A/N: Hello and welcome to this S.T.A.L.K.E.R. x RWBY crossover!

If you're not familiar with one or both sections of this crossover, don't worry. I'll explain things from both worlds through the story.

The story's going to be told from a first-person perspective, with a few breaks to third-person as needed.

Enjoy.

THE 'WILD TERRITORY', THE ZONE, UKRAINE

Four stalkers snuck into one of the Wild Territory's warehouses, the lead man illuminated by the radioactive green glow of an LED display. Without a word, they fanned out and secured the building, the only light inside coming from their headlamps and their goal - a pool of acid in a corner. Outside, a gas-masked figure keyed his radio.

"Boar, we've got stalkers in Warehouse 2. Advise?"

"How long have they been there?"

"A few minutes. They aren't going for a stash; my bet's on artifacts."

"Copy. They're going to make a run for Yantar come morning. I'm sending a team to you, there'll be people who'll pay way better than the ecologists for what those loners pick up."

"In the interim?"

"Watch them. If you can, note down the artifacts they bag."

"Roger that, Boar. Looking forward to splitting the loot."

The figure grinned and shook his head as he switched on the night-vision optics on his rifle. "Stupid stalkers; this is our turf."

TALTOS

The sun was just starting to light up the sky outside, signalling that our artifact hunt was coming to a close. "Matko, we need to get going, now!"

Matko waved away my concerns idly, his eyes glued to the detector in his hand. "Relax, Taltos, the Mercs won't shoot us right away. They'll give us the tax first."

"And then they'll shoot us. What the fuck don't you understand?"

"No, they'll shoot Gypsy. Then they'll get us to give them everything, then they'll shoot Arkady. Once they know we don't have anything else they shoot you, then they shoot me. That gives me about ten minutes to figure out an escape plan." Matko glanced up from the LED display of his detector, the sickly green glow giving his face a manic look. "I like those odds."

Arkady unholstered his AK and checked the magazine. "If I die here, I'm taking a few of those blue-shirted bastards with me. I'm not going out on my knees to some kid with an M4."

"Well Arkady, by my plan, you're being shot second. You want to start fighting back, you can go right ahead once Gypsy eats a round."

Our fourth member, Gypsy, was on door duty; it was up to him to warn us if the mercs were starting their patrols up. "And what if I don't want to eat a round? What if I just fuck off now and leave you for the mercs?"

"You're a gypsy; there isn't anyone else in the whole Zone that'd work with you. If we spill to the mercs that we had a fourth guy who ran for it, they'll drop a friendly message to Duty that they're housing a coward and that'll be the end of your stalker career."

"I could go bandit."

That was quite possibly the funniest thing he'd said all morning. The Mercenaries would kill you if you weren't a part of their outfit; you'd cut into their profits if you lived. Duty would kill you if you didn't follow their code to the letter, or shot a few Loners. The Bandits, you just couldn't tell with them; if you talked shit about the wrong guy, you died, but if you didn't, you'd still probably die. Gypsy, being a gypsy, would be able to measure his life in seconds if he fell in with them. "Well, at least we wouldn't haunt you for long if you did."

"Just because you call me 'Gypsy' doesn't mean everyone knows I am, assholes."

And now, the coup de grace. "You don't check your PDA much, do you? Me and Matko made a few changes a couple of days back; there isn't anyone in the Zone who doesn't know - before they've even met you - that you're a gypsy."

"Fuck it; you guys are on your own. I'm-"

I assume that sentence was going to be 'I'm leaving', but a 5.56 NATO round passing through his throat put an end to that. I guess the Mercenaries were up early this morning.

"Matko, pack it in. We have to move, or they'll move on us." Arkady had already moved to drag Gypsy inside. If we were fast, we could at least hide his backpack - screw the mercs out of one person's gear. "Arkady, how far out?"

"Twenty metres, I think. They were quiet this time."

I shouldered my weapon - an old AK-74 - and pointed it at the door. The first merc through there was getting some old-school Soviet vengeance. Second one might get me, but their point man was screwed. "Matko. You're done picking up artifacts."

I heard the click-clack of the bolt on an MP5 being cocked behind me. "Gotcha. Arkady see how many there were?"

Arkady crouched down, just out of sight of anyone passing through the door and aimed his weapon at it. "More than one. You want to find out more, look for yourself. I'm not winding up like Gypsy."

