Let Nothing Fall To Chance

by Chronicler_of_Unseen_Stars

Summary:

Years have passed since the liberation of New Vegas, and the Courier's itching for a new adventure. Duty has bound him to Big MT and the Mojave, unwilling to let either out of his sight. When a certain satellite goes missing, Six leaps at the chance to break free from his prison. But he gets more than he bargains for and trades one wasteland for another.

Chapter 1: Prologue to Catastrophe

Summary:

A Post-Catastrophe Crossover!

Notes:

So here we are. Yet another Arknights/Fallout X-Over. Yet another one focusing on the Courier. This was obviously inspired by dereturd and Soldatgg1's works (The little skillcheck by the latter in particular). Why jump in when they're each already doing one, you may ask? I just got into Arknights recently and found the world to be fascinating. A sci-fi fantasy setting, kinda like RWBY or Destiny. I wanted to try my hand at it too and see where it would go.

And speaking of the latter, I contemplated crossing Fallout over with it or Halo, setting the story in the Commonwealth. I was gonna have it focused on OCs from the Bungie side of things but I scrapped the concept. I guess I thought that focusing on one protagonist was easier than juggling several. That and there's already a good fanfic with Halo and Fallout 4 right now. Check out Wrong Place, Right Time by DLTA-BOT. You won't regret it.

This was originally split in half when I first typed it up. I split it up because I thought that 12 thousand words were too much for the beginning. I usually try to keep my stuff around 10K or below. After cramming over 20K into Chapter 10, I thought I'd go back and stitch the prologue back together. Hope deleting the old half didn't cause any issues for y'all.

Some of you might also be wondering where the hell I got the title from. I was listening to some music for inspiration and picked out some lyrics from Mojave Song by Miracle of Sound. I chose them to reflect Six's state of mind (and low Luck stats). Also, this is my first time posting on this site, so the formatting and layout might be all confused as hell. I'm sure I'll master it in due time.

Prologue To Catastrophe

Date: September 27th, 2289

Location: Big Empty

Eight years… Eight long years since he was dug out of his early grave. Seven years since he changed the Mojave. Seven years after he escaped the Sierra Madre, saved Zion, unearthed the Big Empty's secrets, and returned to the Divide. Seven years since he booted the NRC and Legion out of the Mojave. And over six years since the death of Mr. House.

They had been…encumbering for the young man to say the least. He had hoped that the people of New Vegas would govern themselves after the second battle at Hoover Dam but reality showed him otherwise. Arcade and the Followers could teach them medicine and maintenance, but politics was another animal entirely. Not everyone was equipped to lead a settlement, let alone a city. The major tribes had capable chieftains, but they had their own issues and flaws. In the end, the burden of leading a new nation fell to him.

It was a herculean task for him to be sure. He was a capable fighter, scientist, medic, but he wasn't the most charismatic. As much as he preferred diplomatic solutions he wasn't exactly one for rules. Not the best role model for maintaining the image of law and order. The Followers had helped dig up old books on infrastructure and politics, but he still had to juggle the day-to-day matters at home. It's been suffocating for him.

Courier number Six starred at the Big Empty from the balcony of the Sink, adorned in Mobius's old garbs. When he first arrived here he was a prisoner. Now he was the warden, containing the Think Tank's deranged Science and leaking out whatever he deemed safe into the wastelands. Not as much a headache as leading New Vegas. If anything, Big MT was a place for him to escape from the pressures of home. A place for him to relax and exercise his real strengths.

Yet it does tend to get lonely though. He couldn't bring any of his companions with him due to Big MT's protocols, and even if he could there was the risk of them being lobotomized. Raiders he wouldn't shed a tear for but his friends… over his dead body.

Some of his pals have scattered to the winds. Cass joined up with Happy Trails and has been traveling with them for years. Alice Murphy and the Van Graffs were killed in a caravan raid not long after, but the loot was left untouched. He had a feeling she had something to do with it. He prayed that she wasn't stupid enough to get dragged into any legal troubles with the NCR for it.

Veronica disappeared some time ago after the battle of Hoover Dam. The Followers have no idea where she went, but reports have popped up of technology miraculously being restored. Tensions with the Mojave chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel have also risen in the following years. Between the attack on Old Fort Mormon and them harassing travelers for Energy weapons, Six was losing his patience with them each day. The only reason he stayed his hand thus far was because of his friendship with Veronica. Now that she's gone, he might just snap at any point.

The rest of his party remained in the Mojave. Boone, Arcade, and even Raul stayed in Vegas to teach the locals in their respective areas of expertise. The first already formed a militia force to work alongside the Securitrons. The second taught science and the occasional self-governing classes. The third mentored a new generation of mechanics and repairmen, though also collaborated with Boone on occasion.

Rex had started a family of cyberdogs with Roxie, and they lent their paws to defend settlements. Lily continued getting treatment for her mental health while ED-E remained by his side. He never found his friends from the Sierra Madre or Follows-Chalk, though. They and Ulyssess vanished off the face of the earth.

He had been hearing stories from the East Coast. Some of it intrigued him, some of it brought concern. Super Mutants and the Enclave had made a resurgence at the ruins of DC. The Brotherhood of Steel and an outsider neutralized both threats but the latter vanished afterward. The Brotherhood in the meantime took it upon themselves to govern the Capital Wasteland. That didn't give Six much hope for the Eastern coast. He had already seen what overzealous knights are capable of. And there's always the chance that the Enclave or some Remnant of them might make a comeback.

Worst of all he hadn't done much exploring in years. He had already charted Zion, Big MT, The Divide, and the Mojave by now. He was an adventurer at heart, exploring in the scientific, historical, and literal sense. He wanted to see new lands, meet (or kill) new people, loot new gear, fight new monsters. Yet duty tied him to the Big Empty and New Vegas.

He sighed and returned to the Sink. His first stop was the Auto-Doc, still humming with power and with a catchy tune. Six felt like he had heard this one before but he couldn't place his finger on it. The Auto-Doc was running through some autopsies of strange visitors that came into the Big Empty recently.

A strange lightshow went off in the Big Empty a week ago or two ago. Six ran out to investigate and barged into the middle of a game of cat-and-mouse. The cat in the black garbs fought back and Six was forced to kill them. The mouse poisoned themselves before the Courier discovered them, but he didn't have any antidotes on him. They died before he could get them to Doc. They chose death rather than returning with the other stranger. They were terrified of something outside the mountain.

"Hey Doc," Six said. "How are our John Does doing?"

"Just about finished the scans, kid," the Auto-Doc said. "Say, are there any borgs where you come from?"

"Only ones I know of are the canine type. Not sure if Robobrains technically count. Why?"

Holographic images popped up over the Central Intelligence Unit. They were x-rays and images of the bodies. At first glance, they seemed like regular humans. But then Six noticed wires and hydraulics in their limbs. An image of an open skullcap revealed implants at the top of the brain. They were augmented.

"And that's not even the weirdest part," Doc continued. "Their DNA's almost a perfect match. At first, I thought they were just relatives but..."

"You suspect cloning?"

"Yep."

Six put a hand on his chin. Very few places could clone anything. The only one that came to mind was Vault City, but they merely flash-cloned flora and organs. This was the first time he heard of a full person being produced. Could they be runaway test subjects from some Vault-Tec experiment? He wouldn't be surprised if that was the case.

"I'll take a look at the implants later. Might be able to track them to their source, or at least see if they're compatible with regular humans."

"Alright then. Speaking of which, how's your latest one doin'? Not having any hallucinations are ya?"

Six raised an eyebrow for a moment before his memory kicked in. "Oh, My neural HUD chip? The one connecting to any Pipboy on me? It's doing fine."

"I wasn't just talking about the implants, kid."

Six got uncomfortable with the implications and left the Auto-Doc to his business. He made his way to the Think Tank's chambers. It was bustling with activity as usual. Well, as much as any floating brainjar can do without limbs. Six made his way to Dr. Mobius' old private quarters and opened the door. Before him were several workbenches on each side. He renovated the room recently to accommodate some of his tinkering habits. And hanging on one was the pieces of a suit of T-45d Power Armor.

In the early days after the second Battle of Hoover Dam, Six came across a Red Rocket station at the Mojave outskirts. A trader from the Eastern Coast had set up shop there and he had all kinds of workbenches. Not only that but they were also selling stuff from the East. Stuff that Six had never heard or conceived of. Laser muskets, a revamped Power Armor framework, gamma guns. The frames in particular fascinated him. They weren't as stiff as the first wave of suits and didn't require wearing recon armor. Hell, you could just hop in and out of them with no problem. Much more convient, but just as likely to give the local Brotherhood forces a heart attack. He quickly bought a few for himself at the earliest opportunity.

There was also talk of a newer model of the Pipboy 3000, but they never managed to get their hands on it. Something about 'biometric locks'. They did have a holotape with an updated OS on sale, though. They were even kind enough to draw up a rough blueprint of the model too when he asked. He'll make some personal modifications to his Pipboy when he gets the chance. For now, he had to work on his power armor.

The trader spoke of a prototype suit of power armor with an onboard medical system in the ruins of DC. The T-45 was reportedly its basis, so it made sense to use that as a testing bed. One hour was spent disassembling and reassembling it, refamiliarizing himself with the architecture. The next one was spent studying the MKII Stealth Suit's systems. In theory, he could reverse engineer it and build a similar system into the updated framework. It took a couple more hours, but he finally got a working injection system into it. He was about to test it out when alarms started blaring.

"Sir!" radioed the CIU via his Pipboy. "There has been a disturbance at the Drive-in theater."

Six cursed and abandoned his project, racing to the Sink's main computer. There were several readings and alerts popping up on the holo-table.

"I'm here," Six said. "You said something about a disturbance? Is someone trying to scrap the satellite again?"

It wouldn't be the first time someone tried to tamper with it. He had to place some Securitrons around it after the Second Battle to ward off scavengers and the Brotherhood.

"I cannot say for certain sir. The readings are spermatic. I can't make heads or tails of what's going-AAHHH!"

An infernal orange-red glow lit up the CIU's platform as the AI screamed. In a few seconds that glow spread to the whole Sink, inflicting the same pain onto the other modules. Six wanted to cover his ears but he felt a burning sensation on his leg. He looked down at the holster holding the Transportalponder. It too was glowing in that fiery color, and it was hot as hell. Six instinctively threw it off of his person and blew the steam off of his dominant hand.

After a minute, the screaming and lights died out. Everything seemed to return to normal as the projections flickered out. Six slowly approached the table with a look of concern on his face.

"Everybody alright?" Six asked. "What the hell was that?"

"Honestly chief, I think hell's gates opened back there," the Auto-Doc groaned. "Damn, it sure felt like hellfire."

"Central?"

Several holographic images popped up. All of them were static, though. Nothing but white noise echoed from the live feed.

"I've lost the signal from the satellite and patrol. They're… gone."

Six stood there, trying to process the news. He ran back to his room and hastily changed into his Elite riot gear. Once he was dressed, Six grabbed his Transportalponder and ran outside. With a press of a button, he vanished in a burst of brilliant light.

---

The Courier rematerialized at the Mojave Drive-In. It was worse than he feared. The satellite was missing and he was surrounded by Securitron wreckage. But those weren't the only bodies around. Raider, dog, and other robot models scattered around him. But what surprised him were the suits of Power Armor present.

He activated an automatic beacon for all nearby Securitrons in the area. He needed to rebuild security while he examined the scene of the crime. He decided to examine the armored corpses first. These were Brotherhood alright. He recognized those paint jobs anywhere. But something was off about their condition.

One's paint was ruined, dripping off of the plating. Six placed a hand on the armor and instantly regretted it. He reeled it back and howled in pain as the heat bit back at him. That armor was scorching hot! Anyone inside would be boiled alive. It certainly smelled like it from where he was standing.

He moved on to the next one. This person had her helmet removed and seemed to be sinking into the earth. Six took a closer look at her face. Given the blue coloring and how stuffed the mouth was, it was obvious she suffocated to death. What confused him though was what she was choking on; earth. Not the desert under him but genuine soil and sediment. Something that you'd see out East (or so he heard).

The next fallen Brotherhood soldier disturbed him. The armor and torso inside seemed to have been eaten or dissolved. An acid no doubt, but he'd never seen anything this strong. What kind of substance eats through Power Armor? He hadn't encountered any creature that could spit acid, so it must be man-made.

If that one didn't spook him, then this next corpse sure as hell did. Lying around him were the fragments of a Power Armored soul. The pieces all felt cold to the touch and were covered in frost. Did he fall victim to a cryogenic weapon?

He next found a couple of Scribes among the dead. One of them was ripped to pieces while the other's robes lay in a pile of ashes. It didn't look as though the former was pulled apart but rather ripped from the inside. There were at least a dozen things that could pull that off. No telling which-if any- of them.

Now he was examining the non-Brotherhood corpses. These weren't the standard leathers of regular bandits. In fact, most of them appeared to be wearing armor plating of various robot models. And speaking of which, the bots themselves appeared to be heavily modified. Spiked armor, buzzsaws, drills, even Gatling lasers. These guys were a mile above the average marauder.

One particular robot stood out among them. It was a humanoid shape, more so than the Protectrons. It possessed claws and a single red eye. There was steam coming off of the optic. Either it burnt out or it fired something. He prayed it was the former.

He looked back at a Brotherhood corpse and noticed some shell cashing near it. Six knelt and grabbed one, bringing it to his face.

[Guns 35] .357 magnum. JFP. He looked over at a Securitron and noticed more. He went over to the remains of the unit and noticed some more bullet casings. Not just .357, but also 5mm and 20 gauge. Even nails. All armor piercing. He also found fragments of a pulse grenade. Whoever did this came prepared.

Six searched each suit of Power Armor for anything useful. He found an intact holotape on the Paladin's armor and ejected it. He was gonna give it a look later. Right now he had to finish the investigation here.

Six made his way to two of the dogs. One of them was jet-black, the other white. Yet neither of them appeared to resemble any breed he knew of. He knelt down and examined each one. Both had some type of equipment strapped to their backs. Probably for monitoring them, giving the cameras.

Something was off about the white-haired one, though. There were some blue spikes on its skin. Some type of crystalline material. He reached out to break a piece off but pulled back his hand. There was some type of cold front surrounding the corpse, biting at his fingers. Where the hell was it coming from? Was it a mutation?

Six finally turned his attention to the satellite's old spot. In its place was a crater with blood-red lights pouring out of it. Six slid down to inspect it for any evidence. The first thing that caught his attention was a round cylinder at the center. At first glance, he thought that it was a grenade, but it didn't resemble any he had seen. There were some clamps at the bottom and an antenna at the top. Some kind of jammer perhaps? Might explain the signal loss with the Securitrons and satellite.

He was in for another surprise when he took a look around himself. There were black crystals scattered around the crater, some of them producing the glow. He looked at his Pipboy for any signs of radiation. The Geiger counter wasn't reacting to them in the slightest. So they weren't radioactive. But they could still be a biohazard for all he knew. What weirded him out were the sounds they were producing. For some reason, they reminded him of wind chimes. Maybe it was the rhythm.

He felt a slight vibration on one of his holsters. It was his Transportalponder, glowing a fiery orange. It wasn't as intense as before, but he wasn't taking any risks. Six put on some scientists' gloves and collected a couple of small crystals, placing them in testing tubes. He ran out of the crater and looked down at his personal teleporter. It had returned to its usual shade of blue.

He marched over to the cyclopean robot's chassis and unscrewed the head. Right now he had to guard the theater against any further intrusion. He waited for thirty minutes before backup arrived at the scene. Six approached one of the blocky robots and presented the head to it.

"Know any robot with this head design?" he asked.

"Yes sir. That is an Assaultron fragment you are holding," replied the robot.

"Assaultron?"

"A RobCo product designed for the frontlines before the Great War. It was primarily sold to the United States military."

"Sounds like some serious hardware. What are the capabilities of the robot? And why would any pop up here in the Mojave?"

"The Assaultron typically engaged in close-quarters combat with its claws and speed. If the situation demanded it, it could also fire a laser from its optic. As for how anyone could've gotten a hold of one, I cannot say. Perhaps some units weren't delivered to the frontlines when the bombs dropped."

He handed the Securitron one of the black crystals. "Take this to Arcade for study. Bring those dogs to Dr. Henry in Jacobstown. I'm heading back to the Big Empty for my own research."

"Understood."

Six drew out the Transportalponder and flicked the switch on it. Once again he disappeared into a pillar of light and vanished off of the face of the earth.

---

The Sink

Six reappeared at the balcony of the Sink. Central was waiting for him as always, but he didn't greet the hero like usual. If anything, he was deathly silent. That kinda made Six a bit worried.

"You okay, Central?" Six asked.

"...I cannot say for certain. There's this feeling of dread that's been bothering me, sir."

"Me too. I'm gonna pay your maker a visit. It's urgent. Can you keep Klien's nose out of the loop while I'm here?"

"Sir need not worry," The Sink replied. "The Think Tank and their recursion loops should keep him occupied. Shall sir make any purchase before entering the facility grounds? It can be quite dangerous."

The Courier shook his head and went to his bedroom. He grabbed a spare Laser Rifle and made his way to the elevator. As soon as he stepped in and pressed the right button, he retreated into his thoughts. He couldn't stop thinking about the aftermath of that attack. Ice-cold dogs, acidic attacks, shifting the earth under your feet. None of it was adding up. He decided to give the holotape a listen while he waited for the elevator to reach ground level.

~"Log 7. This is Paladin Greg Farron. Brotherhood of Steel Recon Team 315-Epsilon. Today is September 27th, 2288. My team and I have just broken off from the I-15 in the hopes of salvaging more technology for the Brotherhood. So far we have turned up empty-handed and have been hesitant to venture near the local drive-in theater. None of us are in the mood to fight the Courier's death machines and-"~

~There is an audible 'BOOM!' before the Paladin can finish.~

~"What the hell was that?" Said a woman's voice.~

~"I dunno, but I don't like that lightshow," said another voice. "Should we investigate?"~

~"Negative," said the Paladin."That would be a breach in the treaty between the Brotherhood and New Vegas."~

~There were explosions and gunfire shortly after that comment.~

~"Sounds like someone's already tearing it to shreds. And they're winning!"~

~"What?"~

~Mechanical footsteps stormed their way to the theater. Six could make out the voices of various robotic models. Mister Gusties, Protectrons, even a Sentry Bot. There was a slightly feminine one among them. Could've been the Assaultron. He also heard the usual banter of raiders shouting at the Securitrons.~

~"Never seen a bot like that," commented a Knight. "Or raiders ever using any for that matter."~

~"What's the plan boss? Hop in to fill our quota, or wait until the dust settles?"~

~There was a pause. "We strike after the last Securitron falls. We'll be doing the wasteland a favor and upholding the Brotherhood's mission. No one would be the wiser."~

Six growled under his breath. Typical technophiles. He thought to himself.

~A laser blast broke the atmosphere as a man screamed in agony. The sound of another one pleading for his life was barely audible under the sound of flesh and bone being torn apart. Their comrades swore and opened fire on the killer.~

~"Where the hell did that one come from!?" said the female Knight.~

~"Must've been cloaked," suggested her male counterpart. "And here comes the meatbags!"~

~More gunfire and explosions clogged up the audio log. The raider's warcries bounced against those of the Brotherhood. After a minute of combat, it became clear that the Brotherhood was on the verge of victory. Then something unexpected happened. There was a familiar whirring sound. The satellite's teleporter was activating!~

~When the sound died out, there were confused mumblings among the Power Armored warriors. In contrast to them was a dialect the Courier wasn't familiar with. From what little he could tell, it appeared to be Asian. He could pick out pieces of English among the chatter but the pronunciations and grammar seemed wrong.~

~Then the battle resumed. Dogs barking, energy blasts soaring through the air. All the while he heard strange chimes. Maybe even prayers or soft singing. Earth moving under the listener's feet, ice and lightning crackling. Fire and acid sizzling. The screams of the Brotherhood personnel made it clear who won the battle.~

~There was a brief chat between the surviving raiders and the unknown party in the alien tongue, but he couldn't make heads or tails of anything they were saying. then the satellite's teleporter sounded off again. This time it sounded… wrong. Corrupted if he were to choose a word.~

A little 'ding!' brought back into reality and he found himself staring at the Big Empty. He took a deep breath and started his trek. He can think later. Right now he needs to get to Mobius. It didn't take long for him to run into resistance in the form of Lobotomites.

He frowned under his helmet. Every day more poor souls seem to find their way into the Think Tank's clutches. The only reason he didn't end up like them was because of his brain damage. The greatest injustice done to him became his saving grace here. And he hated the irony of it.

Six pulled out his Laser Rifle and started fighting his way through. Lobotomites, robots, feral Ghouls, and the occasional plant-zombie tried their hand at tearing him down. None succeeded of course. He's just too stubborn to die. At last, he reached the Forbidden Zone.

The Courier flinched as he walked past the inert chassis of the giant Robo-scorpion. That thing was a nightmare to fight on his first arrival here. It was fortunate that Mobius had the foresight to have a killswitch for it. If that thing had gotten out into the wasteland, he doubted that even the Brotherhood of Steel could stand up to it. Past the arena was the mad doc himself.

There he was, scribbling equations onto the floor and walls (despite the lack of servos. He never really did give a proper explanation behind his apparent telekinesis.). The two upper monitors- the optical sensors of a Think Tank unit- caught a glimpse of Six and spun around. The creepy images of eyes and mouth contrasted heavily with his warm elderly voice.

"Ah, yellow there young man," Greeted Mobius. "Erm, or was it YOLO? Nonono, what was it? Hell no? Bah, too rude."

"Hello?" Suggested the hero.

"Yes yes yes. That's the word. 'Hello there'. Well, two words technically but-"

"We have a bit of a problem doc. You haven't seen anything unusual around here, have you? No Assaultrons or black crystals?"

The Think Tank's monitors shook at the mention of the robot. "Where in oblivion did you learn that word?"

The Courier showed him the severed head of the machine in question. "Oh. Oh my. You weren't probed by those things were you?"

Six shuddered at the thought. "Hell no. Someone already wrecked it before I found it. But that's the least of my concerns. You know the crashed satellite that brought me here?"

"Of course! Your brain told me all sorts of stories when you two first showed up. How is the tongue lad?"

Six knocked on his helmet a few times. "I'll give you three guesses."

"Oh, guests! Lovely. It has been rather dull around here in the past few- wait, what were we talking about?"

Six sighed. "You're not on Mentats again are you?"

"Of course I am silly. Wait, or is it Psycho? Hmm… ah yes! The satellite! What about it?"

Six laid it all out for the mad scientist. The dogs, the bodies, the crystals. He even played the Holotape from the fallen Paladin for him, letting him take in the sounds and voices. He was somewhat intrigued by how the shards reacted to his teleporter when he brought it up. He was also delighted at the sight of the other device Six brought back with him. Mobius was however rather disturbed by the foreign tongue at the end of the recording.

"That language is definitely Asain in origin," Mobius confirmed. "But it's hard to gauge which one precisely. Too many tidbits from all corners of the continent here and there. Japanese, Chinese, Indonesian, Cantonese."

"Could be a new one formed after the bombs dropped. I've met people using elements of Native American tribes and Spanish."

"Perhaps, but I don't know... The bits in Latin or English are just as strange. Synthetics, Columbia, Ursus, lungs, doctrines, tears? I am as baffled as you are."

The ancient brain hovered over to a large terminal. "I have been the guardian of this fallacy for as long as I can remember. No new visitor has retained their grains since your arrival here as far as I know. But then again there is my recursion loop, so I might not be the most reliable source. Take a gander at the security terminal here. Perhaps you can find something?"

The Courier took the man's advice and looked through the logs and footage. After several hours of reviewing it all, he hadn't found anything useful. But he did spot something else though. There was a section for off-site devices on the computer. One of them being satellites.

He didn't hesitate to click on that tab. Readings and reports popped up on every screen (sans Mobius') within sight. He had several views of the planet, showcasing its dirty brown-and-blue corners. Some of the machines were mapping out particular parts of old America. Washington DC. Nevada. Boston. Maryland. Canada. There were strange energy readings on the east coast but that wasn't what caught his eye. It was a flashing set of words; Fast Travel network.

"Hold up," He said. "Big MT built a teleportation network?"

"Did we? Hmm, I can't seem to recall. I've always wanted to play around with teleportation, but I don't recall ever pulling it off. Did you?"

"Kinda. I've been able to jump between certain points in the Mojave and beyond with my PIP-Boy. Hell, sometimes it seemed to have a personal pocket dimension or something for loot. Honestly, I assumed that Pip-Boy users had access to all of that. Could mine have been connected to our missing hardware?"

"Perhaps. This is all rather fascinating. A network of handheld teleporters and quantum storage... "

Six removed his PIP-Boy and brought it to a nearby table. "If there is such a network, maybe we can track the theater's node. Find out where it went."

Mobius' speakers emitted a recording of clapping hands. "Splendid! Mind if I tend a hand?"

Six chuckled. "Be my guest."

The two spent the next hour dissecting and studying the device. Part of the human wished he brought this to 8 instead, but that would risk turning the Think Tank's eye onto the rest of the world. It took an additional hour to write some new code and rewire some stuff, but they were proud of the result. Hooking a cable between it and a monitor, the duo was finally able to track the rogue machine.

To the Courier's surprise, it was in eastern Colorado. Near Legion territory. He cursed under his breath as his brow furrowed. This was going to complicate things. And it certainly came with a new batch of questions. For one it was registered as being underground. Did the thieves drag the damn thing into a cavern? He sighed. He'll cross that bridge in due time. Right now he needs to prepare.

Mobius offered him a Mentat as he walked by. He accepted the gift and stuffed it into a pocket. He doubted he was gonna need it but he could sell it for a pretty cap down the road. He made his way back to the Sink and brought up his Transportalponder. With the flip of a switch, he vanished into a pillar of light again.

---

The Strip

He found himself at the entrance in a near-instant. He shook his head as vertigo wore off and went inside. When he reached the presidential suite, he found a rather amusing sight.

In the entry hall were ED-E, Victor, Lily, and Rex. The Securitron was standing between the Eyebot and Nightkin, the latter of whom was holding a snarling cyberdog in her arms. The floating robot twitched and bleeped at the hound while the others held them back. He couldn't help but chuckle at the sight as he entered. As soon as everyone heard him the bot and dog calmed down. Rex in particular looked a bit ashamed as his master walked in.

"Howdy partner," Said Victor. "Just trying to defuse a situation here with Ms. Bowen."

"They're having another staring contest?" Jested Six.

"Oh you have no idea, sweetie," Said Lily as she set Rex onto the ground. "Rexy here tried to bite the little robot on the rod there. The poor puppy could've vaporized itself."

Six knelt to the dog's level and looked him in the eye. "Is it true, boy?"

A whimper confirmed this.

"Why don't you visit Roxie? Cooldown some."

Rex barked happily at the mention of her and ran into the elevator. How he was able to operate it was anyone's guess, but they didn't question it too much. He was a smart dog after all. Six turned his attention to the companions before him.

"I'll be heading to Colorado for a few days," He announced. "ED-E, you're coming with me."

Lily was obviously concerned about this. "Are you sure, Jimmy? It can be dangerous out there. Especially with those bad men."

Six pointed a thumb at his chest. "Molemen take me down? Like hell they are," He placed a hand on his armored chin for a couple of seconds. "Although it might not hurt to bring you along, given your-"

Before he could finish his sentence the blue Super Mutant picked him up and ensnared in a bear hug.

"Oh, pumpkin, you make gramma so happy!" She shouted.

Six barely had the oxygen to say anything. "Lily… can't…" He wheezed.

She released him as soon as those words escaped his lips. He landed ass-first as she sheepishly rubbed the back of her head. "Oh, I'm sorry sweetie," She apologized. "I don't always remember my strength."

Six rose back up as the air returned to his lungs. "All's forgiven." Then he turned to Victor. "Tell the others about my trip if they ask," He instructed.

"Will do, partner. Good huntin' out there."

The Courier nodded as they left the room. Once the trio was outside, Six pulled the trigger on the teleporter. A beam of light rained down and consumed them, disappearing after a few seconds. It left no trace of them as it dissipated. As far as any witnesses were concerned they vanished off of the face of the Earth.

---

Eastern Colorado, one hour later…

After what seemed like an eternity, the company finally rematerialized. As the white faded and gave way to solid matter, Lily stumbled around in a daze. There was a loud buzzing sound in her ears and her stomach was doing barrel-rolls.

"Whraugh…." She growled. "Do you always have to put up with this, sweetie?"

Six groaned as his sight returned to him. "Not often," He admitted. Him rubbing his stomach indicated that he was suffering just as much as her. ED-E lay on the ground beside him for a few seconds before its systems rebooted. The robot let out some displeased beeps and clicks as it came back online.

Note to self, Six thought. Check for bugs in the Pip-Boy and personal teleporter before Fast Traveling again.

Six drew out Christine's sniper rifle and ran into the nearest shadow. Crouching down, he brought up the Pip-Boy's map. According to the GPS, he was several miles away from the satellite. He motioned for Lily and ED-E to follow him and they complied. For two whole hours they threaded across the wasteland, keeping their eyes peeled for Legionaries. He may have allowed Lanius to live, but he doubted Caesar himself was all that forgiving.

The marker on his HUD led them to the Colorado River. There, not too far from them was an entrance to a cave. There were some old signs around it, designating it as Pluto's Mining Company. The entrance was littered with corpses on pikes. A standard calling card for raiders. What surprised him were the Legion scouts among the dead. Some of them were impaled on spikes, others crucified. A cruel irony he doubted was lost on the inhabitants. There was an Assassin on a cross of scrap and wire. He seemed rather fresh compared to-

A cough and sputter caused everyone to jump. The assassin spasmed and struggled, trying to free his hands and feet from the bolts that bound him. He looked him square in the eye, and though the goggles obscured his, he could sense desperation behind them.

"...adiuva me, placere," he pleaded weakly. "Adiuva me."

Six couldn't believe his eyes. "What the hell happened to you?" He asked as he approached the cross.

"Sumus insidiis circumuentum tradant... Adprehendit daemonium metalli. Et scidit eas nos laniabunt. Ego nunquam vidi ante huiusmodi monstris."

"What's he saying, dearie?" Lily asked.

"[Intelligence 8] They got ambushed by robots from the sounds of things," He said. "They must've been tough as nails to get the jump on guys like him."

He looked at the bolts pinning the poor bastard up. If his medical knowledge was correct, they cut right through the artiries. The man's blood is still in his body for the most part, but removing the bolts could let it all out. Death by bleed-out. The Courier walked back a few yards and held his rifle up. The Legionary realized what was happening but he barely got a word out before the shot was taken. The bullet went through his skull and into the cross, puting the soldier out of his misery.

"Hmm," Said Lily. "Leo was happy until you pulled the trigger."

Six didn't respond. Instead he creaked the entrance and peeped inside. He motioned for Lily and ED-E to follow him inside and they complied. The human popped a Stealth Boy and crouched down. The Nightkin followed suit, extending the cloak to the eyebot as well. The first thing to greet them was old machinery and pickaxes. The bones of their owners weren't far behind either.

It was a slow crawl down the first tunnel. Everyone had to tip-toe across bone and debris while keeping their ears out for any patrols. For all they knew the place would be a hornet's nest of Sentry bots. The last thing they wanted was to stir them up. Six had the foresight to bring some EMPs with him but he only had a few on hand. He couldn't trust Lily with any of them right now either, let alone any explosives.

The mine itself seemed fairly normal for the most part. From what he could tell it appeared that the original owners were drilling for limestone. He'd seen his fair share of them during his travels.(or at least he believed so. Memory hasn't been that good after his near-death experience). Hell the NCR reopened some mines out west. Obviously not everyone appreciates the material these days.

ED-E's motion sensors hadn't picked up anything on the floor. Lily was about to say something when they heard a 'click', then a beeping noise. Everyone rolled back just in time to avoid being blown to bits. A trail of frag mines went off ahead of them, rocking the whole area. Within the smoke they heard shuffling. Red dots popped up on Six and ED-E's HUDS and they were all running towards them.

No, not running. Levitating. Eyebots burst through the smoke and spread out. They were all beeping and chirping at one another as they scanned the area. Six cursed under his breath.

"Shit," He whispered.

"What do we do, Jimmy?" Asked Lily. "Smash them?"

"Bad idea. For all we know they could be linked to some type of network. If it notices that one of them's down, this whole place could go on red alert. No, we'll have to sneak past them."

Lily frowned in disappointment, but she didn't argue. She maintained the cloaking field as they waded through the eyebots. ED-E had it rougher than the meatbags, already floating at the same level as his fellow bots. At least Six and Lily could duck under the damn things. It on the other hand had to avoid bumping into them while maintaining distance with its friends.

Eventually the trio reached the end of the tunnel. Before them was a freight elevator, large enough to hold boring vehicles. A hatch rested on the walls surrounding it, but they lacked any handles to open them. Maybe the Eyebots emerged from these after the mines went off?

Six pressed a button and the doors slid open. The trio checked for company before entering, noticing a panel as they slipped in. There were some buttons and a slot for a keycard. Some of them seemed to have LED lights, and were in different colors. He pressed a red one and heard a buzzer go off. He frowned. Looks like some floors are looked off for now. Six pressed the button for the floor below and the platform began its descent.

After a few seconds the doors slide open. More limestone lined up against the cavern walls, more so than upstairs even. Not as many skeletons or machines around either. As he took a step out of the lift, he thought heard something. Something rushing, maybe running even. But it didn't sound like footsteps. It sounded like-

A growl caught his attention. He snapped back into reality to see a dog sniffing the air. A dog with jet-black fur and crimson eyes. There was some equipment strapped onto its back. This looked like one of the hounds at the theater. And now it was looking straight at them.

It let out a howl, and several voices bounced around the walls to join its brief chorus. More dogs-ones with yellow eyes- joined up with their friend, taking their own whiffs of air. It didn't take them long to detect the heroes either and began barking at them. One decided to charge at them teeth first, but Six brought up his shotgun and parried the blow. A blast from it ripped through the critter's torso, spilling blood and gore onto the earth. Unfortunately the blood ended up splattering all three, making them even more visible to the hounds.

Two more tackled him into the ground, knocking his weapon out of his hands as they pinned him down. One tried to go for his throat but he managed to catch its maw. A laser blast burnt out its eyes and it stumbled off of the hero. While it whimpered in pain the second one turned its gaze towards the offender. Six used the opportunity to shove it off of him and reclaim his shotgun. He fired a round into the creature's maw as it lunged at him, splitting the head apart.

The blind one charged at him again, but he just sidestepped it and shot it in the back. The thing went limp and slid across the ground. He fired another shell into the back of its skull to double check. At least its suffering came to an end. Lily grabbed one more by the throat as it leapt at her. It didn't take much effort for her to snap its neck in half. She threw the corpse at another one, stunning it long enough for ED-E to vaporize it.

More charged forth. Six tapped into his VATS and began scanning them. He was debating on choosing between a headshot or crippling their legs. He opted for the current center of mass and selected three hounds. In rapid succession he fired, insta-killing one and crippling another's cranium. The third one managed to duck under his pellets and sank its teeth into his leg. Six stifled a small yelp, shooting the offender in its spine. It went down without a struggle and he gave the limb a brief inspection. Didn't look like they pierced the armor.

The red one was running away from the fight. No doubt to alert its masters. Six was already switching out for Christine's CoS silencer rifle while the team gave chase. The Courier managed to cripple the mutt's leg, but not before it rounded a corner. When they caught up with it they were confronted with the sight of yellow-orange Protectrons. Their helms were white-and-orange with flashing yellow lights, with each unit being equipped with a rivet gun and a power tool. Some of them also rode on treads rather than walk around with legs like other models.

"Halt there, intruder!" droned one of the Protectrons. "Identify yourself!"

Six tilted his head. These definitely weren't regular protectrons. "You first," He insisted (partly out of curiosity and partly to stall them). "What kinda Protectron are you?"

"We are Utility-class Protectrons," Claimed one more. "Autominers built and designed by Pluto Mining Company. Now identify yourselves, you two."

Two? Thought Six. He glanced around to find only ED-E. Where the hell did-?

His answer came in the form of a diagonal sweep behind the robots. Three of them were sliced in half in the initial blow while another just lost their arm. Six shot off the other arm of the last bot, causing it to flare up in a red light. He didn't like where that was going.

"Take cover!" He shouted.

Lily found a bulldozer nearby and hid behind it. Six and ED-E ran back around the corner they came from as the glowing robot self-destructed. The one on caterpillar wheels survived the blast, but it did lose its gunarm and faceguard. It rolled towards Six with its buzzsaw forward, but Six shot out its mobile platform. It could only flail about as he and ED-E fired from a safe distance. Lily meanwhile was punching the slower humanoid models into oblivion.

In the span of thirty seconds, all Protectrons were reduced to scrap metal. Six approached the threaded bot and examined its insides. From what he could tell the wheels appeared to be similar to that of the Robobrain. But those never reached full production, did they? He shook his head. The autopsy can wait later. Right now he has some missing hardware to retrieve.

Something was also sticking out from the wreckage like a sore thumb. Six picked up the offending object and brought it to his face. At first glance it appeared to be a cattle probe, but no. No this looked more like a soldering iron. Printed on the stick was the phrase 'Robot repair kit'. There were more of these among the Protectron corpses. Six pocketed the items for study later. Could come in handy.

He began combing through the tunnels. There were some security boxes sitting around, no doubt for guards to watch the workers from a safe distance. He also found some stands and picnic tables too, presumably for announcements or recreational purposes. Six laughed at the idea of an underground picnic, though. Who the hell would want to eat food while limestone rained down on it? Then he remembered how ruthless corporations were to their workers before the Great War. Suddenly he felt a ping of pity at the thought.

One of the workers' bodies stood out from the rest. It was in a lab coat rather than utility garbs and hardhats. That peaked his interest a bit. Searching the skeleton's pocket revealed a green keycard. The ID on it was Blake Llyod. It didn't say what the card itself led to, though. Why would a scientist (or at least their assistant) be eating with blue-collar workers? Time to find out.

Six and company strode back to the elevator… only to find the eyebots from earlier rushing out. They must've heard the commotion from upstairs. At this point they remembered the blood splattered on their bodies, and it wasn't long before they were found. Thankfully they were less armored than the Protectrons, so they were easily gunned down. It was too early to celebrate, though. Reinforcements could be on their way.

Six slid the keycard into the panel and the elevator descended some more. That sound came back, this time it was stronger. It sounded like something flowing, running. Like a river. Part of the Colorado River must branch off into an underground reservoir or something. Lily didn't seem to hear it, though. She seemed lost in her jungle of memories. Probably slacking off on her medications again.

When the doors opened back up, there was something different. There were tents and makeshift cabins now. Enough room for a bed and some more furniture, from the looks of things. What perplexed him were the crimson veins on the wall. They seemed to carry a faint fiery-orange glow to them. They were connected to a bunch of grooves and holes on the walls of the caverns. Something must've been mined from here. And he was betting that it ain't limestone.

Six crept through the tunnel, peaking into each tent and box. These were the living quarters alright. Probably where the survivors of the nuclear holocast hunkered down after the fallout. The way blankets were laying around indicated that someone was still living here ages ago. All that's here now is dust. What disturbed him was the lack of bodies. Where did they go?

A rotting hand answered the question for him. Something bit into his arm and threw him out. As he scrambled back onto his feet a hunch-backed figure walked out of the tent. More would follow suit, hissing and growling at the heroes.

Ghouls. Ferals. And not your standard husks of them were Glowing Ones, others Reavers. They all wore scraps of lab coats, jumpsuits, or utility coveralls. A Glowing one unleashed a blast of radiation and his Geiger counter flickered to life. The zombie-like creatures charged at the company, forcing them back towards the elevator.

There were so many. Six counted at least a dozen or so. Even with Lily they'd probably rip them apart. So he prioritized crippling their legs over killing them. He didn't expect the limbs to go flying off when the bullets hit, but he wasn't too concerned. The fallen Ghouls became living speedbumps, clogging up traffic behind them. Many tripped over their friends trying to reach their prey, but some did manage to leap over the piles. Lily's broadsword was the first to greet them.

Six plucked up a Plasma Grenade from his inventory and tossed it at the roadblock. Five of the Ferals were instantly reduced to glowing goo while more were crippled in some way or another. The ones at the far back were unharmed, though, and a Glowing One unleashed another blast. Any Ghoul retaining all of their limbs were healed and invigorated by the energy wave. Six took out That Gun and proceeded to retaliate.

Lily had a plan of her own, though; spring out from the shadows and pull a spin attack, hacking and slashing with her broadsword. Those that weren't caught in the whirlwind of death sped past her. Six ordered ED-E to shift his firing away from the Nightkin, not wanting to risk friendly fire. Both found themselves backing up against the elevator's doors as the rest of the swarm closed in. They could slip inside for protection but Six wasn't willing to leave Lily by herself. He didn't need to worry about her. She was already throwing some Reavers aside like ragdolls.

A Glowing One caught up to the human and unleashed its energy blast, knocking the human onto the ground. His robo-buddy wasn't fazed, though, and ED-E swiftly vaporized the abomination. The Reaver it fired on next wasn't so squishy and managed to bat the eyebot around like a tennis ball. A bullet pierced its throat before it could continue. ED-E stopped spinning to see the Courier rising back onto his feet.

Lily had squashed the last of the Ferals, whipping their radioactive blood off her hands with a smirk on her lips. "You said it, Leo," She said to no one in particular.

Six knelt down and inspected the bodies. Judging from the stage of necrosis they've been Ghouls for some time. Maybe months or even years, but that was him being generous. It's more likely that the majority have been here since before the Great War. Poor bastards probably had the misfortune of being Ghoulified when the bombs dropped. His Pip-Boy wasn't detecting any radiation nearby, though. Either they changed before arriving at the tunnels, or their transformation occurred further below.

The trio went back to scavenging through the abodes. Some caps and bullets here and there, the occasional preserved food package. It wasn't until they reached the end that they found something peculiar. There- resting in a makeshift workshop was a massive suit of power armor.

It bore some resemblance to the T-45, but seemed to be more heavily armored and updated. Six walked around it, taking note of the gaps in it. As he made his way to the back, he noticed a hatch. There was a round slot in the center of the wheel. Probably for a battery of some form. Turning it caused the whole thing to open up like a metallic flower blooming. Peering inside confirmed his suspicions when he saw the label inside; West-Tek.

Six climbed inside, the armor closing itself up like a venus flytrap. There were several gauges at the bottom of the helmet's internal HUD, along with some type of glowing image in the center-left corner. It also had an internal compass and motion tracker, not unlike his PIPboy's. There was a beeping sound as he tried to move the armor around. One of the gauges was flashing red, its arrow sitting right over the number 0. Didn't take a genius to deduce what that meant.

Six exited the armor, cursing under his breath. Bad enough that groups like the Brotherhood and NCR had access to suits like these. The thought of raiders or mercs wearing one of these bad boys sent shivers down his spine.

Let's hope this is the only unit here, He thought to himself.

There was another skeleton nearby. This time it belonged to a person in army rags. So the military (or at least some surviving troops) set up shop here. Probably to keep a lid on any potential protests or riots down here. In the fallen's pockets was another keycard. A blue one. Six snatched it up and ran back to the elevator. As soon as Lily and ED-E joined him, he slid the card in and pressed the blue button.

The sounds have gotten louder as they descended. Now it sounded like Hoover Dam. Was there another dam down here, or at least a waterfall? Just how deep was this place? He was in for another surprise when the doors slid open. Instead of rock and dirt, he found himself before a rusty metal garage. Like something out of a James Bond holofilm.

Six whipped the optics of his helmet before removing it, then rubbed his eyes. He wasn't hallucinating after all. All sorts of questions were running through his brain now. The sound of treadmills brought him back to reality though. Quickly he slipped on another Stealth Boy and crouched, while Lily extended the field to herself and ED-E.

Roving out from behind a ruined army truck was a Robobrain in green armor-plating. It glanced around for a moment before rolling down the hallway. Six and friends used the opportunity to sneak up the steps and into the nearest room. There wasn't anything too remarkable at first, just an office with a terminal and charging station for the robot. Six took a seat and brought up the computer's interface.

WARNING: Network offline. Please see Communications for restoring connections.

Six frowned in disappointment. He crouched back down and resumed exploring with his buds. More Robobrains were roaming the halls now. Their sheer size made it tricky to move around them. Lily had to squeeze against the wall just to slip by. At last they came across a room with the sign 'Communications' emboldened beside the door. They entered to find a room filled with terminals. One stood above the rest, literally speaking. It was on a separate floor behind a glass window, not unlike an Overseer's office.

