The ancient door, barely held in place by a single solid word and a supportive stone from within, opened effortlessly. The stalker stepped into the long-deserted apartment, a place he had visited countless times and returned to as though it were his dwelling. In a sense, it felt like home to him.
Amazingly, one window had stood the test of time. He enjoyed sitting there with his discarded backpack, for it was his cherished spot. From that vantage point, he could gaze upon the snow-draped Enerhetyk Palace of Culture on the horizon, bathed in the glow of moonlight. The snow shimmered and danced with vibrant hues, transporting his thoughts to a distant past. A familiar melody, which had transformed into a Christmas anthem far beyond Prypiat, flitted through his mind.
The night commenced its gradual descent over the Zone. The Zone, which this year had undergone a complete transformation. Has She evolved? Possibly. Has She grown more perilous? Undoubtedly, She has. Has She become a sanctuary for hundreds of thousands of new stalkers seeking their unique purposes? Indeed. And that notion brought great comfort to his soul.
He understood — that night, solitude would not be his companion. If he had one wish, it would be to remain here — amidst his companions, amidst his loyal fellow stalkers. And that wish would surely be fulfilled.
Merry Christmas, dear friends.