"Great." I checked our sides for entries, an old habit from before I came to the Zone. Being prepared to take on a larger force worked great if you could force them into a bottleneck, less so if they could flank you. One door on our left - one that led to another room like the one we were in - looked promising. Worst comes to worst, it was big enough for me to sneak off with my loot.

"Matko, keep me covered. I'm going to try and flank around. Maybe I can get us some idea of what we're dealing with."

He nodded, double-tapping my shoulder. "Yep. You're good, get going."

I holstered my AK and pulled out my sidearm, a Fort-12. Good combination of magazine size and stopping power, but it was useless against body armour. If I wanted to kill a mercenary, I was going to have to aim for the face - a daunting task at the best of times.

Luckily, I didn't have to try. The bay I was moving to check had some kind of anomaly in it; one that fused shut the doors as I got in. The main doors, which I was hoping to make my exit through, were pre-sealed for my convenience. As I stepped in, the door I came in through shut and sealed. The Zone had a twisted idea of good fortune, to say the least; it was saying that I didn't have to die with my group, but it was not letting me get out of this without some damage. Of course, this damage was to be done by anomaly. My hopes for survival were dwindling by the second.

This anomaly was weird, even by anomaly standards, because most of them stick to toying with one particular part of reality. This anomaly I found seemed to be doing all sorts; it was the anomaly to end all anomalies. It was hot enough to fuse steel like a Burner, it made the hairs stand up on the back of your neck like an Electro, it pulled you in like a Whirligig, and it teleported you God-knows-where like a Space anomaly.

Next thing I know, I was face-down in some dirt, with the sound of a gun being cocked over my head. "Stay down, hands where I can see them!"

Whatever I'd done, it'd pissed off a soldier. Maybe the mercs found me. Maybe the Zone decided my strategies needed work and threw me to the wolves. Maybe - and this was a long shot - I'd been flung clear of my group's predicament and put squarely in Private Ivan Ivanovich's gunsights. Maybe it was a Sergeant Ivanovich who'd done some time in the Zone and knew not to shoot on sight.

A little analysis put that theory to bed, mainly because the soldier in question wasn't speaking Russian. He was speaking English, strangely enough. "Hey, soldier man, where am I?"

"Shut it, jackass. You're trespassing in heavily-secured territory; it's a miracle I haven't shot you yet."

The soldier grabbed me by my pack and pulled me onto my knees.

"Hands behind your back. Now."

As he yanked me up, I saw his buddy, rifle pointed at my face. I'd seen a lot of rifles in my time in the Zone, but the gun I was being threatened with was not one of them. It was boxy, metallic and unusually clean. I didn't want to find out what caliber round it shot, so I decided to obey the command and put my hands behind my back for the inevitable zip-tie. I felt the hard plastic bite into my wrists as he fastened the cord and pulled me to my feet. He spun me around and showed me a vehicle that looked strangely like the Humvees Americans found so popular.

"You're going to climb in the back and Wilks is going to follow you in. You try to run or anything and we'll bring you in cold."

The phrase didn't make any sense to me; to 'bring me in cold'. What, were they going to strip me naked? The situation didn't call for humor, though, so I let it lie. I walked towards the Humvee, counting the steps of the soldier behind me as a form of safety. If he stopped walking, then I was going to die. I saw the door they wanted me to climb in and did so, listening to my impromptu jailor clamber in behind me.

The man in command, who had cuffed me, climbed in the front and waved to the driver to go. "You're in for one hell of a shitstorm when we bring you in; I almost wish you'd ran. Less paperwork explaining why a dead body's in the middle of a Hunter's Zone than there is to explain a live human."

"So why not just shoot me anyway?"

Wilks, the guy sitting next to me, spoke up. The soldiers were a lot more personable than the ones on Cordon duty back in the Zone, it would seem. "Body cams. We've got to account for everything that it sees, including random-ass people dropping out of thin air."

That seemed strange; I don't remember falling. "Wait, what?"

"Yep, you weren't there one second, you were the next. Not much more complicated than that. Don't worry, we've got guys looking for your hideout now; your shit's coming with us."

They thought I was from… here. I didn't believe it. "I have nothing here. I was in a warehouse, then I was on the road here. Unless there's a warehouse in this 'Hunter's Zone', you won't find anything of mine here."