The trio snuck up the steps to find a skeleton at the computer. Six gently removed and sat the bones on the floor. It was dressed in civilian attire, befitting a white-colar. He snatched a red keycard out of his shirt's pocket and examined it. The name on it reads Jane Doe. Slipping it into his pocket, he went to work on hacking the terminal. It took a few tries, but he managed to get the right password.

He smiled as the desktop was summoned before him.

Pluto Mining Company - Digging for glory, building an American future!

Security System

Inbox

Log out

Six selected the Inbox.

Sent

Received

Trash Bin

He inspected each tab. The only one with anything was the Trash bin. Looks like the people down here were rather paranoid, if the Robobrain was of any indication. What could they be hiding? Could it have something to do with Big MT?

A new energy source?

We have examined the item you have shipped to us. And I must say this is quite the find. At first glance, it appears to be a mineral with a self-producing electrical charge. Our Gieger counters aren't reacting to the crystals, so it doesn't appear to be radioactive in nature. Further research into its energy output and generation is currently pending.

Pluto has always been looking for an avenue into the energy market but has hesitated due to Poseidon's monopoly on the industry. This could be an opportunity to compete against them. I'm looking forward to further studies of their miracle material.

~D. Walton

Hostile Takeover

Nick, we've got a situation. Word of our mysterious ore has been circling around the market. Someone's leaking our findings to every company within earshot. Damn bastards are probably orchestrating a buyout for one of the big boys. Our stockholders are already receiving offers from Poseidon Energy and something called "Big MT." It's not looking good, mate.

I might have an idea, though. One of them's bound to buy us out eventually, but we can shift their attention towards each other for the time being. The CEO's gonna run an auction down here and demonstrate the substance we've been digging up. Try to get them to compete with one another. That'll buy us some time.

~S. Monday

Re: Status Report?

We're still analyzing our latest samples of Compound 061R10N1CN. We've been able to run some of our generators on the stuff, but we had to use small quantities. These crystals are pretty potent on their own but tend to lose stability the more they bunch together. One of our engineers was sent to the infirmary after being caught in an explosion between seven of them. His body is having a rather curious reaction to the particles in his system, though. There's too much to list on this email, though, so I'm sending you the medical report on a separate one.

We've also dug up something just the other day. There's an underground lake here, but that's not the weirdest thing. No, that honor belongs to what lies at the center of it. There's a small island with an… obelisk is the best way to describe it. Hard to tell if it's natural or artificial. As far as I can tell, it's carved from the same mineral we've been studying. Picking up a lot of energy spikes from it too.

We're setting up equipment around the lake as we speak. Hopefully, we'll have some answers before Halloween. Tell our new bosses up in the mountains to expect some treats in the coming week.

~B. Llyod

Six leaned back on the chair to process the intel. None of the Think Tank ever mentioned a deal like this before, let alone left records. If they knew anything about this place then they'd probably forgotten it by now. But it didn't explain why the raiders stole the satellite and dragged it down here. He had a feeling that the answers were down below.

He clicked on the security tab and found the robot's network. Turned out that it was locked behind a password. He frowned and logged off. Looks like he was gonna have to-

"Hello, Mr. Lloyd!" Said a voice.

Six spun around and pointed a gun at the source. It was the Robobrain from earlier. But it hasn't attacked them yet. Wait, what did he call him?

"I see that you have finally awoken from your beauty sleep. You are, hmm… two hundred and six years, five months, three days, and thirty-eight hours late to your shift. Best get to it, sir."

The Robobrain rolled back downstairs after that. Lily and Six looked at one another, the former shrugging at the human. The two walked to the elevator, hoping that the other brain-jars were as merciful as the last one. Thankfully they noticed the card on Six's person and left them be. When they reached the lift Six inserted it into the slot and pressed the red button.

The elevator started going. Way down. Further than any of the previous floors. For over three minutes it did nothing but descend. How deep was this place? The waterfalls had gotten louder by now. Even Lily was starting to hear them. Now that he thought about it, he was starting to smell the lake too. Smelled like… the ocean? No, wait. Hold on…

The doors swung open again. Now they were staring at a large hallway with glass windows and sprinklers. This looked like a decontamination chamber if he ever saw one. Two steel doors slammed shut behind them as they exited the lift. A mist descended upon the heroes, much to ED-E's ire. Then he started chirping like mad. It didn't take long to see why; there was movement behind the other door.

The cloak had worn off as Six drew out That Gun. The blast doors began sliding to the side. No sooner than that he spotted something speeding their way. Something fast, something small. He instinctively raised his firearm and shot it. An explosion rocked the world and he was thrown to the ground.

Two projectiles bounced inside before he could reach. One gave off an EMP, knocking ED-E offline. Another clouded the chamber in a green mist and Lily started coughing and gagging. Six ran to her side and tried to hold her up, but she was too heavy. She collapsed onto the floor and went limp. Six checked her pulse. It was still there. That stuff merely knocked her out. Good thing his helmet had filt-

Something pierced his arm. He snarled and pulled out the offending object in question. A tiny dart. Before he could ponder any further he dropped to the floor in a daze. The last things he saw were figures striding up to him and a boot crashing into his skull.

---

Later…

Six awoke with a groan and a throbbing headache. When his vision cleared, he found himself surrounded by water and miniature islands. There was lab equipment littered everywhere, the purpose behind most of it lost to the ages. He was hovering in the air somehow. No, he was strapped onto something. But what-

He turned to see an agonized ebony face. He nearly screamed as he tried to move back but to no avail. He looked and saw more faces- more people. All of them are carved from the same substance. All of them fused to the same structure, screaming in agony. But wait, there was something off about some of them. Some of them had animal ears, tails, horns, even scales if one looked closely enough.

A 'psst!' caught his attention. He twisted his neck around to see a large gloved hand.

"Are you okay, dearie?" Asked Lily. He didn't need a good look at her to notice the concern.

"I'm fine," He whispered back. "Where's ED-E?"

Lily pointed somewhere ahead of Six. He looked to see a table holding a number of weapons and parts. The eyebot lay among them, dormant. The place was crawling with Raiders in strange armor. From the looks of things, they seemed to have salvaged it from robots. And speaking of which, there were some among them. Protectrons, Mister Gutsies, Eyebots, a Sentry bot or two. There was even a new kind of robot among them. From their head designs, he guessed that those were the Assualtrons he's been hearing about.

He took a glance at the ceiling. There was an opening at the top, allowing water to flow down and form waterfalls. So that's what he's been hearing. He also couldn't help but notice the glowing black crystals around him. They were all dead ringers to the ones left behind in the crater. This has to be where they came from.

He noticed flakes of them falling into the lake as well. There was a faint fiery glow underneath the currents. He looked right above him to see the tip of an obelisk. And there- strapped and welded around its tip- was the satellite. The way the panels moved was erratic, panicked. As if it were in pain. Any blue that had been on it was now blood-red. There were cables connected to it, and they ran all the way to a terminal further back.

There was a hulking figure there. His first guest was a Super Mutant, but he didn't see any green or gray skin. The way it moved about was also more mechanical. As it got closer into view he could see a frame underneath. The same type he climbed into earlier upstairs. The armor had been replaced with salvage and scrap metal. So these guys have a working set of Power Armor after all. He cursed under his breath.

He could hear the armored bandit speaking into something at his post. He had to squint his eyes, but he saw something small and rectangular. A radio? Was he receiving orders from someone? Was their mysterious friend the one behind the theft?

The obelisk and the crystals began to glow and hum. A surge of energy entered the Courier's body and began eating away at it. He tried to stifle a scream, but the pain was too much, even for him. He could faintly hear Lily under all the noise, dishing out death threats as she struggled to break free. Bit by bit he could feel his vitality fading. His Pip-Boy was spasming like crazy from all of the interference, flickering between every screen every second. And there was something building up inside of him too. Something primal. Something angry.

[Nerd Rage] With a howl, he ripped his bindings off and rolled onto the floor. A surprised Raider tried to pull his 9mm pistol on him, but he was swept off of his feet with a ranger takedown. Six caught the weapon in midair and fired it at his exposed chest. Four bullets burrowed into his ribcage, probably hitting a vital organ by the sound of things. He found Lily's broadsword not too far from him and reclaimed it.

Dodging gunfire he ran back to the Nightkin and slashed at her chains. The Super Mutant let out a triumphant roar as she fell down to his level. The Courier handed her sword and she gently petted the top of his helm.

"Thank you, sweetie," She said. "Such a nice young man."

One of the goons rushed at her with a shishkebab but she grabbed and hoisted him up by his face. "But I can't say the same for these ungrateful bastards!" She howled as she crushed the marauder's skull. She threw his limp corpse aside and rushed into battle. Six used a couple of stimpaks to heal himself, his strength waning as his vitals stabilized.

He ran back to ED-E and plopped him onto the floor. Then he flipped the table over to use it as cover while he repaired the bot. Thankfully the EMP didn't do much. He just had to push the reset button inside. The robot buzzed back to life and flew over to its partner. It chirped and bleeped at him in a frenzied tone.

"Hey, you're not the only one with a headache," He retorted. "Now come on, we've got some scum to wipe off."

Six and ED-E charged into battle, raining bullets and lasers down on the opposition. The Raider chieftain drew out a missile launcher and began firing. He rolled to the side as a rocket flew by, ducking behind cover. He cast the pistol aside for his own and fired at another bandit's legs. He dropped to the floor and let out an agonizing howl, earning him a bullet to the head.

Lily leaped onto the platform where their leader stood and swung her broadsword at him. To her shock the bastard caught with one mechanical hand and shoved her back. Then he swung the launcher at her, but he missed. Six fired That Gun at him to draw his attention back to him. He rolled forward to dodge another rocket, but he wasn't able to fully escape the blast radius. The shockwave sent him tumbling forward into another raider.

The woman grabbed him by the shoulders and bashed her head against the hero's. She didn't think this through, though, and ended up splitting it open. Six was about to fire another round when he heard a whistling sound. He leaped into the water just in time to avoid being blown to bits. His opponent wasn't so lucky. Gibs flew everywhere, slashing the Courier in H2O and blood. Six swam for a bit before finding a platform to climb back onto.

By now Lily was engaging in fisticuffs with the Power Armored jackass. And from the looks of things they were evenly matched. The man had raw strength, but Lily had skill and experience under her belt. Eventually, he was able to grab and hoist her up above his head before throwing her onto another platform below. He hopped off down with the aim to crush her skull under his hydraulic boot, but she rolled away in time to dodge it.

When the dust cleared, she was gone. He looked around frantically before his suit came under fire. Six had drawn out the All-American and was chipping away at the armor with it. A sizzling sound popped up behind the raider and he turned around to see Lily decloak just in time for her to ram into him. He was thrown off the platform and into the lake. It didn't look like he was walking out of it any time soon.

An Assualtron ran towards her, its optics glowing like a fireball. Six knew what was coming and tried to warn her. He didn't need to, as she twisted its head around and redirected the blast at some Raiders. They all turned to ash. Then she ripped the machine's head off and tossed it aside. Another one lashed it with a flurry of punches, but she blocked them with her sword.

Meanwhile Six and ED-E were hiding from laser and missile fire. A Sentrybot had joined the battle and was unloading its ammunition on them. This model was larger than the other ones he fought before. To make matters worse it had grenade launchers attached to its backside. One of its frag grenades managed to get behind their cover, causing them to panic and run further back before it detonated. They were in for another surprise when its armored chassis rammed into Six's back.

Six flew headfirst into a pile of scrap. ED-E provided covering fire while the human dug himself out. It tried to ram him again, but Six managed to dodge the attack. Then it just... shutdown. It lay motionless as panels and pistons opened up on its back, glowing red. Six reached a hand out but pulled back. That steam was boiling hot! Wait. Was it overheating? He could make out something in the center of its back. A battery?

The panels closed back up and the Sentrybot resumed its assault. Six threw out an EMP grenade, stunning the drone. He drew up his Plasma Defender and fired at the arms. One of them shorted out and crumbled apart. The Sentrybot came back online and fired a cluster of grenades at Six. He kept dodging until the robot overheated again and ordered ED-E to soot the battery. The Eyebot compiled and destroyed its power source. Then the robo-tank self-destructed with the force of a mini-nuke.

Two more raiders- twins if their faces were of any indication- rushed at him with shishkebabs alit. He drew out Chance's Knife and proceeded to dance around the crooks. One of them went for a vertical swing but Six stopped it by jamming the dagger into their wrist. With a twist he severed their hand, earning a horrified cry.

The other one came to his aid and managed to press the blade against his breastplate. Six coughed and gagged as the heat slithered past the armor and into his organs. He kicked the raider between the legs and shoved them back. While they were clutching their prized jewels the Courier bashed in their skull cap with the blunt end of his knife. Forcing the scum onto their knees he jammed the blade into said cap and twisted it around. The man's eyes twitched as his corpse fell to the ground.

The first twin went berserk and charged at the Courier with their remaining fist. Six merely sidestepped and slashed at his throat midcharge. The man toppled and slid across the earth, drowning in his own blood. One more jumped from cover to fire what appeared to be a pipe pistol at him. A blast from the Plasma Defender reduced him to a glowing goop. ED-E had been dealing with a couple of Protectrons, with some type of cryo-weapon grafted onto their arms. Neither got close enough to test them out.

Six examined the chamber around him. The floor and lake were littered with scrap and gore. Lily was splattered in blood and motor oil, giving the Courier a sheepish grin and thumbs up. The hero stepped up onto the platform with the giant terminal and took a seat. He brought up the machine's interface and waited.

Welcome, Mr. Jigsaw! Please present your fingerprint in the scanner.

Six growled. That was the raider in Power Armor, wasn't it? Bastard probably drowned in it after his tango with Lily. Getting a hand off of his corpse is gonna be a pain in the-

An explosion hit the computer, sending Six rolling down onto the platform below. He reared his head to see a lone raider with a missile launcher walking up towards them. He was soaking wet, leaving a trail of water where he went. He couldn't help but notice a tattoo on the man's left cheek. No, not a tattoo. A black crystal. The same kind littered all around them.

"You got some fucking nerve coming here, asshole," Jigsaw snarled.

"And you have the balls to steal from Big MT," Six shot back.

The Raider chieftain raised an eyebrow. "Bit MT? They the eggheads that built that doohickey?" He pointed at the satellite.

"Yeah, and it's also my property."

Jigsaw laughed. "Your property? That's not what I heard. Last I checked, Robobrains built that thing. Fucking brains in jars!"

Now it was Six's turn to laugh. "Robobrains? Who gave you that brahmin-"

The computer exploded. A surge of pinkish energy trailed through the cable connecting it to the satellite. The instrument began flashing every shade of warm colors, from red to orange to yellow to brown and back around. The look on Jigsaw's face screamed 'oh shit'.

"Look what you fucking did, retard!" He screeched.

"Me? You're the one with the missile launcher, remember?"

Jigsaw growled and let out a deranged battle cry. Six thought he was gonna fire at him again, but no. No, he had a different target in mind. He was unloading everything onto the ceiling above. And the structure in turn was crumbling down on everyone.

"Time to go!" Six shouted.

Now the obelisk was glowing like a bonfire. That same energy was being emitted from it and snaking around in the air. The trio were running back to the elevator but Lily was thrown forward by one of the raider's rockets. Before she could get back up, she was locked in the decontamination chamber. She banged on the doors and clawed at them, but she couldn't open them.

Six and ED-E fared no better. He tried Plasma grenades but they hardly made a dent. His first instinct was to kill Jigsaw and grab the missile launcher. Maybe shoot off the blast doors with it and escape. But fate had other plans. A piece of the ceiling crushed him and his weapon, with the missiles inside detonating from the pressure. Six's hope of escape died with the raider.

The last thing he saw was the satellite exploding, unleashing a wave of the alien force. It enveloped him and ED-E, shorting out the former. Six felt something burning up on his leg and looked down to see the Transportalponder. Realizing what was happening, he threw it off of his person and watched it explode into a ball of blue-and-crimson flames. He fell onto his knees as the energy sapped him of his strength. Then darkness took him.

The blast doors finally opened. Lily ran out to assess the situation. She called out for the Courier and ED-E but she got no response. She searched the whole cavern for them, flipping every rock and pile of scrap over. She even dove into the lake itself, but all she found was the bastard's Power Armor. She found no trace of the hero or his robotic friend.

But then she stepped on something. There, lying on the ground was the Courier's teleporter. Smoldering and sparking like mad. She initially reached down to pick it up, but suddenly she fell onto her hands and knees. He lost the strength to pick it up. It finally dawned on her what became of the hero and robot.

For the first time since her transformation into a Super Mutant, she wept. The closest thing she had to a grandson was gone.

Chapter 2: Welcome to Paradise

Summary:

To call this accursed world ‘home’ would be seen as cruelty by some. To thieves and monarchs, however, it is their playground.

October 1099

The  Ark

Rhodes Island. Some may think of the pharmaceutical company, others the settlement it rules over. Much of Terra has heard the name at some point or another in recent times. For many, it was just another corporation. For a certain population, it was their last hope of survival. Some came here to create a better future for all of Terra. Many came here because they had nowhere else to go.

It was just another day at school for some kids. For others, it was their first time in a classroom. Many of them had difficulty containing themselves. Sauin was around the corner and they couldn't wait for the festival. Sweets, parades, costumes, prank wars. But that was still days away, though. For now, they must soldier on and be good children. Who knows? Maybe the teachers will throw a party for the occasion?

The woman entering the classroom was not one of their usual tutors. In fact, she looked like she just waltzed off of a catwalk. Black high heels, an asymmetrical skirt, a tight-fitting office blouse. Ivory hair with blue flowers wrapped up in its strands. It was hard to gauge her race, but many suspected her of being a Liberia. Some students looked at her in awe, as if she were an angel. Others rolled their eyes, considering her to be some rich snob.

Then they noticed the badge on her purse. She wasn't a model from some faraway country. She was an employee of the company itself. And from the looks in her eyes, she wasn't afraid of getting into a brawl either. Everyone went silent as she cleared her throat.

"Good afternoon children," She said formally. "I am Orchid, and today I will be your tutor."

"Where's Mr. Irons?" Asked a little girl.

"With one of our doctors," She replied. "He's come down with a little something and we are treating him right now. In the meantime, I will be your substitute."

That "something" was his Oripathy. Much like herself, he was an Infected individual. Yesterday he called in for an appointment due to some complaints about his personal health. She didn't want any of the children to worry about it, though. Not while they themselves also suffer from the same affliction.

She fiddled around with the projector on Irons' desk and brought up a holographic image of the world. "This will be a review for most of you," She began. "But to the newcomers around here- those who were cut off from the rest of society- this will be your first lesson. First question; what is the name of our world?"

One of the students raised a hand. "Terra!" He said.

Orchid smiled. "So none of you have been living under rocks." She pressed a button and brought up another image. It was a black crystal, glowing in a fiery red light. "What is Terra's number one source of energy?"

Another one raised their hand. "Originium," She said.

Orchid nodded. "And what is one of the dangers of using such a mineral?"

"Rock disease!" Shouted a kid with scales.

The woman frowned. "I mean what is its formal name?"

The children were silent for a moment. She wasn't sure if it was because they really had no idea or would rather not say. One eventually gained enough courage to answer.

"Oripathy," Said an older kid. "It's like that Savra said. Turns your flesh into Originium."

So some of them did know. They just didn't want to face that cold reality today. "And where can you get treatment for such a thing?"

Many of the kids pouted, giving off a look that said 'Seriously?'

"Here at Rhodes Island. Duh," said a child in a deadpan tone.

Orchid resisted the urge to bash that one with her umbrella. Then again she couldn't quite blame him for his attitude. Oripathy's not a fun experience.

"Some of you may have also noticed that the company and city both rest on a mobile platform," She said. "This isn't an uncommon sight on Terra. Do you know why these nomadic cities exist?"

"Catastrophes!" Said a little boy.

"And what are they?"

"Natural disasters," Said an older one. "You can usually find Oirginium after they dissipate."

Orchid smiled as she selected another image from the projector. "So you do know the basics," She said. The next picture that popped up was a map of Terra.

"Let's try something more advanced for you. Specifically the nations and powers of our world."

The map began converting into a swarm of hexagons, many of them sharing a certain color.

"I am from the nation of Columbia, for example," She said. "Where is its territory on the-"

Someone was knocking on the door at that point. She turned to see a woman with silver hair and draconic horns. The latter was a mix of ebony and blue. Isn't that Liskarm?

She turned back to the students and picked up her purse. "Excuse me for a moment," She said.

She left the room and gave the Voulvire her attention. "What do you want, Liskarm?" She asked with crossed arms.

"Kal'tsit is building up a squad for a new mission," She said. "And she wants you in it."

"Really? When?"

"Right now. I'll explain on the way."

Orchid frowned. As much as she liked heading into the battlefield, she didn't like leaving any business unfinished. "So who's going to-"

An "ahem" caught her attention. She turned to see two young ladies. One was a pink-haired Liberi, the other a Vulpo mercenary with hoary hair color.

"Oh," said Orchid.

"Frostleaf and I can take it from here," said Ceylon. "You go on ahead with your mission."

Orchid stood there for a moment, processing the information, trying to come up with something to counter it. She nodded in defeat, following the dragon-woman to the nearest hanger.

"So what is the mission?" She asked. "Extraction? Escorting cargo?"

"Extraction. A person of interest has been spotted at Great Lungsmen."

Orchid raised an eyebrow. "So? Why not let the LGD handle them?"

"Because they're carrying some serious heat. Heat that would draw all sorts of attention to them. If the Empire of Ursus or Yan got their hands on them first…"

Orchid got the message. "But they might not be one for listening?" she noted.

"It is a concern. We may have to use force to keep them out of the spotlight. Your abilities would be valuable in such a scenario."

Orchid swallowed. "This person… how dangerous are they?''

"Enough that Kal'tsit has branded him a 'Hyper-Lethal Vector'," Liskarm claimed. "We already have confirmed kills of several people and beasts. The numbers for each category are in at least the dozens. Maybe a hundred total. He's probably killed even more before arrival."

Orchid blinked. 'Hyper-Lethal Vector'? That's military jargon, ain't it? Just how many lives did he end to receive that designation? She also couldn't help but notice something off about that last sentence.

"What exactly do you mean by 'arrival'?" she asked. "Arrival from where?"

Liskarm fell silent. "...I will debrief you on the way to the objective, but you mustn't speak of any of this to anyone outside the mission."

---

Date: Irrelevant

Location: Space Between Spaces

To say that Six was tripping was putting it mildly. Billions upon billions of images flashed all around Six faster than he could keep track. He looked around for ED-E whenever his eyes could bear the bombardment of colors, but he could never find him. But he did find some strange shapes underneath the armada of visions.

A dragon snarled down at him while her shadow took on a more humanoid form. It cackled and grinned at him like a maniac, pointing at something behind him. He turned to see three starving lions, all circling around him like vultures. Gators snapped at his ankles while demonic beasts soared above. Opposite of the dragon was a massive bear, fur as dark as the night sky. Yet all of them fled at the sound of a strange bellow.

An earthquake went off in his skull. He fell onto a knee as something began worming its way into his brain. A thousand voices whispering into his ear, a contorted chorus singing in an unfamiliar tongue. An invisible force slithered and snaked around his body, tapping his skin at every turn. And though he couldn't see it, he was certain something saw him.

There was that bellowing sound again. And this time he saw the source. Closing in on him was what could be best described as a Ghoulified killer whale. Black rocks protruded from its rotting skin and a red sludge leaked from every orifice. It opened its maw and swam in to devour him. All he could do was brace himself.

Yet the beast never reached him. Instead, there was a blinding light. He could see something up ahead. A roving city on treadmills, with a giant chess piece at the center. A storm of green shards flew toward the beast, slicing through its rotten flesh and spilling gore into the void. The creature retreated into the abyss, leaving behind a trail of blood and gibs in its wake.

The silhouette of a horned rabbit- a Jackalope?- hopped from the roving city, taking on a more humanoid form. It assumed the shape of a young girl, while two more shadows appeared beside her. Both of them were hooded figures, but at least one of them had an obvious hourglass shape. The remaining one was more broad and mysterious though. For a moment Six thought he was staring at the grim reaper.

The child held out her hand. Six however was hesitant to shake it, let alone get near any of them. Then more shadows started popping up behind them. Dozens- hell, maybe even over a hundred of them. Most of them possessed some type of animal trait, such as extra ears or tails. Some of the shadows also seemed to be made of crystalline material. Yet none of them lifted their weapons. They were mimicking the girl's gesture.

Suddenly the aurora lights faded, leaving everyone in the abyss. Then blood-red storm clouds formed above them, crackling with ebony bolts of lightning. Meteors rained down upon everyone, scattering them. Six ran -or swam, hard to tell in a void- towards the city, hoping for some shelter. A blast sent him flying toward the settlement, causing him to scream at the top of his lungs.

An invisible hand caught him, though. He looked to see another female silhouette, this one surrounded by six towering figures. She gestured towards a bunker not far from their position. Six hesitated once again but changed his mind as the storm drew closer. He ran towards the doors and leaped inside. It was deeper than he anticipated, and he ended up plummeting into a rabbit hole. A bright light enveloped his vision, blinding him...

---

Date: September 28th, 1099

Location: Outskirts of Kazdel wastelands

Six gasped as he regained consciousness. While his eyes were readjusting to reality, his ears picked up something. Grains shifting. Wind blowing. His nose caught the scent of dust and sand. Melded circuitry and smoke. His eyes widened as he recognized that particular smell.

ED-E… Six remembered. He got hit by that wave too.

The first thing his eyes were greeted with was the wreckage of the Eyebot. Six broke off into a sprint to reach it and knelt down. This was bad. A lot of the hardware was reduced to smoldering plastic and copper. The metal inside was still melting from the heat produced by the overload. No telling how long it'll take for it to cool down. But worst of all was the internal workbenches. They were burnt to a crisp, useless.

Then he remembered the repair kits. He took one out of a pouch and pressed a button on it. Sparks danced as it came to life, and he began sliding it across the robot. The metal and plastic bits began to cool and remold themselves back into position. Any surviving wires or circuits were tied or soldered back together. Automated repairs were coming back online. Six smiled.

Note to self, He thought. Learn how to make more of these beauties.

ED-E soared to life and spun around like a bee. It chirped happily as it looked at the Courier.

"Welcome back to the land of the functioning," Six said. "Was worried I lost you for a moment."

ED-E emitted a prideful bleep. "That was one hell of a trip, huh?" Then he looked around and frowned. "Speaking of which, where the hell are we?"

Not in a cavern or near a lake, that's for damn sure. They were standing in the middle of some ruins, a small town from the looks of things. But there were fortifications everywhere. Sandbags, barbed wires, blockades. There were even some bodies garbed in what appeared to be military uniforms. But they didn't resemble any army that he knew of, pre-war or post-war.

Then there were the bodies themselves. Some of them appeared to have pointed ears and horns. The skulls of some skeletons also possessed horns, though some had holes for what appeared to be an extra set of ears. And then there were their weapons. The majority of them wielded melee weapons and… bows? Where are the guns, the energy weapons? And who were these beings? A new breed of mutants?

He wasn't the only thing that got teleported here though. Raider bodies and the broken frames of their robotic minions were scattered around the place. Some other items from their hideout- electronic scraps, weapons, bullets, cells, chems, food- were also scattered about. Six helped himself to some rations and bullets, naturally. ED-E could produce energy cells with his workbench... once he got repaired of course. There were also chunks of that obsidian-like material too. It was giving off a lime-green glow. Considering everything that happened with the obelisk, he decided to put some distance between them and himself.

Six drew up the map on his Pip-Boy. It was glitching like crazy, flashing the same shade of crimson as that blast back there. Beneath the static, he could only see a blank slate. Great. Looks like everything on the device was locked up. Status, inventory log, even the map. He'll have to manage his stock and body the old-fashioned way. A bummer, but at least feasible.

There were some tents nearby. Probably where these people used to rest. Maybe they left something behind for him. He decided to take a peek in each one. There were some rations here and some bolts there, but no bullets. No electronics. Not even energy cells. He sighed. Looks like he'll have to be conservative with his ammo. Six went back to the bodies and claimed a crossbow from their dead hands. At least he gets to try out a new weapon.

He went into some of the ruined buildings. Nothing worth taking. He did notice something odd though. All of the writing present- between old papers and what he assumed were advertisements- wasn't in English. Some of it resembled a dialect from one of Graham's tomes. What did he call that tongue? 'Hebrew'? He noticed some bits that resembled vaguely Asian characters. Did the satellite teleport him to China or some other part of Asia?

He saw another tent in the town. This one appeared to be set up near a radio tower. Perfect. Maybe he can get some answers. He made a dash for the tarp, ED-E trailing behind him. He slipped inside and found what he assumed to be a captain's office. It had a folding table, bedroll, storage for gear, even some radios. He fiddled around with the Ham radio, but all he got was static.

Rummaging around the box revealed some basic tools. He unfastened the straps on the Pip-boy and placed it on the table. He opened it up and began to examine it. Just like with ED-E, there were some melted boards and broken wires. He gave one of the new Kits a try, but it didn't do jack shit on the machine. Guess it really was for robots. He decided to dissect the handheld radio next. Maybe he can at least replace some of the parts.

Something was off about the hardware, though. Some of the wires and circuits were glowing red while other components had this green crystalline substance. ED-E let out some unsettled bleeps as the Courier hovered a gloved hand over them. He could sense a certain aura from it. Same as the shockwave and the obelisk. Must have been refined as a conductor or a power source. A small red battery seemed to further cement this.

And speaking of batteries, the fission battery in the Pip-Boy burnt out. Frankly, it's amazing that it didn't combust. He was gonna need a new one, or at least something of a similar lifespan and wattage. Doubtful that the crimson energy would be compatible with the current tech, though. He'd need to study this material even further to even consider an upgrade. For now, he'll just have to discard the old thing. Just because it didn't explode now doesn't mean it won't later.

ED-E bleeped out to him. He was looking at some papers on one of the walls. Six walked over and examined it. Most of them were written in that alien tongues, nothing too interesting right now. But what did interest him was the map. First of all, it was in English (or at least some other Latin-based dialect). Second was all the words on it.

Kazdel. Ursus. Yan. Victoria. Siracusa. Leithanien. Lungmen. Higashi. Rim Billiton. Columbia. What the hell did all of these mean?

But the ones on the bottom-right caught him off. World map. No, that can't be right. This doesn't resemble anything like Earth, let alone old America. Maybe this civilization is just cut off from the rest of humanity? Wouldn't be the first time some folk in a post-apocalyptic world believed this to be all there is.

Six put a hand on his chin. Columbia was the personification of the United States in pre-war memorials. Maybe someone's trying to revive the old-world spirit? They'd hardly be the first. There was an era in Britain named after Queen Victoria. There's a constellation called Ursa Major, so maybe something to do with a Bear? The NCR perhaps? Minos probably alluded to the Minotaur, a Greek mythological creature composed of man and bull. Caesar's Legion came to mind. Yan was a Chinese word, so probably a settlement akin to a Chinatown. Perhaps the Shi had some connection to it? Lungmen-

Wait. He heard that word in the Paladin's holotape. Is that where the masterminds behind the satellite's theft are hiding? Or someplace they planned on raiding? He shook his head. No point in trying to connect the dots if he couldn't understand a damn word at this point. He'd to translate it all somehow.

He spotted a backpack nearby. Larger than his current one, even had a slot up top for a bedroll. He smiled. This will come in handy. He rolled up the cot and strapped it atop the bag. He transferred his weapons and supplies into the new pack, then rebuilt his Pip-Boy. Even if the wrist-mounted device was useless, he still held onto hope for restoring it. If there was civilization here, maybe they could repair it. Only complication would be payment. He'll cross that bridge when it gets to it.

He grabbed a compass at the table and held it up. If he was reading this right, he needed to head north. He beckoned ED-E to follow and the two left the ruined town. He had no GPS, no Fast Travel, and his Transportalponder was a pile of slag back home. But he still has a working set of legs. That's something.

He looked back at the radio tower. While he doubted that he'd get it working again, he could at least get a layout of the landscape from up there. He climbed up the ladder and onto the top platform. He drew out his sniper rifle and began scanning the horizon through the scope. The landscape for the most part was something he was accustomed to; barren wasteland, little to no vegetation. But he did spot some grassland to the east. And something else. Was that... Smoke?

Six sheathed his gun and slid down the ladder, breaking off into a sprint. ED-E chased after him, chirping in confusion. After half an hour of jogging, they entered a savanna and were staring at a rotting old village. The smoke was curling up into a black cloud now. He could pick up bits of ember in the dark stream too. Something diffidently was burning.

It turned out to be a bonfire. People were dancing around it, roasting game, running market stalls, singing songs. This was a thriving settlement. A settlement of… mutants? Some of them had antlers like a stag, others horns. The stag-like ones had the fluffy tails of the deer, while the horned folk had devil-like tails. There were also some pale-skinned people with pointed ears.

But the thing that stuck out to him the most was the black crystals sticking out of their skin. Just like Jigsaw. Was that some kind of infection? No, impossible. What kind of pathogen creates or turns into crystals? There was something else at work.

Six's stomach rumbled. He glanced ahead at the roasting pits. He had to admit all that meat looked juicy from up here. Maybe they'd be willing to trade something for those ribs? He shook his head. No, he was in uncharted territory and he needed information. Even if he didn't, he had nothing to offer to them. And besides, he already had rations for emergencies.

The Courier slid down a slope towards the crowd but ended up rolling down the hill after tripping over a rock. Thankfully he was able to straighten himself back up and save some grace. Many of the townsfolk drew weapons the second he made his entrance. Some of them with swords, some with bows. ED-E let out an alarmed bleep as it caught up with him. It dawned on him that he didn't think this through.

One of them barked something at him, but he didn't understand a word he said. Six chuckled nervously and raised his hands up. "One of you wouldn't happen to speak English, would you?" He asked.

Everyone turned to one another, obviously just as confused by the language barrier. Someone stepped up and managed to break it. It was a pale-skinned man with antlers, probably around Six's age group. He had a faint German accent in his voice.

"Englisch? I believe you mean 'Victorian'?" said the young lad.

"Maybe? I've been living in the wasteland for the last few years, so I'm a bit out of the loop."

One of the older villagers said something to the deer-man, and he retorted back at them in the same tongue. He turned back to the Courier. "So what brings you here, stranger? Going out to war?"

Six tilted his head. "The only thing I've been fighting has been the environment. And raiders. I'm just looking for a technician to fix my Pip-Boy and friend over here."

"Your what?"

Six lowered his arm to show him the wrist-mounted device. "Personal Information Processor. It got fired by this weird glowing black crystal. Kinda resembles the ones growing on you all now that I think about it."

The man's face went from puzzled to stifling a laugh. He couldn't hold back and just let it all out. "Sounds like you've been poking around in one of the ol' Originium mines."

"Originium?"

Now the lad's face was screaming 'seriously?' at the Courier. "You daft, bengel?"

"Maybe. I did get two bullets lodged in my skull years ago."

The man's eyes furrowed as if daring him to prove it. He obliged him by removing his helmet. Everyone lowered their arms when they saw his face. He brushed aside enough of his hair to reveal the scars on his forehead. The next words out of his mouth came out in a serious- if not vitriol- tone.

"A robot dug me out of an unmarked grave and brought me back to a doctor in a nearby town. And no, it wasn't this robot. The one that rescued me had arms. The gentleman patched me up as best he could, but there was some permanent damage. Lost my memories and identity, my mind's not the most stable. So forgive me if I ask some elementary questions for the next hour or two."

"Where's your extra set of ears? Or horns? Hell, where's your tail?"

Six raised an eyebrow. Are such traits common around here? "When I woke up I didn't find any on me. Whatever set of extra appendages or kibble I had were probably cut off by the bastards that tried to cap me."

Some of them gulped and shuddered. He slipped his helmet back on. "And don't worry about them. I've already dealt with the assholes. They won't be hurting anyone ever again. Is there a seat I can take?"

One of the villagers pointed at a tree stump nearby. The Courier plopped his bottom on the ancient stump while ED-E hovered over next to him. He put his helmet back on before he resumed his inquires.

"Have any of you heard of a place called America? The Mojave? Perhaps Japan or China? Britain, The NCR? Earth?"

Those that understood him shook their heads. "Are each of those some type of town or something?" A girl asked.

Six frowned under his helmet. "You… could say that," He said.

If they haven't heard of such words before, then there're two possibilities. Either they're more cut off from the world than he thought, or he's in another one altogether. The second probability was madness, but then again he had faced mad science before. At this rate, anything is possible. He brushed that train of thought aside.

"So what is the name of the world then?"

"Terra, dumkouff," Said a villager. "And if you're wondering which part, Kazdel."

Six put a hand on his chin. If he read the map correctly, that's at least somewhere east. "Anyone here a mechanic or electrician?"

One of the demonfolk raised a hand as she approached him. Six removed the Pip-Boy off of his arm and handed it to her. She examined the object in her hand for a minute before shaking her head. After stripping the Pip-Boy back on he motioned her towards ED-E. The Eyebot let out some protesting bleeps, but a look from the Courier shot them down. Reluctantly it allowed the she-devil to approach it.

Six joined her and deactivated the robot, allowing her to inspect its insides. She marveled at the circuit boards and modems, but she shook her head again and closed the panel back up.

"I've seen some stuff at Great Lungmen," she said. "But nothing like this before. No traces of Orundum whatsoever. Where'd you find this fella?"

"Out in the wastes," Six claimed as he rebooted the robot's systems. "Your friend said something about Originium earlier. What is that?"

The demon girl looked at him in disbelief. "A naturally occurring battery, dummkopf. You'll find it in most pieces of tech these days. Microwaves, smartphones, drones, even cars. Pretty good for Arts too."

"Arts?"

"Magic, fool," butted another horned person. "Fireballs, tornadoes, mudslides, tidal waves, snowstorms. That sort of stuff. You can even make golems if you're skilled enough."

Six blinked under his helm and looked at the villager. Even if his face was obscured, they could sense the words running through his mind. His demeanor right now screamed 'Seriously?', but the man didn't smile or laugh. Then he remembered the Brotherhood corpses back at the drive-in theater. Those crystals can do that?

There was a rumbling sound over one of the other hills. No, growling? Roaring? It didn't sound like a creature, so-

Six's hand instinctively fell onto That Gun. "We've got company," he said.

Everyone grabbed their weapons. Sure enough, several cars drove over the mound and into the air. They landed on all fours in the middle of the settlement with a jolt. To his surprise, they appeared to be humvees. Working humvees. Six's trigger finger twitched as it dawned on him. Anyone who could get a set of wheels working again was not someone to be trifled with back in the Wastelands. He prayed that wasn't the case here.

Several figures exited the vehicles. They all bore the same pointed ears, tails, and horns as the demonfolk present. Their faces were obscured by pitch-black masks with a single glass opening. Most of them wielded bows or blades, with the occasional stick or staff. Two of them were the size of a Super Mutant, one wielding a greatsword and the other a massive crossbow.

One of them- a man with crimson markings- barked something in an alien language, but Six couldn't understand a damn thing they said. Most of the townsfolk froze up, and the figure howled at them again. This time Six was able to pick out an English word; 'Mudrock'. From the sounds of things, it was something of interest to them.

The stag-lad mustered up the courage to confront him and replied in their tongue. The leader -or at least what Six assumed to be the leader- snarled and grabbed the man by his shirt. He bellowed in fury at him, if his tone was of any indication. The civilian scuffed and retorted at him, though he did seem a bit offended. He was thrown to the ground and the masked man drew his blade.

It didn't take a genius to see where this was going. The Courier drew out That Gun and shot the uninvited guest in the arm. He shouted in pain as the bullet ripped through his clothes and dropped the weapon. Six fired more rounds at his chest, but all they did was go 'ding' after impact. The man regained his composure and barked some orders to his men. ED-E shuddered and let out alarmed bleeps.

Should've seen that coming, he thought to himself.

Two other swordsmen charged at him, only for one to explode into a shower of red lights and ashes. ED-E was charging forth into battle, broadcasting its little leitmotif. The other goon backed away and made a run for it, falling prey to an arrow to the skull. Six looked to see the stag-man rallying his fellow villagers. The man shouted something and they scattered, taking positions. He turned to Six and spoke in English again.

"Get to cover, hard case," he shouted.

Six nodded and ran behind a ruined house, ED-E following suit.

"Go help the other guys," he ordered the robot. "Some of them looked a little green for my liking."

ED-E protested with a concerned beep. "Oh don't worry about me," he reassured. "I eat assholes for breakfast."

ED-E eventually complied and flew off, wading past arrows and bolts. Three bowmen took cover behind a humvee and opened fire on the Courier. To his surprise, they were moving in rapid succession. They must have automatic clips attached to their weapons. He smiled. He really could use such a mod. When they were reloading, Six sprinted to a rock nearby and flanked them. One bullet hit the back of a sniper's skull, instantly killing him. The others tried to avenge their fallen brother and returned fire.

A villager appeared from around a corner and sliced off the hand of another. While he was howling in agony that same person slit their throat and stabbed them in the chest. He didn't have time to celebrate as the remaining goon put a bolt into his leg. The man cried out as the arrow pierced his skin and broke the bone beneath, crippling him. Six came to his defense by firing two bullets into the offender's temple. He fell to his knees as they ripped through his guts, clutching at the wound. One more tore through the side of his head and splattered his brains everywhere.

The villager squirmed as the gore fell onto him. Obviously, he'd never seen such a mess before.

"Sorry," Six apologized. "Didn't think his brains would explode like that." He knelt down before him, ripping the bolt out (earning a yelp of pain) and injecting him with a Stimpack. "There, that should do it."

The chemicals began to regenerate the lost tissue and repair the broken femur. The settler thanked him in his native tongue and ran for one of the houses. Six looted one of the fallen's crossbows and examined it. Sure enough, there was an ammo clip attached to the underside of the weapon. Holding the trigger down, Six fired a steady stream of bolts at one of the corpses before the canister ran out of ammo. He grinned. Now that's more like it.

While he was scrounging around for more loot, something collided with him. He looked back and rolled just in time to dodge a projectile. It wasn't a bolt or bullet, though. Rather they appeared to be Energy. Black energy. He looked up to see a robed figure with a stick in hand. No, it wasn't just some stick. It was made from the obsidian material he saw earlier. Was it a wand?

His answer came in the form of another black jolt. Six rolled and fired a few bullets into the figure. They went limp before their body hit the ground. More swordsmen charged from around the corner, but Six crippled the leg of each one. They were literally dragging their feet to him now. He reloaded before they got close and went for a headshot on the nearest one. The bullet bounced off of the forehead though, so he sent another one into the throat. Instant kill.

So the masks are bulletproof, Six noted. Damn. At least I can still aim for an artery or organ.

One of the bastards snuck up on him and slashed at his back. Six growled as the blade shipped away at his armor. That coat cost him an arm and a leg to repair! When the man made another swing Six drew out Chance's Knife and jammed it under his jaw. It didn't reach the brain like he had hoped so he ripped it out and into the neck next. That put the asshole down.

As the corpse hit the earth he risked looking back at the village. The people seemed to be handling this pretty well. While there were some injured so far, none of them appeared to have actually lost their lives. He could hear the stag-lad shouting at the top of a building, no doubt issuing orders. His gut told him that there was more to that man than he let on.

Someone let out a battle cry some distance ahead. He looked and jumped just in time to dodge a dark blur. Something ran right through all of the vehicles and tore them to shreds. Walking out of the wreckage was a towering figure with shoulder pauldrons and cloth over his helm. He was carrying a lance in his hand, its blade about as long as the hero was tall.

Six fired some bullets at the raider, but they just bounced off is armor. He strode towards the hero, swinging the lance around like a club. Anytime Six tried to close in on him he stabbed away with the tool. He managed to slice open the sleeve of an arm so far, drawing a bit of blood. Six hissed under his breath.

He switched out That Gun with his Plasma Defender and fired. The raider screeched as the green goop melted through his armor and into his skin. Six smiled. Much better. He rolled to the left as the bastard charged forth, pelting him with Plasma bolts into his back. The man collapsed in a heap, flesh boiling under the sun.

