You’re crouched in a corner clutching your AK-47 with both hands. You’re down to your last magazine. Five monsters are trying to get a lock on your scent in the next room and just beyond them a group of Nazis are sitting at their sentry post waiting for movement. You should have saved some ammunition but you blew it all to buy a sniper rifle at the last outpost. Nietzschean law doesn’t apply: what doesn’t kill you here just makes you weaker. You want to go back but you can’t: the shelter doors are locked and won’t be opening again any time soon. Life in the Metro is tough – but above ground the situation’s even worse. Read more