"Buddy, you'd do well to shut up now. Trying to bullshit us won't do you any favours; we just want to see you squirm under one of the Huntresses. Bullshit them all you like, though; you won't live to enjoy it."

Great. Again, I followed the soldier's orders, but this time it was because these guys had no actual power.

I was sat in a small room, bare and featureless except for the table I was seated at. Not even a clock or anything to stare at to pass the time. What only made it stranger was the fact that there wasn't even some two-way glass for people to observe through.

My concerns came to a head when I saw my would-be interrogator. It was a girl, maybe twenty-one or twenty-two, in a pure white longcoat. Her hair was done off to one side in a ponytail, and it was the same shade of white as her coat; whether it was natural or dyed was not a question I thought to ask. Her face, arguably the only part of her that wasn't covered, was just as unblemished as her clothes, save for a scar running over her left eye; the only physical evidence I could see to suggest she's ever fought. Speaking of her eyes, they were a ridiculously clear shade of blue, but without a hint of dullness behind them. I could see why she'd been chosen to interrogate me, if she had in fact been chosen. Had we met in a club or somewhere, I might've said something complimentary.

"You're going to tell me who you are and why you're here, and you're going to do it before I lose my patience."

Now wasn't this cute. Some university-age girl trying to tell a man with easily eight to ten years on her what to do. Of course, she wasn't in cuffs or in the mood for being jerked around, so I didn't have a lot of bargaining power. That's not to say I didn't think some prodding was necessary.

"And if you lose your patience?"

"You don't leave this room breathing."

Opening with a death threat; a bold move against a stalker. I didn't want to ruin the surprise, so I played along with the appropriate reaction of shock. Mouth agape would have overdone it, so a sharp inhale and blink would have to suffice. "That's a little harsh."

"You're in the middle of a highly-secured military operation with no explanation for it. At the moment, I think you're a spy. For who, I don't particularly care. So, if you want to keep living, answer my questions. Who are you and why are you here?"

"No interest in where I'm from? I mean, if I was a spy, you'd at least want to know where I came from, no?"

"That question can be answered later. Now, for the last time, who are you, and why are you here?"

Her ever-present frown deepened, and one hand strayed to the sword hanging from her coat. Maybe she was one of those officers who loved tradition, wearing the sword with her uniform or something. Though, that didn't explain why the dress sword was a rapier; normally it's a saber. Whatever her reasons, I had a feeling that my bulletproof vest wouldn't save me from being impaled. "Taltos. My name is Taltos."

"And my other question?"

Oh, I loved these kinds of questions. 'Why are you here?' It just begged to be taken to stupid extremes. "Why am I here? Biologically, I'm the product of millions of years of evolution and my upbringing. Philosophically, I'm-"

Of course, my idiot brain had forgotten about the sword at the girl's hip. 'Smartass' was not an appropriate response for this scenario, unless I wanted to be stabbed in the chest. Luckily, it had stopped about an inch from my sternum. She must've been in the mood to be merciful today.

"Don't play with me. Answer the question."

Good work, Taltos, you've just locked yourself into a no-win situation. She's not going to believe 'I don't know why I'm here', but you can't say anything else without being suspicious as hell. Oh, hell with it; getting killed for honesty is less of a sin than getting killed lying.

"I have no idea why I'm here. My word to God, I fell out of the sky about an hour ago. I didn't choose to fall out of the sky in front of one of your patrols, and I sure as hell didn't choose to fall out of the sky in the first place."

The girl's sword stayed at my chest and didn't move closer. I guess my excuse was just believable enough.

"If you fell out of the sky, then what were you doing before the patrol found you?"

"I was inside a warehouse with three of my friends. There were mercenaries outside, they shot my third friend in the throat. I was going to take an exit and leave my remaining two friends to die, because we wouldn't have the firepower to take them down on our own. I go to sneak out a side exit, claiming I was going to flank the mercenaries, only for this fucking weird anomaly to suck me in. Everything went white, then I was face-down in the dirt in front of your patrol. You want to know why I'm here? Ask the anomaly that dumped me here."

The girl's eyes narrowed, like she was trying to look into me to see if I was lying. For my part, I was too scared to move; but I suppose a rapier over your heart will do that to you. Slowly, her sword drew back, sliding back into its loop on her coat. Good. Progress at last.

"What is this 'anomaly' you're talking about?"