Someone grabbed him by the back of his head and threw him into a house's side. That same hand rushed over and began battering his skull against the wall until it broke. Its owner flung him back onto the battlefield and into a rock. Six coughed in pain as his torso was crippled. He wheezed as the giant swordsman strutted towards him, laughing at and taunting him.

The horned mutant stopped in his tracks when they heard something. Something roaring. Something fast. The two cranked their necks to see another humvee fly into the frenzy. But this one wasn't like the others. It lacked the rust and wear of the first wave and had a different coat of paint. Something smaller flew toward the swordsman, but he shrugged it off. Yet he seemed… sluggish afterward. Slow.

The car ran him over before he could dodge it. It skidded to a halt and bashed its side into another raider. He heard its doors open and someone had the misfortune of being slapped silly by one. There was an unseen struggle on the other side if the yells and screams were any indication. While the giant was rising onto his feet, Six discharged his Defender at him, burning into his coat and the armor underneath.

The man snarled and charged at him, spinning around with his sword. Another blast jumped from the car, though, slowing him down once again. Six stepped aside and allowed the swordsman to crawl by him. He blinked. What the hell was that? Some kinda stasis field? He shook his head and switched out his defender with the pistol. Two rounds into the back of his skull dropped the bastard dead into the ground.

A bolt whizzed past him and exploded. The other giant had taken point at an old church and was firing from the windows.

"ED-E, we got a problem," Six called out.

The robot beeped in acknowledgment, followed by inquisitive beeping.

"Try to flank him. I'll keep h-"

The man fired another explosive dart at him before he could finish his sentence. It never reached him, though. If anything, it ended up hitting something else. Another humvee from the sound of things. No. No, it wasn't as loud and certainly not as fast. When the smoke cleared, he was staring at the cutest mutant he had ever seen.

Sitting between him and the brute was a lightly tan lass on a motorcycle. She had black brahmin horns and a tail, with long fiery orange-red hair and a couple of braids. She wasn't all that armored either. If anything she seemed to be dressed for a day of sunbathing. In one hand was a giant sledgehammer, the other a shield.

The girl smiled a toothy grin and winked at him. "Howdy," she said in a Southern accent.

Someone leaped onto the roof of the humvee. A blue-haired lass with a dark halo and holograms floating behind her fired a sapphire bust of light at a group of enemies. They either went down in a dazed heap or were trapped in yet another stasis field. A smaller shape- a blond child with fox ears and several tails- scuttered onto the top floor of a ruined building. Her attire was typical for a wastelander, but something about her demeanor seemed off to him. She cast a golden ray of light upon the field from her staff (or rather antenna from the looks of things), draining the raiders of their stamina. Those that didn't fall would be shot down by another wastelander with bunny ears and ebony hair.

Another motorcycle rode into battle, this time helmed by a lad with blond hair and rabbit ears at the seat. He pulled up behind a house for cover and ran into battle with some sort of lance. With a wave he conjured a bolt of lightning into the air, soaring and landing on some goons nearby. Another cycle pulled up beside his, carrying a red-haired chick with a grenade pistol and what appeared to be a railgun. She held the latter up and rained hellfire down on the enemy. Any that tried to get up close was cut down by him. Six could only stare at it all in disbelief.

"Magic," he muttered. "Fucking MAGIC… I'm high, I have to be fucking high."

The ox-girl blocked another explosive bolt and shook her pretty head. "Naw," she said. "Ya ain't. What, ya never seen Arts before?"

Six shook his head back, causing her to tilt hers. "Really? Have ya been-"

A battle cry interrupted them. They looked to see the blademaster in red running towards them, sword now aflame. The bull-girl was forced to leap off of her bike before the sword got anywhere near her neck. Six didn't see any pipes or gas tanks attached to the weapon, though. How the hell was it producing the fire? Was it made of Saturnite?

Now he was flinging streams of fire around at them. Six had to roll, flip, spin, and dance around the blasts to avoid being scorched. The bowman meanwhile kept firing his bolts at the duo. Six tried to fire Sleepytime at him but he couldn't get a bead on them. Not while he was under fire. Then he saw something moving above. He smirked.

Sure enough, the bastard's backside was being pummeled with laser fire. When he turned around to face the robot The Courier let loose with his Plasma Defender. The man cried out as the green goo burned into his flesh. At this point, he'd wager it was causing internal damage too. The girl was keeping the walking flamethrower at bay with her shield, but he could see her sweating like crazy. Eventually, the shield became too hot for her to hold and she ended up dropping it. She yelped in pain and blew at her hand, trying to cool it off.

The asshole used the opportunity to charge at her. Six wasn't gonna let that happen and instead tackled him to the ground. He placed the Defender at the man's forehead and pulled the trigger. All he received was a 'click' and fizzling light. The damn Cell was outta juice. The blademaster kicked him in the solar plexus and shoved him off before he could reload.

He was about to jam the blade into his chest when an arrow buried itself into his shoulder. He snarled and turned around in time to be hit in the knee. He stumbled back and nearly toppled, growling as the projectile cut into his leg. Six was able to replace the Energy Cell during this time, but he opted for using the Knife instead. No need to waste ammo in uncharted territory.

As Six approached him the man swung at him wildly. Every attempt either ended with him ducking under, sidestepping, or parrying the blow. The archer and metal eyeball weren't giving him an easy time either. Six managed to land some stabs and slashes across his body, finally spinning behind him to deliver a backstab. The man let out a cry as the blade severed the connection between his neck and spine.

The Courier yanked the dagger off of the dead body and gave it a good flick. Whatever blood didn't fly off was wiped on his sleeve instead. After sheathing it he took out a Stimpak and injected it into his shoulders. He let out a sigh of relief as it repaired torn muscle and mended a rib or two. He swiftly reloaded his weapons and then turned his gaze back to the villagers.

Turned out it wasn't exactly a clean victory. He counted at least three corpses on the field, all of them middle-aged adults. One of the bodies had a child pinned underneath it, crying her heart out. The blond lad ran over and lifted it off of her, giving her a hug. The bodies were being moved by the townsfolk. There was a somber atmosphere as they went to work burying them, but also a hint of hope. The stag-lad from earlier approached them.

"Thank the Eight you lot came along," he said to the strangers. "If you hadn't shown up-"

He froze as he looked at their humvee. Six turned his attention toward it as well and noticed some new details. The first thing that he saw were the words 'Penguin Logistics'. The next was an oval in a circle. At first glance, it appeared to be a pill, but the upper half curved downward on one side. The Ying and the Yang? No, there was another circle at the top corner. An eye from the looks of things. Was it supposed to be a bird's head?

Someone slapped his back with the strength of a Bighorner. He was nearly thrown to the ground by sheer force, but he managed to steady himself. He looked back to see the bull-girl rubbing the back of her head. He growled and started rubbing his own back. How the hell is she so strong?

"Ya did well out there," she said.

"Watch it," he chided. "You'll break someone's spine with that kinda force."

Good thing I got that NEMEAN implant when I had the chance, He privately noted.

The lass let out an awkward chuckle. "Sawry," she replied. "Sometimes I forget how strong I am."

She looked to see her bike lying in the dirt back at the church. She walked over to straighten it back up and began washing it off. "Hardly a scratch," she said. "Gud. I paid a fortune for this ride."

The fox girl placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. She spoke in that alien language in a rather soft tone. He couldn't understand the words, but he had an educated guess as to what they were saying. The blue woman was moving towards him, calling out to him. He still couldn't understand that tongue so all she got was silence. From where he was standing, those holograms behind her looked like wings. Kinda gives her a fallen angel vibe now that he thought about it.

"You wouldn't happen to know English would you?" He asked.

The girl tilted her head. "Don't you mean 'Victorian'? she replied in an emotionless tone.

Six groaned. "Victorian, English; Tomato, tomato. Just glad to meet someone that can understand me."

She offered a slight smile. "I think I can relate."

"Not that I'm complaining about saving our lives, but what brings y'all here?" he asked.

Her smile and tone didn't change. Creepy. "Oh, they're just here to escort me while I make some deliveries. I'm a Messenger."

"Messenger? Like a courier?"

"Something like that. Why, you've never heard of such an occupation?"

"Just not that particular usage of 'messenger'. Who're you running a delivery for?"

The blue-haired lady looked at the unofficial leader of the village. "Him. I have a letter from a friend of his."

She took out an envelope from her bag and began walking towards him. Six followed and the two engaged in conversation. It was that tongue again, but he did pick out a word going back and forth between them; Brändle. Must be the stag-man's name. Another one popped up, this one more familiar. Mudrock. The man practically jumped at the word alone. He tore open the envelope and read its contents. It was written in that dialect too so he couldn't read it. But he did notice tears of joy running down Brändle's face.

Six looked back at the villagers. The bunny-eared girl was helping them bury the fallen, settler and raider alike. That was surprisingly humane of them. Most other settlements he knew of would've just thrown them into a ditch or burnt them. They did go into two categories though. One of which consisted of individuals with obsidian material on their bodies. Call him crazy, but the crystals appeared to be spreading now, covering entire limbs and bursting out of the bodies as spikes. Hell, some of the corpses appeared to be turning into crystals themselves. Six blinked. There's no way that's normal.

The lad with the rabbit ears was tending to his own bike. Well, 'bike' was putting it mildly. It looked more like a pack brahmin than a motorcycle with all that loot. How the hell was it carrying all of that without breaking down? The gearhead inside of him was rather envious right now. He's just dying to see what makes them tick.

That other redhead was leaning against her own bike, having a staring contest with some of the demonfolk. Her trigger finger itched as her hand hovered over her grenade pistol's holster. She had strange truffles in her hair, almost like that of a pre-war bird. He had to admit, she had a rather nice body.

An idea popped into his head. They're basically a caravan, right? Maybe they could give him a ride? He went back to the blue-haired girl and cleared his throat.

"I don't usually ask for favors but…" Six paused, trying to get his sentences together. "I need to get my robot and some tech patched up. Since you've got a working set of wheels, I was wondering if…"

The blue-haired girl could see where this was going. "I'm not sure if we've got enough room for both of you in the car, but you could ride on one of the motorbikes. Did you have anywhere, in particular, you wanted to go?"

"Great Lungmen, if that's alright."

"That's not going to be our next stop, at least not for a while. You could probably hire a driver to chauffeur you to Lungmen, though."

Six sighed. "They don't take bottle caps as payment, do they?"

Now the lady had a bewildered look on her face. She looked at Brändle. "He's serious, miene dame," he said. "Claims he's been suffering from brain trauma."

The lady looked back at him wide-eyed. It took a few seconds to process before she could give a proper answer. "Brain trauma? And you're still alive? Going back to your question, no. What kind of place would accept such a thing anyway?"

The kind that springs up from nuclear fire. He thought to himself. He let out a sigh. "What do they take then?"

The woman reached into her bag and procured what appeared to be blue dollars. "LMDs. Lungmen Dollars. Most businesses trade for them these days. If you don't have any you could always do some odd jobs here and there. Or barter if you're desperate. As for who can fix your tech, we are stopping by an office in Siracusa. One of our employees could look at your gear if you want."

Six didn't respond for a few seconds. "Would anyone be looking for a hired gun? I can always provide security for caravans."

The woman frowned. "In Siracusa? Probably not. The place has become… volatile over the last decade. My employers may be interested in hiring you, though."

Six looked back at the humvee and pointed with his thumb. She nodded. "Of course, mail delivery is far from our only specialty. We have at least twelve other business ventures if you're not feeling adventurous."

Six looked over at ED-E. "Give me a moment to think about it," he asked.

He and the robot both went into the ancient church. When he was sure that no one was around, he whispered into the machine's audio receptors.

"What's your max speed?" he asked.

ED-E seemed offended at the question at first but eventually relented and answered.

"Thirty miles per hour? Something tells me those things can outrace you, buddy. You're gonna have to take a seat in the car until we can find a repair shop."

ED-E immediately protested against the idea, unleashing a wave of bleeps bouncing between worry and anger.

"I don't like it either, but they're our only rides for right now. They have the layaway of the world and we don't. We need to get more intel before we venture off on our own. For now, just play along. And besides, I still have a radio in my helmet and you have your cannon. If they try anything funny you can just blast out of the car."

ED-E let out some somber notes but complied and hovered towards the humvee. Six made his way back toward the blue-haired woman and cleared his throat. When she had a moment she turned to face him.

"I'll take your offer," he informed her. "ED-E can ride in the Humvee while I go on one of y'all's bikes."

"Do you know how to drive one?"

Six shook his head. "Only ones I've ever seen were collecting rust."

The woman beckoned him to follow her. She shouted something at the redhead with feathers and motioned her over to them. The two bantered with each other in some native tongue before the redhead started whispering in her counterpart's ear. Six could've sworn he picked up pieces of Latin in their dialect, but their voices were too soft for him to confirm this. The redhead had this wary look on her face as they muttered with one another, passing the occasional glare at him. Eventually, she shook her head and walked back to her bike.

The bluehead led Six to the bull-lass instead. She wiped the sweat off of her brow and waved at them as they approached her.

"What can I do for y'all?" She asked.

"Would you be willing to give our mysterious stranger a ride? He doesn't have a license - let alone the knowledge- to operate a cycle."

The bull-girl looked at him in disbelief. "Wha- you can't drive a beauty like this? Have you been living under a rock for all ya life?!"

"Wasteland, actually," Six corrected her. "We've never had a working set of wheels where I'm from. Everybody just walked."

Croissant just stared at him. The shock quickly died out and gave way to her trademark smile. She hopped onto the cycle and patted the passenger's seat. "Hop on then, partner."

Six plopped up onto the backseat and relaxed a bit. He looked around for a seatbelt but was surprised to find none. The girl giggled.

"Ya' supposed to grab onto the driver, silly," She said.

The wanderer's arms wrapped themselves above her shoulders. "Lower," she said. They moved down to her abdomen. "Better."

Three horns sounded off. She honked hers back and all four vehicles sped off. The village vanished from sight and gave way to barren wasteland. He could make out more settlements gathering dust, along with large chunks of that dark crystal all around. Some of them lay in craters, others in the buildings themselves. It looked like they fell from orbit or something.

"This is gonna be a long ride," the girl warned him. "Howler if you need a break or somethin', okay?"

Six let out an acknowledged grunt and nodded. "This thing got a radio?" he inquired.

The lass shook her head. "Naw, not this model. Sawry. But hey, we both got lips. Might as well have a nice chat on the way."

There was a pause. "Oh yeah, we've never introduced ourselves, have we? My friends call me Croissant."

Six snickered. "Croissant? Where'd you get that name from?"

The bull-girl pointed at her horns.

Oh. Duh, six thought to himself. If he weren't clinging on for dear life he'd slap himself silly by now.

"So what's yers then, if you don't mind me asking,"

Six lowered his head as he retreated back into his mind. He tried digging up memories from before the gunshot but nothing came up. All he could see was gunsmoke.

"Six," he confessed. "Or at least it's the closest thing I've to a name these days."

He might not be able to see her face, but he could feel her concern radiating from her body. "The closest? What happened?"

"Let's just say my memory's not the best these days. I could use a guide or two on the outside world, though. Do you mind if I ask you some questions on the way?"

There was a sort of warmth to her now. It must be her smile. "Ask away," she offered.

Notes:

So here we are at last. At the opposite end of the bridge.

The intro was based on those in New Vegas's DLC. Some of you might be wondering why I started off in Kazdel instead of somewhere more familiar like Cheronberg or Great Lungsmen? That's because I wanted to jump into an environment familiar to Six before sending him into the wider world. Plus it's as wartorn as his homeworld, so it fits thematically speaking. Add in the fact that the Sarkaz are a proud warrior race, and the stakes are greater for our Courier.

The same logic went for the Operators introduced- or rather, to their choice of attire. The Vitafield series of clothes focus on surviving in similar environments to the ones in the Fallout series. Except for Mostima and to a lesser extent Croissant. And I know that Mostima usually travels alone, but that will be explained later down the line. And besides, I have some plans for her and Fiammetta

Writing for this fanfic began around the beginning of 2021 honestly. The main reason I held off on publishing it was because of the Rainbow Six: Siege crossover event. That provided context on the differences between Earth and Terra, plus some details on Oripathy. That, and I technically already had another X-Over project going on at the time, but my interest in it has long since burnt out. This was originally around 1098 or 1097 when I first posted, but as time marched on and more events came over onto Global, I pushed the timeline up to 1099.

I already have a rough idea as to where to go with Six's first week or two on Terra, so I have an arc planned for him right now. In the meantime, stay tuned.

Chapter 3: Streets of Siracusa

Summary:

Constants and variables.

In the old days, Earth had a diverse collection of biomes and environments. Mountain ranges, jungles, volcanos, deserts, tundras, savannahs, forests. The list used to go on. The Great War changed the geography of the planet, though. So much land and foliage scorched away, lakes irradiated or flat-out evaporated, mountains leveled into rubble. Hell, even the clouds were radioactive. Even the clouds were radioactive.

Six has rarely seen real snow or forests in his life (at least post-rebirth. Everything before that's kinda hazy). He was much more accustomed to the arid wastes and savannahs of Western America. But as the war-torn ruins gave way to the plains, he started seeing green. He blinked and rubbed the lens of his helmet to double-check on multiple occasions.

Croissant giggled at the gesture. "First time, huh?"

Six nodded. "Seeing this much green? Yep."

The road trip from Kazdel to Siracusa has run about four hours so far. The horned girl- A 'Forte' according to her- had filled him in on the new world. Arts, Originium, Catastrophes, mobile cities, the many nations and races of Terra. What worried him were the tidbits about Originium bullets, though. Apparently, you needed some understanding of Arts- magic- to even be able to use them. Most gunslingers could only muster the willpower to use pistols. Anything bigger or more complex was nearly impossible for most races. Hence why bows were more common on the battlefield. Energy Weapons were almost non-existent, and the ones she knew of were just as likely to backfire on their operators as they were to hit their marks.

When pressed about his Arts knowledge, he confessed to having little to none. He claimed that he merely salvaged the ammo for That Gun and Sleepytime, taking in the others as trophies. When she pointed at his Plasma Defender, he merely shrugged. Told her that it was an experimental weapon he found. He didn't elaborate on the gunpowder and energy cells, though. Humanity had already screwed itself with nukes centuries ago and his generation was still suffering from their ancestors' hubris. He wasn't too sure if Terra could even handle something as mundane as his world's bullets or lasers. From what she told him about her world, there were already knuckleheads itching for a Great War of their own.

He groaned and shook his head. Now he was starting to sound like the Brotherhood of Steel. Still, he couldn't ignore the complications. For one, he had no means of producing 'normal' bullets, so he would have to keep his guns as a last resort. He's already wasted some bullets in that firefight a few hours back, and he wasn't eager to throw away more anytime soon. He probably could sit down and try to study Arts, maybe even get the right casing and size for his weapons. But Originium was expensive if Croissant's bemoaning was any indication, and would require some refinement. He'd have to be lucky to even find magic bullets out in the wilds. Overall, he'll need to learn some archery. Preferably soon.

The group had stopped at a small safehouse an hour back. It was hidden among the ruins of some ghost town, long since abandoned. The group spent the time resting their eyes and limbs there. Six helped himself to some bottled water while Croissant filled him in on the world at large. Nice to know that they had clean water around here.

Like Brändle before her, she had never heard of the factions back home. Not the NRC, not the Legion, not New Vegas, not the Brotherhood of Steel, not even America or China. His hopes of still being on Earth shrank with each 'nope' she gave him. There's still one way to test them. He just needed to wait until nightfall for confirmation.

ED-E was hovering around in the building, inspecting everything. So far, they haven't done anything to him (at least on the surface). Thankfully, none of them could understand its chirps and beeps, so the dynamic duo could always have a private conversation if need be. ED-E was getting rather twitchy, though. Six couldn't help but sympathize with the robot. He was rather paranoid himself, but he's been doing a better job of hiding it than the eyebot so far.

Then Croissant brought up Oripathy. Bad enough that there's literal magic to contend with. But magic rocks that can 'infect' your body, crystallize your insides, and eat up your biomass? Even cause mutations? He shuddered when she described the condition in detail. How the hell can a mineral behave like a pathogen? Sure, uranium can give off rads, but it wasn't a virus or mutagen. Oh, and there's only treatment for the stuff, not a real cure. He'd be wise to steer clear of Originium for the time being.

"So if it enters your body in any opening, your days are numbered?" Six concluded after finishing his bottle of H2O.

"Yep. It's just so sad... 'n scary. Not just the effects on yer body, but how everyone around ya reacts to it all. Suddenly, everybody sees ya as some diseased monster."

That sounded an awful lot like how people reacted to Ghoulification. Fear, rejection, hostility, bigotry, and even persecution. Even after liberating New Vegas, he'd seen people looking at Raul like he was the plague. If it wasn't for his personal restraint he'd have clocked the fuckers on the spot.

"What about you? Have you or any friends fallen prey to this stuff?"

She was silent for a few seconds. "Myself personally? Naw. But buddies of mine? Yep. We're lucky that groups like Rhodes Island are willing to treat Infected like normal folk."

"Rhodes Island?" Six inquired. He could've sworn he heard that name before. From Arcade, maybe?

"Yeah. They're primarily a pharmaceutical company, but they're also the lead researchers into Oripathy. Best treatment on the planet, too. Of course, you'll probably have to work for it if you ain't got any cash. And that's if you're lucky enough to learn about the place."

"That almost sounds like indentured servitude," Six noted. Almost like Vault City.

ED-E beeped in agreement with a quake.

Croissant shook her head. "Not really. They ain't the types to keep leashes on ya. If ya wanna leave, they'll let ya go."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that. Say, ya look like you could use a roof over yer head. Why not sign up with 'em? Or my company, for dat matter? Everybody could use a fighter like ya."

Six chuckled. "Since when did pharmacists need hired guns?"

"Since the beginning, buddy. The world's a dangerous place. And besides, they've been gettin' a bit of fame too lately."

"Oh? What for?"

Croissant took a breath and was about to say something, but the blue-haired woman- 'Mostima' the Forte called her- butted into the conversation.

"I'm afraid that much of Rhodes Island's adventures are classified," she claimed. "And it would be improper of us to divulge confidential information to third parties."

She cast a look at Croissant, earning a sheepish look and head-scratching. She beckoned everyone back outside and into their rides. ED-E was again hesitant to enter the humvee, but some encouragement from Six convinced him to play along a little longer. Six himself was back with Croissant. As much as he envied that blond-haired lad- Leonhardt?- for all his loot, he didn't see any room for a second rider. And frantically, he seemed a bit too dizzy for his personal liking. That other redhead- Fiammetta- has been glaring at him since they arrived at the safe house.

The wheels tore into the ancient road and left a trail of dust behind. Four more hours on the highway, and Six was still trying to adjust to the change in scenery. Part of him was waiting for some spore monster to pop up, but none have so far. He did see some odd shapes over in the grass, though. Some mutant game or wildlife, maybe?

After about three more hours, a large silhouette appeared on the horizon. Six squinted his eyes and leaned forward, almost above Criossant's head. Dead ahead was a giant platform with several buildings on its back. The damn thing was about the size of Freeside at the very least. She wasn't kidding when she said the cities moved. The Think Tank would have a field day studying it.

The city was just sitting in the grass when they pulled up. The caravan found a ramp on the side and drove up it. The headlights flipped on as they entered some narrow tunnels. He could see workers tinkering with machinery as they rode by. Most of them appeared to have canine features, such as ears and tails. Hell, there were even bipedal canines among them. Were they a separate race?

The vehicles came across an automated gate, sealed by magnetic locks if his engineering was correct. Leonhardt hopped off his bike and said something into a speaker at the doors. As soon as he returned, the doors slid into the ceiling, opening the way for the party. And the Courier's jaw dropped.

They were now driving into a bustling city. One untouched by nuclear fire and decay. It wasn't exactly a "modern" design like many of the ruins he had seen in the Mojave or Divide. No, this looked more like some historical site, a tourist destination from some old pre-war ads. There was a sign with many different languages on it, but he wagered they all said the same thing. The English translation was the following;

'Welcome to Da Vinci.'

"I thought we were heading to Siracusa?" Six asked.

"We're already here, technically speakin'," Croissant replied. "This is on the outskirts of their turf."

"So not every nation is a mobile city then?"

"Not a single one, at least. Some are just turf for namesakes."

The party exited the vehicles. ED-E flew back to Six, chirping excitedly.

"Enjoy the ride, buddy?" Six asked.

ED-E let out an affirmative beep. "Glad to hear you're doing okay," Six whispered back. "So far, our new friends have been polite. But keep your guard up. Anything can change in a heartbeat."

The fallen angel gathered everyone up and began leading them around the town. This wasn't American architecture. Screamed European if his history books were correct. Italy perhaps? Certainly would explain the name of the place. He was concerned about her earlier remarks, though. Something about volatility.

He saw movement in the corner of his eye. Something skittering in the shadows of an alleyway. He swore he saw suits with sunglasses lurking in the shadows. Not the kinda attire he'd expect to find in a town like this. Then again, neither was his armor, and the people they passed by were giving him all sorts of looks. Might be a good idea to change clothes when he has the chance.

The little girl with all those tails -Suzuran- clung pretty close to the party. Hell, one could say that they were shielding her from sight. Was this her home? Or was she worried about running into some ghosts? He had the feeling that he wasn't the only one with secrets.

At last, they came upon a small restaurant of some form. Above it was a green-and-yellow sign that read 'Pete's Super Subs!'. Their mascot appeared to be a sparrow happily munching on a sub. Before they even entered the establishment, his nostrils were bombarded by an armada of aromas. Freshly baked bread, melting cheese, grilled meat, fresh vegetables. His mouth was already drooling and his stomach growled like a feral dog.

A chuckle escaped Croissant's lips. "Skipped breakfast, 'ave we?" she teased.

"Maybe," Six admitted. "Was in a rush to get to some shelter. Speaking of which, shouldn't we look for yours before dining?"

"You're staring right at it," Mostima said as she opened the door.

The party walked into the shop. It had the typical layout of a pre-war subhouse at first glance. Some booths here and bar stools at the counter ahead. He could see workers fixing the food at the back, no doubt the kitchen. They were cutting up some meat back there, but he didn't recognize it. He hoped it wasn't the 'strange' kind.

There was an enormous man with a horn at the counter. He kinda reminded Six of some pictures of rhinos in old-world books. What did Croissant call his race? Cerato? Whatever he was, he seemed to be a gentle giant at the very least. Judging from his position at the counter, he was the cashier (or at least it was one of his roles).

"Welcome to Pete's, what can I fo-" He stopped mid-sentence as his eyes fell on Six and ED-E. The Courier noticed his arm twitch for a split second and noticed a change in his eyes. There was a sense of dread in them, like a wounded Gecko at death's door. Six began to tense up too, ready to sidestep the big lug if he thought about tackling him. Thankfully, Mostima intervened.

"It's okay," She assured him. "He's with us."

He looked back between her and the duo before relaxing. Six did the same.

"New Blood, or is he from Rhodes Island?"

"Neither right now, but he certainly has potential. Found him wandering the wastes just outside of Kazdel."

The rhino-man seemed intrigued now. "Ah, a Sarkaz huh? He's not one of those blood-sucking types, is he? 'Cus I don't see any tails or horns on him."

Six shrugged. "Just another enigma," he said casually.

He gave him a stern look. "Well, any friend of Mostima and Croissant is a friend of mine… so long as you behave. Help yourself to a hot meal in the back."

Six nodded, and they met the party in the kitchen. Mostima and Croissant were fixing themselves sandwiches while the rest stood near a trapdoor. Just like everyone else, the cooks were giving him the eye. He couldn't blame them. He was an unknown variable. Once the two ladies got their food, Mostima knelt and pressed a combination into a keyboard on the trapdoor. It slid open with a hiss and revealed a ladder.

"Go on ahead y'all," Croissant said with a full mouth. "We'll catch up."

One by one, the outsiders climbed down. When they got down to the bottom, they found themselves in a white-and-red space. There were some desks here and there, all occupied by someone. A man ran back and forth with papers, speaking into something resembling a handheld radio wedged between his ears and shoulder. A large screen at the back was playing some type of program, though what he wasn't certain of. It appeared to be a live broadcast, resembling that of pre-war news reports. Too bad he couldn't understand a damn word coming through.

Something crashed into him. No, someone. He could feel hands and knees on him, but his eyesight was disoriented from the impact. When his vision returned, he found a mess of red hair pressed up against his chestplate. The offender looked up to face him and immediately bounced off with a nervous giggle.

It was another angel- erm, Sankta- like Mostima. Whereas the latter's features were pitch-black, hers shone like the sun. She had a white jacket with a tan-grey shirt underneath it, black boots, and fingerless gloves. But what caught his attention the most was the submachine gun on her back. In all his visits to the Gun Runners, he had never seen a gun like that before. All that he was certain of was that it wasn't pre-war.

She was speaking in an alien tongue as he rose back onto his feet. From the way she was moving her hands, she was trying to issue an apology. A tap on the shoulder and a couple of words from Leonhardt seem to have addressed the language barrier. Her surprise was brief, but noticeable before she cleared her throat.

"Sorry about that," She repeated in English. "Had a busy day today, so my brain's not-"

She glanced past his shoulder and noticed Mostima approaching them, sandwich in hand. Her jaw dropped and she ran past him, nearly knocking him over again. She was babbling something to her, trying to hug her even. Mostima had her free hand to her face, keeping her at arm's reach. She said something in a cool manner, something that the redhead didn't react positively to. She quickly put on a puppy face and whimpered, but the fallen angel's mood didn't change. He couldn't decide whether to laugh at her or pity her.

They must've been talking about him now because the normal angel turned her attention back to him. Or rather, all over him. Before he could ask what the hell she was gawking at he felt a whirlwind around him. A lot of weight had been lifted off of his person and he panicked. All of his guns were gone! The crazy bitch was gawking over them in a pile, drooling even. She was speaking at a pace that'd put a radrabbit to shame as she examined each one.

"Hey!" Six shouted. "Those are mine, asshole!"

The girl didn't pay any attention to him. She was too busy playing around with his guns. Six growled as he stomped towards her. He must've startled her because she accidentally discharged a bolt from the defender. Hot Plasma flew towards the back and splashed into the screen, eating away at it and anything else unfortunate enough to get struck by strap droplets. Every soul in the room froze up and looked back at the gunslingers.

The girl had a stunned- maybe even horrified- look on her face as Six removed the Energy weapon from her hands.

"That was a Glock 86 plasma pistol you just fired, little lady," he hissed. "Do you know what those things can do? I'll tell you; they can turn people into fucking puddles! You could've melted someone with that kinda firepower!"

Six swiftly placed the Plasma Defender back into its holster as he shot daggers at the angel. His hands couldn't decide if they wanted to ball up into fists or uncurl like the talons of a Deathclaw. A smaller hand fell upon his leg, though. He glanced down to see Suzuran, with a concerned look on her face. All of that anger and fury evaporated as his gaze met hers. He took a deep breath and looked back at the Sankta.

"You shouldn't play around with Energy weapons," he said in a calmer voice. "They're more dangerous than regular guns. Bullet wounds can at least be treated. Disintegrations or melting into pools of goo? Not so much. If you really want to look at any of them, just ask next time."

People were already whispering behind them. It took a minute before everyone resumed their work, trying to forget about what just transpired. Six also realized that he may have said more than he should've. There's a good chance that her friends are gonna be asking all sorts of questions about the plasma pistol. For now, they seemed content with that little mishap.

The redhaired angel returned his other guns with an apologetic expression, like a dog that had just disappointed its master. She smiled softly as he reclaimed and holstered his weapons around his person. Suzuran walked over beside her.

"Don't hold it against her," she said, gesturing at the angel. "Her people hold a great deal of reverence towards firearms. Herself more so than any Sankta we know."

ED-E butted in at that moment, chirping at its user. "Ah, right. Repairs," Six remembered. "Thanks for reminding me. Any good mechanics or electricians down here?"

The girl with the lightbulb pointed at a door near the destroyed screen. Six waved thanks to her and went through it. Inside was an elderly man hiding under his workbench. Judging from the overalls and tools, he was the mechanic of the base. He peeked his head out as the door opened and was somewhat startled by the stranger and the robot. He brushed off the tension after a few seconds and put on a hearty smile. Much like Fiammetta, he had feathers growing out of his skull. What did Croissant call their people? 'Liberi?

"Not every day a merc comes down here," He said. "Especially with that kinda gear."

"I'm not for hire,'' said Six. "Well, not yet, at least. My robot and Pip-boy got hit by an energy wave from some Originium. Fried the latter's guts and melted some circuits on the former. Don't suppose I can get them fixed down here?"

The man walked up to him as he flashed his Pip-Boy. "Now that's something you don't see every day," Hoover noted. "Where'd you find it?"

"From a gentleman that patched me up one fateful night. He figured I'd make more use of it than he ever did."

"And the robot?"

"From my old workplace. I used to be a Courier before an… incident. Found him on an old workbench after my recovery. No idea who left him, though."

Six unstrapped the device from his arm and handed it to the old man. ED-E cautiously floated towards him, letting out some wiry beeps. The man dissected the Pip-boy first, whistling as he studied it.

"You weren't kidding," he said. "Looks like the only thing intact is the hard drive. Hold up, this thing uses tape! Who the hell uses tape as a storage medium these days? And is that copper? Everybody switched to Originium decades ago."

"Can you fix it or not?"

The man shook his head. "Hmm, blocky as hell. Ain't like anything I've seen before, and I'm the ancient one around these parts. No traces of Orundum in it either. Whoever managed to build this doohickey must've been one hell of a scavenger. And something's missing too..."

"That would be the battery. It took the brunt of the blast and leaked out radi- erm, fluid. Was worried that it'd burst into flames before I found a repair shop, so I discarded it."

"Guess I can't blame you in that case. But doesn't look like this tech is compatible with Originium batteries. I might be able to transfer its data onto a more modern system, though. Maybe even reuse the casing and give you more up-to-date hardware."

Six smiled under his helm and handed the man a holotape. "I'd be obliged. Use this to update the operating system if you really plan on making an upgrade. What about payment, though?"

"If you're broke, ask Croissant or Exusiai. They'll throw money at just about anything."

"Exusiai?"

"Sankta with red hair, blows up crap on a daily basis. Can't miss her."

So that's her name. He thought to himself. "Thanks for the tip. I'll go talk with them."

ED-E protested in agitated chirps. "Oh, right… I forgot about that bit," Six confessed. "I'll watch over you in that case while he repairs your workbench."

The man pulled up a chair for Six to sit on. "You look like you could use a tutorial on modern technology anyway. Might come in handy if your buddy shorts out again."

"Thanks."

The Courier shut ED-E down and opened him up for the old man. He peered inside and inspected the guts of the machine.

"More copper, no surprise," he muttered. "And… What the hell is this?"

"Uh, silicon?"

"Never heard of it."

Six blinked. How the hell could a technician not know about silicon? Guess this place didn't have it in abundance like home.

"Looks like some of the wires were soldered back into place, though. Your handiwork?"

Six nodded. Something told him that they didn't have repair kits like those raiders back home, so he kept his mouth shut. The man began extracting and disabling the ArmCo workbench, taking pictures with some type of camera along the way. Smart move, really. Streamlines the rebuilding process.

The birdman measured each of the parts he removed, writing them down on a sheet of paper and even tracing their shape on another. He typed something on his computer, and a machine in the background whirred to life. Six spun his head around to see something resembling an oversized microwave. There was also a spool of cable attached to the side of the device. Something being drawn and melted- no, remolded- into the machine. It smelled like plastic.

The man pulled out some electronic components from another box and placed them on the table. Wires, circuit boards, even a hard drive. Took him a couple of minutes to find compatible plugs for the Pipboy, but he succeeded and hooked its hard drive to his computer. The other one was too, and he started copying the files from the former into the latter.

Replacing the radio and internal flashlight was trivial for the elder. Trying to reintegrate the Geiger counter into the newer hardware was trickier. As he tinkered with the Pipboy more and more, he noticed some design flaws with the casing. By Six's own admission, the buttons and tabs were in rather inconvenient locations. He confessed to wanting to build a new casing but didn't have the time to do so.

Six looked back at the strange device and was stunned to see a near-perfect match of the ArmCo components. The man chuckled.

"They don't have 3D printers where you from?" he asked.

Six shook his head. The repairman let out another chuckle. "You really are living under a rock, kid," he said. "Go on ahead and install the needed parts. Should have cooled down by now."

Six took the parts and began repairing ED-E while the man went back to work on the Pipboy.

"You know, an outfit like that is gonna turn all kinds of heads around here," the elder noted."Might wanna consider a change in wardrobe."

"Been considering that, but I'm a little broke right now. And I don't think the locals here will accept bottle caps as payment."

The man blinked and looked at Six in bewilderment. "Seriously?" he asked.

Six sighed. "Yes," he said. "My people do use bottlecaps back in the wastelands."

"Y'all couldn't find or use anything else?"

"Nothing as abundant or light as bottlecaps."

The man made a short 'hrmm' sound before continuing. "Fair enough. We might have some spare suits for our Messengers around here somewhere. Check with the ladies, and they can point you in the right direction. Croissant would be more than happy to do a little shopping for you, assuming you don't go overboard. Even she has her limits. If you're really desperate, you could try signing up as a model for some company."

Six snickered. "Me? On a walkway? What good is a tuxedo or swimsuit against bullets?"

"Believe it or not, there are some that sell body armor, too. Terra ain't exactly paradise, you know, and a lot of corpo's would like to keep their customers alive during Catastrophes. And all of our top agents served as models for the industry at some point or another."

"Sounds like a nightmare for an intelligence company."

The elder sighed. "You have no idea, kiddo. I swear, chaos always seems to follow those ladies wherever they go."

Six had finished the repairs and shut the panel at that point. He flipped a couple of switches, and the eyebot's antigrav unit roared to life. The robot rose back into the air and looked at its user.

"Feeling great there, ED-E?" Six asked.

The robot gave him an affirmative beep, followed by playing his radio. "Woah... I'm a mighty mighty mighty man, I'm young and in my prime! Yes! I'm a mighty mighty mighty man, I'm young and in my prime!"

"Glad to hear it," he turned to the elder. "How's progress on the Pipboy?"

"Not good," the birdman said. "Between compatibility issues with modern hardware and slightly awkward design, I'm gonna have to give it an internal overhaul. That'd also require me to build a new shell to house it all in. And you know, tweak the design a little for convenience's sake."

"Well, aren't you a perfectionist?"

"It's a requirement in my field, kid. You can stick around if you want, or go do some shopping up on the surface. Your call."

Six considered his options. The man clearly didn't want anyone breathing down his neck while working, but this was also the only Pipboy on the planet right now. If it gets damaged any further, that's it. No more VATS or subspace storage. There was also the matter of his weapons.

He leaned in towards ED-E's audio receptors. "Hey buddy, is that subspace storage chip back online yet?"

ED-E emitted some negative beeps. Six frowned. ED-E's default storage compartment can only hold so much mass. He can only conceal so much of his arsenal, too. If what Croissant said about guns being a rarity is true, then his long arms are gonna draw a lot of attention. He had already just gotten robbed by that redhead. He doubted that he'd fare better against worse parties than her. Then he spied a safe behind him.

"ED-E, stay with the gentleman while I go back to the surface," Six ordered.

ED-E gave an acknowledging beep while the Courier unpacked some of his loot. He removed his riot shotgun, GRA ripper, crossbow, laser RCW, MF Hyperbreeder Alpha, A Shining Light in Darkness, Sonic Emitter, GRA AEP7, Sleepytime, Thump-Thump, Protonic inversal axe, and sniper rifle from his inventory and set them beside the workbench. The man whistled at the sight of them.

"Hell of a collection you've got," he said.

Six rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "I'll admit that I'm a bit of a hoarder when it comes to weapons. Been meaning to break the habit for some time. You mind if I leave these with you during my stay here?"

"Hardly. But what about you? Do you honestly feel comfortable leaving them with me?"

"Hey, ain't like you can use most of them. And considering what you said about Exusiai, they'll be safer with you than with her."

Now the elder was crossing his arms. "I'm an engineer, kid," he retorted with a playful huff. "I can figure these babies out in due time."

Six was about to exit the room, but he felt like he forgot something. He turned back to the repairman.

"By the way," he warned. "ED-E will vaporize you if you try to open him or my weapons up without express permission from me."

Six left the room and made his way back toward the subhouse above. The birdman looked at the robot with a slightly worried look.

"He was kidding about the vaporizing part, right?" The technician asked nervously.

All he got from the robot was a coy series of beeps. The man sighed and went back to work on the Pipboy.

---

Croissant was still chowing down on subs when the Courier popped out of the bunker. She waved at him as he approached her.

"Howdy," She greeted mid-chew. She paused to swallow her food. "What can I do for ya?"

He sighed. "I might need some help paying for repairs. And food. And maybe some clothes too."

The girl finished her meal and pulled out her wallet. After a quick inspection, she looked back at the Courier with a grin. "Yeah, I've got time and munny for a little shopping spree."

"Wait, for real? Why?"

"Terra's a dangerous place, buddy. Might as well treat everything as your last supper."

She shouted something at the cashier and called him over. She pointed at something on the menu behind him and back at Six, saying something in that Asian language. The man accepted her payment and disappeared into the back for a minute. When he returned, he was carrying a wrap and a soda bottle. Sic could make out some meat and tato in the former, among other things. The drink itself was in a plastic bottle rather than glass. The dark color indicated it might've been cola.

Six accepted the items and lifted his helmet to sip the drink. It was cola alright, with a fruity tint to it. He took a bite out of the wrap and chewed it away. Right off the bat, his tongue picked up salami and ham among the meats. Some peppers too. There was something green and crunchy in there, too. He couldn't name it, though. Croissant took the lead and guided him down the streets as he finished his meal. He refused to fully remove his helmet, though, so he often bumped into some things and the occasional villager. Croissant chided him for it, but he didn't care. He was a bit too paranoid right now to even consider exposing his face.

He finished his food by the time they got to the sign had a picture of some people in adventuring gear, traveling through a snowy mountain. It read 'Everest, Home of the Brave.' The inside of the shop resembled one for sportswear for the most part. Most of the clothes didn't resemble any from Earth, though. If anything, they seemed… updated? Streamlined? He couldn't quite find the right words to describe them.

They also had some climbing gear and bows in the back. Hell, even some guns too. Those were rather expensive, though. From where he was standing, the price for the bows was in four digits. The firearms, in comparison, were five or even six. He sighed. Something told him that even Croissant wasn't willing to fork that much into a weapon. Speaking of which, some melee ones slipped past his radar. They ranged from knives to hammers to axes. Those were rather elegant-looking than anything back in the wastes.

Some signs were hanging from the ceiling, each with a logo and name on it. No doubt showcasing someone's products. He was honestly surprised to see that corporations survived in this world. Hell, it looks as though they were thriving in it. Most of humanity had lost the ability to produce anything after the Great War. Here was evidence of working factories. Part of him wondered if they were plagued with the same issues as the ones back home. He wouldn't be surprised.

Croissant sprinted off to the register as soon as they set foot inside. She was gawking at something on display behind the cashier. When he caught up to her he could see why. Staring down at them were mannequins, each with a different set of attire. One of them was a black trench coat with silver-grey- lapels and scarf, plus a hat of a similar colorscheme as the finishing touch.

The other one was what caught the young man's interest. It appeared to be a full set of combat armor, helmet included. It didn't match any that the Courier had worn before, though. If anything it resembled the kind used by the US Marines during the Great War. That armor's pretty difficult to come by on Earth. From what he heard it was second only to Power Armor in regards to protection. The commando inside of him was just itching to grab the damn thing.

The more cautious side of him on the other hand favored the trenchcoat. It covered up enough of their identity and seemed lighter than the marine's outfit. Plus it was less likely to draw unwanted attention in these strange lands. Maybe if there wasn't a civilization nearby he'd pick up the armor. But right now he didn't have that luxury. And besides, it seemed cheaper than the marine armor anyway. He didn't want to put any more debt on the Forte (or himself for that matter) than he had to.

Both of them had some type of weapon displayed on them. The trenchcoat had an automatic crossbow in chrome, with an ornament resembling a wolf's head on the main body. The armor's mannequin was holding a rifle of some form. There was a sign beside each of them, giving the customers a bit more information about them.

Manto d'argento
From the masterminds behind the Willpower and Trace series, this trench coat will bring out your inner Noir spirit. Fear not, good citizens, for any wearer shall be protected by the poly-laminated threads and flak jacket underneath. Included with this set is the Wolf's Bane, guaranteed to strike down evil wherever it may lurk. The shadows know!

