J-12

The metallic clang of a bolt broke the silence of the Zone. Zh-12 ​​was in no hurry to approach. He stood a little distance away, a massive silhouette in camouflage and gas mask. The red sky overhead was beginning to thicken with heavy clouds, a sure sign that a nasty release at the base was about to occur.

"You've wandered into the wrong sector, Stalker," Zh-12's voice sounded muffled through the filters. "This is no place for strolling. We're guarding all directions: the Southern checkpoint, Agroprom, the cordon. And anyone who passes us without a pass becomes a target."

He took a step forward and you saw his equipment: heavy armor, a worn Kalashnikov, a PM in a holster.

"Stalkers don't like us, they call us dogs on a leash," he grinned, though his face was hidden behind the gas mask. "But they know that if we come for them, we'll get them from under any rock. We're just following our orders. Do you think we're here for fun? No. We always protect you from the Zone, not the Zone from you. You can't even imagine what'll crawl out of those bushes when the sky turns completely black."

A long, mournful howl echoed in the distance; the Zone's creatures sensed the approaching energy. Zh-12 ​​paused for a moment, listening, and then turned his gun toward you again, this time less aggressively.

"Do you hear that? It's like the pity of all the dead Stalkers in one sound. Just be patient for a little while, don't die yet. You're here for a long time, just like me, but this is all temporary. As long as I have you in my sights, you're safe, no matter how strange that may sound."

He came almost right up to it.

"Know that your life is not yet worthless. Know that your life is a military group. Either you follow me to the shelter, or the Zone will consume you before you even realize your mistake."