(Partially abandoned due to the author's skill level) (A sequel fanfic to the Metro game trilogy) In the eighth decade of the Moscow Metro, the lights in the tunnels are still on, and not everyone is dead yet.
Thirty thousand survivors huddle in dark concrete tunnels, divided up among three aging beasts: the Empire, the Red Line, and the Hansa. Infighting within the factions is deadlier than radiation, and something is even more terrifying than infighting: the tunnels themselves.
Unik, a maintenance worker, never believed in superstition. He only wanted to fix pipes, replace gaskets, and quietly live out his days at the Nameless Station. Until one day, he heard the tunnel breathing in an abandoned section.
Tumors sprouted from the walls, the rails shifted on their own, and blue-white "anomalies" herded him like patrolmen toward a place all the old-timers avoided mentioning: Gogol Station.
A mysterious old man with gray eyes stepped out of the darkness and drew incomprehensible symbols in the air with a cigarette.
"You're going the wrong way," he said.
Old Sergei clutched the rune-carved white bone he'd found in Unik's tool bag, his hands trembling all night.
"He's the most dangerous person I've ever met, and also the safest."
The tunnels are waking up. They're waiting for an ordinary person.
And that eccentric old man seems to have been waiting for Unik for a long time.
It's very attractive, and the content has a bit of a stream of consciousness, but there are too many things that are repeatedly emphasized, which affects the perception. I'll save it in the hope that it will be completed. Well, there are really too many repetitive things, and it's very tiring to watch.