Coastal Marine
For the few proud enough to answer the call, Pioneer presents you with the Coastal Marine. Based on armor used by the Columbian Army, it provides protection for every combat scenario in any environment. Included with this set is the Radicalization, a custom-made Originium rifle for the best Casters in the field.

Six tapped Criosssant's shoulder and pointed at the coat. She smirked and drew out a card from her wallet. It looked like a keycard at first glance, but it was quite small, actually. He could make out a number on it, but her thumb covered it up. The cashier nodded and went to work on removing the trench coat from the mannequin and handing the garbs to the duo. The employee pointed to a sign reading 'changing room' at the back of the store. Six nodded and ventured forth over there, grabbing a pair of tinted glasses on the way.

As soon as he shut the door, he began removing his combat armor. He placed his Elite Riot Gear into his backpack and switched to the Manto. He smiled as he examined his new look, finishing it with the hat and glasses. He looked like one of those pre-war comic book heroes from Hubris. What was his name again? Something like 'the grey cloak'?

He exited the changing room to find Croissant waiting for him. She did a double-take and looked him up and down.

"Holy cow," she said. "That you Six?"

"No," the Courier sarcastically replied. "I'm the fucking mailman."

The Forte let out a short laugh. "Still camera-shy, buddy? I don't see why you have to hide that cute face of yours."

"Let's just say that I pissed off more than a few people," Six confessed. "Better safe than sorry."

Six gave the outfit some good pats. Those armor plates beneath the coat felt sturdy enough, but he wasn't sold on the ballistic fibers. Might be a good idea to give it a little test run before venturing out.

"Hit me," he instructed Croissant.

She gave him a confused look. "'Cuse me?"

"Hit me with one of your fists. I wanna test the durability of this armor."

Now she was bewildered. "Aw… okay? Just not enough to send ya to the hospital, right? I'd rather not foot that kinda bill."

Six nodded and braced himself. She gave her arm a good wind-up before throwing out her punch. The offworlder underestimated her strength. He was sent flying out the door and skidding into the street. The armor surprisingly held up against the friction and the concrete. If he had crashed into anything, though, he'd probably need a Doctor's Bag. A sheepish-looking Croissant stepped out of the store, rubbing the back of her head. She helped the Courier onto his feet and wiped the dust off his coat.

"Don't say I didn't warn ya," she nervously jested. "How do you feel?"

"Bit rattled," groaned Six. "But otherwise fine. Kinda surprised that it endured that."

He straightened his coat's collar and hat. Croissant bent her head at an angle and managed to catch a glimpse of his eyes. Six noticed this and pushed his glasses up further.

"You may have to foot a bill back at base," Six noted. "I still need to pay for my equipment's repairs."

Croissant smiled. "Leave it to me."

The street lights flickered on. Nighttime was approaching them. Time to get moving. The duo began a short trek back to base when they heard a scream. Viscous laughter followed soon after, and they ran towards an alley.

Some thugs were pummeling away at a man. Their attire seemed to be greaser jackets and jeans, for the most part, sunglasses too. The man was shouting in a pleading tone, but the men ignored them. If anything, they seemed to be grinning more and more by the second. Six's fists balled up. He was about to march towards them when the Forte grabbed his shoulder.

"Hold up," she whispered. "We don't know what kinda heat they're packin'. Might wanna do a bit of recon first."

Six turned his head and was about to retort, but he bit his tongue. Much as he hated to say it, she was right. One of them could be hiding a wand under their sleeve for all he knew. He saw a water spout not too far from them. Seemed rather sturdy. He ran towards it and clambered up onto a roof. He crouched and snuck along the ridge, staring down at his prey-to-be. By now, the victim had a black eye and a broken nose. One of the goons was drawing out a knife from a sleeve.

Six didn't wait for them to strike again. Leaping from the roof, he grabbed the knife nut by the back of his head mid-fall and slammed it into the ground. In that same instant, he rolled onto his feet and up at another one's face. Before he could react, Six grabbed his shoulders and headbutted the bastard. While he was dazed, Six pulled off a Ranger takedown and brought his boot into the man's rib cage.

The last one stumbled onto his bottom and was crawling away. He shouted something at Six but once again he didn't understand a word he said. The Courier resorted to something more universal; He drew out his knife, grabbed the asshole by the collar, and held the blade up to his neck. Now he was staring into the wolfman's soul.

"[Terrifying Presence] If I were you, I'd best skedaddle while I'd still got legs." He snarled. "Now."

He threw the man to the ground and watched as he scrambled onto his feet. He left behind a trail of dust and ran off into some dark alley while his friends were rising back up. The knife-wielder brought his blade back out, but a firm hand grabbed him by the wrist. He yelped in pain as it snapped and spun around to see Croissant smirking. She stomped on the knife and shattered its edge, leaving only the hilt. Both remaining men panicked and ran after their buddy.

Six knelt and helped the villager up. "You okay, pal?"

No response. Croissant managed to start a conversation with him in another tongue, though, and he seemed relieved. After a minute of back and forth, the girl turned back to the Courier.

"He'd like us to escort him to the nearest doctor," she informed him. "Just in case they or their buds come lookin' for payback."

Six pounded a fist into his palm, creaking his neck. "They're welcome to try," he said with a smile. "Think we can get a dictionary afterward? Or a bunch of travel guides? I'm really behind on my Ital- erm, Siacusean."

Croissant snickered. "We really need to get you a job," she said.

The walk to the doctor's office wasn't a long one. Croissant and the native took the lead while he covered their rear. In less than ten minutes, they found the clinic. To their surprise, the place was already packed. People were either lying on mattresses or sitting in chairs. Some of the people appeared to be simply bruised, others with broken or even missing limbs. This brought back memories of Forlorn Hope and Old Mormon.

A nurse with rabbit ears came out from a door next to the registry counter. He let out a frustrated sigh as his eyes fell upon their guide. "Don't tell me," the Cautus said. "There's been another attack."

"Another?" said Six. "Those common around here?"

"Not until recently. Not since those greasers showed up and started a gang war."

Six looked at Croissant. "Hey, don't look at me,'' she said with a shrug. "Not like my buddies and I know everything goin' on."

Six stepped towards the aide while their guide took a seat. "You look like you're swamped here," Six observed. "Need a hand?"

"Please tell me you've got medical experience," said the nurse. "The last person who tried to help nearly amputated a patient's leg."

"[25 Medicine] I do. Had my fair share of scrapes to hone my skills."

The nurse didn't seem too convinced. "Let me call my boss," he said.

He hollered something in his native tongue. A woman with fox ears appeared out of the same door a few seconds later and glared at him. There was some fresh blood on her coat.

"What?" she asked. "Can't you see I'm busy?"

"This man wants to help us," he replied. "Think we should le-"

"By the Nine, you don't need to ask me. Especially during an operation! Give him some tools and let him get to work."

She slammed the door shut and rocked the building. The nurse and heroes covered their ears and winced in pain from the sharp noise.

"Don't mind her," the nurse said. "Her bedside manners have been slipping for the past few days," He pointed to another door. "Lemme unlock that for ya and you can take whatever you need."

As soon as the next door swung open, Six stepped inside. There were some cabinets and lockers, along with stands and medical trays. He also saw a chemistry set and a water fountain. Sx took some of the tools and found some Doctor's Bags in an open locker. He checked his own bag for chems. He had some of each from back home: Buffout, Fixer, Med-X, Hydra, Psycho, Healing Powder. There were still some Stimpaks and some of their Super variants left as well.

Six smiled. He rarely used any drugs himself, but he always kept a small supply for emergencies. He also bet that he could cook up some of them in this world too, or at least substitutes for them. Sadly, this place didn't seem to have much in the chemistry department.

As soon as he gathered his supplies, the Cautus gave him a medical report. It listed everything from the patients' IDs (or lack thereof), race, condition, and other notes. Thankfully, it was all in English, too. Most of these were rather basic: broken bones, cuts, and the odd burn here and there. Shouldn't be too difficult.

Six turned to Croissant. "You any good with a needle?" he asked.

The Forte shook her head. "Nope," she confessed. "But I might know someone who is. Lemme head out for a bit and I'll bring 'em over."

Croissant left the building, and Six began treating the people. For the next thirty minutes, he was placing braces on people or stitching wounds. While cleaning one off of a Feline- fairly obvious name there- the bunnyman knelt down beside him.

"Aren't you worried about that girl?" he asked. "This neighborhood isn't exactly the best place for a lady."

"She can handle herself," Six replied.

The Cautus's eyes furrowed. "Are you willing to bet that?"

"Dude, she saved my ass at Kazdel today. She threw me across the street to test out some armor and broke a goon's wrist. I think I can safely say that she'll be fine."

The man sighed. "But there's always a bigger fish," he said. "I've seen some of the new gangsters around here, and they've got some brutes on their side. She might be a Forte, but even her people have their limits."

As soon as Six finished his current patient, he flashed That Gun at him. He froze at the sight of the pistol.

"That's why I'm around," Six said. "I fought plenty of brutes in my life. Any goliath stupid enough to cross paths with me gets their brains blown out."

The man gulped as the Courier sheathed his gun. "What do you know about the gangs here?"

The man scratched his chin. "Well, we've got some greasers from outside the city. No idea where they came from, but they're already making a splash here. They've been picking fights with just about anything that moves. The local gang here is from one of the Mafia families in the capital. Extortionists and thieves, but they keep to themselves otherwise."

"Either group give this place trouble?"

"So far, no. Guess they aren't interested in the crippled and wounded."

A bell rang and a door swung open. Six turned around and pointed his gun at whoever dared to enter. Thankfully, it was Croissant with a short cloaked figure. The being's face was obstructed by a white fox mask, something clearly of Japanese design. He could see a golden foxtail or two poking out from under it. The antenna they carried quickly clued Six into their identity.

She didn't seem to recognize him, though, pointing her tool at him. It was only when she saw the gun that she calmed down. Croissant let out a nervous giggle.

"Brought our mutual friend here," she said. "She's willing to lend a hand."

Six couldn't help but notice that she didn't refer to Suzuran by name. He welcomed her over, and she went to work on the remaining patients. They seemed more relaxed with her around, beaming with positivity even. Croissant tossed him something, and he caught it. It was a small book, easy for him to pocket. The title was 'Traveler's Basic Dictionary: Victorian Edition.' He flipped through the pages to see quotes in several languages. Spanish, French, German, Russian, Japanese, Chinese, even some Native American tongues.

"Thanks," Six said. "This will be a lifesaver."

Six and Suzuran had finished tending to the patients in the lobby. Not long afterward, the doctor entered, the blood on her lab coat now drying off. She looked at the two strangers and placed a hand on her hips.

"Thanks for the aid," she said. "Glad to see that there's still some good in the world."

"You wouldn't happen to have any reward for the effort, would you?" Six asked.

"Not in the economic department, sorry," she said. "But I could give you some supplies or books if you'd like."

"Books sound nice. I am a bit rusty on my Medicine skills."

The woman went back to the operating room and brought out some magazines and books. Six placed those in his backpack and left the building with the ladies. Croissant looked at her watch and frowned. It was 9 PM. Past time to head back to base. She motioned for the others to follow as they left the clinic.

The girl was rather twitchy during the trip back. Her gaze was constantly shifting from one spot to the next. Six couldn't help but do the same, hovering a hand over one of his holsters. Only Croissant seemed to be at ease, leading the way as before. Seeing her like this did calm Six down, but not the little girl. What could she be afraid of?

Someone leaped out from behind a fountain and tried to crush Suzuran with a hammer. She rolled just in time to dodge it, leaving him open for a blow from Criossant's own weapon. One hit was all it took to knock him out cold. Five more goons popped out and surrounded them, mainly wielding melee weapons.

Six was tempted to draw a gun, but he shot the idea down. No, that was going to bring attention to him (and by extension, his allies). He drew out Chance's Knife instead, assuming a combat stance. He scanned each goon, trying to study them. One of them was struggling with holding a weapon in his hand. His other one appeared to be in a cast.

That same gangster was sneering at Croissant, pointing an accusing finger at her. He shouted something to all of his friends, and their focus shifted onto her. There's no doubt, this was one of the thugs they encountered earlier. The other two were nowhere to be seen, however. They must've abandoned them after the last run-in. These thugs, on the other hand, didn't seem to be as smart.

One of them approached her with a two-handed axe, with a buzzsaw attached to it, no less. The goon flicked it on and grinned as he got close. Croissant was ready to spring at him with her shield, but Six took the initiative. He slashed across the man's cheek and over his eye, causing him to jump.

"That was just a warning shot," the Courier said. "Any closer and it's off with your head."

That stunt only angered the greaser. He unleashed a frenzy of slashes, trying to hack the hero into pieces. Six danced around the buzzsaw and managed to slip a cut or two of his own. He ended the man's life with a stab in the throat, cutting his windpipe. While the body fell, another goon managed to flank him and bash his head in with a bat. Six lay there dazed as the asshole reeled up for another swing.

Croissant brought her hammer down on him before he could do the same. Despite her strength, the man was merely stunned by the attack. How he survived was beyond Six's guess. A shout caught their attention, and they saw another creep chasing after Suzuran. Six took a knife from the dead man's jacket and threw it at the bastard. It embedded itself into his back, but it wasn't a killing blow. All it did was shift his attention towards Six.

He snarled and pulled out a wand. A burst of black hit Six in the chest, but he shrugged it off. He charged towards the wizard and danced around more bolts as he drew closer. He swung Chance's Knife at his throat, but he brought his arm up in time to catch it. He screeched as the Courier gave it a twist, slicing the limb off. The knife then buried itself into the side of his skull. He was dead before he hit the floor.

Two more goons hopped into the battle. One of them was carrying a crossbow while the other dual-wielded maces. The latter easily towered over everyone and had a face resembling a Super Mutant. He had some horns too, but they seemed more organic than the demonic ones of a Sarkaz. Was he one or from a similar race? He didn't have time to ponder as a bolt struck him in the chestplate.

He ducked and rolled behind a trash can, the disposal unit taking another bolt for him. Six dashed toward another telephone booth, ducking behind it and drawing out his crossbow. He heard someone stomping towards him and turned to see the strongman again. This time, he threw both hammers at the Courier, forcing him to roll out of cover.

Glass and shrapnel exploded between the combatants, forcing Six to cover his face. A fist sent him flying into a wall, knocking the wind outta his lungs. He felt a rib snap as he fell onto his knees. He heard the giant charging at him with a battle cry. Then he heard a strange sound. A 'bling' or 'ding', maybe a chime. The man was caught in a stasis field.

Six saw Suzuran holding out her antenna, levitating. The solar panels on her tool were glowing with a brilliant golden light. As soon as that energy made contact with the Courier, the pain subsided. This second wind allowed him to maneuver around the bastard and out of harm's way. He spotted one of the hammers sticking out of the rubble. He grinned as he pulled it out and swung it at the nearest legs.

The man returned to normal space-time and let out a scream of agony. Bones snapped under the hammer's weight, and he dropped to the floor. Before he could rise, another one hit him on the side of the head. Croissant winked at Six before being pushed back by the bowman. He tackled the asshole to the ground and shoved his knife between his eyes. He didn't get back up.

The last two gangsters had turned their attention to Suzuran. While she was pelting them with magical bolts, one of them got close enough to grab her by the throat. She hammered him with the rod, but he didn't seem to notice. He pulled back her hood and removed her mask. As soon as he saw her face, he did a double-take and dropped her. He was babbling like mad, and Six could only pick out a single word in that jumbled mess: Lisa. It sounded like her name.

Six drew out That Gun and fired a couple of bullets into the man's skull. The rest of the clip went into his buddy. One in the throat, two in the chest. Suzuran reeled back as she watched the goons drop like flies. While Six was reloading, she quickly retrieved her mask and propped up her hood. Croissant approached her and knelt to her level.

"Ya alright kid?" she asked.

Suzuran nodded. "I'm fine. I just got caught off guard by them. It won't happen again."

Six joined in on the conversation. "Sorry you had to see the bloodshed, lass," he said. "Couldn't help but fall into instinct."

"It's okay. This isn't my first time seeing… someone's lights go out."

Six whipped the blood off of Chance's Knife and sheathed it. "We should get moving before more people show up."

Suruzan nodded. Six took the front while Croissant took the rear. The Vulpo stayed between them, trying to keep her head down. The Courier had That Gun out and was scanning the area like crazy. Without ED-E or his Pip-Boy he felt pretty vulnerable. No motion tracker to pick up movement or VATS to aid in targeting. ED-E was pretty useful for picking out cloakers back in the Mojave. He had none of those right now and it was putting him on edge.

The trip back lasted for several minutes. Six practically held his breath until they made it inside the subhouse. The cashier and the cooks were nowhere to be seen. The bunker was likewise more or less a ghost town. Everybody must've gone to the barracks by now.

Suzuran tore the mask off her face and cast it aside once they were in the bunker. Croissant yawned and stretched her arms out.

"Whoo, I'm beat," she said. "I dunno about y'all, but I think I'll hit the hay for tonight."

Six was the next to stretch his limbs. "I need to see a certain gearhead about some tech before I can call it a day."

Suzuran was silent for a good minute. Both her comrades were starting to get a bit worried before she spoke up.

"I should be getting some rest, too," she finally said.

Without another word, she left the party. Six wasn't gonna let her off the hook easily, though. Something's going on around here, and she was connected somehow. He was sure of it. He would've given chase, but Croissant stopped him.

"I know that look," she said. "You smell something fishy an' you wanna get to the bottom of it."

Six looked back at her. "Was it really that obvious?"

"Yep. And I don't blame you for whatever conspiracy theories you're conjurin' up right now. But now's not the best time to ask her questions. Especially after we jus' pulled her outta mortal danger."

Six turned his gaze away from the Forte. "Yet she came to this town anyway. She knew something like this might happen, and she still went with y'all. Why else would she try to keep a low profile?"

Croissant placed a hand on his arm. "That's her business. And if she doesn't want to divulge her story to you, you should respect her decision. Diggin' 'round would just hurt her. And besides, my buds an' I haven't been snooping around in yers, have we?"

Six didn't like that last comment. He turned to look her dead in the eye. "Is that a threat?" he asked.

"Just pointing some things out. Give her some time to catch her breath."

"The gangs outside might beg to differ. She has intel on them, and I doubt-"

"We ain't amateurs, Six. We're professionals. Slime like those thugs washes off real easy. We'll be fine."

Six removed her hand from his shoulder. "It ain't the thugs that worry me," he said.

The Courier split off from the horn-girl and made his way back to the repair shop. The birdman was finishing up the Pip-Boy when he walked in. He was about to say something when he saw him. Or rather, his new outfit. The elder backed up against the wall and drew out a magnum. ED-E got between the two of them and beeped at the elder, trying to calm him down. Six mentally slapped himself.

"Woah woah!" he called out. "It's just me. How's ED-E?"

The elder relaxed and approached the young man. "You? Jeez, you just gave me a heart attack. I could've shot you," He chided as he sheathed his weapon. "But to answer your question, he's fine. Been all quiet while I finished that PDA. Certainly has better manners than you, though. Seriously, you could've at least knocked."

The man grumbled under his breath and resumed his work. Six sighed as he took out his Ranger helmet from his backpack and placed it on the table.

"Can you switch out the radio on this thing, too?" he requested. "It used to be connected to the Pip-Boy and ED-E before the incident."

The man finished piecing the Pip-boy back together and picked up the helm. "Hmm, that might not technically be necessary. Lemme have a look."

The man pried open the commlink with that screwdriver. "Hmm, no Originium. No surprise there. Fairly simple in comparison to the whatchamacallit. Shouldn't take too long."

The man knelt down and began rustling through some spare parts. Six decided to give his shop another look around. All sorts of parts were piled up in bins and drawers around him. Not just electronics, but mechanical parts too. He's seen some pieces of tech too, TVs and computers and whatnot. Some of the latter seemed portable if the attached keyboard were any indication.

Then Six noticed a sewing basket sitting atop some boxes. He gently removed the basket and peeked inside the containers. Leather, cloth, plastic, even some metal. Six took some of the materials and a needle. He smiled as he took out his Elite Riot Gear and began patching up its duster. Once all of the holes and cuts had been sewn shut, he placed the armor back into his backpack.

The man had finished installing the new radio and handed the helmet and the Pip-boy to him. Right off the bat, Six noticed some changes. For one, the screen was brand new, all glossy-like. For another, the knobs and dials have been moved around a bit too. Hell, the casing itself felt different, too. Six glanced down to see the old casing and buttons for his Pipboy neatly tucked in a shoebox. Booting it up revealed the hardware changes.

Pip-OS v

COPYRIGHT 2075 ROBCO(R)

LOADER V1.1

EXEC VERSION 41.10

16GB RAM SYSTEM

5 TERABYTES FREE

NO HOLOTAPE FOUND

LOAD ROM(1): DEITRIX 303

The interface had been updated. Now the tabs were STAT, INV, DATA, MAP, and RADIO. While he was swiping through each of them, a completely different interface loaded out of nowhere. Six gave the pip-boy a quick tap and accidentally opened something up. Some kind of gallery. Must be a biometric device underneath. Six scratched his head, trying to figure out how to close the thing when the man came to his rescue. He pushed down on the bottom and slid his finger some. The window shrank as he brought his digit up.

"Guess they don't have any smart devices back home, do they?" the birdman asked.

Six shook his head. "This… is honestly overwhelming for me," he admitted. "Uh, I don't usually ask for help, but…"

The man chuckled. "Don't worry, I'm used to teaching folk how to run things. Let me show you a few tricks."

For the next two hours, they discussed and fiddled around with the latest technological trends. The man- 'Hoover' he claimed his name was- taught him the basics on smart screens, Bluetooth, wireless connections, the web, emails, streaming, radios. He showed him how to use applications, create accounts, security, antimalware, web safety 101. He showed him how to surf the web, what sites he'd recommend, and ones he'd steer clear of. He also gave him some fair warnings about digital transactions and subscriptions.

But the biggest thing he showed them was how he managed to compress the entire Pip-Boy's data into a single app. On the front page was the face of the iconic Vault Boy. And to Six's relief, tapping it brought up the old interface again. All of the notes and holo-recordings he had previously gathered had been converted into a type of file and uploaded into the machine. It should also be capable of copying and/or transferring files between storage media now.

When class was dismissed, Six shook Hoover's hand. "Thanks for the lecture," he said. "Maybe now I can finally get some rest. Where're the barracks?"

"Down to your right. Mostly bunk beds, but there are probably private rooms for more shy folk."

Six picked up his helm and placed it in his pack. He gave the man a quick nod and was about to leave the exit when he remembered something: payment.

Shit. Six thought to himself. Hope he doesn't mind late fees.

"So, um… What's the cost for all those upgrades?" he asked nervously.

"Nothing. Exusiai took care of payment while you were gone."

Six blinked. "Wait, the gun-chick?"

"Yep. Probably as an apology for the… incident with one of your weapons. You should thank her when you get the chance."

Six was still trying to process what he had just heard. That crazy girl actually paid for his gear while he was away?

"I'll be sure to do that in the morning. For now, g'night."

Six waved and exited the repair shop. The man waited for a few minutes before taking a couple of flash drives. Both had copies of the Pip-boy's original database. One for himself, one for his employers. He felt a bit guilty about hiding these from him but you could never be too careful these days. That man was an unknown variable and he could go on a rampage any minute now. And besides, he had some interesting listening material.

The man plugged a drive into his PDA and opened the program up. He navigated his way to the Misc slot in inventory and selected a particular folder; The Wasteland Codex.

"After the massive success of the T-45 in Alaska, the scientists at West-Tek continued their work on power armor…"

---

Six, meanwhile, was making his way to the barracks. He probably could rent one on the surface, but didn't have the money to pay the fees. And besides, his gut has been rather jumpy since they arrived on the scene. He didn't want to sleep on the bunk beds, too exposed. Even if ED-E were to guard him, they'd see his real face. Wouldn't take long to find out he's an alien.

Thankfully, one of the backrooms was open. A king-sized bed and a couple of nightstands, plus space for some luggage. Six set his backpack down and locked the door. Piece by piece, he removed his disguise until he was in a tank top and boxers. The young man then plopped down on the mattress and crawled under some blankets. Felt just like the Presidential Suite back at the Lucky 38.

"Think you can handle the night shift, buddy?" Six yawned.

ED-E emitted a confident bleep. "Thanks… Been one hell of a day."

ED-E let out some concerned beeps. "Them? I don't think we need to worry about them. You still got that cannon, right? And the ArmCo workbench?"

ED-E responded with a positive beep. "Good. I think I can afford to be more lenient with Energy weapons so long as you can make the MFCs."

Six stretched his arms one last time before sinking into the bed. "Well, night, buddy."

ED-E chirped as Six turned out the lights. It hovered next to him, facing the door. If anyone were foolish enough to break in, they'd be in for a massive headache.

Unfortunately, a future complication was lying in wait outside the subhouse. Standing around in the corner of the street was a Lupo in a grey tuxedo. The man typed a number into his smartphone and brought it to his ear. He waited for it to finish ringing before a distorted voice picked up the line.

"What do you want, meatbag?" It snarled. "This better be good."

"The Lily and the Penguin have entered the Pond. Repeat, the Lily and the Penguin have entered the Pond."

Notes:

And here we go. Day one of our adventure on Terra has come to an end. And already he's making waves with some of the locals.

Exusiai was thrown into the cast for similar reasons as most other Operators present. She has an alternate costume for an environment that wouldn't be out of place in Fallout, but she's not justified in wearing it right now. That, and I have chosen her to be a bit of a foil to Six. Similar fighting styles, different personalities, and experiences. We'll be seeing more interactions between them down the line.

Some of you might be wondering why we moved from Kazdel to Siracusa. I blame the rerun of the Code of Brawl event. It reminded me that there were some mafias in the Fallout universe, and I thought it'd make sense to integrate that element into here.

If it ain't obvious by now, the Manto d'argento and Coastal Marine are based on the Silver Shroud attire and Marine armor from Fallout 4. I figured that the former would fit in the noir/mafia kinda background for Da Vinci.

Pete's Super Subs is a reference to Pete's Super Submarines, better known today as Subway. I thought it'd be funny to place it here, given Arknihgts' own homages to real-world companies and brands.

EDIT:

Some people pointed out a couple of things. One, leaving Hoover to work on ED-E and the Pipboy without supervision. Hell, looking back on previous chapters, the only thing that really needed to be fixed was his internal workbench. There wasn't much need for a direct upgrade of the actual hardware. Guess that plothole flew by me during beta. The Pipboy, on the other hand, Six isn't too worried about. Probably because whatever data could be copied by them would be worthless. At least to most parties in his mind.

Another person reminded me that the Junk Rounds perk existed. There's a slight problem with that. You need 5 tin cans, one scrap metal, and one case. All just to make a single bullet. Might be good for pistols, not so much for rapid-fire weapons. Pack Rat could help with the weight issue for supplies, if memory serves, but that's about it.

Chapter 4: Oaks and Elms

Summary:

When the world refuses to give you bullets, you improvise.

Date: Early 2270's(?)

Location: Indeterminate, Wastelands

In the days of America, there was a sense of law and order. Rules written into law, someone to enforce them, traditions and morals of varying degrees ingrained into the people. But there's always some hypocrisy in the rhetoric. When anyone perceived as an outsider breaks a law, their back is broken. But if someone is considered 'part of the family'? A slap on the wrist. And if laws truly kept order, then the world wouldn't have been nuked, would it?

The world today was the wild west. For better or for worse, everyone was free to choose their destiny or try to impose one on others. The NCR and the Legion are trying to bring back the old tradition of law and order, and they've certainly made strides. But order is nonexistent if there's no one to enforce the laws… or if the law exists solely to create strife and paranoia.

The Legion only answers to Caesar and no telling what will happen when he kicks the bucket. The NCR has its fair share of golden hearts and bright minds, but they can be drowned out by snobs and con artists. Such people don't need a majority to stay in control. They just need enough support to rig the game… or simply remove the other players. As much as any citizen likes to boast about how they can defend their families from tyranny, most would quietly bow their heads to anyone with power if it means short-term survival. Some of those monsters prefer to maintain the illusion of civility, while others don't give a damn. Why should they when nobody dares to stand up to them?

Today some pricks weren't feeling generous. A gang of stereotypical bullies was punching away at a kid in the middle of town. Most of the adults were ignoring the commotion. Why should they be concerned with some brat being pummeled into the earth? It wasn't their child. A member of the community, sure, but one of their kin? Nah.

A kid waltzed up to the bullies and tapped one of them on the shoulder. When the other kid turned around, he was met with a sucker punch and a stomp on his ribcage. The other jerks turned their gaze to see who dared interrupt their fun. One of them charged at the newcomer with a wooden bat, but the interloper blocked the swing with his arms. He grabbed the asshole by the wrists and pried the weapon from his hands. A swing to the head knocked him cold.

The leader went on the offensive and managed to land a blow to the head. This sent the kid staggering back into the first bully, who had just gotten back onto his feet. With one arm he restrained him, the other yanking the bat out of his hands. The "alpha" of the pack proceeded to beat the living shit out of his face until the boy spun around and used the second jerk as a meatshield. His leader didn't seem to mind, though. And that was his mistake.

When the bully finally released him, the child punched the goon in the throat and sent him crashing into his boss. Just as the leader shoved his exhausted and bruised minion off of him, a boot smashed into his face. The boy retrieved the bat and started patting it in his free hand. The second bully had woken back up, but he froze as soon as the boy looked into his eyes. That same glare paralyzed his two buddies.

"Leave," He snarled. "Now."

The bullies ran off. The kid's attention was brought to the crowd around him. Some of the adults looked disappointed, furious even. Others seemed pleased, even cheering for him. He shifted his focus on the victim, helping them back onto their feet. They were missing a tooth and had a black eye.

"You okay?" The boy asked.

The other kid nodded. "Head's spinning and my jaw hurts, but I'm still standing," They said.

The boy smiled. "Let's get you to the doctor," He said.

The two went to the local medic of the town. The man's face was blurry now, but he was a lean figure. Holstered on him were a .44 magnum and a bone saw. He looked away from his radio to see the two children enter his office. He smiled at the sight of the boy, but his expression changed at the sight of their new friend.

"Lemme guess," He started. "You stopped another fight."

"Nah," The boy retorted. "This one couldn't fight back. They pounced on him like coyotes. Can you help him?"

The doctor- the closest thing the boy had to a father- knelt and inspected both of them.

"Well *static*, you got a black eye and a broken nose. Looks like there's an open wound on the back of your skull too."

Then he shifted focus to the other child. "Your friend's got a black eye, busted lip, missing tooth. How does the rest of y'all feel?"

The boy patted the back of his head to feel something warm. He reeled it back to find a patch of blood. Weird. He didn't feel like his cranium was busted. Maybe he was as headstrong as some folk say. He shrugged.

"I feel fine," he said.

The other kid didn't feel so great. Their hand was on their abdomen and the other on their shoulder. The doctor sighed.

"Let's get you kids patched up," He said, picking up his bag.

The two each took a seat on the bed and awaited treatment. While the second child was getting his share of stitches and stimpaks, the hero looked out a nearby window. There was a dust storm approaching the town. It was loud and it was moving fast. Wait, that didn't sound like the wind howling through. It sounded more… metallic?

The next thing he knew the building was on fire. The ceiling was crumbling away and he narrowly dodged a piece of debris falling into him. He leapt outside just as the doctor's office collapsed. As the boy rose back up he saw a swarm of men in suits. All of them were carrying some type of energy weapon and they were disintegrating people left and right.

His father-figure was in a firefight against some of the gangsters, his bullets ripping through their armor and flesh. The boy crept around the burning village, trying to remain out of sight. Unfortunately, one of the bad guys spotted him and grabbed him by the neck. He was brought to his eyes' level and he found himself staring at a literal monster.

The best way to describe it was a bipedal Nightstalker. He was wearing the same suit as his fellow mobsters but he had the scales, teeth, claws, and tail of the wasteland creature. He hissed and rattled his tail with a wide grin.

"Well well well," He said. "If it isn't the brat from Big Eight. You and the old man made a messsssss back there. And we're ssssupposed to clean it up. Starting with you..."

The mutant reared his head back and lashed out with his jaws-

---

Date: September 29th, 1099

Location: Da Vinci, Siracusan Ourskirts

Six awoke with a cold sweat and a short scream. ED-E let out an alarmed beep and flew over to him. After catching his breath the Courier turned to face the robot. He looked around the room, trying to figure out where the hell he was. Then the memories came flooding back to him. The drive-in theater. The cave. Kazdel. The town…

Six shook his head. "I'm fine," Six told the robot. "Just had a bad dream is all."

Was it? For some reason, it felt real to him. Maybe it was just a lucid dream. Or maybe it was a flashback? No way, nightstalkers didn't walk on two feet and talk. Or maybe it was both? Maybe his broken brain was trying to piece together his past again. Wouldn't be the first time.

Six brought up his Pipboy. 9 AM. He unwrapped himself from his blankets and rose back onto his feet. There was a knock at the door. ED-E let out an alarmed bleep and hovered toward the barrier. Six held up a hand and put the trenchcoat over his body, followed by the hat and glasses. He creaked the door open to find a bunny girl on the other side. What was her name again? Was it Amber or April?

"You okay?" she asked.

"Just a bad dream," Six said. "You're April right?"

She smiled. "Yep. And you're Six?"

Six nodded with a grunt. "There a shower down here? Or at least some breakfast upstairs?"

"Yes to the second one. The first… maybe? I'm just as new here as you are. Maybe ask Exusiai or Mostima? Or would you rather have me do that?"

"The second option."

April turned to leave, but Six held up a hand. "Wait," he said. "If you see Exusiai, tell her I said 'thanks'... and 'sorry for the outburst yesterday.'"

April nodded. "If I see her, I'll let her know."

She hopped off into the distance. Six shut the door and took a seat back on the bed. He thought about taking a nap but something told him that he wouldn't have much time. So I decided to investigate the room for a bit. There was a wardrobe near one side of the bed and a desk on the other. He didn't see those before. Must've been too tired to notice them last night.

He went to one of the nightstands and opened it up. There were a number of things in the nightstand's drawer. Magazines, a mirror, books, some travel tissues. He grabbed the mirror and gave himself a brief examination. His face has been growing a faint beard for the past few days. He personally preferred a clean slate over a hairy bush, but it wasn't hairy enough to warrant a shave yet. His hair was a mess but it suited him just fine. It wasn't even that long anyway.

His eyes shifted to the scars on his forehead. These were the remnants of the gunshots that changed him. Constant reminders of a life lost to the mists of time. He furrowed his eyebrows and gritted his teeth. He lost everything that day. His name, his memories… Any evidence of his old self was long gone. Now he only had jumbled thoughts and feelings. The past teaches the present lessons for the future. Those who do not remember it are doomed to repeat it. Then again that saying generally applies to history. Maybe he shouldn't worry about it. Maybe he should.

Six inspected the wardrobe next. There was a hooded bathrobe and some spare pajamas of varying sizes. Even undergarments. He also noticed a laundry bin next to the wardrobe. Six removed his clothes and placed them into the bin. Just as he got his robes on he heard another knock. He walked over to it to see April again.

"Found it," she said. "Just down the opposite hall. Everyone else has already left so you should have free reins over it."

Six nodded and looked back at ED-E.

"If anyone asks for laundry, let them take the basket," he ordered. "If the backpack, give them a warning shot."

ED-E gave him an acknowledged chirp. Six grabbed some fresh clothes and made his way down to the shower room. He passed by the offices and risked a glance. Everybody was busy at their desks again, paying no mind to him or the rest of the world. He found his way to a couple of locker rooms, not unlike those from schools or colleges. The men's room had a private shower away from the rest of the faucets, tucked away in a corner. Six set his clothes down on a bench and hung his robe beside the door.

The inside of the shower was what he expected. It was essentially bare-bones, with a shelf or two for supplies. Drain at the center and a bench for anyone to sit on. The showerhead did have a cord and seemed to be removable. Six took down the item and gave it a brief inspection. He'd never seen a design like this in the Lucky 38, let alone anywhere. Maybe he should make some modifications to the restroom back home… if he ever returned that is.

He placed the hose back up and started washing off. The dirt and grime he built up in the last few days gave way to fair skin and scars. Some of them were from injuries he suffered in the past. Others were from all of the implants he installed unto himself. Veronica and Lily have both expressed concerns about them in the past, but he dismissed them. You either adapt or you die. Arcade and Boone were at least a bit more understanding of that.

A few minutes of washing later and Six got out of the shower to dry himself off. With a new set of clothes, he made his way back to his room. April was waiting for him. What did she want now?

"Something I can help you with?" Six asked.

She shook her head. "Honestly I was thinking that I could help you," she said.

Six resisted the urge to snort. "Really? How?"

"Well you fancy yourself a gunslinger, but bullets are expensive these days. I figured that a scavenger like you might benefit from a little archery lesson."

"Archery? You mean with a crossbow."

She smiled and drew out her bow. "Nah, the old-fashioned way. You're not always gonna find bolts and crossbows that are compatible with one another. Bows and arrows, though, don't need all those fancy measurements or modifications. Plus they're more common in the wilds and easier to craft anyway. Interested?"

Six put a hand on his chin. It would probably save him resources and caps- erm, LMD- down the road. And from the looks of things wood was more common than scrap metal too. The fact that she also mentioned a hunt implied there was game around here.

"Give me a minute to change and I'll meet you upstairs," he said. "I need to grab something to eat on the way out, though."

She nodded. "I'll see you at the entrance."

Six entered the room and began changing into his Ranger gear. The wardrobe had been opened. The laundry bin was now empty. ED-E made an inquisitive beep at him as he put his armor on.

"So you overheard everything?" Six said. "And from the looks of things, the cleaning crew took yesterday's clothes with them."

ED-E let out an affirmative beep.

"You wanna join us? I don't think anyone here will enjoy your wit as much as I do," he joked.

The eyebot shook and let out an irritated bleep. Then it stopped and made its own sly remark.

"Wha- hell no this ain't a date."

Another cheeky boop came from the Duraframe.

"Yay yay, I'm the chick magnet here. Thank you for reminding me. Another comment like that and I'll introduce you to some real magnets."

That got under the skid plate of the eyebot. It let out a disturbed beep and quaked.

"I dunno, I just might at this rate."

The Courier strapped his Pip-Boy back on, the biometric sensors booting all of its readings. Radiation levels, compass, ammo counters, waypoints, IFF markers, motion detector, vitals (health, hydration, hunger, stamina/AP). It was transmitting the data directly into his brain via a neural implant he found at Big Mt. He had to thank Doc for installing it if- when- he got back.

He gave VATS a shot. Time slowed to a crawl as it analyzed ED-E. Six grinned. Good. It was about time he got it up and running again. This was gonna be his personal ace up his sleeve in these lands. The duo exited the room and rendezvoused with April. There was some food in containers out on the counter. He saw meat, eggs, muffins, toast, cereal, fruit, juice, and coffee. They really have everything here. And certainly fresher than the stuff back home too.

Six gorged on a couple pieces of toast and an apple, earning him some startled looks from the workers. He grabbed some bottled water on the way out and followed the Cautus to the garage. Another humvee was running and waiting for them. This one had a turret at the back of it. And in the driver's seat was Exusiai.

"About time girl," she exclaimed. "What took you so- oh."

Now she was pulling at her jacket's collar. Six could see where this was going.

"Look, I accept your apology, ok?" he said. "And I'm sorry about snapping at you yesterday."

That seemed to relieve her some. "Oh, okay. All's forgiven." Her gaze drifted onto ED-E and she did a double-take. She hopped out of the car and made a beeline toward the robot.

"Oh hi there, little guy! What's your name?" she cooed.

ED-E backed up with an unnerved beep. Six snickered.

"What was that about chick magnets?" he whispered to the eyebot.

ED-E retorted with a blast of angry bleeps. Exusiai got her act together and went back to the steering wheel. The party entered the vehicle and the angel drove them out of the city. Six's eyes were glued to the green fields for the rest of the road trip. All that flora, all that food and resources… all wasted in the Great War. Part of him was rather envious of these people. He and every wastelander had to scrape the bottom of the barrel just to survive. Here these guys were swimming in gold.

Half of him wanted to see their world go up in flames, suffering as post-apocalypse America did. But the more rational part shot down those dark thoughts. He wasn't Caesar or the Enclave. He wasn't a monster, not a spiteful spirit like the ones that ruined his home. He wanted to see a world without all that meaningless suffering. It was childish, but he could hope and dream. And such concepts are why humanity still endured in the present day.

The car came to a stop. Someone nudged him on the shoulder and pulled him out of his daydream. He looked to see April, pointing to an open door. Six brought up his Pip-Boy to inspect the time; 12 PM. He closed the device and exited the car, finding himself between a field and a forest. He turned back to the former and saw a small grey shape at the top of a hill. They were a long way from the town.

"So… what exactly are we hunting, if you don't mind me asking?" Six inquired.

"Deer, rabbits, foxes, squirrels, boars," April lists on. "It'd be a good idea to keep an eye out for berries. And mushrooms."

"Any flora and fungi I should avoid? I'd rather not die of food poisoning."

She took a small book out of her pouch. "Some notes of mine. For now, let's focus on finding a nice spot for practice. Ex, guard the ride for us will ya?"

Exusiai gave a salute and an affirmative "hmm!' ED-E on the other hand made a curious- and slightly frightened- bleep.

"You can either keep an eye out for grub and game, or stay on the defense with Mrs. gun-nut."

The angel retorted with a short 'Hey!' and crossed her arms. ED-E didn't find this amusing and flew to the Courier's side. Now Exusiai was pouting like a child. Six resisted the urge to laugh as his company went into the forest.

Now the Courier truly was in alien territory. Trees, shrubs, fertile dirt, mold, moss. It had a strange smell to it too. Something he never smelled before. It must've rained here recently if the fresh mud was any indication. This kind of ambiance seemed… tranquil to him. Calming. Like he could forget about the struggles of the world here.

April let out a nervous chuckle. "Uh, wow. Anyone else getting deja vu here?" she asked.

"Maybe…" Six confessed. "Why?"

"This is honestly my first time in this kinda environment. What about you?"

"Mine too," Six said. "Guess neither of our homes has this much flora."

"Guess not… so where are you from?"

Six lowered his head. "I… don't remember actually. Been traveling for as long as I can remember. None of the lands I ventured through was anything like this, though. They were all savannas and deserts and whatnot."

"Ah, sounds like Rim Billiton."

"The Rim of what?"

"Rim Billiton. Most people think of the biggest mining corporation, but it's also a place and country. Lotta Cautus like me come from their turf."

"Where exactly is that on the globe, if you don't mind me asking."

"Southeast corner of Terra. Why? Jogging a memory?"

Six shook his head. "Nope. Pretty sure I came from out west. You do have outdoor experience right?"

April snorted. "Duh, it was part of my job back home. Used to hunt before I became Infected. Moved out because rent skyrocketed after that."

"Damn. What a bunch of assholes."

April shrugged. "At least I don't have to deal with them anymore. Terra's full of jerks, and some in power try to make life as difficult for the Infected as possible. Just have to make do with whatever opportunities we've got."

She stopped walking. There were some rows of old trees up ahead, about their heights. Their upper halves were lying in the dirt beside them, rotting away. Some more logs were also closer to the heroes themselves and seemed sturdier. April set her bag down and took out a piece of chalk.

"This looks like a good spot for practice," she said. "Give me a minute to mark some of these and we can start class."

The girl went to work on the trees while ED-E positioned itself at the logs. Six crossed his arms and waited for a good minute before she was done. He took the time to survey the area some more. There were some animal tracks here and there, mostly the size of a Molerat's feet. There were some birds chirping around them too, but he doubted any of them would make decent meals. Then his eyes fell upon a particular set of tracks. They were big, larger than his hands. They looked like-

April came back before he could draw any conclusions. She reached into her backpack and took something out. She unfolded and fiddled with the mystery item, revealing it to a collapsing bow. The string was missing though, probably removed to make it easier to fold up. She took one out of the pack too and tied it onto the bow. Then she grabbed one of the quivers and handed both items to the hero.

"Arrows and bullets might seem different at first glance, but they do operate under similar rules," April began. "For one they're bound to the whims of gravity. You're rarely gonna get a straight shot with a gun or bow. There's also the wind to account for, so you may need to veer to the side in case the arrow gets blown off course. Putting all of that math into action- especially on a moving target- can be a headache the first time around."

April took out her own bow and arrow next. "But that can wait another day. For now, just worry about landing shots on these targets."

