becoming more and more friendly with new people, especially hanging out with the Cutie Mark Crusaders, despite the trip from Canterlot and Ponyville. She herself was loving the fact that everything was seeming to fit into place.

Like she had been built from the ground up to do this specific job.

She couldn't have been more ready for anything in her life. Sure, there were current standoffs with other nations regarding trade, but that's why they had their own Tariff and Trade specialists to deal with such problems. In fact, most of these problems that were being presented to her were almost feeling like things were ramping up just to test her. And, yet, none of it even phased her.

A time in her life where she didn't obsess over every small detail. Who could've thought that she would've made it.

Despite however peaceful she felt, she was quickly brought out of it by continuous panicked knocking on the suite door. Pulling herself up and folding her wings, now standing inside the small hot tub, she addressed the knocking. "Come in!" She directed, her eyes staring at the doorway, watching it open to the sight of...

A guard?

"Princess Twilight, both Princess Celestia and Princess Luna require your attention immediately in the castle meeting chamber. This request was addressed with the 'utmost urgency.'" The stallion said, waiting for a reply from the purple Princess standing in the hot tub.

Those words didn't calm Twilight down any. Jumping up onto the tile and with a flash of her horn, she was now dry, and with yet another flash of her horn, she was gone. She didn't even address the guard, but he assumed that she knew where she was going, and ran outside the royal suite, leaving the hot tub to be unoccupied.

A flash occurred in the meeting chamber, and Twilight was plopped right into a seat facing towards Princess Celestia and Princess Luna. Celestia shook her head. "Despite this being of utmost importance, I kindly ask you to not teleport through these private chambers so often. They have confusion spells placed inside these rooms, which means you might just end up in a wall one day."

"Mm, I remember that happening to me once-" Luna said, before getting cut off by a somewhat upset Twilight.

"Now's not the time to be talking so casually! What's wrong? Are we under attack? Is it one of my friends? Is it ALL of my friends?!"

Celestia shook her head. "We are not in danger. Not that we know of. Though, I imagine this set of news will result in you postponing your coronation. It isn't something that we have dealt with ourselves before, and even Discord is confused on the logic of it."

That didn't sound very good. Not in danger that they know of, that basically meant that they could be in danger. Postponing the coronation? Definitely serious. They hadn't dealt with it before? They were thousands of years old! And, Discord was consulted and even he is confused?

Just what has happened?!

Author's Note

As some of you might know, I have plenty of stories in the works at the moment, so you might be asking yourself why I just started a new one!

Each of these stories I write are experimenting with something new. And, one thing that I've struggled to do throughout my other stories is world-building, and with such a complicated world as Tarkov, I thought this would be an excellent way to test myself.

Also, for any of you fans of Tarkov out there, i'm sure you're going to love this. Though, you don't have to play the game to get it. The game is quite cryptic itself.