Hell Or High Water (Escape From Tarkov + Arknights)

Prologue

????, 20:11 hours

A man woke up lying on the ground, hands above his head. He slowly opened his eyes seeing the heavy rain falls down from above through his ballistic glasses. He tried to get up to his feet but dropped back onto the ground when the feeling of powerless and pain strikes throughout of his body.

Only a couple of minutes later did he managed to gather enough strength to get up standing with him holding the barrel of his AK-74M, pushing the stock against the floor, moving inch by inch in every step where the rifle would often shake or looses the grip and felt onto the ground.

"Fucking hell with that blast, damn those scavs..." He muttered as he swipes his glasses full of rain water with his squishy left hand, but it still doesn't help him much as his head feels like it's going to explode and the body will collapse in pieces anytime soon.

He lied down against the wall of the an abandoned shed where a long ringing clang can be heard as he slowly lies against the wall, the handle of his tactical tomahawk's handle tilted forward, poking his headset to the right when he stopped.

He reaches his hand to a utility pouch on his rear left to bring a blister pack with only three slots left and squishs one open, swallowing the painkiller inside the almost dried throat of his with the few drips rainwater from his gloves as unwanted lubricant.

Slowly gathering his consciousness together after a while, he looked around, taking his soaked gloves off and pours the stagnanted water inside away before fixing them with the stainless steel hook on his pants. On the outside even under a thick precipitation fog, he noticed a three story building, with obvious cracks and steel reinforcement exposed from the concretes, glass from the window shattered and doors which the handle lays downward. However instead of assist in acquiring the location he is in, this information caused him to raise an eyebrow.

"Wait, I was supposed to be in the underground lab downtown, not a slum. This isn't right..." He muttered to himself pulling the peak of his baseball cap down, and reached for his push to talk located on the upper left of his plate carrier.

"Алекс то Бандит, прием." (Alex to Bandit, over.) Only radio static accompanies him afterwards, he gets the radio out from the pouch and then turns slightly on the nob next to the antenna. "Бандит, Бандит, это Алекс. Tы читаешь." (Bandit, bandit, this is Alex. Do you read.) After a while there is still only the sound of rainfall and static surrounding him.

"Damnit." He lowered his hand from the radio and reached to the handguard of his AK to pull the bolt handle, there is a round loaded inside the chamber. Then pressed the magazine release to pull and slightly shakes the 30 rounds magazine up and down, it is almost half he estimated according to the weight.

The rain still didn't let up and instead the noise for raindrops are frequenter than before in comparison. Alex pulled all of his magazines that remained in his mag pouches and opened his other pouches to search around.

Fortunately, there are 78 rounds of 5.45 x 39 in the three magazines, three 7 rounds magazines of .45 ACP fully loaded and four frag grenades are available in his disposal at the time, not to mention those spare munitions in his backpack. Along with everything else were still in the places where they belong.

Minutes later the fog like steam finally start to disperse and the fierce pace of the rain is starting to die down. Seeing as such Alex puts his gloves back on and then palm against his left kneepad, boots back onto the ground with his Kalashnikov in hand.

Getting out from the shed, Alex looked up above his head to the buildings, seeing the roofs and grey covered sky with some sort of lights shining along, thinking. Until some orange, yellow combined light snapped him away from his thoughts.