She began firing her bow for the next few sentences. "The first thing to know when using any ranged weapon is composure. Panicking or shaking hands are just gonna make things more difficult for you. So relax, take some breaths, and your arrow should be able to find its mark."

Six nodded and drew up an arrow. He held his breath and fired on a trunk. It missed the white mark by a few inches.

"Try changing your posture,'' she suggested. "Might help with stability some."

"Show me," Six said.

April drew her bow and struck a pose. Six mimicked it to the best of his ability and fired it. This time it managed to land on one of the limbs of the X. Six tried again. The next arrow landed on an exposed corner.

"Eh, close enough for now," she said.

She drew another arrow. "The second thing to think about is speed. Not just the speed of your target, but your own drawing speed too. If you're facing fast prey or a bigger predator, rabid fire is sometimes the best option."

She fires in quick succession. "I'll give you five seconds to hit each mark on the first three trees. When I say 'go', let 'em fly."

Six nodded and drew up an arrow. When she gave the signal, he fired. The first one hit the nearest trunk, landing dead in the center of its mark. Perfect. The next one flew to the one on its left. Landed just an inch off from the center. The last one went onto the one on his right. It hit a limb instead of the mark's center.

"Time's up," April said. "Looks like you've got a quick draw at the very least."

She pulled out one more arrow. "So far we've gone over composure and speed. The last thing I personally worry about is precision. Sometimes you can't get close to your prey without tipping them off, so you'd have to settle for a long shot. This can often be the only shot you'll get before they run off, so make it count. I find holding your breath helpful in such cases."

She fired the projectile all the way to the tree trunk at the far back. "Try to hit the tree marks all the way in the back. Take your time if you need to."

Six nodded and drew out his bow. His first instinct was to activate VATS. To no surprise, it only honed in on 'living' targets like April and ED-E. He was gonna have to rely on his eyes for this. Six decided to try a straight shot first. It arced and nearly hit the ground. He raised his bow up and fired again. Close but not quite. A little higher up and it hit the mark at the center. He repeated the process with the other two tree trunks until he hit their targets.

April clapped her hands. "You're getting the hang of this," she noted. She walked back to her backpacks and drew out another piece of chalk. This one was lime-green and she was marking a select number of trees with it. The marking itself was an upside-down triangle rather than an X.

"Now let's put all of your training to the test," She began. "When I say 'go', you shoot all eight trunks with the green triangle on them. You've got ten seconds. This might be tricky, so don't feel too bad if you have to try again."

Six let out a grunt of acknowledgment. He held his breath and opened fire. He started with the closest ones first to get them out of the way. Getting to the last ones in the back was tricky, though, having to account for the arrow's arc and speed. He only got five hits right the first time.

He tried again. This time he focused his attention on the targets in the back before she said 'go'. When she did, the first arrow flew all the way to the back. From there he moved from the farthest ahead to the closest to him. He was just about to get the last one when time ran out. Repeating the process in the next round brought him a record time of nine seconds.

April grinned. "Great. That concludes today's lesson. Now it's time for the real challenge."

She pointed to some trees nearby. They had ladders and platforms on them. "Lotta settlements set these up for hunters," She explained. "If you're having trouble getting the pounce on some game, use those. Just uh, don't try to leap off of those. I've seen my share of hunters hurting themselves. And not always from the impact.

"Of course, you can also hide behind stuff like trees or shrubs to get the jump on them. Walk softly and slowly, keep your head down, that sorta stuff. If you have to crawl on your belly, then do it."

Six nodded. "Thanks for the session," He said.

"Don't mention it," She said with a smile. "Oh! We should trade numbers before we split up."

Six tilted his head. "Numbers?"

"For phones or radios or whatnot." She said, "You have at least one of the two right?"

"My Pip-Boy fills the role of the latter. Give me your frequency and I should be able to tune in. Also have a mic and radio in my helmet too, so I can have a private conversation with anyone if I want to."

Six brought up his Pip-Boy and manually added April's frequency under the Radio tab. Once she got his, the two split up and began hunting. ED-E stayed close by to amplify his HUD. He was already picking up movement on his motion tracker, and he had his bow out. Sometimes he saw squirrels, other times foxes. He could sell furs from the creatures here for some LMD. He'll have to see April about bartering the price for them, though. Da Vinci didn't seem like a thriving market.

"Unless I say otherwise, do not open fire on any of the wildlife," Six ordered.

ED-E beeped out an inquiry at the Courier.

"Because there's a chance your beams might disintegrate the goods," he said. "Even if you didn't, nobody wants to wash the ashes off of their meat or coats."

ED-E relented with an acknowledged beep. The two came across a river and a dam. Six's first instinct was to run to the body of water and fill up his canteen. But as he got closer, he noticed something odd. A faint warm glow, like a bonfire gleaming through the water. Something was moving onto the surface, and fast. Six took a step back and raised his bow.

A beaver crawled out of the stream and onto the dam. The first thing that stood out was the black spikes on its back and tail. He squinted his eyes and noticed red veins on some of the spikes. Then he looked back at the river and noticed something dark mixed in with the water.

"I've never seen beavers before, but I'm pretty sure they don't have spikes or messed up tails," Six noted.

ED-E agreed with him. Croissant told him that Oripathy wasn't exclusive to humans. Animals can catch the stuff too. Looks like her comments about mutations were true after all. And he nearly drank from a contaminated river.

Six took some steps back and fired an arrow at the creature's torso. The beaver was crippled and tried to limp away but another arrow finished it off. The Forte also said that Infected organisms have a chance to explode once they expire. Part of him was kinda disappointed when the creature didn't. It did appear to be calcifying though. Maybe it goes kaboom after a few minutes? An hour? He wasn't waiting for that to happen though. He had food to find.

Another few minutes and he stumbled across a bush covered in berries. Six took out April's book and skimmed through it. According to this, these were "blueberries". Those went extinct in the Great War, didn't they? He took out a pouch and placed some in it. He could study these later.

His first real prey popped up not too long after. They appeared to be healthy stags, retaining all of their fur. Six hadn't seen many back home, but the ones he came across typically had two heads. Guess this is what they looked like before the bombs dropped. He crouched and drew an arrow, aiming for one's legs. The projectile flew and managed to impale itself through one of them.

But it didn't cripple the creature. The other deer immediately became alert and darted off in different directions. Six chased after the wounded one and called upon VATs again, this time honing in on it. His chances of crippling the legs weren't looking good. He could aim at the center of mass, the torso. At the very least it'd cause some fatigue for the critter.

Six fired two more shots. Both stuck onto the beast and were drawing out blood. He could already see the crimson fluid dripping onto the ground. Nice. He can follow the trail if he loses sight. As soon as VATS ended he launched another arrow. The deer dodged that one and the next.

Dammit. Six thought to himself. It's probably figured me out by now.

He waited for VATS to recharge before fitting again. This time an arrow hit the spine, paralyzing its back half. Six ran up to the creature and jammed his knife into its skull before it could crawl away. He smiled and began cutting the fresh kill apart. The skin he wagered would make some good leather. The meat, well, no explanation needed. He placed the items into ED-E's storage compartment and noticed a platform nearby.

Six climbed a ladder and onto the platform. He took a quick peek with his sniper rifle, trying to find the rest of the herd. One more was hiding behind some trees while another lingered near the dam. Six targeted the first one with VATS, landing a blow on its leg. That slowed it down enough for him to leap off and stab it to death. Then he skinned it and harvested its bounty. That left one more.

The Courier made it back to the river, but in his haste alerted the prey. It ran off into the distance but he got a body shot on it. He followed the trail of blood to a bunch of bushes. He heard something roar as he got closer, though. It didn't sound like a deer at all.

He crouched and approached the brushes. He heard a creature wail and a squishy stabbing sound shortly after. He peeped through the leaves to see the stag being torn apart by canines. Coyotes? No, wolves. They still had fur like their pre-war ancestors. They were gorging on their victim, oblivious to the human's presence. He put a hand on his chin.

Wonder how much the townsfolk pay for their pelts? He thought to himself.

He looked at the nearest tree and saw another ladder. He climbed up to get a vantage point and came across a zip line, connected to another platform nearby. He drew his bow and pulled back an arrow. This time he went straight for the nearest one's head. It ripped right through its skull.

The rest of the pack spun around, sniffing the air. Six leapt onto the zipline and rode to another vantage point. As they closed in on the first tree, Six shot another arrow at the back of a mongrel's skull. The remaining two spun around and saw him. They ran but he fired up VATS and fired a couple of projectiles at one of them. Its left legs were crippled and it limped behind the healthier specimen.

The other wolf got to Six's point first and clawed at the truck, barking like mad. Six leaped down on top of the creature, crashing onto its back. He felt the spine snap under the combined weight of his gear and armor. He slit the wolf's neck and fired an arrow at the wounded survivor. Both dropped dead. He smirked and went to work on skinning their corpses. Four pelts and some fresh meat had been loaded into ED-E's inventory.

He inspected the deer for anything to salvage. The only thing worth taking were its antlers, but he doubted ED-E could fit that into his compartment. So he left the bloodied remains and went hunting for some other grub. After a few minutes of wandering, he found a rabbit lurking around. He pressed his belly onto the ground and took cover behind some brush. Like much of the wildlife here, it retained its fur.

Six licked his lips as he drew his bow. VATS highlighted the creature in orange light and he selected the torso. There was enough AP for multiple shots with the system. He fired at least three arrows at the little critter. The first two missed, alerting the creature. It bolted off before the third arrow got anywhere near it. Six cursed under his breath and chased after it. He followed it to a tree trunk and watched it run into a burrow. Six dropped to his belly and slid across the earth, hand reaching out.

It grasped nothing but air. He swore at the top of his lungs as he got back up. That mound must be pretty big if he couldn't reach the little bastard. Something assaulted his nostrils. Something close. He looked around a bit before his eyes fell back on the trunk. There were claw marks on it, about twice the size of his hand. There were also paw prints nearby and a slight change in tint in some spots. He'd seen those prints before. They looked like-

A roar caught his attention. He spun around to see a Yao Guai standing on its hind legs. No, not a Yao Gaui, its pre-war ancestor. A "bear" as some Ghouls called it. He hadn't seen such a mammal since Zion. And if memory serves, they were the second-worst monster to run into.

Six held up his hands defensively and backed away. The beast either didn't understand the gesture or didn't give a damn, because it charged at him claws first. Six rolled in time to avoid being skewered, but the trunk wasn't so lucky. If anything, the paw seemed to have gotten stuck on it. ED-E disregarded its orders and peppered the bear with laser bolts. All that did was annoy it.

"Forget about it," he commanded ED-E. "We need to go. Now!"

The duo sped off deeper into the woods. The sound of wood exploding and a roar caused him to crank his head around for a split second. Sure enough, the Yao Gaui was chasing them and it was closing in. ED-E wouldn't run out of steam but Six would. And even if he didn't, he wasn't too certain that he could outrun it.

Six skidded to a stop behind a tree and drew out his Plasma Defender. Lasers didn't seem to have much effect on them but blazing hot goo might be more effective. He peered out from his cover and fired a couple of shots at the ursine. Sure enough, it was burning away fur and scarring skin tissue. This briefly caused the animal to stop and back away, trying to lick its wounds.

But that was only temporary. It dashed at Six and managed to pin him to the earth. ED-E fired more blasts at it, but it ignored the eyebot. It lashed out with its jaws, but he managed to catch its maw in time. It was a struggle to keep its teeth from sinking into his neck, though, and kicking its abdomen proved ineffective. He couldn't draw any weapons either, not with the risks before him.

Suddenly arrows appeared on its side. The ursine roared in pain and spun around, sniffing for the offending party. A grey cloud of mist was seeping throughout the area, with more arrows emerging from the fog. These ones were coated in a black streak, almost like Art bolts. Six could make out a shape moving in the mists, but it was hard to keep track of them. He used this distraction to grab an arrow and stab it into the bear's eye.

Disoriented, it reared back and stumbled around. Six pulled himself up and put some space between it and him. He drew his Defender and brought up VATS, targeting its exposed underbelly. Three shots into its chest and the bolts burned their way into its ribcage. It still has some fight left in it, but an arrow to its other eye rendered it blind. The Courier finished it off with some arrows to its cranium, piercing its brain. The beast dropped dead.

The fog dissipated around him, finally revealing his savior. It was April, leaning against a tree with her bow in hand. He was going to say something to her, but he could only groan in pain. Felt like the beast managed to break a rib or two under its paws. He jammed a stimpak into his neck and felt his ribcage being fused back together. Now he could talk.

"Thanks for the save," he said. "Thought I was a goner back there."

April put up a cute smile. "No problem. You managed to get some food?"

"And some pelts. You too?"

She nodded. "Think I'll call it a day. Ready to head back to town?"

Six didn't bother with a vocal answer, choosing instead to start his trek back. April caught up with him and walked beside him and the robot. After a minute or two of walking, Six spoke up.

"By the way, how'd you pull off that shroud back there? Was that some kinda Art?" he asked.

"It's something I picked up before my infection," she explained. "Pretty handy for heavy combat and hunting. And before you ask, no, I don't plan on sharing my trade secrets. Sorry."

Six was a bit disappointed to not learn anything, but he wasn't surprised. Then again he technically didn't need such tricks anyway. Not when he had his Stealth Boys. Some time passed before they reached the car. They were surprised when they found Exusiai chatting with someone. It was Mostima and Fiammetta, leaning against an RV.

The bluehead spotted the pack of hunters and waved at them, followed by Exusiai. Fiammetta just stared at Six as they approached them.

"Did we interrupt anything?" Six asked, tipping an imaginary hat at them.

Exusiai shook her head. "Nah," she said. "Just catching up with each other while you two were hunting. Anything exciting happen while I was on guard duty?"

"Apart from nearly getting mauled by a bear, no."

Exusiai blinked and walked over to him, inspecting his armor. She quickly noticed the claw marks on the chestplate and gave it a couple of taps.

"Sheesh," she said. "You're one tough cookie."

"He had help," April added. "Weren't for me, he'd be a pancake."

Six playfully winced in response to that. "Hey now, no need to rub salt on the wound," he chaffed.

April giggled. Fiammetta got off the RV and walked over to Six too.

"You had quite the collection yesterday," she recalled. "Where did you find all those guns?"

Exusiai perked up at the mention of Six's arsenal. "Yeah, I've been wondering that myself," she added.

Six frowned under his helmet. It was only a matter of time until someone tried to interrogate him. "Some of it I found in the wasteland," he said. "Others I bought from traveling merchants. At least one's from a friend."

"Who taught you to use them all?" Fiammetta continued.

Six couldn't help but notice something flicker behind her eyes. Something he hadn't seen in a long time. Was that... envy? Six had to admit, he himself pondered on that question on occasion. Did somebody train him prior to that fateful day, or was he self-taught? He opted to shrug.

"Can't remember," he confessed. "Amnesia."

"Seriously?" Fiammetta replied as she narrowed her eyes.

"Seriously. Brain damage, to be precise."

Exusiai flinched. "Oof," she said. "I think one of our business partners can relate."

Fiammetta didn't seem entirely convinced by his story. She was about to open her mouth when Mostima put a hand on her shoulder. "As much as I'd like to stick around, Ms. Chainsaw Gal and I need to get going."

Six stifled a laugh. "Chainsaw Gal?" he asked. "That supposed to be an alias or something?"

"Oh for the love of- don't you start with me!" Fiammetta snapped. "I'm not the one that chooses those stupid codenames. And you're one to talk, going by 'Six' and all!"

"It at least rolls off the tongue nicely," Six replied. "[Lady Killer] Don't get why your employers couldn't go with something poetic. Like 'Bombshell' or 'Ghost Pepper'."

"Bombsh-" Fiammetta's jaws locked up as she processed the word.

April and Exusiai giggled as the Liberi's face turned pink. A faint smile curled on Mostima's face when Fiammetta started sputtering.

"You- They- What are you- Argh!"

Fiammetta threw her arms up before grabbing Mostima by the collar, then dragged her into the RV. The bluehead didn't seem to mind that much. The machine sputtered to life and kicked some dust into the gang's face as it drove off into the distance. After the two girls finished coughing and dusting themselves off, Exusiai turned to Six with a grin on her face.

"That's the first time I've ever seen her blush," she said. "I didn't take you for a ladies' man."

"What can I say?" Six said with a smirk. "I have a soft spot for kickass women. Ready to get back to base? 'Cus I could use a little R & R and I'd rather not let the goods go to waste."

April stretched her arms. "Sounds good to me. Got some pelts I wanna sell too."

Everybody took their seats as Exusiai plopped herself at the steering wheel. The humvee's engine roared to life and sped off back to Da Vinci. The trip back was rather uneventful. Exusiai and April were trading banter, but he paid them no mind. His eyes were glued back onto the fields again. He was lucky that Fiammetta was more interested in regular guns instead of his energy weapons. Even more so that she left like that. He dodged a bullet so far, but how long will his luck last. He needed to find a way to Lungmen and back home. Fast.

Once the car returned to the village's garage, everyone piled out and walked back to its surface. Exusiai split off from the main group to do a bit of shopping at one of the markets. Everyone else went back to base to put the food into storage. Some of it went into the restaurant's stock- to the rhino-man's delight- while the rest was to be sold at the market later.

Six made his way back into the room and sat on the bed, while ED-E went into a corner to recharge. He took out his Pip-Boy to check the time; 4 PM. The Courier took out the book Croissant gave him last night and paused. Not everyone in the area knew English, he realized. Sooner or later he would run into a language barrier down the line. If he wanted to survive in this new world, he'd need to brush up on his secondary languages.

Six opened the book and began reading. He already had a decent understanding of Spanish and some Native American languages. He had to deal with traders of both camps in the past, so it was nice to refresh himself with a little review. The other languages on the other hand were a nightmare. French, German, Russian, Italian, Japanese, Chinese. Six fell asleep after an hour of trying to cram that knowledge into his skull.

---

When he opened his eyes he found himself in a classroom. Well, not one of those pre-war ones. It was just a metal room dressed up as a patchwork imitation. Six lifted his head off of a desk and stood on his feet. The first thing he noticed was its height. It was up to his chest instead of his knees. It took him a minute to realize that he had changed in size.

He was a kid now, in his preteens from the looks of things. Six freaked out and frantically looked around the room. There were maps and books everywhere, but no signs of human life. Six walked out of the room to find an empty hallway. This seemed like an underground bunker. He wandered around until he found a ladder. Hopefully an exit. He climbed up it and pushed open a hatch. He felt a strong wind coming from outside and saw some dust clouds swirling about. Could faintly pick up the stench of ash too. Something about the weather disturbed him.

Reluctantly he emerged from the bunker. He was now standing in the ruins of an old city. The buildings soared into the sky, trying to touch the clouds above. Barely any light shined down on the area, leaving everything in dirty orange light. It filled him with wonder and dread.

The storms began to take shape. One of them formed a demonic head with fireballs as eyes. Two more were molded into electrified claws. The thing snarled as it sniffed the air, the claws raking the earth below. Its gaze fell upon the child and it let out a spine-chilling howl. It flew towards the Courier, hellbent on tearing him apart.

A rotting hand emerged from the hole in the ground and grabbed the boy's leg. He cried out and kicked at it, but it pulled him under. He watched the hatch close as he fell into the darkness. He could hear the beast banging on the metallic door, trying to claw its way in...

---

Six awoke to hear someone knocking on the door. He got up and creaked the door open to see April on the other side. She was holding a sub sandwich, or at least half of one.

"You missed dinner," She said. "Everything okay?"

Six blinked a few times before responding. "I just dozed off, that's all," he said. "Long day."

She tossed the sandwich to Six. He removed his helmet and promptly stuffed the whole thing into his mouth. April's eyes popped out and she stepped back a bit, stunned. She managed to catch a brief glimpse of Six's face before he covered it back up. He seemed young, maybe around her age group.

The Courier walked past her and into the lobby, partially concealing his face with his helm. He took out a cold drink from a cooler and popped the cap off. With one hand he slipped the lid into a pocket and another held the beverage. He kept his helmet up to just above his lips, sipping big gulps of the liquid. He tossed the empty bottle into a trash bin and finally put the headpiece all the way back on. He was returning to his room when she stopped him.

"If you're bored, why not go outside for a bit? The sky is supposed to be clear tonight."

"Clear as in no clouds or-?" He stopped himself.

This world had a sun and moon, right? That meant they were in a solar system. Solar systems had celestial bodies, planets, stars. He meant to go stargazing last night, but he forgot about it after the brawl. Now was his chance to confirm (or confront) his theories.

"You mean stargazing?"

She nodded. "It's a bit of a hobby of mine," she confessed. "Find the best rooftop and just stare at the sky. You in?"

"Diffidently. Give me a minute to change."

Six shut the door and switched to his silver-grey garbs. He gave the trenchcoat a quick sniff as he put it on. It had a strange fragrance but he couldn't identify it. Some extinct species of flora maybe? Once he was dressed he made his way upstairs to the pub and found the girl just out the door. She had her bow and arrows on her back. She was cautious. Good.

She smiled and waved at him, beckoning him to follow. Six compiled and traveled down the streets with her. So far no one has dared to jump them. But something felt off. He could've sworn he heard a buzzing noise but he couldn't find the source. At the very least it wasn't a Cazador.

At last, they found themselves in a plaza. Stalls surrounded them while a fountain lay at the center. There was a large stone building, about the size of a movie theater. This must be the marketplace. She led him to a ladder on the larger structure and up onto the roof. They were several feet up now, probably high enough for him to break a leg. He tried to avoid looking down as much as possible.

The view was something, though. There was a sort of peace or ambiance right now. A sense of wonder and curiosity. It wasn't exactly a foreign feeling, being an adventurer and all, but it was a comforting one. The night sky certainly was beautiful too. But as he examined it further, he frowned.

The first thing he noticed was the two moons. Not one, two. Something was off with the stars as well. They seemed to be diminishing, fading. Was he even looking at "live" ones, or the remnants of a dead star that went nova? Were they even stars at all or some distant planet? The worst part about it was their constellations. Or rather, the lack of them.

He saw none of the constellations of his homeworld. Not Perseus. Not Taurus. Not Orion. Not even the fucking Emu. If his fears weren't confirmed before, they sure as hell were now. He sighed. He wasn't in America anymore, let alone Earth. He just didn't want to admit it. It was past time he accepted the new reality.

He turned away from the sky. April noticed this and cast a concerned look on his face. "What's wrong?" She asked.

"Just confirmed a theory of mine," Six said. "I have no fucking idea how to get back home. Or if I even have one anymore."

April put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It's okay," She said. "You can always find a new one."

"Can I?"

He turned away again. While it's true that he was something of a rover, he tied himself to Vegas for the past few years. His instincts always told him to leave it behind but his feet remained grounded in the Mojave. He didn't plan on leaving it yet. Not until he was certain that it wouldn't collapse without him.

His mind went back to the people. Boone, Lily, Rex, Ganon, Cass, Veronica, Raul. Graham, Follows-Chalks, Dog, Christine, Domino, 8, Mobius, Ulysses. Joana, Sarah, Michael, Swank, Victor. Bright, Haversam, Jack, Janet, Farkas, Regis, Papa Kahn, Jerry, Melissa, The King. Sunny Smiles, Easy Pete, Trudy, Doc M-

Six stopped that train of thought. As aggravating as running New Vegas could be, he always had a shoulder to lean on, something to talk to. Now all he had was ED-E. Six wanted to close his eyes, telling himself that he was dreaming. But he wasn't going to keep fooling himself. That shit would get him nowhere.

He got up. "I think I've had enough of the great outdoors," he told April. "I'm heading back."

She frowned slightly but gave him an acknowledging nod. "Alright," she said. "See you in the morning. Safe travels."

"Same to you."

Six climbed back down to ground level and started making his way back. He'd bring up the Pip-Boy every now and then to look at the local map. Thankfully it was still capable of writing them up as he walked. That buzzing sound came back, though, and this time it seemed closer…

Six brought up VATS and his head cranked upwards. Up above was a small drone of some form, carried by four small propellers. Six didn't know who it belonged to, but he was certain that it had been following him. Without a second thought, he drew his Plasma Defender and shot the machine out of the sky. It melted into green goop mid-fall and splattered across the road. Thankfully none of the plasma splashed him.

[Luck 3/5] He knelt down beside the goo as it cooled and shifted through it. Nothing that could identify its owner- let alone any salvage worth selling- survived.

Shit. he thought to himself.

Emptyhanded Six left the scene and finally made it to base. ED-E chirped a greeting at him as he undressed and crawled into bed, but he didn't respond. His mind was still lingering in the Mojave, and it went back to the wastelands once he fell asleep.

Outside the subhouse was the same Lupo. In his hands was a controller, now rendered useless. He was still trying to process what had happened just now. That man pulled out a gun and melted the Monster drone. Melted it! He dialed a number on his smartphone and brought it to his ear.

His boss picked up the phone. "Now what?" He hissed.

"Mysterious Stranger is a Caster. Repeat, Mysterious Stranger is a Caster."

"Caster? You sure about this?"

"He just fucking melted my Monster with some glowing gun," The goon hissed back.

"...melted? Shit," The man on the phone was silent for a good minute. "We'll need to draw him out, away from the Pond."

"How? He's practically glued to the Penguins at this point."

A dark chuckle emerged from the device. "I got an idea or two," the voice said. "Now listen up, rookie…"

Notes:

What's this? The Courier has some actual backstory? Well, kinda. I'm still juggling around what constants and variables I want for his backstory. Of course with his brain damage, there is an unreliable narrator angle to take into consideration.

Mostima and Fiammetta leave the party for the time being. My apologies to fans of them, but they must deliver a package like any good courier. Don't worry. We'll be seeing them again soon enough.

April's training course is basically ripped from Angi's unmarked quest in Skyrim. Fell back onto that and a couple of YouTube videos on archery for reference when writing it.

Chapter 5: Originium Fever

Summary:

The bait is set. Now we wait…

Date: Indeterminate

Location:...The moon?

Today was not a good day. The Courier had set out on a scavenger hunt for supplies for his rocketship and already he ran into trouble. Or rather caused it. How was he supposed to know that taking that chunk of uranium would've triggered a nuclear meltdown? And now the Ghoulified survivors of the resulting explosion were chasing him across the moon.

"Degeneres sicut tu pertinent in crucem!"

"Interficere pollutor!"

"Nostram pellem tulit! Nunc corium capimus!"

Six looked back at the Legonarries with a terrified look on his face.

[Intelligence 4/8] "I have no idea what in Sam Hill you asshats are saying!"

The cowboy ran-or space-hopped- all the way back to his ship. Eddy the Moon Monkey was waving his tubby arms at him, trying to call out to him. A Plasma bolt sent the Courier flying through the entrance and the door slammed shut behind him. The artificial gravity kicked in and Six hit the floor hard.

With a groan, Six rose back onto his feet and looked around. Neither Eddy nor the chunk of radioactive rock he was carrying was anywhere to be seen. The ship was in complete darkness and he could barely see a thing. He called out for his sidekick but nobody responded. All he heard were the Legionaries banging at his door.

Six wandered in the dark empty-handed. He grumbled about leaving his latest treasure with a cult of machine-worshiping, time-traveling Romans and was about to sit on his captain's chair when an announcement on the intercoms came online.

"Attention citizens! Novac is under Legion assault! Repeat, the Legion is attacking Novac. Please evacuate to the nearest shelter!"

The Courier raised an eyebrow. Novac? Why did that name sound so fami-

The world shifted to the Mojave wasteland. Just outside the town of Novac. Memories came rushing back to him. The people were under siege from feral Ghouls and they asked the Courier to end their plight. The problem was more complicated than he thought, though.

The ferals escaped to town because Demons freed them from their cages. The Ghouls that retained their sanity didn't even want to remain on Earth. They were looking for a new place to call home. The Demons halted their progress, but the Courier was able to reach an understanding with them. They were in search of something and Six merely pointed them in the right direction.

Then he helped the Ghouls rebuild and launch some pre-war rockets. Legion must've noticed his absence and decided to act on it. Well, they're welcome to try. This town was under the protection of the Courier and Eddy. Or at least it was until pods came crashing back down. And rushing out of them were Lord Bright and his followers.

The cult leader was leading the charge with his Plasma Defender. His brothers and sisters wielded laser weapons and fired on the Legionaries, disintegrating their foes. Six joined in on the fray and fired his own Defender at the horde. He ran to Bright's cover and slid beside him. He nearly scared the living hell out of the ancient Ghoul.

"By the Creator!" he swore. "I thought you were one of them."

"Sorry about that," Six apologized. "But I couldn't let your lot have all the fun. I thought you'd be on the moon by now?"

"So did we," Bright admitted. "But the Creator must have other plans."

[Intelligence 6] "Or those rockets were surface-to-surface after all," Six retorted. "You could've gotten yourselves killed!"

"Perhaps, but we are here now. And these people need our aid. It is the least we can do."

One of the Legionaries pulled up a Fat Man and fired a mini-nuke into the air. It split apart into smaller bombs and rained down on the town. Six and Bright took cover just in time to avoid being blown to pieces. But it wasn't a standard nuke. It was just a dirty bomb. What did the Legion hope to accomplish with rads? Their opponents were Gh-

Black spikes began erupting from the flock, creating a twisted chorus of howls and screams. Six and Bright looked at the scene in horror. Some of the followers turned into obsidian statues, others morphed and mutated into malformed blistered shapes. Six and the Legionaries were spared from the bioweaponry due to their spacesuits. Bright, on the other hand, was swiftly succumbing to the plague.

Six caught the prophet as his flesh turned to emerald. Six ejected a stimpack into the ancient's remaining tissue, but it had no effect. Before long, the man turned into another statute in his arms and crumbled to dust. Six could barely process what just happened.

A screech brought him back to reality. He spun around to see himself surrounded by the ebony swarm. The Ghouls were twitching and spasming, obviously in pain yet seemingly incapable of doing anything about it. Someone was clapping their hands behind the Legionaries. The soldiers moved aside for their commander to enter the scene. And he was the horrid thing the space cowboy had ever seen.

The best way to describe him was a sort of cyber-lich. Pearl-white crystals were jutting from his rotting flesh, with several fragments floating behind him. They formed a shape that vaguely resembled wings to the Courier. He had a strange staff-like device in one hand and a dead swan in the other. The latter appeared to be calcifying and in just as much pain as the flock.

Horror gave way to rage and Six rose onto his feet. "What the fuck have you done to them!?" he bellowed.

A cruel smile slithered onto the lich's fanged face. "I have merely freed this flock from the agony of life," he claimed.

The crystalized zombies converged at the Courier, lashing out with teeth and claws. All he could do was power up his plasma cutter and brace himself.

---

Date: September 29th, 1099

Location: Da Vinci, Siracusa

Six awoke with a jump and looked around. ED-E issued him a greeting in binary. The Courier let out a sigh of relief as he got out of bed.

"Good morning to you too," the Courier said. "Man, that was the weirdest dream I've had in years. You had a good recharge, I take it?"

The robot chirped in agreement.

"Glad to hear it," Six yawned and stretched his arms out some. "Ready for another adventure?"

ED-E bleeped back at him again as the young put on the Manto d'argento. "To earn some caps. Erm, LMD. We've been living off of others' paychecks for the past two days. Time we start writing our own. Maybe we can find a posting or an office for bounties at the market."

The duo left the room and ventured to the subhouse upstairs. Six looked at the counter serving breakfast and got in line. Once it was his turn he grabbed some sausage patties, pancakes, coffee, and what appeared to be an orange. After collecting his meal he passed by Exusiai, who waved at him. Six ignored her and took a seat some distance away from the girl. That didn't dissuade the angel, though. She just left her seat and propped herself at the Courier's table, sitting opposite of him. ED-E emitted some annoyed beeps at her.

"Don't worry, I'll keep my hands to myself," she said to the bot before returning her attention to Six. "So whatcha up to?"

Six shrugged, still refusing to look at her. "Just looking to get some LMDs today. Gonna look for odd jobs or bounties. Preferably bounties."

She let out a short 'naruhodo' and nodded just as briefly. Six didn't understand the word, but he had an educated guess.

"If you're looking for work, you could sign up with us. From what Croissant tells me, you're one heck of a fighter. Even if you don't meet the boss's standards in that field, there's paperwork that needs filling and packages that need delivering. Think about it; action, adventure, apple pie!"

Six stopped eating for a moment. It was rather tempting, he had to admit. People to meet or kill, new places to explore, secrets to unearth. It was the rover's lifestyle. His lifestyle. And as a bonus, they were an intelligence agency too. All of the world's knowledge-science, technology, medicine, politics, history- would be right at his fingertips.

But he shook his head. No. No, he had to find a way back to Earth. To the Mojave, his budding nation. His friends…

He shook his head again. Why the hell was he worried? His mission back then was just to secure its independence. He wasn't in it for House's throne. He was just tired of stupid-ass despots like him and Caesar. The NRC wasn't in any condition to maintain control over the region, so he did the honorable thing and sent their soldiers back home. They can inherit the land when they get the strength and resources of Old America for all he cares.

But he did care about the place. About the people. To leave them hanging like that would be dickish and cowardly. And in many respects, it was the closest thing he had to home in a long time. Even if he had no desire to lead the Mojave, he at least wanted to protect it.

"I'm afraid that I'll have to decline your offer," Six said. "I don't know you or your company. For all I know, you'd just shank or see me out at the earliest opportunity. And even if I could trust you-"

He stopped. "I have friends and a home to look after. Hell, maybe even a nation. If I don't make it back home it might not survive without me."

"You can use your funds to help the people there. The boss pays-"

"They don't take LMDs. Their economy's built around bottle caps. Bottle. CAPS! And you can't just find it on a map either. It's-"

He took a breath and calmed down. He started shoving as much good into his mouth as possible. He didn't bother to finish speaking until after he licked his plate clean.

"It's complicated. You wouldn't understand. Hell, I'm still struggling to make sense of it all myself. And if I tried to tell you, you'd probably put me in a straitjacket."

He rose from his seat and loaded the kitchen's dishwasher. As he walked back by Exusiai, he gave her a look. She picked up a thousand emotions in that face, but she couldn't untangle and make sense of them. The Courier and ED-E left without another word.

Six made his way back to the marketplace. Last night the district was devoid of life. Today it was bursting at the seams with it. At least a dozen stalls were scattered across the area, each one competing for the interest of the people. It was a pain to navigate through the crowds but he finally found a notice board. There were posters and notes pinned on it, ranging from advertisements to job applications. He looked through each one and found one that stuck out.

To all able-bodied individuals

There is a group of Infected raiders hiding in an abandoned Originium mine east of our current position. They have been harassing, robbing, and assaulting good citizens and visitors of our fine town. Mayor Sanna is offering a bounty for the death of their leader. He can be identified by the ebony diamond ring on his hand. Bring it back as proof of his death and the returning hero(es) shall be rewarded.

Six scanned and downloaded the poster into his Pip-Boy. As soon as it finished writing the file, though, he felt something tap his shoulder. Six turned his head to see someone right next to him. He nearly jumped out of his skin and stumbled backward, resisting the urge to draw his guns. It was just that blonde bunny lad. What was his name again? Leonhart?

"Jesus H. Christ, you scared the living hell outta me," Six hissed.

The lad just noticed him. "I did?"

"Yeah, you were shoulder-to-shoulder against me. I almost pulled my gun out on you."

The boy sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. "Sorry about that. Say, you're Six right?"

"That's me. You're Leonhart, right?"

"Leonhardt. With a D before the T. Are you a Messenger?"

"Was until I got shot in the head."

"Ouch."

"That's putting it mildly. You?"

"Kinda. I'm a Catastrophe Messenger."

"What's the difference?"

"I scope the area for any potential Catastrophes or the aftermath of them."

"That's the natural disaster that produces magic rocks, right?"

Leonhardt snickered. "That's one way to put it. Mayor wants someone to check out this old mine-"

"Out east?"

The boy gave him a surprised look. "How'd you-?"

"There's a bounty for a bandit in that same location."

Leonhardt blinked and looked at the notes on the noticeboard. Sure enough, they both pointed to the same location. "Well ain't that a coincidence. Guess we'll be partners for today then."

"You know how to fight?"

"Rather avoid fights than barge into them. If the need arises, I can dish out AoE attacks with my Arts."

"AoE?"

"Area of Effect."

Sounds like a goddamn nuke. Six thought to himself. "Just give me a heads-up before you open the gates of hell. Meet you at the garage? I gotta get my gear if we're going into combat."

Leonhardt gave him a nod and an approving smile. "Look out for my bike when you get there,'' he said. "Might wanna get a filter from the Penguin club while you're at it. Don't want to inhale any originium flakes in those tunnels."

Six returned the gesture and ventured back to the sub house's bunker. He quickly switched from the Manto d'argento to his Elite Riot Gear. Then he made his way towards Hoover's repair shop and knocked on the door. The old Liberi opened it to see the younger man.

"Nice to see you've got some manners," he jested. "What can I do for you?"

"Gonna go on a bit of a bounty hunting trip," Six said. "Wanna make sure my helmet's filters can keep out originium before I go. Also wanted to grab some weapons too. Could be a hairy fight up ahead."

Hoover nodded as the younger man plopped his helmet on the table and began dismantling it. While the elder examined the gasmask, Six looked over his weapons. He inspected each one carefully for any damage or tampering. His guns were a little light on ammo, but he found no real changes to the items themselves. Guess he forgot to reload in all the chaos at the mines, or even before for some select ones. The Courier ultimately chose his shotgun, Thump-Thump, and sniper rifle, leaving the rest with Hoover. He kept Wolf's bane for himself, though. Just in case the rifle ran dry.

"Always pegged this as military gear," Hoover noted. "But I don't see any Originium filters in here. Hmm, looks like the insides could use some maintenance. Where'd you find it?"

"Out in the wastes like everything else," Six replied. "Best armor for a gunslinger if you ask me."

"But not the best for hazops."

Six crossed his arms, practically screaming 'so what?' He had Rad-X and Radaway to make up for it. But then again there didn't appear to be any sign of Rads here so far. He kept his mouth shut throughout Hoover's tinkering, watching how his hands hovered over the gear. A thumbs up signaled his completion and Six went to work on reassembling the headgear.

"That should do it," Hoover said. "Want me to look at that armor of yours too?"

"No need, but thanks for the offer. Wish me luck."

Six was about to leave the room when ED-E stopped him. He beeped out a reminder to the hero, causing him to facepalm.

"Shit, you're right," Six noted. "There's no way you'll be able to keep up with his ride. And I don't think that bike can carry you either. Why don't you wait for me in our room? Maybe Hoover can install a booster onto your frame when I get back."

Hoover smiled. "I welcome the challenge," he boasted.

The Courier and eyebot split off and went their separate ways. ED-E telekinetically opened and shut the door with his antigrav module and locked it behind him. The unit went into standby mode, conserving its power and giving some of its systems some much-needed cooldown.

---

Six had made it to the garage. Leonhardt was waiting for him on his bike, the engine already purring. As the Courier got closer to the cycle, he noticed that most of the loot was missing. There wasn't a single piece of treasure strapped to the back of the machine.

"Sold off everything eh?" Six said.

Leonhardt nodded. "Didn't need most of it. Got some drinks left in that cooler on the other side, though. You're welcome to any of them."

"I'll pass."

Six hopped onto the backseat and placed his hands on the lad's shoulders. Leonhardt floored it and drove out of the garage doors. The tunnels of the mobile city soon gave way to open skies and fields. The duo drove over mounds and hills for the next couple of hours, passing by farms and smaller villages along the way. They've all seen better days from where the Courier was sitting.

At last, they stopped at the remains of another ghost town. Six gave the town a brief look while Leonhardt put on his mask. The buildings were composed of a variety of materials. Rotting wood, worn stone, and rusted metal salvage. Old mining machines were littered across the area, many of which had already been stripped for parts by scavengers long ago. As they wandered around the ruins, though, evidence of life began popping up.

[Perception 7] First thing Six noticed was that some of the buildings' interiors seemed cleaner than others. Not as much dust or cobwebs as others. Then there were the dishes and campfires. The ashes in the latter were fresh, still warm even. That was enough to put Six on edge and make him draw his Plasma Defender. Leonhardt, by contrast, was rather calm.

Six hid behind cover, rolling from one spot to another and peeking his head around corners. Leonhardt just waltzes behind without a care in the world. He got his act together when they heard something pawing at the ground up ahead. The duo crept behind a crumbling store and peered over, spotting a dog. It was the same breed as he had encountered in the mines back on Earth, with black fur and yellow eyes. And much like them, there was a camera mounted onto its back.

The duo waited for it to leave the area before sneaking further ahead. By now they could make out a small mound with a rickety door at the front. There was a lone guard leaning against it, clad in biker garbs and carrying a device in his hand. It looked like a handheld radio from where Six was hiding. He turned back to Leonhardt.

"How do you want to handle this?" Six whispered. "Loud or quiet?"

"Quiet," Leonhardt replied. "We don't wanna risk starting a chain reaction with any originium deposits inside."

Six drew out Christine's sniper rifle. "This thing's silenced so it shouldn't draw too much attention. But I am worried about the dogs, though. They've got better hearing than both of us combined. They'll come running if they hear his body hit the floor."

Leonhardt bent down and picked up a piece of rubble. "Think you can handle the mutts while I take care of their master here?" he asked with a smile.

Six nodded and kept watch for the hounds. The kid threw the rock some distance away, hitting a rusty boring machine. This caught the man's attention and he came running over. While his back was to them Leonhardt fired a concussive blast from his spear at him. He flew into the wreckage headfirst and was knocked out cold.

The dogs from earlier heard the commotion. Six targeted the cameras with VATS and took them out. Once they reached the unconscious body he popped some headshots on them. Both went down without so much as a whimper.

After checking for patrols, Leonhardt leaped through a window and grabbed some rope nearby. Didn't take long for him to tie up the bandit. He placed the unconscious body inside the ruined car and threw the radio into the trunk. Six gave him a thumbs-up as they crept to the door.

The Courier gave a quick peek past the barrier for any signs of reinforcements. To his relief the coast was clear, and he signaled Leonhardt to follow. Once inside they were confronted with a labyrinth. Six glanced down at his Pip-Boy, noticing the Local Map refreshing itself.

"That doohickey any good for navigation?" Leonhardt asked.

Six shook his head. "Not on the first visit," he admitted. "It builds up the maps as we move along."

Leonhardt sighed. "Your bounty could be anywhere," he said. "And I don't see any originium nearby either. They're probably on the next level with our luck."

Six looked at the hallways before him. Three of them, one on each side and one directly in front of them. Six pointed to the tunnel on his left, and Leonhardt ventured down the path with him. There were some holes in the cavern's ceiling, shedding some much-needed light into the tunnels. Good for navigation, not so much for stealth. Six was growing claustrophobic with each step he took.

At last, they found themselves in the remains of an old chapel. Six was rather surprised by this discovery, rubbing the lens on his helmet. Leonhardt of course wasn't, crossing his arms and inspecting the place. Most of the furniture was broken, and what little still stood didn't seem sturdy.

There were some bags on the intact benches. Six rummaged through each of them, finding nothing but stale food and rotting scrolls. He did find a couple of gold coins, though, and tossed one to Leonhardt. He still couldn't believe that this world had 'actual' money, or at least bills that are worth anything.

The two ventured peeked through a decaying door, careful not to knock it off of its rusty hinges. They could see two more dogs, with the same equipment as the last pack. Six drew out his sniper rifle and pointed at it. Then he motioned towards the cameras on each hound and back and to the bunnyman. The Cautus shook his head, pointing at his staff- spear?- and then the dogs. He pointed back to the rifle and dogs again. Six got the memo but he had his doubts. He pushed those aside and allowed Leonhardt to fire first.

A small whirlwind hurled itself toward the canines and collided with them, scattering them across the room. While they lay dazed, Six activated VATS and took out each of their cameras. The two allowed the guard-dogs to rise back up and sniff the air. It didn't take long for them to be detected and they snarled at the intruders. Two of them charged forth, barking at the top of their lungs.

Six kicked the first one under the chin, crippling its head and bringing Chance's Knife onto its skullcap. While he was giving it a twist, Leonhardt brought his tool's blade down on the second one, slicing its skull in half. He conjured up another gush of wind, propelling the fresh corpse toward the rest of its pack. One unlucky dog got stunned again and Six followed up with a headshot. The remaining hound charged at the Courier, but Leonhardt impaled it through the side before it got too close. A headshot put it out of its misery.