She couldn't have asked an easy question. "That's a difficult question to answer; the one I was sucked through looked like a hole in the air. Not a hole with anything on the other side, but a hole you could see all the same. It's got a bit of pull, enough to knock you off your feet if you're around it for long enough."

Her head cocked slightly to the side, more out of intrigue than childish curiosity. "That didn't seem too difficult to answer."

"You asked about a particular anomaly. If you asked me about anomalies in general, then you'd have a problem." Noting the slightly improved mood of my interrogator, I figured now was as good a time as any to start negotiating. "Could I get these cuffs off?"

I shook my wrists to draw her attention to them, and the cuffs binding them. Her hand rested on the hilt of her sword, but it didn't move. I guess I had some more goodwill to build first. But I didn't really have anything left to offer, so a direct approach was all that was left.

"Look, you don't want me here; I don't want to be here, so let's help each other out. Cut my cuffs, take me back to where you found me and I'll make my way home from there. If you want to follow me, that's fine, I don't have a problem with that. But please, if you're not going to do anything else, let me go."

The girl smiled, the first positive expression I'd seen on her - a fact I found rather unnerving - and knocked twice on the door behind her. The door opened and she was joined by another girl, slightly younger than she was if the look was right.

If I was to call the first girl 'White', then this second one would be 'Red'. Where the first had snow-white hair, this one had red hair. Not a strawberry-blonde or whatever passes for 'red-headed' in slang, but proper dark red hair, with the sole exception of the tips, which had been dyed a slightly brighter shade than the rest.

Where 'White' wore an ankle-length white greatcoat, 'Red' wore a red cloak/scarf combination that had the cloak running down to her knees, a gray shirt under a corset/overalls-looking piece of dress, a red skirt and, refreshingly, some armour; the left sleeve of her shirt had pieces of metal running the length of it, but all segmented in a way that it wouldn't hamper her movement.

"So, who's he?"

"He says his name is 'Taltos'. He doesn't know why he's in our area, and he claims he was dropped into it by something called an 'anomaly'. Apparently, these 'anomalies' are capable of teleportation from impressive distances, as he remembers being in a warehouse before being dropped here. Seeing as the nearest settlement with a warehouse is half a continent away…"

Red nodded. "Uh-huh. Do we know where he's from?"

"It didn't matter."

"I'm asking, so it does now. Hey, Taltos, where you from?"

"Where did I come from or where was I born?" I think she was looking for the first answer, but the second couldn't hurt, as it'd give me a rough idea of where I was depending on if they knew it.

"Why don't we go with both?"

"I come from a place called 'The Zone' in Ukraine. You've probably heard of it; there was a huge disaster there about twenty-five years ago." The lack of response from the two was… disconcerting. What part of the world had I wound up in that they'd never heard of Chernobyl? "You have heard of Chernobyl, right?"

Red raised a hand to her lips, as though she was contemplating what I said. "Chernobyl? Ukraine? Where are these places?"

That was bad. Most people knew about Ukraine. More had heard of Chernobyl. Being in the same room as two people who hadn't heard of either was worrying. "Ukraine is a country in Europe. Chernobyl was a town in Ukraine, and the name of a nearby nuclear power plant. You've never heard of either of these places?"

Red's brow furrowed in concentration, then she tapped White on the shoulder. "Outside."

White nodded, following Red back out into the hall. My hopes of getting out were dwindling, and my hopes of getting back to the Zone were pretty much non-existent. The Zone was definitely paying me back for abandoning my friends now. That didn't mean I couldn't at least find out what the name of this purgatory was. "Wait! Before you- Could you at least tell me where the hell I am?"

The two looked at each other, as though choosing which one of them wanted to break the news. White finally spoke.

"This is the Kingdom of Vale. The installation you're in is manned by the Vale Defense Force. Does that answer your question?"

I paled slightly. If I was still on Earth, this definitely wasn't a time I was familiar with. "There isn't a Kingdom of Vale where I'm from. Maybe a planet name or something could be more useful."

"Remnant. The planet is 'Remnant'. Is that everything?"

I smirked; the Zone was known for its bizarre sense of humor. "Yeah… I guess so." I watched as the two left the room before allowing myself any more of a reaction. Remnant. Of course I'd be dumped on 'Remnant'. I'm a remnant of a group that's probably dead. An apt prison, if nothing else.