S.T.A.L.K.E.R.

You snap your eyes open to see a gray sky, reeking of death. You cannot remember who you are or what your name is. But that doesn't matter anymore. You died. Fragments of memory flicker by: a firefight with someone, the betrayal of a comrade greedily grabbing loot while you bled out. A pain that surged through your entire body, gradually fading along with your life.

You look around. All that surrounds you is a field of scorched grass. In the distance, an electrical anomaly glimmers. But, surprisingly, there are no mutants. Five meters away stands a figure clad in a black robe that reaches the ground; their face is hidden beneath a hood and deep shadow, and their hands are nothing but bone. Their voice booms like thunder, echoing from everywhere at once:

— Lost soul, come closer.

You take a few steps forward.

— You have died, but you have been granted the chance to begin your journey in the Zone anew. You may choose a new vessel, a new name, and a new calling.

A scroll appears in their hands, which they extend toward you. Unrolling it, you see a list of the factions operating within the Zone:

• Loners
• Freedom
• Duty
• Bandits
• Renegades
• Ecologists
• Mercenaries
• Military
• Clear Sky
• Monolith

Your eyes scan the text. The choice is difficult—it will quite literally define your future destiny.