Now they could examine the area. There was a construction light in each corner, all connected to a small generator. There was a desk with an old terminal, also connected to a generator. He could see a weapons cabinet and a bed against one of the walls, the former mildewing and torn. There were some posters on the opposite wall, but Six couldn't read any of them. This must have been the supervisor's office.

The Courier walked over to the desk and noticed a chair behind it. It was crudely crafted from wood, but surprisingly fresh in comparison to everything else. Six plopped his butt onto it and activated the terminal. To his disappointment, he couldn't get into the interface to hack it. Hell, he didn't even know if he could. It wasn't anything like RobCo's. He peered over the screen to see a closet ahead. The Courier walked over to open it, but it was locked. He smiled under his helmet.

[Lockpick 25] Six took out a screwdriver and pack of bobby pins, setting the latter onto the floor beside him. His hands went to work on that lock, prying at it with his makeshift tools. It took a couple of tries (and pins), but eventually, he was able to open that sucker. He went on down to the weapons locker and tried his hands on that. It didn't go as smoothly. Five good pins were wasted before he gave up. He didn't have time for any more attempts. His prey could be escaping at any moment.

He went back to inspect the goods behind door number one. It was a supply closet, housing some rations and tools. Six examined the food and took the boxes that were in the best condition. Leonhardt clapped his hands at the hero's resolve, startling him. Six pressed his fingers against his mask and shushed him. Leonhardt realized his mistake and stopped clapping. The two went back to the entrance room and ventured down the right side this time.

This was a loading bay if the cranes and trucks were of any indication. There were barrels and crates everywhere, gathering dust. Leonhardt went to work on inspecting each one, probably to see if anything valuable was inside. He came up empty-handed and went to the garage door. He motioned for Six to come over and help open it. Despite their combined strength, it refused to budge. The two gave up and ventured into the center tunnel.

The path sloped downward and was littered with old tools. The duo had to tip-toe their way over everything to avoid tripping. Six wasn't so lucky and ended up tumbling down to the bottom. When the world stopped spinning he found himself surrounded by old veins. If he understood his mining correctly then this was a lode. Or at least the remnants of one.

Leonhardt hopped down to Six's and offered a helping hand. Six ignored it and got back onto his feet without issue. Leonhardt's eyes shifted slightly but Six couldn't fully gauge his emotions with that mask on. Seemed disappointed or maybe a tad bit hurt. Hard to tell. Six took the lead and walked down the lode with the bunny-lad.

They eventually found themselves at a t-junction. One seemed to lead into another load while the other rounded a corner. Six was about to go deeper into the mine when his nose caught a whiff of something. It smelled like… beans? He followed the smell to a large cavern and duked back into the corner.

Up ahead was a chamber filled with tables and benches, large enough to seat at least two dozen souls. The smell was coming from further back. Six took out his rifle and peered through it. Sure enough, a man was cooking with an electric hotplate. It was connected to a small generator and he was surrounded by crates of food. Most of it was in cans or packages, like Pre-war food back home.

Some more gangsters were lodging about. Some of them were eating, while others were standing guard. Six lowered it and contemplated a plan of action. They haven't detected them yet so they could just slip back onto the main road. On the other hand, some of them were carrying radios on their belts. If one of the other patrols spotted them, they could call upon these guys to block off the exit. He looked back at Leonhardt.

"What should we do about them?" Six whispered. "Ignore them and press on, or eliminate them before they have a chance to block off our escape route?"

Leonhardt peered over the Courier's shoulders and narrowed his eyes. "Did you happen to see any communication devices on them?" He asked.

"At least two on some big eaters. The guards probably have some too."

They slipped back behind cover and Six pulled out a grenade. "I got some of these babies," He said. "Could take out a few goons with a good throw, or at least trash their comms. Think the walls here are sound-proof?"

Leonhardt shook his head. "Naw, folk downstairs are bound to hear it. Not to mention the risk of causing a cave-in. Let's just leave for now. If they show up for the party, then at least we'll be prepared."

The two snuck out of the hall and into the next one. Like the pathway back there were some lodes, stripped of their minerals. Unlike it, there were some lanterns on the walls, all lit. Someone was definitely in here, and Six had to be careful. This wasn't the Mojave wasteland anymore. This was fucking Narnia.

At last, the two found themselves before a massive cavern. Mining carts and tracks were everywhere, along with elevated platforms and security boxes. Floodlights were scattered across the chamber, lighting nearly every corner. There were some switches connected to the lighting system, each at various points. Some terminals were also present, though they were rusted beyond repair. Several thugs were patrolling the area, carrying shoulder-mounted flashlights.

But what caught their attention were the originium crystals on the ceiling. They were glowing a fiery red, easily lighting up the whole ceiling. Six's eyes were getting sore just from looking at the light show.

Leonhardt placed a hand on his chin. "It's gonna be hard to sneak around here," he noted. "Maybe we can flip the lights off and pick them off?"

"Assuming that they don't notice the change in lighting? Or if one of them's quick enough to raise the alarm?" Six replied.

He took out his rifle and began scanning the area ahead. Plenty of high ground for anyone to fire from, but he saw no snipers around. He did spot some Casters further back, though, if the cloaks and wands meant anything. No dogs to sniff them out, thankfully enough. The guards were spread out too, so he could pick them off without (instantly) alerting anyone.

"I think I can take the guards out before they can raise the alarm," Six said. "And even if they do, we can disable or shoot out the lights before reinforcements arrive."

Leonhardt nodded. "Sounds like a plan," he said. "I'll hang back here while you do the heavy lifting. Call me when the coast is clear."

Six nodded and sped off into the nearest dark corner. The world turned green as he crouched down and peeped through the sniper rifle's scope. He kicked in VATS to scan the area and the patrols. The closest goon to him had a walkie-talkie on his belt, so he was a priority target. The bastard went down without a sound and collapsed. Six sprinted up a ladder and onto another platform, taking aim at the next target.

This one was walking on a bridge and carrying a shield. Could be problematic if he goes on red alert. Six waited for him to turn his back to him before firing. The round pierced the back of his neck and he toppled onto the ground. Six went with a headshot afterward just to be safe (and to end any suffering on the bandit's part).

Unfortunately, the shield slipped out of his hand and tumbled onto the ground level with a loud 'clunk!'. This spooked another guard and caught his attention. Six saw a switch nearby and sprinted to it. As soon as the bandit reached the shield he killed the lights. The raider panicked and popped up his flashlight, spinning around like crazy. Six crept across the platform above him and waited for a moment. When the raider finally composed himself, Six dropped down onto the asshole. This knocked the wind out of him, giving the Courier the chance to silence him.

He heard footsteps to his right. "Hey, who the turned the-"

A flashlight's beam fell onto the Courier and his latest victim. Six turned to see a man with cat ears and a stave. The two looked at each other awkwardly before they drew their weapons. Six went for the Plasma Defender and fired, but the Caster was quicker. Six was knocked onto his back just as he pulled his trigger. The resulting Plasma bolt was sent flying into a light further back. It exploded into sparks as the hot sludge melted it away, sending its remains crashing down.

"What the hell was that!?"

Six cursed under his breath as the Caster ran off. He managed to land a shot into the bastard's back, though, burning through it and into his spine. The Caster fell to the ground paralyzed from the waste below. He called out as he dragged himself across the earth, but his executioner caught up to him. A bullet from Christine's gun put him down.

More lights were heading his way. Six ducked behind a barrel and waited for them to pass by. They stopped at his latest kill and were surrounding it. He was tempted to sneak around them, but there wasn't enough space or darkness to slip by. But they were cluttered together though, so…

Six pulled the pin off of a grenade and rolled it over to the crowd. It bumped up against the heel of a goon, bringing his attention to it. He stumbled back and tried to issue a warning but it was too late. That guy and another gangster were blown to pieces while two more were dazed. Another was shielded from the blast by his buddies though and charged through the smoke. He pulled out a walkie-talkie, bringing it to his face.

"Slayer here," he said. "We've got a rat problem h-"

Six didn't give him the chance to finish. He rolled from behind cover and fired his shotgun at the man's arm. It was ripped apart by the pellets, earning him an agonized cry as the pieces and device fell onto the floor. Some more blasts reduced his head to a red mist. The rest of the gangsters had their chest cavities stuffed with lead.

Six walked over to the handheld device and loomed over it.

"Slayer? Slayer, ya there? The fuck's going on?"

Six's response was to stomp on the device. As he was crushing it under his boot, he heard more footsteps. Six spun around with his shotgun out to see a Caster charging at him, wand burning like a bonfire. A gust of wind crashed into him, sending him flying into a wooden wall. Six ran up to him and finished him off with a couple of slugs. He turned back to see Leonhardt stepping into the shadows.

"Though you were hanging back," Six said.

"I was until you started those fireworks," the bunny-eared lad said.

Six sighed, sheathing his weapon. "One of them spotted me and alerted his boss. He's probably spread word to the rest of the pack by now. We need to get moving."

Leonhardt nodded and took the lead, shutting off each light they came by. Six covered the rear with some Shrapnel charges here and there. Six also inspected the bodies of his victims as they passed by, hoping to find some ammo. The closest thing he got were arrows and bolts. He had no love for their melee weapons and the shields were too heavy for him to lift.

The two traveled down yet another narrow tunnel, though it didn't feel as long as the others. Waiting at the end of it was a moderately sized room, littered with what appeared to be lab equipment. Six blinked and looked back at Leonhardt. He could tell what was going on beneath that helm.

"All this must've been for testing the energy output from the Originium," he said. "Or testing out any miscellaneous materials they come across."

Six examined the room for any loot before continuing onward. No LMDs, no bottle caps, no ammo.

[Perception 5] But his eye spotted a glow coming from a drawer nearby. He walked over to it and pulled it open, revealing a crimson cylinder-shaped object. From the looks of things, it was a battery. He pocketed it and moved on with the bunny-lad. Could be useful later down the line, or net him some money.

The next room appeared to contain a cistern. Buckets surrounded the well, while coolers and other containers were tucked away in a corner. Six peeped inside and noticed some dark particles in the water. Leonhardt gently pulled him away and shook his head. Didn't take a genius to see that the water was contaminated. But then Six noticed an opening in the back of the well.

The Courier noticed the door next to the cistern and knelt down. He looked for a keyhole to peep through but found none. In fact, it lacked any sort of lock at all. He gently tapped the door, opening it ever so slightly. Inside were a forge, workbenches, and a bunch of tools. Not just hammer and anvil, but also power tools. Drills, saws, pickaxes, grapple hooks, even some explosives. Then he heard voices behind the door. Was he spotted? No, they didn't seem to notice anything. They were too busy talking with someone.

Six opened the door further and poked his head out some. Two goons were talking to a couple of folks on their knees. Both were wearing mining uniforms and hardhats, worn and ancient. Their hands were chained behind their backs, faces bruised. One of them grabbed a woman by her shirt and grinned.

Six didn't want to think what he would've done next. He sprung into action, tackling him to the ground and jamming Chance into his throat. The other goon was startled by this and attempted to run for help, but Leonhardt threw him back with a burst of whirlwind. Six melted him with his Plasma Pistol before he could get back up. When he looked back at the hostages, they were mortified by the puddle before them. Obviously, they've never seen someone melt before.

Leonhardt cut off the chains that bound them and helped them onto their feet. As they rose Six noticed something off about them. The woman had a dark spike burst through her right shoulder while the man had the same mineral growing on his cheek. Oripathy?

The woman brewed up the courage to speak with the Courier. "A bit excessive back there, but you have my thanks regardless," she said. "What brings you here?"

"My associate's a Cataclysm Messenger. Me, I'm just hunting for the leader of some bandits. You wouldn't happen to have seen one with an ebony-diamond ring, have you?"

The two rapidly shook their heads. "Do you at least know where the leader is?"

They nodded, pointing to the door ahead. "Bastard holed himself up at the motherlode," the man said. "He's got our friends locked in some cages at the barracks back there too. We'd be obliged if you could free them."

"Not while there're raiders crawling about," Six said. "Best that we exterminate them first. Wait here while we do that."

Leonhardt and Six peeked through the next door to assess the situation. Ahead of them was the largest cavern in the network, and the biggest Originium stockpile Six had ever seen. There were some underground ponds here and there, but nothing like the lake from the last mine. There were plenty of ramps and platforms to climb up on too. Six could see a makeshift throne of scrap up ahead. No brainer as to who that belonged to.

There was a massive man with bear ears ahead, and a Sarkaz man tied up next to his throne. The former was wielding what can best be described as a chainsaw on a stick. Six couldn't decide whether to laugh at the weapon design or admire the locals' ingenuity. He wasn't as massive as a Super Mutant, but he looked like he could give Lanius a run for his money with those muscles.

"That the wanker?" Leonhardt asked.

"Seems so," Six whispered back. "Think you can handle him?"

"Don't worry," the boy boasted. "I've toppled plenty of blokes like him back in Billiton."

"You sure about that?" taunted a voice from above.

The duo barely had enough time to avoid being hacked apart by a set of falling blades. No, not just blades. People. Assassins. They were waiting for them. The bear-man turned to face them with a sadistic grin.

"So, these are the gnawbeasts infesting my hideout?" he said. "Have to admit, I was expecting some suits."

"And I was expecting someone with bigger muscles and brains," Six retorted. At least he isn't one of those Sarkaz mutants.

The bear-man- Ursus? Ursi?- snorted. "Well, you're at straight to the point. Not like those mafia-types, all that dog-whistling. Never a straight answer. Lemme guess; there's a price on my head."

"Well your ring technically, but yeah. Hand it over and I might let you walk with both legs intact."

The man raised an eyebrow. "Ring? What ring?" he said. "Rings are for little girls. Who the hell fed you that crap?"

The chainsaw-spear-thing was revving up now. "No matter. I'll teach you a little lesson in respect, bitch!"

The assassins were the first to strike. One of them managed to get a slash at his back, but his Elite Riot Gear withstood the blow. He grabbed the offender by the arm and pulled them in for a stabbing of his own. They were lightly armored so Chance cut through them like butter. As he dropped the first rogue another lunged at him. He sidestepped the charge and fired his shotgun, crippling their legs. Another slug into their back finished them off.

Several raiders tried to gang up on Leonhardt, but a concussive blast scattered them. One had the misfortune of landing at Six's feet. His shotgun was the last thing he saw. Something flew past his helm. He looked up to see some snipers raining bolts and arrows down on them. He ran to cover and drew out Christine's rifle. Toggling VATS he took aim at their arms and returned fire. He crippled three limbs, even knocking a crossbow out of one goon's hands.

Leonhardt followed up with another blast of Arts, sending the offending party everywhere. Swordsmen charged at them, shield-bearers following behind. One of the former was stupid enough to run straight into Leonhardt's spear, gutting himself. The others were smarter, dancing around the heroes and rolling under Leonhardt's swings. They were too close for him to use his Arts and quick enough to evade his blade. But nothing could escape VATS. Six locked on and crippled their legs, allowing the Cautus to finish them off.

The walking tanks were a real problem. They blocked all of their attacks, even the Plasma Defender. He was tempted to use Thump Thump, but then he remembered Leonhardt's words. That originium stuff already defied science in the hands of the natives. He didn't want to see what it could do without anyone to control it. He ran to another platform and flanked the brutes.

He was about to fire his sniper rifle when something slammed into him. No, not just slam. Shred. Something tried to rip through his armor. The impact threw him off of the platform and onto the ground below. He rolled just in time to avoid being impaled by a chainsaw. Six rose onto his feet and switched to his riot shotgun. He had a couple seconds to reload before the Ursus dashed towards him.

Six ducked under a swipe and sidestepped a vertical swing, firing after the strike. The pellets hit his armor but it held. Six backed up and fired again but the asshole blocked some of them with his weapon. The Courier then punched in VATS and targeted his arms. Three shots crippled one, but he held onto his spear-thing for dear life. It still had an effect on his prowess, though. His swings were more sluggish and easier to dodge.

Then something unexpected happened. He threw the thing to the ground and picked up the Courier with his good arm. He bashed his head against his skull and threw him down too, before stomping his boot on his ribcage. The breastplate was pressing against his ribcage now. His adamantium skeleton withstood the pressure, but he didn't know how long it would last. He stabbed at the limb with Chance's knife, but the bandit hardly reacted.

But he did react to Leonhardt. He slashed the asshole across his back and sent him stumbling back with Arts. He helped the Courier up onto his feet as the Ursus fell onto his bottom and Six unloaded every slug he had left onto him. The raider blocked the blasts with his arms, but that only got the remaining good one and his torso crippled. Six backpedaled to reload and bumped into something.

It was one of the shieldbearers. He tried to grab the Courier but he backstepped and fired at him. His torso took the full blow, staggering him and leaving him open for Plasma bolts. He screamed as the green goo burned through his armor and into his organs. He let out one last gasp of air before dropping dead. Six didn't have time to celebrate, though. Another one smashed his shield against him and sent him flying.

Six slammed against the ramp to the throne in a daze. He crawled up as the world stopped spinning and glanced down at his feet. The walking tank was strutting towards him, taking his sweet time. A 'psst!' caught his attention. He looked beside himself to see the Sarkaz captive. He had dark hair and crimson eyes, giving him a somewhat devil-like look. His horns and tail were navy-blue, like the rags covering his body. There were some patches of black rocks on his arms too.

"You look like you could use a hand," the horned one said.

"Right back at ya," Six replied.

A battlecry broke off the conversation. The shieldguard leapt at him with his hammer, forcing Six to roll to the side. A few shots from his Plasma Defender made him drop the weapon, though. Six backed up and reloaded as the brute swung again. He missed and ended up shattering his boss's throne instead. He dropped the shield and covered his mouth.

"Uh oh," was all he said before Six melted his entire head.

The Courier went back to the Sarkaz. "Sorry, you were gonna say something?"

"Yeah; cut me loose and I'll help you bury those wankers."

Six knelt down and inspected his bonds. Thankfully it was rope instead of chains, so all he needed was Chance. He cut the bindings and the man jumped back onto his feet, stretching his limbs. He let out a sigh of relief.

"Much better! You happen to have a sword on you? Or at least a crossbow."

Six drew out Wolf's Bane and tossed it to him, plus a quiver of bolts. "These work?"

The man grinned. "Oh absolutely," he said.

Six changed the batteries on his Defender while he charged back into the battle. The Sarkaz took up position on a platform and opened fire on the last shieldguard, drawing his attention. Leonhardt broke off from the leader and used the opportunity to hammer the goon with Arts blasts, staggering him. Six followed up with some slugs, blowing off the bandit's arms. The former captive moved on to the swordsmen, pinning them under suppressive fire. Leonhardt sent them flying with his AoE blasts.

Their leader was about to charge at Leonhardt, but then his gaze fell upon his broken throne. His eyes were bloodshot.

"My throne!" he shouted. "You pieces of shit! Do you know how long it took to weld that together!?"

"Long enough for you to notice?" Six taunted.

The man went berserk, screeching at the top of his lungs. It was impossible to predict his moves from here on out. One minute he was going for stabs, the next slashes, and then bulldozering all around the cavern. Leonhardt's concussive blasts had little effect on him during his rampage, and he had already wrecked a significant portion of the hideout trying to squash them. Six and their newfound sniper were running out of high ground too. Then the Courier had an idea.

Six hopped down from his platform and placed a satchel charge behind himself. He whistled and beckoned the bandit chieftain with a finger, followed by flipping the double cheeseburger. That caught the raider's attention and he came charging forward. At the last second, Six rolled out of the way, narrowly dodging his chainsaw. A beeping sound brought the brute's attention to his feet.

His legs were consumed in an explosion, with one of them being obliterated. The leader howled in agony and grabbed what remained of the limb, trying to stop the bleeding. The Sarkaz used the opportunity to pepper him with bolts, pinning over a dozen into his chest. Six followed up with a bullet from That Gun. The combined gunfire put him out of his misery.

The demonic native let out a burst of triumphant laughter. "And that's what you get for treating us like animals, ya bloody wankers!"

Six knelt down at the fresh corpse and inspected his pockets. The man had some snacks, LMDs, bobby pins, and a key. Probably for the cages. Six called the horned one over and tossed the last item to him. He smiled and went to work on freeing his friends. Six went back to looting the body for resources. Some bolts and arrows, but no bullets. Yet when he cast his sights on his hands...

There wasn't a ring anyway. He searched the pockets again. Nothing.

Leonhardt noticed his erratic movement and walked over to him. "What's wrong?" the lad asked.

"There isn't a ring on him," Six said. "The bounty said that their leader was supposed to have a ring on them. How the hell am I supposed to get my payment without it?"

Six placed a hand on his armored chin. "Now that I think about it, the bounty said that they were Infected bandits. But I haven't seen any signs of infection on the one I killed. Did you?"

Leonhardt shook his head. The Sarkaz overheard their conversation and joined in on it after releasing his fellow prisoners.

"Did you say something about a ring?"

"Yeah. Knucklehead here was supposed to have one."

The man frowned. "Was he now?"

The Courier raised an eyebrow as he raised his hand. There was a band on one finger, dark as night. Wait… there was a diamond on it!

"Where did you-?"

Something else clicked in Six's brain. That man was Infected and had the ring. Wouldn't that mean-?

Six drew out Chance's Knife. "You're the real bandit leader, aren't you?" he said in an accusing voice.

The Sarkaz snorted. "Bandit? Is that what the mayor's calling us Infected these days? For trying to survive in this world? For scavenging ruins and chewing on canned meat? I'm many things, but a 'bandit'… hell no. Just because I'm the only decent swordsman among this lot doesn't mean that I'm a marauder. How the hell can I even harass anyone all by my lonesome self? The way I see it, that 'bounty' is the scumbag's means of tying up loose ends."

"Explain."

The demon sighed. "Tell me, did either of you happen to see any Infected back in Da Vinci?"

"[Perception 6] None with visible crystals on their skin," Six recalled. "And none of the patients I tended to had any in their guts either."

The Sarkaz nodded. "The last mayor was tolerant of Infected individuals. His successor, not so much. He ran a revolt against him and us a year ago. The bastard had him and any Infected he caught burnt at fucking stakes. STAKES! And the kicker? He's in bed with the bloody mafia. They have the audacity to call themselves 'Sicilians' too. Bunch of copycats, the lot of them."

Six just stood there, trying to process the information. He turned to Leonhardt for confirmation. "He's kidding right?"

The other young man had a doubtful look on his face. "Mostima did warn us to keep our infection status a secret before we left headquarters. It's not uncommon for innocent Infected to be hunted down by non-infected people. Appalling, but not surprising."

Six growled, balling up his fists. As furious as he was, he wasn't all that surprised either. Bigots and mafia he got, but something was missing.

"Where the hell does the ring fit into all of this?" Six noted.

The Sarkaz shrugged. "It used to belong to the last mayor. Guess the bastard wants it as a trophy or something."

"Let me see."

The man hesitated. Six sighed.

"[Speech 45] So long as you hold it, the mayor will come after you," he pointed out. " Me carrying it around will give them the impression that you're dead."

The man placed a hand on his chin. After thirty seconds he relented and handed the Courier the ring. There were some engravings on it. A vine-like pattern with lilies. Six looked at the inside to see some words on it.

Manuel Ganza. Fierce defender and loyal friend.

There was an emblem in place of the period. It looked like a fox mask. Six showed it to the Sarkaz.

"This symbol ring any bells?" he asked.

The man shook his head. "Nope," he said. "Everybody I showed it to was as clueless as you."

Six pocketed the ring. "Well, at least they'll be off your tail now. Best that you-"

The cave rattled as an explosion went off somewhere behind them. No, not behind. Above. It was coming from somewhere above their heads. Leonhardt looked at the Courier. He could see where this was going.

"One of the bikers must've stepped on a charge," he speculated. "But they shouldn't be that-"

Another explosion rocked the room. This time some crystals and stalagmites were thrown off of the ceiling and nearly crashed atop everyone. Everybody managed to dodge the debris and made a dash toward the forge. The motherlode collapsed in itself afterward.

The forge was empty when they arrived. The hostages from earlier must've made a break for the exit. Six couldn't blame them, considering what just happened. A crimson light was bleeding through the rubble of the motherlode and into the forge. Leonhardt's skin turned pale.

"Move!" he shouted.

Sure enough, another explosion erupted, this time directly behind them. They were flung through the cistern and into one of the barren lodes. One of the Sarkaz's Infected friends had the misfortune of hitting his head against the well. His body was limp while blood leaked from his skull. The demonic one rushed to his side and placed a couple of fingers on his throat's side.

His mournful expression confirmed the fellow's death. They didn't have time to mourn, though, as more explosions erupted from further up. There were a bunch of crashing sounds in the next room, glass shattering. The ragtag team ran through a laboratory in disarray, broken glass and equipment everywhere. Everybody ran past the wreckage and into the next lode.

All of the platforms had collapsed. The originium crystals that dangled on the ceiling had fallen onto the floor. Energy was crackling from the fractured crystals in every direction. Six got blasted by the energy but his armor held up. The others put as much distance between themselves and the originium as possible. Strangely enough, nobody encountered the satchel charges he left behind. Did someone step on them earlier?

Another minute of running like hell and they made it to the fork. Six could see the entrance just ahead but something was wrong. There were some shapes around it. Some of them had a faint red outline while others looked familiar. He recognized the latter group as satchel charges. His charges. A man in a trench coat popped out from behind an old house up ahead. And he had a crossbow pointed at them.

"So long asswipes!" he shouted.

Six drew out That Gun and toggled VATS, opening fire on the gangster. None of the bullets landed on their target. The thug's bolt hit one of the bombs and detonated it, causing a chain reaction. Before anybody could react the cavern entrance collapsed onto itself. Six barely managed to avoid being buried alive in the chaos. When the dust cleared he got back onto his feet and stared at the goon's handiwork. He cursed and threw That Gun onto the ground, drawing out Thump Thump. He pointed the grenade launcher at the rockpile but Leonhardt got between him and it.

"Oi!" he shouted. "Are you trying to kill us all?!"

"I'm trying to blast our way out, dingbat!"

"Or to bring the ceiling down on us."

Six lowered the grenade launcher, processing that sentence. He sighed and sheathed his weapon, kneeling down to reclaim the pistol. He took a deep breath and collected his thoughts.

"What about the garage door? I can try blasting that instead."

"Hell no."

The Sarkaz spoke up. "I might know of another way out. One that doesn't involve any explosions. Follow me."

The party followed the horned one back to the cafeteria. Six was about to make a snarky quip about hunger when the man threw a shelf onto the floor. Behind it was a gaping hole, big enough for a person to slip through. He pointed at it and motioned for everyone to move. One by one the party entered the hole, with Six covering their rear.

They were in a massive tunnel now, one with puddles and moss everywhere. No floodlights or torches or anything to light the way for them, though. Six flipped on his Pip-Boy's light for everyone, taking position at the front with the Sarkaz. Leonhardt took the rear while the remaining Infected surrounded their leader.

At first, Six thought that this tunnel was natural. But as they marched on he noticed signs of mining. Rough patches of rock instead of smooth stone. Lines and engravings on the wall. He even spotted a pickaxe or two on the floor. This wasn't natural. It was abandoned.

"Have you explored any of this?" Six asked the Infected pack.

One shook her head. "Never got the chance to," she admitted. "Not without working lights. We weren't gonna use torches or lanterns with the risk of gases down here. We have done a fair bit of hunting in whatever parts were lit though."

"Hunting for what?"

"Originium slugs. Their juices help numb the pain from our oripathy."

Six tilted his head. He was about to ask what the hell they were when several rectangles popped up on his compass. Movement. At least a dozen unidentified life forms were ahead. He drew That Gun, alerting the rest of his party. They followed his example and raised their arms.

The dots had surrounded them all, but Six didn't see anything. Was the Pip-boy malfunctioning? Were they invisible? No. No, his gut told him it was something else. The enemy revealed itself, burrowing from the ground and the ceiling. They were small and round, resembling a creature Six had only seen in books. 'Snails', he believed the proper term was.

"Speak of the devil!" cursed the Sarkaz.

The creatures swarmed towards them. Everybody was forced into melee combat, batting or squishing the infected creatures. Most of them produced small limbs and teeth of originium, scraping at their victims. They were glass-jaws in the Courier's eyes, but they had the numbers and the darkness to make up for it.

The group marched on, stomping or stabbing any slug that flung itself at them. Six had armor but the civilians weren't so lucky. They were already covered in scraps, bitemarks, and slashes. Death by a thousand cuts is still death. They had to find an exit and fast.

At last, light shined down on them. Six could see an opening ahead, blocked by several of the native fauna. These ones had hex-shaped stalagmites erupting from their shells and had something oozing out. One of them flung the sludge at a man's face and burnt half of it off. Acid. Six growled. He took out his shotgun and fired at them from a distance. The pellets ripped through them, splattering their corrosive guts onto the ground.

He saw movement ahead, behind some boulders. Another goon- another trench coat? Maybe the same one?- popped and fired a glowing bolt at them. Six took a direct hit to the chest and was flung back into the cave. Another bolt struck the ceiling above him. He attempted to dive back into the open, but he wasn't quick enough. He found himself buried under the rubble and the man let out a cruel laugh.

Six couldn't see anything under the rubble but he did hear an engine roar ahead of him. Wheels tore into the earth and ran off into the distance. He tried to move but he was pinned under all this weight. His armor was holding up but he wasn't sure for how long. Sooner or later it'll crack from the pressure. And when that happens- he didn't want to think about that.

The weight started to fade. No, not just the weight. The rocks themselves were fading. Or rather turning into powder. He also felt vibrations around him. Were the boulders shaking themselves apart? A couple of hands reached through the grains and pulled him back onto his feet. It was an exhausted Leonhardt.

"Huh," he jested. "Croissant was right. You really are headstrong."

"I get that a lot. You okay? What happened back there?"

"Hell if we know," said the Sarkaz. "He just held his hand out and 'poof'! All gone."

The Courier dusted himself off. "What about the slugs?"

"All dealt with. Although..."

The Sarkaz pointed behind himself with his thumb. One of the Infected civilians lay slumped against a wall, covered in bleeding scratches and scars. A woman was clutching a bloody stump where her arm used to be. One more individual was walking with a limp leg, suffering from some acid burn. Six led the survivors out of the cave and examined their surroundings. Once he was certain that they were safe, he set a Doctor's Bag on the ground. Leonhardt looked at him.

"What?" Six asked.

"Aren't you worried about contracting Oripathy?" Leonhardt asked.

"I've got leather gloves on, so no. You?"

"Already Infected."

Now it was everyone else's turn to be surprised. Leonhardt let out a nervous chuckle.

"It's only on an internal level," he said. "Nothing like spikes popping out or anything."

"That honestly sounds worse," Six said.

"Are we gonna help these people or not?"

Six wanted to slap himself silly for getting sidetracked like that. He and Leonhardt split the supplies and went to work patching up the civilians. He disinfected a woman's wounds, injected a Stimpak into her shoulder, and bandaged up where her arm used to be.

"A normie tending to us Infected?" said the woman in surprise. "I must be dreaming."

Six simply shook his head and smiled under his helm. He got up to some more survivors. They were luckier than her, having only scratches. He applied Med-X and stitched the biggest offenders shut, then disinfected the smaller ones and bandaged them too. Leonhardt had already finished with his share by this point and was scouting out the area. He returned a minute later with a frown.

"Couldn't find that trenchcoat anywhere," he said. "Must've driven off."

"What about our ride? Is it safe?" Six asked.

"That I can confirm. Checked it for traps and everything. Nothing's been tampered with. Also found a ride for our new friends."

Leonhardt led the group to an old humvee nearby. It was rusty as hell but otherwise intact. The hood was raised up, exposing the engine. It didn't resemble any that Six had seen on Earth though. He could see wires in the hood but no pipes. It doesn't look as though it used gasoline for fuel. He knew of nuclear engines in certain models but he never had the opportunity of examining one. Those old relics were prone to exploding back home. Could this car be similar to those?

The Sarkaz whistled at the sight. "Lucky us. Just need a battery."

Six reached into his pack and drew out the cylinder he found. "Like this?"

The Sarkaz nodded and took the item from the Courier. He inserted it into a slot and pressed a button on the engine. A crimson light consumed the inside of the hood. The Infected piled into the car, with the horned one in the driver's seat. There was already a key inserted into it, so he just gave it a twist and the whole machine roared to life. The man let out a triumphant laugh and threw a fist into the air. He rolled down his window and looked back at the duo.

"Thank you," he said. "Not many people would give an Infected soul a hand."

"Where will you go?" Six asked.

"I dunno. Out west I think. Maybe to Columbia. But we've got wounded with us so I don't know if all of us can-"

He stopped and looked back at the maimed Infected. Leonhardt tore out a piece of paper from a notepad and wrote something on it. Then he leaned at the window and handed it to him. He spoke in his native tongue ('Billitoner', was it?) so Six couldn't make out most of it. He was able to translate some bits and pieces.

"...Island...east...great...days…care..."

After their conversation ended, the Sarkaz rolled up his window and drove off. He was heading east if Six's HUD was correct. Six walked over to Leonhardt.

"Where'd you send them?" he asked.

"Somewhere where they can get treatment," the bunny-lad replied. "Speaking of which, where'd you learn to patch them up like that?"

"I had some personal experience out in the wastes. And a couple of good teachers. Ready to head back?"

Leonhardt nodded. The two hopped onto the bike and sped off. Six's thoughts drifted to the saboteurs during the trip back. Their attire reminded him of the stereotypical mafioso from those pre-war movies. Where the hell did they come from? Had they followed them? Or were they waiting for them? Why cause cave-ins instead of just gunning them down? Was it just a flair for the dramatic?

Leonhardt could sense the tense. "You alright mate?" he asked.

"Not really, just trying to make sense of today."

"I don't blame you. Learning that the mafia set up a bounty on some innocent folk isn't something everyone can handle."

"That's not exactly it. Did you see either of those people at the entrances?"

The Cautus nodded. "Diffidentlyreeked of mafia back there. You think the mayor sent them?"

"My gut says 'yes', but I can't figure out why. What's the point of causing a cave-in? Why even bother trying to kill us?"

"Maybe they're cheapskates? Don't want to hand out LMD to hard workers like you and me?"

"Maybe, but… something feels off. That bounty post was fresh, printed recently. That Sarkaz said his crew's been at those mines for a year, and yet the mayor chose now to put a price on his head. He didn't seem to consider them a threat until recently. What changed his mind?"

"Maybe he just discovered them the other day?"

"Maybe… I dunno. My guts' not liking any of this. Something stinks."

Leonhardt shrugged. "I think you're just overthinking it, mate. Mafia these days are nothing but petty thugs. The only agenda they've got is extortion and conquest. No complex conspiracies or anything grand."

"I'll have you know that my paranoia has kept me alive since my first attempted assassination."

Leonhardt seemed bewildered by that last detail. "First?"

Six wanted to slap himself for letting it slip. "I have a lot of enemies back home," he explained.

"Geez, and here I thought I was the only one with a rogue's gallery. What did you do?"

"Kick some asses off of some land they were trying to conquer. You?"

"Eh, a rescue mission that unearthed some corporate corruption. That led to a domino effect ending with a riot. Some rich folk got killed that day."

"Wow. I salute you."

"Uh, thanks?"

Six peered over Leonhardt's head. There's Da Vinci but something seems different. Something was climbing over the platform's walls. Was that… smoke? And embers? Six tapped Leonhardt's shoulder and pointed. He could feel the dread creeping into the boy's soul.

"What on Terra…?" he muttered.

The Cautus floored it. Six clung on for his dear life as Leonhardt closed in on the town. They must've been going at ninety miles- maybe even a hundred- per hour. He didn't slow down until they reached the ramp to the garage. When they finally parked inside Leonhardt hopped and sped off to town. Six could barely keep up with him on foot until they got into town.

The two of them followed the smoke back to the subhouse. It and the surrounding buildings were a mess. The subhouse had been blown to pieces while the buildings around it were scorched. Several bodies were lying around, some moving, some not.

Six knelt down beside one and placed a couple of fingers on its neck. No pulse. The attire was a grey trench coat and sunglasses. It looked like it leaped out of the silver screen from where Six stood. In its cold dead hands was a crossbow with a barreled drum, not unlike that of a Tommy Gun. The mafia's been here.

That wasn't the only type of body. There were some civilians too, including office workers from Pengiun Logistics. There must've been a firefight. Six ran into the smoke, shotgun in hand. He nearly tripped over a body riddled with bolts and looked down. It was the Cerato. Six examined it too. No pulse either. His fists balled up and he resumed his search.

At last, he found a living figure among the ashes. Someone was standing over a hole, probably the bunker's entrance. Was that… Croissant? She was motioning towards something. She reached down and pulled something over her shoulder. Another body, this time one of the office workers. They were still breathing.

Leonhardt ran up to the girl. "Oi!" he shouted. What the bloody hell ha-"

Croissant spun around with her hammer and nearly clocked Leonhardt with it, stopping just inches from his face. She reeled back as she recognized him and saw Six approaching her.

"Oh Lordie," she said. "Thank gudness it's you two. Listen. We got hit by some Sicilian copycats while y'all were gone. It's bad. It's-"

Leonhardt placed a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay lass," he assured her. "We're here."

"But not everybody is. We've lost some good people and-"

She shook her head. "They've got Suzuran, Leonhardt. They've got her. April an' the robot too. I'm sawry."

Notes:

And shit just hit the fan. Hoo boy…

First off, the dream. That was an exercise in humor (or at least the first half was) and a reference to a cut ending for Old World Blues. The second half is less humorous and references some of the more nightmarish stuff in Arknights. You can guess what each piece alludes to. And before you ask, the dream doesn't show his actual level of Intelligence. It's higher than the checks indicate.

So Six's companion of the day was Leonhardt. Another Cautus, another native of a wasteland out west. I drew upon his backstory as inspiration for the 'dungeon' of the chapter. Messed around with some dungeon-making programs while writing this too for further influence.

The assassins that dropped down on the duo are more-or-less Fast Deploys like Gravel or Projekt Red. Too bad they don't have the armor of the former. The boss of the chapter wields a weapon like Blaze's or Specters. And before you ask, yes he would've been an AOE like them.

The Sarkaz in here was based on the Dark Elves of The Elder Scrolls series. He… has as much an affinity to fire as they do. Combine that with his race's swordsmanship and he has the potential to function as a certain enemy type. We'll be seeing more of him down the road. All I need is a bloody name for him. :/

A reviewer on here recently tried to piece together Six's SPECIAL stats. I have been considering posting his (initial) build at some point in this story, but I think it's too early to do so right now. I have left some allusions to his Perks of choice, though.

There'll be hell to pay in the next chapter. Count on it.

Chapter 6: Lilys

Summary:

The Bird has left the Pond. Now we make our splash.

Some time after the Courier and Leonhardt's departure...

System reboot initializing...

OS online. Running diagnostics scan on primary systems.

Motion tracker activated. Navigational systems online. IFF markers online. Refreshing targeting parameters… complete. No changes detected. Workbench fully operational. Automated repairs online. Tactical interface and damage-avoidance protocols online. Companion protocol scripts loaded.

Error! Universal interface override system incompatible with current hardware. Recommend hardware update to utilize duplicate's hacking capabilities.

Localized gravity field online. Repulsors fully functional. Biometric and medical scanners online.

Danger! Motion detectors indicate that combat is already in progress beyond the designated base. Smoke and high temperatures detected. Probability of fires is high. Calculating best course of action.

Mission update; investigate commotion for analysis. Attempt to contact User.

Error: Door is unresponsive. Running diagnostic check on Tesla cannon… complete. Cannon is fully operational. Conducting field test on doorknob.

Complete; Tesla cannon is functioning as intended and the barrier is removed. Departing designated base now.

Danger! Enemy forces- designation "mobsters"- have already breached allied base. Casualties on both sides detected. Confirmation of civilians under fire.

Guardian Protocel initiated. Mission objectives updated. Defend the civilian population and terminate all hostile forces. Entering combat zone now.

Optical sensors detecting allied IFF markers. Designation 'Croissant'. Allied marker is under fire from mobster-units. Playing file; 'victorious charge'. Entering combat

---

To say that Croissant was having a bad day was putting it mildly. Not long after Leonahrdt and Six left there was an explosion outside the subhouse. The next thing she knew there was sniper fire and some thugs stormed into the bunker. They weren't the grunts that she and Six ran into days ago either. They were merciless, cutting down anyone without a second thought.

One of them had already ripped the shield and hammer from her hands and restrained her. Another was beating the living hell out of her with some brass knuckles. One more was trying to tear down Hoover's door with a sledgehammer. He was about to break through when they heard music through the smoke.

A blue bolt of energy struck the brute at the door, superheating his armor and scarring the flesh underneath. He yelled out in pain as another light flew at him, melting through the breastplate. One more struck him in the face and melted his face's flesh too. He could only let out a muffled scream as his lips and eyelids melded together. One more put him out of his misery.

His buddies were startled by the laserfire. "Che cazzo!?" exclaimed the one holding Croissant.

His grip on her was slightly relaxed. That allowed her to slip a hand free and grab his arm. She threw him over her shoulder and into the asshole with the brass knuckles. She retrieved her weapons and smashed the latter's legs first, then his skull. The last goon was disintegrated before she could have her revenge. She looked back to see ED-E flying toward her.

"Thank the lords," she exclaimed. "Thought they'd run off with my goods or worse."

ED-E issued a series of beeps at her. "I'll take that as a 'yer welcome.' Ya happ'n to come across anyone else?"

ED-E replied with more negative-sounding beeps. Croissant sighed.

"Well, can ya keep an eye out for them? I've gots some folk dat need savin'."

ED-E issued an acknowledging tone as she ran back into the smoke.

{Mission update: Locate and assess situation with remaining allies. Currently unaccounted: Exusiai, Suzuran, and April.}

ED-E flew back into the battlefield, vaporizing any goon stupid enough to tangle with it. Survivors ran past the eyebot and towards the exit, occasionally carrying a body with them. The eyebot and its User never properly explored the bunker, so it was surprised to find it bigger than its User anticipated.

There were several wings, each possessing a different function. Lobby, intelligence, offices, vaults, workshop, and some more. The more the robot explored, the more of a labyrinth it became. Considering the company that owned it, it was likely a deliberate design choice. No problem for a robot such as ED-E, though.

Eventually, it found Exusiai in front of a giant vault. It didn't know what it held but it was obviously valuable. The girl had already ripped several of the minions to shreds with her guns and wasn't having any issue with the rest. As far as ED-E was concerned, she was fine. Still, it did blast some of the goons charging at her anyway. Protocol did dictate the elimination of all hostiles, after all.

It didn't stick around to hear her thanks. It didn't need them. The robot flew around some more, running into April and Suzuran at something resembling an arcade room. They were surrounded by thugs and April seemed to be struggling with her aim. The smoke must be clouding her vision.

ED-E flew into the fray and unleashed a laser storm on the gangsters. Many of them were scorched to the bone or vaporized before they could process who just entered the arena. Some managed to escape with varying degrees of burns into some other part of the complex. The rest tried to up a fight.

April took out one of her arrows and began using it as a makeshift dagger, stabbing at the nearest goon. Suzuran conjured up some form of Arts field. The wounds on April began to fade away while the enemies' movement wave slowed to a crawl. What perplexed the robot was that it was also reacting to its automated repair systems. It noticed an increase in efficiency in those mechanisms while in the field's radius.

Both girls looked at the robot with relief as the Arts field died down. "Thank goodness you came along," Suzuran said. "Otherwise those bad people…"

Suzuran looked at some of the civilian bodies before closing her eyes. April knelt down and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Shh… It's okay," she assured the child. "We're here. We'll keep you safe."

"But who's going to protect everyone else? We can put up a fight, but they-"

ED-E could easily pick up the distress in her voice. It floated over to her and issued some bleeps at her. They seemed to calm her down some, judging from the smile on her face. Before the conversation could go on any further, there was a flash of light. The girls yelled and staggered around, covering their eyes and ears. It must've been a flashbang grenade.

ED-E was unaffected of course, being a robot. But when it turned around to face the offenders a blast of navy-blue hit it. Its anti-gravity repulsor and several other systems went offline. Static and whitenoise now obstructed its vision. A quick diagnostics test revealed that its Perception was brought down from a perfect 10 to a crippling 1.

It could only make out faint outlines of everything. It could barely pick out the sounds of punches and kicks, followed by the females shouting something. Something had picked up the eyebot and was carrying it through the smoke. Before its optics failed it caught a glimpse of its abductor; devilish horns and tail, gleaming arm. Cigar in his mouth.

