Artyom woke up in an unknown area, seemingly above the Metro, in a field on the surface. Upon realizing this, he groped for the gas mask attached to his belt, fumbling for filters with his other hand. He quickly began to adjust said mask over his head and locked said filter onto the mask's filtration system. "Where... am I?" He muttered, his thick accent piercing through the seemingly empty area's thick air. He checked his pockets, belt, and back for ammo, currency, or weapons. In his pockets were 200 Military Grade Bullets, or Metro currency, and a revolver. On his belt were 2 throwing knives and an incendiary grenade. On his back, a double-barreled shotgun and a sub-machine gun, supressor attached to the shotgun and scope attached to the sub-machine gun. He cautiously began to survey the landscape. There seemed to be no entrances to the Metro. How did he get here? Was he the only one or were there others? Only time will tell for him. He begins to walk, searching for any form of intelligent life, revolver in hand.