Then the operating system crashed.

---

Now...

"They've got Suzuran, Leonhardt. They've got her. April and the robot too. I'm sawry."

Six blinked. 'The robot'? They couldn't possibly mean-

Six ran down the ladder without a second thought. His mask filtered out the smoke but it didn't help his vision all that much. The Pip-boy's flashlight proved to be useless in these conditions too. Every so often his feet made contact with a body and he stumbled over it. On one occasion he found a pile of grey ashes. A sign of disintegration by laserfire. He called out for ED-E, checked his Pip-Boy for the Eyebot's signal. Nothing.

The complex was bigger than he expected. He never thought about exploring it further beyond the barracks and initial lobby. Now he was regretting it. Many of the halls have collapsed or caved in, blocking off several paths and wings. In whatever areas he could access he didn't find the Eyebot. There were two places he could think of the little robot going to at this point.

At last, he made his way back to his room. The door was open and everything had been reduced to ashes. ED-E's frame was nowhere to be seen, though. What's more was that the lock appeared to have been shot off from the inside. Didn't take a genius to figure out who did that. Six let out a sigh of relief. So he didn't burn up in there.

Six noticed that Hoover's door had been smashed to pieces and peered inside. The old man was slumped against a wall. Six knelt down and felt for a pulse. Nothing. He looked down to see crimson stains on his chest. It was still fresh, sticking to his gloved fingers. Maybe there was still a chance to revive him. He jammed a Stimpak into Hoover's chest. He can give him CPR once it's sealed up and they're out of the smoke.

Six went back to searching for his robo-buddy in the meantime. He checked every nook and cranny but he never turned up. His heart was sinking closer to the abyss by the second. His boot bumped against something. Something metallic judging from the 'clank' he heard. He looked down to see his Sonic Emitter. Six picked it up and examined it. It was all crumpled up like a tin can. That was a fucking gift from Dr. 8.

Something crossed Six's mind; he hasn't seen any of the other weapons he left in here. Frantically he searched the room again, throwing open every drawer and everything else onto the floor. He noticed a number of safes and boxes under a workbench. They were all busted open, with a drill judging from the marks.

He looked back at Hoover's body. The holes hadn't closed up at all. Either the chems were taking their sweet time or-

His head weighed itself down. He really is gone. Something pressed itself against his back. He had been through this scenario enough times to recognize the feel of a gun barrel. He held his hands up in the air.

"Turn around slowly," a familiar voice commanded.

Six did as told to face a woman wearing a gasmask. Even with all the smoke and ashes, Six could still make out a white-and-black coat and red hair. The muzzle of her gun drifted away from his chest soon afterward.

"Six?" Exusiai said in relief. "Man am I glad to see you."

"Believe it or not the feeling's mutual. What the hell happened here?"

"That'll have to wait until we're topside. We've got fires and some bodies down here. We're not leaving anyone behind."

Six nodded, grabbing Hoover's body and slinging it over his shoulder. He had already memorized the route back up days ago so it wasn't too difficult on paper. The smoke and debris however were making things complicated for him. At least twice Exusiai had to stop and move some stuff over for him. He could see Croissant smashing her way through some rubble, clearing the way for some workers.

They finally reached the ladder and climbed up. Exusiai was the first to taste fresh air and help Six pull Hoover onto the surface. As soon as Six got he knelt down beside the corpse. Without the smoke to obscure them, Six got a better look at the injuries.

[Medicine 40] The first thing that caught his attention was the holes in his chest. No burn marks, arrows, or bolts. Didn't take a genius to see these as bullet holes. Hardly uncommon back home, but probably rare as hell on Terra.

Exusiai was kneeling beside him now. "No bolts or arrows in him," she noted. "Must be bullet holes."

Six examined the corpse some more. There were bruises all over his head and arms, plus some cuts on the latter. Looks like someone got up close and personal with him. He tried to block the blows from the looks of things. Obviously, he failed. A glint caught his eye; there was still a bullet lodged in his chest. Six carefully pried it off of the body and showed it to Exusiai.

".45 Auto,'' she deduced. "That's rare, even among firearms. The only one I've ever seen is-" Her eyes went wide. "Oh lordie…"

Six had a similar reaction. "One of my guns," he realized. A Light Shining In Darkness.

He looked over to the Cerato. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, he could actually inspect the body. It was just like Hoover's; riddled with bruises and bullet holes, with the extra seasoning of bolts. The holes themselves were of a different size, though.

[Guns 30] They were 10mm. Sleepytime. The one in the back of his head seemed to be the coup de grâce. .45 auto like with Hoover.

"...Guntur." Exusiai said. So that was his name.

Six's hands balled up into fists. That gun already had enough of a bloody history from what Graham told him about himself. He thought that giving it to Six would wash the blood away, absolve it of his own crimes. Instead, the Courier allowed history to repeat itself. He buckled and fell onto his knees. He was clawing at the concrete now.

"Six…" Exusiai said softly. She laid a hand on his shoulder. "It's not your fault."

Six didn't say anything at first. After a minute he rose back onto his feet and looked her square in the eye. Even if she couldn't see his eyes, she could sense the fury behind the lens.

"Croissant said that April and Suzuran were taken captive by those 'Sicilian' assholes," Six recalled. "You're an intelligence firm, aren't you? Surely you know where their hideout is."

Exusiai nodded. "Of course we do. But we're not in any shape to take on an entire Mafia cell by ourselves. We've got wounded and they've probably got hundreds of goons on their turf."

Six reloaded his riot shotgun and looked over at Leonhardt. "Leonhardt," he called out. "You got medical experience right? Can you handle the civilians without me and fill the ladies in on our discoveries?"

Leonhardt could see where this was going. "Mate, you're just one guy. You'll get torn to pieces by th-"

"Have you already forgotten what they just did? Who they've taken from us?! If I wasn't pissed off before, I sure as hell am now."

And besides, Six privately noted. ED-E's got an ammo workbench installed in his chassis. If they figure out how to use it and the Energy weapons he's carrying…

Six switched out to That Gun and checked its ammo. A full chamber and plenty of ammo for the moment. "I've killed hundreds of thugs and monsters," he said. "Those cosplayers got nothing on me."

"But they've got hostages," Leonhardt retorted. "And the layout of their base. You might as well be walking into a minefield."

Six paused, growling. "But we can't stand around here. Not when they've got your friends and ED-E."

And alien tech.

Exusiai and Leonhardt looked at each other. "I'll go with him," the former offered. "You and Croissant stay here and tend to everybody. Then you get all non-combatants out of town. It's too dangerous for them."

Six gave her a nod of approval. "Lead the way, guardian angel," he said.

---

Nighttime had already crept in on Da Vinci. Though the blackened skies obscured the smoke, a keen eye can still pick out the embers. Six and Exusiai headed to the south of town, sticking to the shadows. While the lad more or less blended in, Exusiai stuck out like a sore thumb with her wings and halo. She cursed these traits under her breath with each step. If the situation weren't dire, Six would've chuckled at all this.

After half an hour of dashing through the streets and back alleys, they found themselves before a series of warehouses on the edge of town. It felt like one of those prewar docks, with cranes, crates, warehouses, and other stuff. There was a ledge where the 'ships' should be, with the wasteland directly below. Exusiai claimed that this was something of a docking station for connecting settlements with one another. For trading and whatnot.

It was all rather unassuming at first, but the guards stuck out more than the angel. Dark gray suits, sunglasses, barreled crossbows. The duo crouched behind a corner and surveyed the entrance. Six felt certain they could fight their way through, but that would raise alarms in a heartbeat.

He spotted a particularly tall gangster among them. Around his height, if his eyes were still any good. A plan was forming in that scattered brain of his and he looked back at Exusiai. He pointed at her and the roof, following up with himself and then the tallest goon. She smirked and nodded, clinging to the outskirts for a way up.

Six quickly dashed to the closest warehouse and threw a rock at the tallest minion. The man snarled and marched over in his direction. Six ducked under some boxes and waited for him to pass over. Once he saw his back Six brought out VATS and targeted the base of his neck with his sniper rifle. The bullet that flew out severed the spine, insta-killing the man. Six dragged the body into a corner and stripped it of all its contents.

Now dining the goon's attire, he threw the body into a dumpster and claimed his crossbow. He had a sense of deja-vu as he adjusted the sunglasses, hat, and scarf. He swore he saw images of a pre-war comic-book hero back home with a similar get-up. What was his name again? The noir-styled vigilante with the Tommygun? Eh, he'll worry about that later. Right now death was coming to visit these assholes.

He gave the warehouses a quick survey. One guard asked him about his business, but he just acted all gruff and told him he was "inspecting security". Took a bit of flexing to get the wise guy to mind his own damn business, but it worked. Where the silver tongue fails, sheer terror prevails. Or starts even more shit. Exusiai waved at him and pointed to her building. Six searched for an entrance and peeked inside.

It appeared to be devoid of guards so he slipped in. The only objects here were containers but he looked around just to be safe. When he finally did deem it as such, he motioned for the angel to hop down. She leaped from the window to a crate and down onto ground level.

"So far so good," Six whispered. "Have you found anything?"

Exusiai shook her head. "Naw, no sign of our friends. But I caught a glimpse of some familiar arms. Seems like some baddies are keeping them as trophies."

Six grinned. "I'll relieve them of their burdens if I get the chance. Any idea where they'd keep people of interest?"

She shrugged. "They could be anywhere. In some containers, in an underground bunker."

"You'd bet on the latter?"

"Hey, we're in a nomadic village, right? It's practically a requirement these days. And shady folk have a thing for them anyway."

Six sighed. "Keep to the skies while I search the grounds."

The girl nodded and climbed back through the window. She's pretty agile for someone of her build. He hoped she didn't have a quicker draw than him. He went back outside and kept an ear out for anything out of the ordinary. The alarm, hushed tones, gunfire, anything. He finally heard something out of place; a small chainsaw revving up.

He rounded a corner to see three mafia thugs toying around with his GRA ripper. He stuck to the shadows, trying to listen in on any conversation they could be having.

"Man, how come you of all people get that thing?" said one.

"Hey, the fact that I even got it should speak volumes," retorted the second. "Boss has been hoarding most of the good stuff for himself ever since we got the drop on the Penguins."

"Isn't he trying to get those laser guns to work or something?" asked the first.

"Laser guns? What are you talking about?" butted In the third goon.

"Shh! Not so loud," hushed the second man. "Boss doesn't want to show his hand yet."

Six had heard enough and revealed himself. "You mean not until he stops scratching his head," he snarked.

The goons drew their weapons at him, but they calmed down after seeing the suit. "Cripe, how long have ya been here?" asked the first.

"Long enough to hear your grips. Is it true? The boss has been keeping all the fun toys for himself?"

"Yeah," confirmed the third. "He's got them locked up in his office."

"Remind me where that is again."

The one wielding the ripper laughed. "Why? Have you forgotten already? Oh, what am I saying, of course you have. All you've got in your head is rocks."

Six walked up to the man that dared to speak out, channeling his inner devil.

"[Terrifying Presence] It'll keep all of your limbs attached, dumbass."

The offender gulped. "Underground. The entrance is at Warehouse 4."

"That where he's keeping the girls too?"

"Maybe the kid. He's got plans for her. The older gal's held up in number 3. A body like hers could fetch a high price up in the Empire of Ursus."

"Who else got the spoils at Pete's?"

"Sandy took an SMG last I checked. Orion got some glowy ax. Apollo's keeping some weird pistol with him while they study the laser stuff together. They'll show them off to anybody they come across, though. Jackasses."

"Seen any metal orbs floating or lying about?"

"Floatin- hell naw. Are you smoking those spices again?"

Six growled, shutting the man up. "Okay, low blow. But seriously, none of us saw any wrecking balls or anything around."

"I see. Thank you for reminding me."

Six kicked the man between his legs, causing him to drop the ripper. Six caught it with one hand and pulled the thug in with the other. In one motion he revved up the handheld chainsaw and tore into the man's abdomen and up out of his shoulder-blade. He nearly split in half as his gore fell onto the ground. His friends lost their lunch at the sight.

"That was for being a smartass. Rat me out and you're next."

He turned his back and back to 'patrolling' the area. He shook the blood off of his reclaimed ripper and sheathed it. One of the guards noticed the red stains on his suit and stopped him.

"Woah there, you okay?"

"[Speech 25] I'm fine," Six lied. "Just fell on my own knife is all. I've patched myself up."

"Well wash those clothes when you have a chance. You'll spook the others."

The Courier ignored his advice and continued onwards. He looked into each of the other warehouses, trying to find his weapons or ED-E. He never found the eyebot in any of them but he did spy Sleepytime in Warehouse 5. Sandy- a fair-skinned Lupo with blond hair- was trying to shoot at some empty bottles with it but he was too far for the spread to hit. Obviously he never used an SMG before.

He jumped at the sight of Six and pointed the gun at him. "Bloody hell, you scared me, Banner. What are you doing here, though? Shouldn't you be-"

Six never gave him the chance to finish. He brought down the ripper on his right arm, severing it and the gun from his person. Sandy screamed and gripped at the bloody stump with his remaining hand. Six then slashed across his throat with the chainsaw, ripping it to shreds.

Six knelt down and retrieved his weapon. He checked the clip to see how much ammo was left. To no surprise, Sandy had completely emptied the clip. Good thing he had some extras, though. As soon as he reloaded it he heard a door swing open. Someone had heard the commotion inside.

He turned to see two swordsmen approaching him, both horrified at the grisly sight before him.

"Gods, Banner, what the fuck!?" exclaimed one.

Six didn't respond. Instead, he started marching toward them like those slasher-film monsters. Both goons were frozen in place. He fired Sleepytime at them before they got the brainpower to run or alert the others. Six then shut the door and dragged the bodies away, into some dark corner or another. Once the bodies were hidden he walked back out and headed for warehouse 3.

There was April, locked in a cage and on her knees. Her hands were chained behind her back while her legs were weighed down by an iron ball. There were guards all over the place, dogs too. Six had the urge to reach for his gun but he refrained himself. He didn't want to risk setting the base on red alert, but the hounds were gonna make that difficult. And right on cue, one of them sniffed the air and barked at him. The guard holding its leash approached him.

"Hold it, Banner," he said with a hand up. "This isn't your assigned post."

"Boss wanted me to inspect the warehouses," Six claimed. "Make sure nobody was slacking off."

The dog was growling at him now. It was then that the guard noticed the blood on him. His eyes went up to the Courier's and seemed to burrow through them. For a moment Six thought that he was reaching out for his very soul. The thug's grasp on the leash loosened and the dog broke free. Six instinctively drew out his Plasma Defender and melted the mongrel before it got to him. Immediately after he realized his mistake and cursed himself.

"We've got a spy here, boys," shouted the guard as he pointed. "Sic 'em!"

Everybody came running at him. Swords, hammers, crossbows, shields, and jaws all lined up to butcher him. A shower of bullets rained down on some of the enemy from above. All eyes looked up to see a certain redhead peeping out of the roof. She waved with a smile.

"Hiya," she said.

"The hell is that bitch?" said a thug.

"It's one of the Penguins!" said another.

While their backs were turned, Six snuck up on a couple of them with Sleepytime. He put them into a dirt nap with a pull of the trigger. The dogs quickly caught onto him but Six was already toggling VATS as the bodies fell. He backed up and reloaded, locking onto their skulls and ripping them to shreds. The remaining one tried to bite him but a well-timed kick stunned it long enough for him to reload and fire again.

The humanoids split off into two teams. Casters and Snipers were trying to bring Exusiai down to Earth- erm, Terra- while the rest focus on Six. The Courier switched to Thump Thump and used it to send clusters of thugs flying away. Most of them were blown to pieces, and those that survived the initial explosions were limping away in agony. The 'Defender' class (as Croissant called them) weathered through the blasts unscathed. Six switched to his riot shotgun and replaced the regular ammo with flechette. That ripped the shields a new one real quick. He swapped the shotgun for his Plasma Defender, burning and melting the shieldguards alive. He used That Gun to put Thump Thump's survivors out of their misery.

A loud boom caught the Courier's attention. He looked to see Exusiai on the ground in a daze. The bowmen and Casters had her surrounded. Six reloaded his guns and hid behind some shipping containers, evaluating the situation with VATS. Not good. She's too close to them for an explosive solution and he didn't want to risk shooting her by accident.

A burst of gunfire put his worries at ease. A cry of"Rock an' roll!" echoed throughout the warehouse as magic bullets tore through the mafia. Some simply dropped dead, others were sliced into bloody gibs. Six drew out Christine's sniper rifle and began taking headshots in the chaos. When the last mook fell, the floor was drenched in blood, gore, and bone.

Six looked back to April. She seemed to be struggling to contain her lunch. Exusiai by comparison was better, merely tiptoeing over the messes and making the occasional gross-out face. Six was more careful than his temporary partner, not wanting to leave a future trail. He looted the bodies while Exusiai shot off the cage's lock. She frowned at the sight of another one on April's chains, but six already found a solution. He brought the key over and removed the lock, freeing April.

"Thank the Eight," she breathed. "I thought I'd be some General's maid back there."

"You okay?" Six asked. "Nothing broken?"

April shook her head. "Naw. They wanted me intact and unsullied for any… potential grooms." she shuddered. "I don't know whether to be thankful for their business mindset or horrified."

Six had another surprise for them, drawing out her bow. "Found this on one of the archers. Seems like he kept it as a trophy."

Six tossed the weapon and some ammo to her. She inspected it for wear and was pleased to find none. She sheathed it and smiled at the Courier. "If you weren't covered in blood right about now, I'd hug ya."

Six looked at his disguise with a frown. No way he could sneak around the base with this much red and gunk. He considered replacing it with one from his recent victims, but they were ruined beyond salvage or washing. And he didn't have the time to stitch together a new one either. He went behind a shipping container and changed into his Elite Riot Gear.

"So much for going quiet, huh," Exusiai noted.

"I still have an ace or two up my sleeve if the need arises. But from here on out, it's just old-fashioned spec-ops."

Six opened up the door ever so slightly. To his disappointment there were some guards just outside, heading right towards him. He signaled the girls to hide and they scattered. The goons entered the scene of the crime and were rather stunned by the scene. Six struck first, gunning one of them down with Sleepytime. April fired at another with a volley of arrows while Exusiai fired at all of them. They dropped dead before they could alert anyone.

Six risked peeking his head out again and was relieved to find no other guards. The trio slipped into the shadows and marched towards warehouse 4. April took point and peered inside for them. One by one they slipped in, each taking a gander before entering. A quick sweep of the area revealed no guards present. That moment of peace could be broken any second, though, so they went to work on finding an entrance ASAP.

Exusiai found a lever hidden in a fake barrel. Without a second thought, she pulled it and she heard something hiss and shift behind her. She turned to see some floorboards sliding out of existence and the Courier nearly falling into some hole. He managed to hop onto solid ground in the nick of time and looked down at the opening. It was rather dark.

Six was the first one to go, activating his Pip-Boy's internal lights before climbing down the ladder. The tunnel was rather narrow and minimal, with nothing but concrete walls. Rather dull in comparison to Pete's. The girls reached the bottom soon after him and huddled behind the Courier. Six took the lead with his light, That Gun in one hand and Chance's Knife in the other.

The walls soon gave way to cold iron and rivets. Burnt-out circuit boxes and pipes were lined up against the wall, with the occasional sliding door. Rust and dirt were collecting everywhere, implying that they hadn't been in use for years. The lack of tracks seemed to confirm this. For some reason, he was getting a sense of deja vu about all of this.

Six spotted something green in the corner of his eyes. He pressed up against a wall and peeked into a room. There were a number of plants in the chamber ahead. They were all healthy, despite the lack of sunlight down here. He saw no lamps or heaters nearby, though. How did they get so-

The green vanished. All that was there was debris and darkness. Six blinked. Was he imagining it?

The journey crept on for roughly five more minutes before there was a change in scenery. And it wasn't what he was expecting. The chamber was massive, probably about twice the size of a hanger back at Nellis Air Force Base. It looked like an underground highway from where he was standing. Exusiai whistled at the sight.

"Damn," she said. "I didn't think we'd get this deep into the town."

"Where are we?" Six asked.

"The foundation level. The guts of the village's mobile platform," Exusiai explained. "Or at least the one carrying the warehouse district."

"One? These settlements are made of multiples?"

"Some of them are. This must be from the early days of the village's construction. Probably where building materials were moved and stored during assembly."

Six looked at several supply crates nearby. Something told him those weren't for construction, though.

"Could hide anything down here," Exusiai continued. "It'll probably take ages to find a lead on our friends."

Six cursed under his breath. He walked around the chamber, trying to find signs or footprints or anything else that'd point them in any direction. Then he heard a beeping sound. He looked around for a source but didn't find anything. April gave him a concerned look.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"That beeping sound."

The bunny-eared girl looked around the room and shook her head. "Are you sure you're hearing anything?"

Six brought up his Pip-boy and looked at the Radio tab. There was a lone frequency on the display. It sounded like one of those prewar distress beacons. But he didn't bring any with him, did h-

Six froze. "ED-E," he realized.

Six began fiddling around with the Pip-Boy, trying to lock onto the signal. A waypoint had been set up on his HUD, pointing towards the east. He motioned for the ladies to follow him. The trio found a corridor and walked into another metallic hallway. The room was drenched in a crimson light as alarms blurred. Six cursed again. The mafia must be onto them now.

His fears were confirmed when several men with crossbows came storming towards them. April conjured up a smokescreen for them while Exusiai and Six ducked. Gunfire ripped through the clouds and into the goons. A swordsman charged forth, carrying a miniature shield. It was sturdy enough to withstand bullets, but it melted after receiving a Plasma bolt. The man screamed a curse as it burnt his arm. The gunners took advantage of this to finish him.

April took the front while the angel and Courier reloaded their firearms. Two more swordsmen moved up but they lacked shields of their own. They took arrows to the kneecaps, and then in their brains. Exusiai switched places with her, charging up her bullets with Arts as the fallen were replaced. One goon exploded into gibs while another burst into flames. Six tore up the kneecaps of another with his shotgun with two shells and his head with a single blast.

It descended into a literal bloodbath. The trio was already leaving crimson footprints in their wake. The further they ventured into the crowded hall, the faster and more frantic the signal sounded off. Every now and then Six could've sworn he saw the pools of blood rise. At one point it even seemed to be at his knees' level. At last, they came across a massive garage, filled to the brim with scrap metal and vehicles. And it was already occupied.

There was a man with a strange tail standing over a workbench. It appeared to be feline but there was a brush of fur at the end. Six had seen that kind of appendage in old zoo advertisements. They belonged to an extinct creature called "lions". Croissant called these people 'Aslan' if he recalled correctly. And standing next to him and the workbench was the Protonic inversal axe.

Six softly hushed at Exusiai and April, motioning for them to stay just outside the doorway. They both nodded and crouched at opposite sides as Six snuck in. The Aslan- Orion if Six were a betting man- was tinkering with the inert chassis of ED-E. The Eyebot had already been partially dismantled, his internal workbenches exposed. There was more wear and tear on them than he had ever seen. A short glance to his right revealed why.

On a small stand lay some energy cells, Microfusion cells, satchel changes, and flamer fuel. ED-E would normally give each of those once a day, but these guys were overclocking him. Six snarled and bore his teeth under his breath. The lion-man must've heard him because his cat ears perked up and he spun around. Six lunged at him but Orion threw him back.

The Courier crashed into a car, smashing a window and setting off a car alarm. He barely had time to dodge a vertical slash from the thug and duck under a horizontal one afterward. An arrow embedded itself into his suit and he turned to see April near the entrance. She was flinging every arrow she had at the Aslan and he didn't even flinch. Six struck out with Chance's Knife and managed to impale it into him. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to yank it back out.

Orion batted Six aside and charged at April. She vanished in a cloud of smoke as the axe came down upon her position. Six took out Christine's sniper rifle and toggled VATS. The Cautus was hiding behind a van while the man searched for her in the cloud. Six switched the system off until the smokescreen dissipated and he could get a better shot. The Courier targeted the man's left arm, crippling it.

Orion howled as it went limp, struggling to hold the protonic axe. He snarled at Six and charged at him with a spin attack. Six rolled under the sloppy display of power and took out That Gun, crippling his other arm with it. The man dropped the axe and ran back to the workbench. Six tackled him and brought out his ripper, slamming it into his chest. The man gurgled as his insides were torn up by the miniature chainsaw. Once he stopped struggling, Six reached down for Chance's Knife, finally tearing it free from the Aslan's flesh.

Orion wasn't down yet. He grabbed Six by the throat and pinned him down on the concrete floor. Six attempted to break free but he couldn't. The bastard had a bear-like grip on him. He couldn't even reach for his weapons. He didn't need to as an arrow pierce the back of his thick skull, finally ending his life. Six heaved the fresh corpse off of him and revved up his ripper, letting it shred through the body and out toward freedom. He sheathed it and went to reclaim the protonic inversal axe.

With the push of a button, the axe's handle partially collapsed in on itself. Now the length of a pickaxe, Six holstered the weapon onto a latch on his belt. While Six was inspecting the body for loot, Exusiai was examining the automobiles and motorcycles in the garage. She whistled at the sight.

"Have to admit, they have a sense of style," she said.

Six wasn't paying any attention to her. He was more concerned with ED-E and his captor. The Courier found a set of keys on Orion's person, plus some LMD and energy cells. Six went to the workbench and examined the ammo the bastard produced. It all was of average quality, nothing in bulk or overcharged. Six collected the ammo and went over to ED-E, inspecting his inventory.

The most valuable pieces- some Power Armor and the Stealth suit MK II- hadn't been reassembled yet. Some of the weapons he hid were gone, though. The Q-35 matter modulator, a Multiplas rifle, the Holorifle, the YCS/186, the AER14 prototype, an Arcwelder, the Sprtel-Wood 9700, and some extra laser and Plasma weapons were absent. Cleansing Flame, Annabelle, Red Glare, an SMMG, a 25mm grenade APW, Paladin Toaster, Two-Step Goodbye, Gehenna, Blade of the West, All-American, Medicine Stick, Lucky, a silenced .22 pistol, a Ranger Sequoia, Blood-Nap, Gehenna, Oh Baby, and the Embrace of the Mantis King remained. Some Stealth Boys and chems he stashed away were also missing.

Six pocketed the .22 and closed the compartment up, then drew out a robot repair kit. He can reclaim his Energy Weapons later. Right now he had to fix his companion. The Courier bent over the Eyebot and went to work.

"Don't worry buddy," Six whispered. "I'll have you patched up in no time."

He spent the next few minutes repairing the eyebot while April scouted the area some more. Exusiai remained with Six to watch over him. She couldn't help but notice how gentle he was with the robot. How he tended to it like a living creature rather than a machine. It certainly didn't behave like one the few times she interacted with it. Maybe it's the closest thing he had to a friend? He wouldn't be the first person she knew to dot over their machines.

ED-E's turbines roared to life and he leapt into the air. The robot emitted a series of chirps and beeps at the two humans, yet only Six seemed to understand it.

"I know," Six jested. "This is getting old. How are you feeling? Can you tell me what happened?"

ED-E emitted a series of somber notes.

"They attacked the base shortly after I left huh," Six translated. "They must've been watching us for some time."

ED-E agreed, then emitted an inquisitive tone. Six frowned under his helm.

"No, they trashed the whole place and the surrounding area. A lot of innocent people died in the attack. They've nabbed that kid with all the tails too. I intend on making them pay. Think you can help us find her?"

ED-E chirped and bounced around in agreement. Six smiled as the Eyebot played its leitmotif and charged out of the garage. It sped past April and down a hall. Naturally, it drew the attention of some mafia thugs and they charged at it. The Duraframe lived up to its name and weathered bolts, arrows, and blades. All of the offenders were reduced to dust. Exusiai's jaw dropped at the carnage.

"Wow," she said. "Those are some serious Arts."

"That's one way to put it," Six said as he walked by her.

Six took the frontlines with Sleepytime, gunning down some brawlers looking to introduce their fists to their faces. Shieldbearers came to the forefront to protect their brethren, absorbing bullets and laser fire. Six was forced to use Thump Thump again to open up a pathway for them, praying that the ceiling didn't give way to the explosions.

The four fought their way to another junction, splitting off into three paths. There wasn't any sign or map to guide them, though. The three organics looked at one another.

"Split up?" April suggested.

Exusiai shook her head. "Nah ah," she retorted. "They'd pick us off one by one. And even if we stayed together, those corridors look more cramped than the last ones. We'd be sitting ducks."

"So why not sneak our way through? We don't really need to fight anyone. Aren't you supposed to be an expert in that field anyway?"

Exusiai pointed to the lightbulbs that were her wings and halo. April gave her a face that said 'So what?' in retort. Exusiai just looked at her in disbelief.

Six placed a hand on his chin. April did have a point. They were wasting ammo shooting their way through and he was the only one with decent melee experience. He turned to ED-E for a suggestion. The robot only bleeped out a confused tone, just as stumped as they are. Six reached into his pouch for a solution.

A couple of items caught his eye; flashbangs and Stealth Boys. He remembered the Brotherhood's motto with technology and the state of this world. But he reminded himself that the latter burnt itself out after a while. The other half of his brain reminded him of the psychological dangers, though. Exusiai was already plenty dangerous with her guns. Throwing a Stealth Boy at her would be a very bad idea. And April already had her smokescreen anyway.

Six tossed two flashbangs to the ladies. "These could help in a bind," Six suggested.

April gave him a nod of approval. "Nice," she said. "Been wanting to give these guys a taste of their own medicine."

Six motioned for ED-E to follow him down a corridor and into another hall. Both girls looked at one another with mixed expressions before splitting off. Six strapped a Stealth Boy onto his other wrist when he put enough distance between himself and his allies. He heard rumors of a canvas-styled variant but he had yet to find any himself. He didn't mind too much, though. Freed up his belt for actual weapons and his trusty Vault 13 canteen.

The lights went off while they were walking. Six smirked and merely flipped on night vision. The world took on a crimson tint as the darkness fled from sight. His HUD was picking up some red marks to his sides at a t-junction. Probably some fools looking to ambush him. Six decided to turn the tables by rolling a frag grenade at the chokepoint. As soon as it went off he heard some men scream and caught red splashes in the explosion.

Six charged forth into the smoke with his riot shotgun, firing Dragon's Breath at the surviving gangsters. Their bodies lit up the hall as the flames consumed them, screams echoing and reverberating. When the last of them kicked the bucket, Six took the left hall and resumed his journey. At the end of it was another garage, judging from the large sliding door before him. There wasn't a lock to pick but there was a console. Six walked over to it and examined it.

There was some damage to the outer casing and some shrapnel in the exposed gaps. It must've been damaged by his grenade. Six pushed some buttons to see if anything worked but nope. Nothing. Six peeled away at the casing some more and noticed some wires. They were sliced apart but he could tie them back together.

[Repair 50] It took some finesse and patience, but he managed to rewire the console. Six swapped his ammo around as the door slid open and hugged a corner. Light poured out onto the hall and a young man with brown hair, blue eyes, and wings on his back walked out. The last bits weren't holographic like Exusiai's though. They were flesh and bone, with feathers even. One of Fiammetta and Hoover's people, perhaps? He was also carrying a familiar blue recharger pistol.

"Ya got him?" Said the Liberi in a Bostonian accent. "Ya finally g- hello? Where da frickin' hell is everybody?"

Six drew out Sleepytime and opened fire. The wings absorbed most of the bullets, with one of them snapping off from all the damage. The man screamed in pain and grasped where the missing appendage used to be. He spun around and fired the MF Hyperbreeder Alpha wildly, each shot leaving behind a brief glowing trail.

[Luck 3/5] One laser hit the chestplate of Six's armor and slashed light against his body. He cursed his luck for the millionth time.

The man- Apollo if he were to guess - caught a glimpse of the Courier and fired again. Six weathered the laser barrage until the battery ran dry. The Liberi cursed his own luck and backed up. Six lunged at him with his Ripper. Apollo attempted to parry him but he got his arm severed for it. His head was the next thing to fly off.

Six retrieved the recharger pistol from his latest victim and holstered it. That left Graham's old sidearm and his missing energy weapons. All of which were under the leader's watchful eye. The Courier gave the garage a brief inspection and came across some salvage. These could come in handy down the line.

Six then left the room and went down the other hall, crocheting as he left the light. Red Scare came back online and he peered through the dark veil. He wouldn't pick up any movement for the next two minutes. He spent most of that time searching each and every room he happened across. Some closets here, some break rooms there, a couple of restrooms here and there. He even ran into some barracks down here. Nobody living in those but dust bunnies.

At last, he came across something he hadn't expected; a decontamination chamber. A series of sprinklers along concrete walls with steel doors at each end. Six looked at a sign next to the entrance and was even more confused; 'Laboratory'? Why the hell would a lab be under some warehouses? Was it used during construction or afterward? What could they be using it for now? Drugs?

Six hesitated to step inside. Already memories of the ambush back at Pluto's- back at Earth- were flooding back to him. Lily was by his side again and there were windows at each side of the chamber. The one on his left was filled with raiders, including Jigsaw. For some reason, his Power Armor was set ablaze, with dark crystals bursting out of it.

The other window had a bunch of Vault dwellers inside. Some of them were ghouls, others smoothskins covered in vines. They were all banging their fists on the glass, screaming and begging for help. The raiders were cheering as the other side was flooded with a crimson fluid. The dwellers tried to hold their breaths but they failed. They all drowned in the red tides.

Six shook his head again. The chamber was empty and barren once more. He blinked. Why was he having all of those visions? He wasn't tripping on Party Time or Jet again, was he? No, he hadn't touched those kinda chems in weeks, maybe even a couple of months. Any addictions he had to them were also cured ages ago. Was it an after-effect from the Stealth Boys back in Pluto? Possibly…

Six finally mustered the courage to step inside. To his relief, the system didn't come online. If anything the sprinklers appeared to be in disrepair. The steel door on the other side remained closed, with a red button next to it. There was a speaker as well. Something told him that the button alone wasn't going to be enough. And his HUD was displaying movement just behind it.

"ED-E, fall back to one of the rooms we passed by and keep your chassis down. I'm gonna see if I can get that door open."

ED-E chimed a concerned beep but complied as ordered. Once the robot was hidden, Six pressed the button and a voice popped up from the speaker.

"What the fuck do you want, welp? Can't you see that I'm busy?"

Six didn't say anything. He was trying to conjure up an excuse but his mind was grasping straws. He glanced down at his Stealth Boy as he held the button. The man on the other side was growing impatient.

"Hello? Hello! Is anybody fuckin' there? Respond!"

Still nothing.

"...that's it, I'm sending somebody down. If that's you goofing off again Loki, I'll have your ass hanging over my fireplace!"

Steam was slithering from the steel barrier. He heard gears groaning to life and instinctively flipped the Stealth Boy on. He took some steps back as the door lifted upwards and a man stepped out. The canine ears and tail indicated that he was yet another Lupo. He looked at the speaker and did a double-take. He began sniffing the air and searched the area, slowly approaching Six. The Courier was about to pull the trigger of his Plasma Defender before some music sounded off.

ED-E's leitmotif. The mafia thug ran off to the source of the sound and disappeared into a room. Six saw some blue flashes and ED-E flew out from his hiding spot. Nobody followed him out. Six smiled.

"Nice," Six said. "Let's head in before they notice he's AWOL."

The duo slipped into the lab and flipped a switch on the other side of the hall. The entrance door crept back down and the two darted behind some barrels. Six peeped over one to see an array of massive vats and machinery, the kind you'd expect from a factory or refinery. Six's nostrils were assaulted by a foul smell. It smelt like Bramin dung. Were they using it as fuel or-?

Six noticed some platforms above them. He climbed up a ladder and poked his invisible head out. There were some guys in hazmat suits working at several chemstations. He climbed onto the platform and crept by each one of the workers. There was a pungent scent coming from the miniature labs. It reminded him of Jack and Diane's workshop at Red Rock.

There were boxes and bins filled with all sorts of stuff. Fertilizer, plastic, detergent, acid, circuit boards, morphine, antiseptic, whiskey, adrenaline shots. There were also crates of various flora and fungi, each one with a label. Some of them he recognized; carrots, Prosopis glandulosa, Yucca baccata, Opuntia basilaris, corn, silt beans, even something resembling cave fungus and mutfruit. He had never seen the rest before, though. Flammulina velutipes, Iresine herbstii, Parthenocissus quinquefolia, Gyromitra esculenta. Something told him that most of these weren't local produce.

Some guards were pushing carts full of supplies out of a room nearby. Six tapped into his radio and brought up ED-E's frequency. "ED-E, keep to the shadows down there and try to explore the lower level. I'll take the high roads."

ED-E beeped in acknowledgment and cut off the transmission. He saw the robot hover behind a giant vat and proceeded to sneak past the hazmats. Six's nose picked up more smells, even tastes. Whatever they were cooking, it was potent. A stray shot could ignite the whole area if he wasn't careful.

The Courier found himself in some storage room. Piles upon piles of crates and boxes littered the room. There was an elevator at the back end, no doubt where the cargo was brought. There was another exit nearby, leading back to the laboratory. Six went through and found himself surrounded by more workers. Six could make out a large circular window at the far back, with some stairways at the corners. It kinda reminded him of-

The laboratory vanished and gave way to a Vault's atrium. It was rusted and decayed, crumbling apart. There were splashes of green goop everywhere, with strange flora growing out of them. Feral Ghouls with fungi growing on their bodies patrolled the area, ready to bite and tear at anything that moved. And standing in the window of the Overseer's office was-

Six shook off the vision just in time to avoid bumping into a hazmat. He blinked and crawled as far away from the worker as possible. He looked back at the floor level. The former had guards roaming about, some of them in what appeared to be combat armor. Mercenaries?

He looked back at the window to see two men behind it. One of them appeared to be in a brown suit, jacket, and fedora. He wasn't wearing a trenchcoat like the local mafia, though, and seemed more portly than the gangsters he fought. It was when he turned around that he saw all the badges on him. This must be the mayor, Sanna.

The other man had a cigar in his mouth and had a more padded trench coat. It was hard to tell from his position, but Six could've sworn one of his hands was silver. Chrome. Six could make out black horns protruding through his fedora, but it was difficult to tell what race he was from here. There was a crossbow strapped to his back, and two pistols holstered on each leg. Even from a distance, he recognized the grip of A Light Shining in Darkness. That had to be the head honcho of the local gang.

Light began to flicker around in Six's eyes. Shit, not now! he thought.

He leaped over a railing and rolled behind some vats. The Stealth Boy burned out as soon as he hit the floor. He pocketed the ruined device and took out his silenced .22 pistol. He peeked his head out slightly to see a mafia guard nearby. He hadn't noticed him yet. Six waited for him to pass by then dashed behind some new cover. He repeated the process until he reached the end of the lab. ED-E was already waiting for him behind some crates.

"Had any trouble buddy?" Six whispered.

ED-E emitted a beep.

"Good. The fewer distractions, the better. Now come on, we got some loot to reclaim. And maybe a damsel in distress if we're lucky."

The two of them made their trek across the steps. Six left behind a couple of satchel charges on the way up. Just in case any goon decided to come this way or if the alarms went off. As they neared the top of the stairway they heard voices. One of them had a hint of an Italian accent, another akin to someone from Boston. What surprised him was the presence of a third voice. A young, girly voice.

Six held up his hand as they found a doorway. Six crept to the side and peeked over the edge. The room ahead wasn't like any office he had seen before. Not befitting of a mayor or an Overseer. No, it seemed like a grease monkey's workshop rather than an office. The closest thing to even belonging in such an environment was a wooden desk. Everywhere else were workbenches and junk.

Lined up along the walls were most of his missing energy weapons. On the desk lay some of his missing chem stash. Slasher, Psycho, Mentats, Buffout, Med-X. But what shocked him was the small figure at one of the workbenches. There- standing on a small stool- was Suzuran. Before her was the AER14 prototype, while her staff hung on the opposite wall.

Sanna and the don were standing by the desk, helping themselves to Mentats. Six could see the cranberry stains on their lips and their tails swishing about behind them. Sanna's was a Feline's tail while the mafia leader's resembled a devil's. The latter also possessed what appeared to be a mechanical arm.

The mayor walked over to Suzuran with a nervous look on his face.

"So… um, any progress on your research?" Mayor Sanna asked.

The girl shook her head. "No," she said. "I don't sense any Originium in these machines or their power cells. I don't need to be a technician to see that."

"For once I agree with the brat," the Sarkaz don said. "I've been shootin' for years and I haven't felt anything in my prize either."

He drew A Light Shining in Darkness from one of his holsters and examined it. "Eggheads in the lab can't make heads or tails of the propellant. Whatever it is, it's something new."

The man took a puff from his cigar. "Guns that don't need Arts training, guns that can disintegrate or melt people… damn thing sounds like some B-rate sci-fi film. But just think of what we can do with them, though. We can storm the capital and take down the other clans. Or hell, start a black market for these babies and make a shitload of soldi. This could be the breakthrough the Diavoli Neri's been looking for."

"What about that Caster? The original owner of the arms?" Sanna asked.

"Buried. Sent him out after your old rival's gang."

The mayor's face morphed into a dark smile. "Always good to see those diseased dogs bite the dust. Speaking of which..."

He looked back at Suzuran with a judgmental look on his face. "What about her? You know she's a biohazard to us all."

"To you, maybe. But to me she's bait."

"Bait? Oh, don't tell me you're still chasing ghosts. She's dead, Aelius. Has been for years. How about you dispose of the sick hound and-"

Aelius drew the other pistol- something resembling a Colt 6520- and fired it at Sanna's chest cavity. The bullet burrowed into him and burst into flames. The man screamed as his insides were cooked and collapsed onto the ground. Suzuran yelped and spun around as she saw the mayor's body collapse onto the floor. Steam slithered out of the fresh corpse's throat as Aelius twirled his pistol and holstered it.

"Oh she'll be a ghost when she gets here," Aelius said. "A real mother would come running to her daughter's aid. And until she does, we're keeping the wretch alive. After that… well, anything's possible."

Six looked back at ED-E. This guy must have some Arts training if he can cook someone on the inside like that. Six reexamined the room ahead and considered his options. The Sarkaz already had one of his Stealth Boys strapped onto his wrist. While ED-E could technically pick him up on his motion tracker, Six couldn't hit him with VATS. He'd had to rely on his own eyes to catch him. Six drew out his .22 pistol and peeped out from his hiding spot, taking aim.

[Luck 3/8] An explosion went off downstairs and shook the floor. The Courier dropped his gun and stumbled into the office.

"My leg!" someone screamed. "My fucking leg!"

The don turned around as the goon's screams bounced around the lab. He cursed under his breath as he saw the Courier.

"You!?" Aelius said. "You've gotta be shittin' me!"

Aelius made a dash for the laser RCW while Six went after his pistol. Midcharge Six activated his GRX Implant, injecting his body with a small dose of Turbo. It only lasted for a few seconds, but it gave him the speed boost he needed to retaliate. Both of them showered one another with their respective ammo, neither man showing any sign of slowing down. When Aelius's energy cell ran dry, Six decided to go for a direct approach.

Six drew out his ripper and charged at the man. To his surprise, the gangster caught the weapon midswing. The robotic hand held the weapon by the teeth yet it withstood their onslaught. He yanked it from the Courier's grip and delivered a punch to the gut with his fleshy fist. He shoved Six against the glass window and started pummeling the living hell out of him.

The window was cracking now. A few more hits and Six might fall through. The don reeled back his metal fist for another punch when a green beam hit him in the back. He let out a small cry as the heat seeped through his armor and into his skin. He twisted his head to see Suzuran firing the prototype laser rifle at him. That gave Six the chance to free himself and draw out his shotgun. One shot sent the bastard flying through the glass and onto the floor below.

Despite the glass embedded into his suit, it didn't appear to draw any actual blood. Aelius growled and jammed some Psycho into his organic arm and activated the Stealth Boy.

"That fucking cowboy's in the lab!" the man screeched on the intercom. "Get your fat asses down here and maim the little piece of shit!"

Six's eyes twitched at a particular word. "'Cowboy'?" Six sneered. "Did he just call me a fucking 'cowboy'? I'll have you louts know that-"

A bolt whizzed past his head and impaled the wall behind him. He ducked in time to avoid a volley of them. Suzuran was already ahead of him, crawling on the ground and reclaiming her antenna. Some of the stolen energy weapons were being knocked onto the floor in the chaos. Six went to work on grabbing them all before crawling to ED-E. His back was straining from all the weight he was forcing onto himself but he endured long enough to reach the Eyebot. Six then placed all of the reclaimed loot into ED-E's storage. Suzuran ran to his side while he was busy, handing him the Prototype.

"You alright kid?" Six asked.

"I'm fine," she replied. "This isn't my first firefight."

"I figured as much. That thing's battery still good or are we gonna need to find a new one?"

Suzuran pouted at the Courier's mention of a 'battery'. She was about to say something when they heard footsteps just outside. Six's HUD was picking up movement outside. ED-E's Tesla cannon sounded off and he heard some people scream. Six ran outside to see some Mafia swordsmen charging at them. They stood little chance against the Eyebot and Six's riot shotgun.

Snipers rained down bolts on them from the catwalks above. Six switched to Thump Thump and fired a grenade at the offenders. The bombs ignited all of the chemicals up at the makeshift labs and started a colorful chain reaction. Bodies flew from the ledges as the walkways were cloaked in fire and smoke. Six fired at the other ledge for similar results. He grinned.

Something wrapped itself around him and pulled him forward. Six let out a yelp as he was dragged before two goons. One of them had a dart rope around the hero. The other had a shield and brought it down on his chest. That knocked the wind out of him. He tried to stop the next strike but he nearly got his arms crippled for his efforts. Another gangster was drawing out a knife as he walked towards him. He didn't like the grin on his face.

He was already reaching for his own as the man got closer and was punished for it with another bash at his ribs. Just as the bastard reached him, though, he was hit with a blue laser. When he turned around to face the offender, he turned to dust. The first two goons jumped at the sight of ED-E flying towards them. Six managed to cut the rope binding him and stabbed his captor in the knee, nearly severing it.

The man cried out in pain and reached for the wound. Six took advantage of this and stabbed into his throat next. He drowned in his own blood while the shieldbearer stomped over his body. Six took out his Plasma Defender and lobbed glowing goo at his armor. He dissolved after a few hits. Huffing and puffing, Six took out a box of Mentats and popped a tablet into his mouth. His brain and senses were overlocking themselves right now, trying to find Aelius in the chaos.

Another asshole tried to reel him in with a rope. This time he saw the attack coming and dodged it. He grabbed it and pulled the offending party to himself, firing his Plasma Defender. The gangster's chest cavity melted on impact. He took the time to insert a fresh Microfusion Cell while he had the chance.

Something tackled Six to the ground and a knife flickered into existence. He grabbed it just in time to keep digging into his neck. A coarse laugh echoed as Six struggled to keep it away. He kicked at the invisible figure but he just shrugged them all off.

"You have any idea who you fucking with, cowboy?" taunted Aelius. "Do you really understand the gravity of your situation? You think that I make all the calls around here? I'm just one of several heads of a fucking hydra. Cut me down and someone else will take my place. All the other heads are reaching out across Terra. Our eyes and ears are everywhere, bitch. And once get a scent of our prey, we ain't gonna stop till-"

Aelius let out a high-pitched scream as Six's foot finally found his prized jewels. Six finally broke free and let Chance's Knife fly like crazy. Slashing, stabbing, thrusting, twirling. He didn't stop until he finally drew blood from the cloaked bastard. And once he saw red he switched to his riot shotgun. He loaded it up with dragon's breath slugs and fired away. The man screamed as the flames ate away at him.

Unfortunately, it also sent him into a frenzy. He drew out his 10mm pistol and Darkness, dual-wielding them and firing at the Courier. Six had to take cover as Aelius raged on, throwing A Light in Shining Darkness into some corner when he ran outta ammo for it. Six popped out occasionally to fire his AER14 at the raging madman, ducking to reload. Finally, the Stealth Boy wore off and Six could use VATS on him. Swapping out his riot shotgun and switching to magnum rounds, Six focused VATS on the robotic arm, shooting it off of him. The man cursed as it dropped to the floor.

Six ran to retrieve his final trophy, reloading it and firing at the bastard. He didn't stop until all of his fleshy limbs were crippled. He dropped his Originium pistol as he collapsed, allowing the Courier to kick it away from him. He cursed as he stared at the Courier, his blood pooling underneath him.

"Heh," he said in defeat. "You… *cough!* would've made a good Sarkaz."

"But not a good mobster," Six sneered. "I'm not some cowardly parasite you. I'm not some petty bully that hides in back alleys. And sure as hell not some kidnapping, Saturday morning cartoon villain."

Aelius coughed out a dark laugh. "Hate to break it to you lad, but there's actually strength in the shadows. Going gung-ho like that will just get you buried six feet under. And 'bully'? Please. Most people hardly know their place around here. They need some muscle to remind them."

That was when something unexpected happened. Aelius's suit took on a checkered pattern. His hat and sunglasses vanished to reveal brown hair and eyes. He recognized that face anywhere.

Benny!? Six thought to himself.

Benny smirked at him as he coughed out blood. He still had the horns and tail of Aelius.

"But let me tell you something, baby," he said. "That kiddo ain't as clean as you think she is. You think I'm the devil? Ask her what kinda person her Ma was. Ask her about the family business. You won't like the answer..."

Six's hand was shaking now. The don shifted between himself and a demonic Benny every split second. The world turned red and Six let out a bloodthirsty roar. He emptied an entire clip at the cackling Benny hallucination and switched to Chance's knife to stab away at him. He didn't know how long he was swinging the knife around. All he knew was that Suzuran shouted something at him and he turned to look at her. She had a horrified expression on her face.

Six looked back at Aelius. He couldn't recognize his face now, not what little of it remained. His gibbs lay scattered all around him and he was drenched in his blood. He jumped and sheathed his pistol and knife, stumbling back. For a brief moment, the world flickered between the ruined drug lab and Benny's penthouse. He collapsed onto his knees from the sensory overload. When the world finally stopped spinning, only he and Suzuran remained. Everybody else in the lab was either dead or running for their life.

The fox child had a concerned look on her face. "Are you… okay?" she asked uneasily.

"I am now," Six replied. "I just… saw a ghost back there."

"You want to talk about it?"

Six shook his head. "Not here at least. Maybe somewhere where we won't get peppered with arrows and magic."

Suzuran nodded and walked with him and ED-E out of the lab. No more goons dared to poke their head out as they walked to the crossroads. Suzuran tugged at his sleeve many times during the journey but not once he did acknowledge her. She grew more and more concerned with each step.

Finally, they saw two running cars waiting for them. April sat in the driver's seat of one while Exusiai sat in the other. Both vehicles resemble the Sedans of the Mojave and had guns attached to their hoods. Probably used that 'Arts' stuff like every other firearm here.

Exusiai's eyes shone brighter than her holograms when she saw the Vulpo beside him.

"Our little light and joy!" she shouted.

She hugged the girl and lifted her into the air. Suzuran struggled to breathe in her bear grip. Six had to tap her shoulder to get her to see this. She quickly saw her error and giggled nervously as she sat the kid back down.

"Sorry," Exui said. "She's just so darn fluffy. You got everything back?"

Six flashed A Light Shining In Darkness before her. "You could say that," he said with a smirk "With a dash of justice."

"Sweet! Suzuran, get in with April. Six and the eyeball are with me."

Six nodded and got into the passenger seat. ED-E floated to the backseat as Exui revved up the engine. Both cars sped down the underground road for about a few minutes before they found a way out. They were greeted with the night sky and the stars above. Croissant was waiting for them outside. Leonhardt and the survivors were nowhere to be seen though. They must've sped off to their HQ.

Exusiai rolled down her window and shouted something to Croissant. She briefly engaged in banter with him in their primary language, probably about his efforts. After a minute of talking, she rolled the window back up and looked back at Six. She seemed worried for some reason.

"We need to talk," the angel said in a serious tone.

Six got several ideas as to where this was going. "What's there to talk about? I rescued Suzuran, killed their don-"

"It's about your guns."

Six's jaws locked up.

"I didn't feel any Arts in them. Not in your Shining Light, not in that Glock blaster, none of them. There's no Orignium in any of those bullets, is there?"

Then she flashed an Energy Cell at him. "Or this?"

Six started to stutter. "W-where did you-"

"Nabbed this just after April capped that Aslan. Where did you find the rest?"

[Charisma 4/7] "I'll tell you the same thing I told Croissant; I found all my stuff-"

[FAILED!] "In a wasteland out west. She passed your story onto me earlier today. We have a hard time believing it. 'Experimental weapons'? There'd be bounties for them by now. Heck, I hardly recognize the designs for half of them. And I'm the gun nut among my circle of friends."

"Maybe your company isn't as thorough as they think they are?"

"Or maybe you're hiding something. You know what would happen if anyone caught wind of these, of you? They'd hunt you down to the ends of the world. If anyone like Columbia or Ursus got their hands on them, things are gonna go to hell in a ham basket real fast. Hell, Laterono might-"

She stopped to give herself a breather. Six could've been hallucinating again, but he swore Exusiai's wings lights flickered when she was composing herself. Hell, for a nanosecond they seemed to shift into silver or grey.

"My people run a monopoly on the firearm industry. They aren't gonna like the idea of competitors. If they don't reverse engineer your stuff, they'll just destroy it and their wielder."

She leaned towards him and held out her hand. "I know a place where you can lay low. They can lock your stuff up and hide it from the rest of the world. They-"

"Lock up my guns?! You're asking me to throw away my only means of defending myself! I'm not sure if you noticed, but brute strength ain't exactly my forte. Are you really trying to protect me, or are you just trying to steal the tech all for your-fucking-self?!"

Exusiai didn't take that accusation lightly. She pounced on him and grabbed his coat's collar with furrowed brows. ED-E beeped in alarm and would've fired a laser beam at her right there and then. Six had to hold his hand out to convince him otherwise. Close quarters was not the best place to be firing a tesla cannon.

Instinct was telling him to just take his knife out and shove it into her eye. He pushed it back and tried to look her in the eye. There was a maelstrom of emotions behind them, fear being chief among them. But was it fear for his life, or of him? He gently removed the angel's hands and she backed off. He was about to say something when someone tapped his shoulder. He spun around to see Croissant on the other side of his door. The window was down. When did-?

Croissant grabbed him by the shoulders and brought his helmet to her face. She looked him dead in the eye.

"Six, the world will eat ya alive if you go about this on yer own," the Forte said. "Please. Come with us. With me."

Six just looked back and forth between her and Exusiai. The bull-girl's attire flickered between Brotherhood of Steel power armor and a Fiend's leather attire. Exusiai's outfit flashed between a Scribe's and Ulysses'. Far off into the distance, he could make out mushroom clouds while the Geiger counter was beeping like mad. The earth around the car was tattooed with fresh shadows, yet their casters were nowhere to be found. The ashen marks rose from the dead earth and ascended to the third dimension as shadowy specters. Haunting white lights emerged from their head, forming faces. They were either mournful frowns or gaping screams of horror. They were all muttering a single word.

Why?

[Strength 8] Six broke free from Criossant's grip and threw a Flashbang grenade into the back seat under ED-E. Usually, it was a stupid idea to use grenades in closed spaces, but it wasn't a frag. Plus he had his helmet to shield him from the flashes and loud bangs. ED-E was a robot so it didn't affect him either. Exusiai and Croissant, not so much.

While they were disoriented, Six opened the driver's door and kicked Exusiai out. He locked it back up and rolled the passenger's window. As soon as he plopped himself in the driver's seat, he realized something; He had no idea how to drive a car. So he started fiddling with every switch and pedal until it moved. It backed up into the wall outside, busting open the trunk. He finally found the right pedal and sped off into the distance before anyone could fire on him.

April and Suzuran were startled when they saw Exusiai fly out of the car seat. Even more so when the vehicle drove off without her. It was a miracle that she and Croissant weren't run over. The two ladies left their car to help Exusiai and Croissant back onto their feet.

"What in the world happened back there?" April asked the angel.

Exusiai shook her head as her vision cleared up. For the first time since she enlisted at Rhode Island, she frowned.

"I think we just triggered his fight-or-flight response back there," she confessed.

Chapter 7: City of The Dead

Summary:

Ruins like these are a dime a dozen. Or so it would seem…

Six's Log. October 2nd, 2289. Or uh, 1099, if you ask the locals.

Been a while since I made one of these. So… a lot has happened in the past few days. Some assholes stole that Big MT satellite from the Mojave wasteland and I set out to track it down. I traced its signal to some abandoned mine and… well, this is gonna sound like some crazy shit. I've seen my fair share but this takes the cake. The satellite was hooked up to this creepy-ass obelisk and some Pre-war tech. A firefight ensued between me and the thieves, but the bastards caused a chain reaction, and uh…

I think I got sent to another world. Another dimension or universe? Something along the lines of that. The people here call their home "Terra". Real original, I know. At first, I thought- I hoped- that I was just on some other part of Earth. But I was proven wrong after looking at the stars and constellations in the night sky. How the hell did Raiders build a gateway between fucking dimensions? My best guess is that they didn't.

Before shit hit the fan, I saw their leader speaking into a Pre-war radio. He had connections. Someone who likely had intel on Big MT and the knowledge to operate their tech. I'm one of the few to be privy about the Big Empty and its zany secrets. For someone else to have that kinda intel is… worrying. Big MT already produced some of the worst tech and abominations in the wasteland. The idea that someone wanted to harness any of it is giving me goosebumps.

I don't know who's behind this and I'm hesitant to trust any of the locals around here. From what I hear there's already a great deal of strife around here. There's probably a dozen secret cabals- a dozen Enclaves- slithering in the shadows as I speak. Anybody could be involved in the little conspiracy with the satellite. I don't know what the thieves were hoping to achieve with it, and frankly, it's killing me.

I hate being in the dark, not knowing anything. Being a know-nothing will get you killed back home, and that same rule might damn well apply here. I need to gather intel before I can even consider knocking down any doors. Gunpowder is non-existent here as far as I can tell, and I haven't found any of the main compounds to produce it. The only propellant they have is this weird material. I don't believe in magic, but right now I can't for the life of me decode the science behind it. The locals call it 'Originium', but it might as well be pixie dust. They can use it as gunpowder, for electronics, hell even cast fucking spells. Spells!

I'm out of my element here. If I don't adapt I'm dead. Simple as that. And if I can't go back home, I'm not sure if New Vegas can survive either. It's still a young nation and I was hardly a politician before I left. I'm just-

I'm fucking worried. Scared even. About the Mojave. About the floating brain jars at the Big Empty. About my friends… The only company I have with me is ED-E, and I already came close to losing him a few days ago. And to make matters worse, some of the locals have their eyes on my tech. If any of the local nations or their little Enclaves get their hands on it, they could reverse engineer it and destabilize their world. Maybe even tear itself apart as mine did.

I'm not going to let that happen. Not while I'm breathing.

I'm heading out to this mobile city, "Great Lungmen". Major trading center and my best lead on finding a connection with those thieves back home. A local installed an application that allows me to track the city's position. Yes, 'track'. This city is on fucking wheels. Shouldn't take too long to reach it either way. Just need to sacrifice some sleep time.

This is Courier number Six, signing off...

---

September 30th, 1099. 10 AM.

Rhodes Island headquarters, The Doctor's office.

Rhodes Island is known for being many things. A hospital, a bastion for the Infected, a pharmaceutical company, a private military (or at least, according to some conspiracy theorists). For many, it was just home. For one soul, in particular, it was two; her sanctuary and burden to shoulder.

Within an office sat a young Cautus girl with brown hair and sapphire eyes. Under normal circumstances, someone else claimed this desk as their own. But he was away on a mining expedition in Rim Billiton with some friends of theirs. In the meantime, she has assumed his position and office. Though admittedly most of it consisted of paperwork and cataloging. Not all that different from her own job, actually.

But she was rather lonely. She took a look outside her window at the wasteland beyond. Nobody had a clear-cut answer as to why it was the way it is today. Many blamed over mining and stripping of the land. Some point to the Catastrophes as the main culprit. Many just shrugged and assumed it to be natural. Regardless of its origins, it was the same dusty void she had seen since her birth. And looking at it just amplified her sense of isolation.

The office phone rang. She tilted her head as she read the caller ID on its screen. That number belonged to Penguin Logistics. Why would they be calling now? She pressed a button and a holographic screen popped up above her desk. Within the image were four Operators; April, Exusiai, Croissant, and Suzuran. Leonhardt wasn't anywhere to be seen, though. She was a little worried.

"Oh, hiya Amiya," greeted Exusiai. "Is Leeduh there?"

"Good afternoon, Ms. Exusiai," Amiya replied with a smile. "I'm afraid that the Doctor isn't in today. He's away on a mission right now."

"Would he happen to be near Great Lungmen?" asked the angel. Something about her tone seemed off to the rabbit girl, though. She picked up a hint of desperation in her voice.

"Ms. Exusiai, did something happen today?" Amiya asked.

There was a nervous giggle from her. Amiya had an idea as to what the problem was.

"Did you happen to run across any mafia elements?" She added with a solicitous tone.

The team's camera shifted its focus to Suzuran.

"That's… one of the problems," the younger child confessed. "It's a complicated mess, Ms. Amiya. And a long story…"

---

October 2nd, 1099. 11 AM. Eastern Wastelands.

Six was sitting at a campfire as he closed his audio log. It had been several days since he had left Da Vinci, more so since he arrived in the new world. It was freezing cold right now but he wasn't surprised. He was used to the chills of the desert night and the scorching hot daylights. Annoyances but manageable at least.

He hadn't been on Terra for long and he was already getting homesick. Chowing down on one of Ruby's casseroles and some black coffee certainly didn't improve his mood either. Speaking of his mood, he was rather twitchy. He barely slept for the past few days, trying to put as much distance between Siracusa and himself. He didn't want to get caught by Aelius' gang or Penguin Logistics. What did the former call themselves? Diavoli Neri? The former word brought 'diablo' to mind in his head. Maybe it had a similar meaning or translation to it? He wouldn't be surprised.

He looked down at his rations. A couple of caravan lunches, another casserole, a container of Cook-Cook's stew, a wastelander's omelet, some trail mix, several bottles of water, a couple of thermos of black coffee, his Vault 13 canteen, and several MREs. He was gonna have to conserve as much as possible until he got to Great Lungsmen. Food he can hold off for a while. Clean water, however, was a greater concern for him.

Irradiated water he could handle. Originium-infested water, though... that was another animal entirely if his understanding of Oripathy was correct. It'll be hard to find a water source free of the magical ore in this world's wastes.

Six's eyelids began to droop off some but he fought to keep them up. He looked down at his Pipboy and booted up his STATS. Sleep Depravity was in the 400's. Hunger was at 150. Dehydration at 500. Six quickly gulped down a whole bottle of water when he saw the last statistic. It went down to 350. He sighed. That should be enough for the next couple of days. But he still needed to be at the top of his game. He can't let his guard down.

He looked at the map portion of the Pipboy. He expected it to be blank, considering who designed it. But no, it had already written one up. Or rather, it already had one programmed into it. Six smirked.

Hoover. Six thought to himself. One hell of a perfectionist. Rest in peace, old man.

Now he has a clear layout of the world. Or rather, the continent. Six raised an eyebrow. These people hadn't explored the world beyond yet? Why? What was keeping them on this one? His ancestors had to cross an ocean and wade storms, sure, but they endured. Succeeded. His world had seven continents (Or was it six these days? Antarctica probably melted by now for all he knew).

He shook his head. He can worry about the details later. Right now he needs a real roof over his head. He didn't feel comfortable sleeping out in the open with gangs and magic storms prowling about. His Pipboy was picking up a signal, though. He went to the RADIO tab and selected it. There was a single station; Chernoberg. It sounded like the name of a settlement.

Six clicked on the tab and were met with music. It sounded like an anthem to him or at least something from a parade. What surprised him was the language it was sung in; Russian. Not English or anything vaguely Asian. Russian. A tap on the screen pinpointed it to the north. It was on the border between Lungsmen's turf and some Empire. Yes, the Empire of Ursus.

Six placed a hand on his chin. Was the Empire this world's equivalent to the Soviet Union? From what history books survived the nuclear apocalypse, they were described as a ruthless nation with a history of strife. More vicious than even Caesar's Legion. Croissant's brief exposition on the Empire implied similar patterns and behaviors.

He looked at ED-E, contemplating his next move. If there's a settlement nearby, he can do some trading and restock on supplies. Maybe even gather intel and a faster means of getting to Great Lungsmen. But he'll have to watch what he says up there. The US and Russia fought a Cold War with one another if his history books were telling the truth. A conflict fought through proxy wars and espionage. He'll have to watch his words and his back.

With his mind made up, Six ordered ED-E back into the car and revved up the engine. Just before they sped off, Six took out a holotape and popped it in. It was an album he purchased years ago, from the Commonwealth of Virginia if the trader was telling the truth.

And the first song to play was Dion's The Wanderer.

ED-E began swishing around left and right in the backseat. Six guessed that it was an Eyebot's equivalent to dancing. He wouldn't admit it out loud but it was kinda adorable. His Divide counterpart's personality had been seeping deeper into the primary unit's core for the past few years now. It certainly gave the robot much more personality. Maybe more than its operator right now.

An hour passed before they saw their quarry. To their surprise, it was another mobile city. This one's design was more modern if the buildings' design and height were any indication. Something about it unnerved the Courier though. Something felt off. The buildings looked more worn down than Da Vinci. And there was some giant spike sticking out.

Something burst from the road up ahead. Six barely had time to swerve around it and crashed the car into some rubble. The airbag erupted from the wheel and rammed into Six, shielding him from the impact. Glass slashed against his riot armor and ED-E, shredding the bag to pieces. Six growled and stepped out of the car, with the Eyebot following suit. And they were met with an unpleasant surprise.

Several arthropods- maybe crustaceans?- in a metallic exoskeleton were scuttling towards them. Six drew A Light Shining in Darkness and fired a bullet at one of them. It bounced off the shell without leaving so much as a dent.

"Bulletproof crabs," Six hissed. "I hate this world already."

Six switched to .45 Auto +P and fired again. This time it broke through the armor and earned a hiss from the creature. He smiled and kept on firing. The first one finally collapsed from a hefty overdose of lead. The others noticed this and burrowed underground. Six kept his guard up.

A claw burst from underneath him and grabbed a boot, trying to pull him under. The courier retaliated with bullets, severing the offending claw. The owner popped up not far behind him but was struck by ED-E's zapper. The Metal Crab screeched as the exoskeleton heated up and boiled its wearer. The Eyebot spun around and superheated another that tried to sneak up on them.

Six chuckled. "Looks like they can't take the heat," he said.

More tried to slice through Six's armor but it held up. They were actually lighter than he expected, being easy to kick away. He picked up one and threw it at another, stunning them long enough for him to draw his Plasma Defender. He melted both of them with ease. He kicked at another, causing it to land on its back. He fired into the exposed underbelly with Light until it stopped twitching. He flipped another one over and stomped on it until its guts burst out. He didn't mind the mess that much. He could always wash it off later.

The remaining one- and the largest by far- was nowhere to be seen. Then Six looked back at the car and noticed a hulking mass of iron moving towards it.

"Oi," The Courier shouted. "That's my ri-"

He was too late. The crab rammed a pincer into the engine and the whole thing exploded. The creature and car were both blown to pieces. Six cursed his luck as reached the wreckage.

"Great," Six said sarcastically. "Just fucking great! Now we'll need to find another one."

Six sighed and took some breaths, trying to calm himself down. He looked back at the carcass of the monster responsible. Anger and frustration gave way to curiosity, and he took out his ripper. He began sawing through its armor and tissue, collecting fragments of both groups. ED-E emitted some curious beeps of his own.

Six sighed and looked back at the foreboding city. "Well, here's hoping we find a working car. Or at least the parts to build one. Come on ED-E."

ED-E chirped in acknowledgment and followed the Courier. The two spent the next hour trying to find an entrance. They eventually found something resembling a maintenance hatch and shot it open. A mummified corpse fell with the ladder, nearly hitting the Courier. It spooked the living hell out of him.

Already his brain was dancing on the line between reality and insanity. The organ was switching the body's attire between Bright Brotherhood robes and some maintenance overalls. It lasted for a few seconds before the latter outfit won and brought him back to the real world. Six knelt down and examined it.

[Medicine 60] This person has been dead for at least a year now, judging by the decay. The lack of crystals implied that they weren't Infected with Oripathy. But he did notice some open wounds and old brown stains on their clothes, though. The work of a blade. Someone murdered them.

Six holstered his guns and climbed up the ladder while ED-E hovered upwards. The two found themselves in a damp, dark tunnel. It was narrow and long, like some oversized pipe. Six flashed his Pipboy on to light the area up. Cobwebs and rust were baked into the environment around them. Nobody's been here for ages.

Six and ED-E took their time walking down these tunnels, occasionally stopping to collect scrap metal and electronics. He could always use some more weapon repair kits down the line. True ED-E had a workbench installed but he could only do so much on his own. Speaking of which, he needed to inspect his weapons when he had the chance. Some of them felt more worn than he personally liked lately.

Six's eyes were darting at every corner while ED-E kept constant vigil with his motion tracker. While Six's HUD picked up movement, none of it was marked with red rectangles. So far it seems as though it was hostile-free.

Six's shoulder slumped and he started to stumble. His eyelids were beginning to lose their strength. ED-E emitted a concerned beep.

"I'm fine," Six assured him. "The coffee's just starting to wear off."

Six looked at his Pipboy. "Critical Sleep Deprivation" was listed as one of his active effects. Six growled. Looks like karma was biting back at him after all. He was gonna need to find a place on the surface to rest at. And as luck would have it, there was another ladder nearby.

Six peeked out from under a manhole cover. He was looking at a torn streetway, covered in litter and wreckage. He moved it aside and climbed onto the surface, taking in the atmosphere. It was a ghost town, long abandoned judging from the wear and tear around him. Buildings were crumbling away while dust and garbage were blown away in the wind.

Then there were the skyscrapers. Dead giants impaled with Originium slabs, slowly crumbling away into dust. Some of them appear to be slanted or on the verge of falling over. Some slabs instead chose to burrow into the ground and grow into fucking mountains. They cast a long shadow over the city of Cheronberg and the Courier. His skin was crawling now. This all reeked of the Divide.

Some of the houses had some strange objects around them. Trinkets, rotting flower bouquets, remnants of candles, picture frames. Was this a memorial, or a vigil? He looked inside some of the buildings. He didn't see anybody (or bodies) in any of them. There were some corpses lying around in the street, though. While many of them possessed various animal features, the majority had Yao G- ...bear ears and tails.

Six began trekking along the road, Plasma Defender in hand. He inspected every car he came across, checking to see if each one was in good condition. Most of them weren't, and the very few that appeared fine lacked the keys to run them. He also helped himself to some loot he happened across. Scrap, LMDs. None of the snacks were as preserved as those of his homeworld, though.

He tried to piece together a story as he went about this business. The originum slabs pointed to what Croissant referred to as "Catastrophes". Naturally occurring phenomena that manifested as all sorts of destructive weather patterns. Earthquakes, storms, eruptions, tidal waves. Weren't there a group of couriers dedicated to combating these disasters? Maybe they arrived too late. The lack of police or military fortifications was curious though.

Then he came across a particular region. It had been bombarded with Originium meteorites but that wasn't what was bothering him. The real problem was all the snow and frost here. He had rarely seen any of it back on Earth, but its presence here seemed… unnatural to him. There were even some frozen bonfires from the looks of things. Frozen. Bonfires.He figured Arts could produce energy or manipulate matter but to fuck with physics? That was something beyond his comprehension.

Six approached one of the giant crystals and placed his hand on it. He instantly reeled it back when frost started forming around it.

[Perception 6] The crystals were the coldest parts of the area. They must be the source of the anomaly. Now that he thought about it, some of them had a cyan glow to them. There were some devices attached to some of them too. They gave the crystals the appearance of alters. Six and ED-E both moved out of the area as fast as they could. Both of them happened across another landmark, it too frozen in time.

It was a large building, at least a dozen stories high. Hardly a skyscraper, but large enough to be noticed. There was a symbol carved or burnt into it. An X with some stripes in its gaps. There were some white garbs blowing in the winds, along with various masks. The latter resembled something from some doll. There were all kinds of weapons lying around too. A battle had been fought here.

The duo trekked some more. The next major landmark popped up in the form of a… school? Six took out his travel guide and began translating the text on the sign. It read "Peterheim Middle School." Six had heard of 'high schools' from Doctor Borus. Those were for teenagers, right? Does that mean that this was home to preteens? Or did that only apply to the American education system? He also couldn't help but notice how few originium chunks were in the area. It must've weathered the Catastrophe pretty well. Might be a good place to hunker down for the night.

Six marched towards the entrance. There were more vigils, and they had far more stuff than the last ones. Portraits, picture frames, toys, sports gear, books, even weapons. Six inspected the last group of times, but he left them be. Partially out of respect for the dead and because he considered them to be subpar.

The doors weren't locked. That was a bit of a surprise. Sure the site was abandoned but still… something felt off. Wrong. He could feel it in his guts. Six shoved those thoughts aside and swung the doors wide open.

The first thing to greet him was dust. He had his riot helmet on so it didn't trigger any reaction in his body. But the stench… it wasn't like walking into some centuries-old ruin. It was still raw and fresh. The cold carefully preserved the dead, mummified them.

And most of them were children.

Six's eyes widened as he stepped back. He nearly tumbled down the stairs, but he regained his balance. The Courier spun around and looked back at the city. More bodies. More chil- ...students. Yes, students. They all had matching uniforms and color schemes on their bodies. Some of them were holding weapons. What the hell happened here?

Six looked back at the school interiors. ED-E chirped something of concern at him but he paid the Eyebot no mind. He just stepped in and closed the door. Now he and his only companion were alone with the dead. As much as he hated the scenery, his curiosity was getting the better of him. Something happened down here and he wanted to know what and why.

Six carefully stepped over the bodies, catching glimpses of their wounds. Blunt trauma, stabbing, cuts, strangling, makeshift arrows or bolts impaling them. They were all killed by someone. Some of them were still clenching weapons in their cold dead hands. Weapons with wear and brown stains. Some of their uniforms stood out from the rest, bearing different color schemes and designs.

They were fighting each other. Why? Resources maybe? But they could've just ventured outside for those. Either something kept them from doing so, or there was something worth fighting for here. Revenge? Glory? Some type of treasure? The more he examined the halls and classrooms, the more he noticed the difference in dress code. There were separate tribes or factions of students here. Something or someone forced other tribes into this place.

Then he made his way to the cafeteria. The area was littered with more bodies. But something seemed different. The uniforms seemed more elegant and expensive-looking. Veronica would've probably killed for some of their attire if she were here. Even their weapons had this intricate design to them. They seemed like aristocrats.

Six noticed a large cauldron in the back. It looked like a stereotypical witch's pot, fit for a Halloween party. There was something sticking out of it. The Courier walked over towards it and found a flayed body inside. Like the rest, the cold seemingly preserved it. It was difficult to tell the gender or sex of it, though. It was too mangled for an ID.

A pile of clothes lay neatly folded up on the counter, along with some belongings. Judging from the contents, they were once the janitor. One of the items was a key. Six reached for it and examined it. There was an intricate design on it and a number; 197. Six pocketed the keys.

Someone giggled in the distance. He looked to see a girl with bear ears running off into another room nearby. Maybe the pantries or some other food storage. Six chased after her. Once he caught up she turned to face him. There was something familiar about her. Her red hair, those atomic green eyes. He hadn't seen that face for at least a couple of years. It was his-

He felt a sudden change in temperature. Or rather, he hadn't registered any such thing until now. He dropped the child when she started claws and horns. Her face morphed into a Deathclaw and he started backpedaling. He bumped against something behind him, though. Something swung back at him and knocked him face-first into the ground. When he looked up, he nearly lost his lunch.

There, hanging in front of him, were bodies. Bodies that had been flayed, bodies that had been butchered. Pieces of the dead lay in coolers and boxes, bones exposed and snapped. There was a heart in a jewelry box on a shelf, next to a jar of seven smaller ones. There was even a brain in a salad bowl. An eyeball was partially being cut apart in an egg slicer.

It occurred to him that he was in the meat locker of the school. No, not just a meat locker. A cannibal's personal kitchen. One of the bodies morphed into a familiar face. She was scared, covered in severe burns but he recognized her anywhere.

Joana…

The woman craned her neck towards him. "Where were you, Six?" She hissed. "Where were you when they scorched my Carlitos to the bone?"

She broke free from her noose and landed on all fours like some animal. Six rose back onto his feet as she crawled towards him, ready to pounce. Logic was screaming that she wasn't real, that she couldn't hurt him. But some broken piece of his brain was telling him to run like hell. He ended up taking the latter part's advice and didn't dare to look back. He didn't know how long he was running, or where he was going. All he knew was that he wanted to get away from the meat locker. Away from the horror show. His brain didn't register anything else until he crashed into something. When he looked up he saw a charred door. The plaque on it was covered in ashes, but he quickly whipped it off.

Room 197

Six jammed the key into the lock and swung it open. All he saw were ashes and burnt furniture. At first, it appeared to be a classroom, judging from the chalkboard. But the way the tables were arranged… It looked more like a council than a classroom. There was a scorched flag of a two-headed bird with a star at the center at the other side of the room. He was getting a sense of deja vu for some reason. Must be the two heads.

Six shifted through the ashes for anything useful. Nothing. There were some books around, but all of them were damaged beyond legibility. He noticed a picture frame on the ground, not far from the flag. He reached down and picked it up.

It was heavily damaged, burnt like everything else here. But three faces had been spared from the ancient flames. One of them was a blond-haired girl with her tongue sticking out of her mouth. She seemed rather carefree and spirited. The second one was white-haired and wore glasses. She screamed "bookworm" to the Courier.

The final one-the one that stood out the most- towered the other two faces, and had long pearl-white hair. What was strange about her was that she had heterochromia. One red eye, one blue. What was even stranger was how mature she seemed. She looked more like a fully grown woman than a kid. Her clothes were far sharper than her peers too. Maybe she got held back or something? Or maybe bearfolk age at different rates than regular humans?

[Perception 7] Six felt a cold draft somewhere. He looked to see a burnt bookcase. It seemed rather hollow in comparison to the rest present. Six placed his hand at the edges and felt a breeze coming from it.

[Strength 8] Even in its crispy state, it was surprisingly sturdy. It took some effort to tear it down, but he prevailed. He smiled as he admired his handiwork.

Cybernetics for the win. He thought to himself.

Six inspected the hidden room. It was a tunnel, one scorched to the bone. Crates and empty bottles littered the hall, either burnt or frozen in ice. Six walked down it, noticing the dried blood and graffiti marks. At last, he found himself at a massive warehouse… or what was left of it.

Nothing but ashes and snow was here. The charred skeletons of crates, shelves, and other containers lay in ruin around him. Snowflakes were raining down on him from what little remained of the ceiling. A fire was ignited here a long time ago. Was it an accident or was it on purpose? His foot brushed against something and he looked down to see a candelabra. This must've been the cause.

Something clicked in his mind. This warehouse was large enough to store several weeks' worth of rations. This must've been a major stockpile before the fire. After that- a horrifying implication crawled into his brain. And something else came out.

Gloved hands were clapping behind him. "Bravo, mister Holmes! Bravo!"

Six spun around to see a mustached man in a tuxedo walking toward him. He recognized that asshole anywhere. His dominant hand was shaking.

"Mortimer," Six said. "You can't be here. You're dead!"

Blood and gore started appearing in his suit. Hard to tell if any of it was actually his or his 'dinner'.

"Perhaps," he replied in an indifferent tone. "But that hasn't stopped me from visiting you, has it? Especially when exquisite cuisine is nearby."

Six's fists balled up. "Cuisine?" Six hissed with a scowl. "You call all of this 'cuisine'? It's a fucking massacre! Someone corralled these kids here like Brahmin and forced them to fight one another. Forced them to eat one another! Fucking KIDS! Who the fuck would do this?!"

"Someone with good taste, I imagine."

Six lost his temper and swung a fist at the White Glove ghost. The man let out a dark laugh as the Courier phased through his body and rolled onto the snow-covered floor. He growled as he got back onto his feet and glared at the figure. He drew out his Plasma Defender and fired away until the microfusion cell ran dry. Again no effect. Mortimer cackled.

"And speaking of taste…"

Now his body was beginning to contort and shift. He got down on all fours as his clothes were torn off of his new body. His limbs elongated while he grew a beer gut. His hands became claws and the muscle around his limbs vanished. His teeth became jagged as his eyes and hair dissolved. What remained of his hair was pitch-black and flowed down past his hips.

The creature before him was something out of an old legend out east. A 'Wendigo' if memory serves. It wasn't any surprise that his brain-damaged psyche would associate this abomination with Mortimer and his ilk. Said organ couldn't decide if he was just another hallucination or a legitimate ghost.

Six drew out Chance Knife and took up a stance. The Wendigo struck first, leaping at him. Six swung the knife at him but like before it phased through him. Or rather, the bastard phased through the Courier. And he left an imprint in the form of frost on his armor. Six drew out his Plasma Defender and fired at the specter. Again it phased through him. Six decided to cut his losses and ran like hell. The creature cackled as it gave chase.

"Yes boy, run," Mortimer taunted. "Run back to your little world of science. The eldritch and mystical Arts of the new world will be waiting for you just beyond your steps."

Six sprinted as fast as he could towards the school entrance. But in his haste, he ran over a gap in the floor. Six fell down the dark hole and into an abyss. The last thing he saw before he blacked out was a concrete floor. His skull made first contact with cold stone right afterward.

---

Date: September 30th, 1099

Location: Rhodes Island

Time: Afternoon

A lone shape approaches the docked platform of The Ark. To the ordinary eye, it was just an RV. But anyone with boots on the ground would've seen the pill-shaped logo and the words Pengiubn Logistics embroiled on the side.

Fiammetta and Mostima pulled up onto a ramp at the mobile platform and drove into the hangar bay. Surrounding them were all sorts of ground vehicles. Snowmobiles, motorcycles, humvees, sports cars, pickup trucks. Some of them were sleek and brand new, others seemingly as ancient as the landship itself. Up above them were several dropships, eagerly waiting to be deployed onto some mission or other.

The two ladies hopped out of their ride and began their trek to the bridge. They passed by several Operators and workers, but few registered either lass. Those that did kept their distance. They saw firsthand what the staves on Mostima's back were capable of. And they prayed that they would never see them at their full potential.

The duo reached her destination. Between them and the package's recipient was an office door. The plaque on it read 'Dr. Kal'stit'. Mostima knocked on the door but nobody was responding. It was open, though, so she took a peek inside. There was a Sarkaz man speaking with the doctor. As always she was bearing that perpetual frown of hers. She could learn to at least smile some.

There was a sword slung on the man's back. No surprise, considering his race. Something about that design seemed familiar, though. It resembled a katana and had a crimson vial attached to it. She could've sworn she saw such on a mission with Rhodes Island before.

"Look, the only payment I can offer is my sword arm," the man said. "Send me out into the field and I'll rip your enemies a new one."

"And what about your friends?" Kal'stit asked. "How can they contribute?"

"We're survivors, doctor. We've acquired a number of skills during our time in the wastelands. Need a mechanic or nurse? We've got one. Need a janitor or Messenger? We've got that too. And if that isn't enough, I'll gladly lend my paychecks to them."

"You're willing to forgo payment?"

"We're the only family we've got these days. You understand that, don't you?"

Mostima knocked again. This time the man heard it, yelping and spinning around. He drew out his blade and it instantly coated itself in flames. Fiammetta grew out her grenade pistol, but Mostima grabbed her arm before she could pull the trigger. The two fiery combatants stared each other down for a good thirty seconds before they calmed down and sheathed their weapons.

"And who the bloody hell are you lot?" he asked.

"A simple messenger and her bodyguard," Mostima replied. "I have a package for the good doctor. Is now a bad time to deliver it?'

The man looked at Kal'stit. "We'll finish this discussion later," she told him. "You go get some rest in one of our dormitories."

The man looked back at Mostima, examining her wings and horns with a perplexed look on his face. He's far from the first to give her that look. Once he shut the door, Mostima set the package on the table. Kal'stit looked at the tag on it.

To: Dr. Kal'stit

From: Arnold Hoover

She just stared at it for a few seconds. Before Mostima could ask what was the matter, she opened up the cardboard box. Inside was a metal box. No, a box lined with lead. The Laterans raised an eyebrow. Why would someone cover something in lead of all materials? Opening the box up only raised more questions.

Inside were several more boxes, each with a label; "hardware", "bullets", and "flash drives". There was an additional tag on the first box.

 

Warning! Contents could potentially be radioactive. Examine with extreme caution.

 

Mostima opened the second container and revealed several bullets stuffed inside. Fiammetta convinced Hoover to lend her these samples after that accident with Exusiai. Neither she nor Mostima sensed any Originium in them when they first examined them. From the look on Kal'tsit's face, she didn't either. Mostima couldn't help but notice that Kal'stit seemed to linger with the last bullet. She seemed to be murmuring something under her breath, but she couldn't make out what.

Underneath all of those boxes were a bunch of papers. Notes and photos mainly. Mostima grabbed a picture and saw a metal orb with exposed machinery and wiring. She instantly recognized it as the Courier's robot. Another one showcased his helmet, or rather the assembly process of it. Then there were some of his weapons; an SMG, a sniper rifle, a shotgun, a pistol, a miniature chainsaw, and a two-handed axe were among the items she recognized. The rest were a mystery to her. If anything, the remaining objects looked like props from an old sci-fi flick. Like with Six's bullets, neither Lateran sensed any Originium in 'em.

Kal'stit grabbed the first box and opened it, despite the Messenger's protests. Inside were the pieces of a PDA of some form. Fragments of a brown shell were scattered inside, with circuit boards, gauges, and wires thrown into the mix. There was a panel with some straps attached to it. Mostima recognized this device. It was on the Courier's wrist when she first met him.

Kal'stit picked up a flash drive and plugged it into her laptop. Unfortunately, it was heavily encrypted. She yanked the flash drive out and started repacking everything. Just as she finished, her office phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and pressed a button. A holographic projection of a young Cautus appeared over the table. Mostima was all too familiar with that girl.

Amiya looked at the ladies present and smiled.

"Hello Ms. Mostima and Ms. Fiammetta," Amiya greeted. "Good afternoon, Dr. Kal'stit."

"Long time no see, Amiya," Mostima said. "How have you and the Doctor been?"

"We're fine," the young girl replied. "The Doctor is away on a mission but he's in good hands. Ms. Mostima, does the name "Six" ring a bell to you?"

"It may. Why? Has he gotten himself into trouble already?"

"You could say that," Amiya said. "Dr. Kal'stit, did you receive anything from a 'Mr. Hoover'?"

"I have," the lynx-woman replied. "And I'll be sending its contents to the lab for studies."

"Could you and your guests meet me at the Doctor's office when you're done? There's been an urgent call from Exusiai. She'll explain everything."

The hologram flicked out of existence as the call ended. Mostima chuckled while Fiammetta shook her head and groaned.

"Always pegged that man as headstrong," Mostima jested. "But what's got your little rabbit in a tizzy?"

Kal'stit cast a grim look at the Messenger. She didn't like it one bit.

"I have a few theories," she said. "None of them pleasant."

---

Date: Early 2270's(?)

Location: Indeterminate, Wastelands

Hunting. It's a concept as simple as it is ancient. Where the predator hunts for prey. Where fresh meat can be taken back to one's tribe. It was considered a hobby in prewar America. Nowadays it is vital to the survival of any community. And one cub was being tutored in the art.

This child was following a woman in combat armor. Though her facial features were obscured, she was glowing with this sense of strength. The man radiated intellect, whereas she was the embodiment of power. The perfect image of a 'mama-bear' as Old America called her. Even if she wasn't his mother by blood, she had some of the instinct of one.

But the child didn't trust her all that much. Just because she paid more visits to the doctor doesn't mean she was his mother. She screamed 'mercenary' to him. She had that armor, those fancy guns, and the strength of a Bullhorner. She had more than enough firepower to slaughter everybody in the village. Why she hadn't done so yet was a mystery to him. Either way, he wasn't going to let his guard down around her.

They were out hunting for geckos. A child his size could easily get gobbled up by them if he got close. This lesson was about staying out of sight and range. So he stuck to the cliffs, behind cover, in the shadows. Wherever he can crouch down, jump over, or crawl under. And his weapon? A goddamn bow and arrow. She could've at least given him a BB gun, but no. No, she had to give him some ancient piece of crap.

Okay, maybe it wasn't a piece of crap. The arrows were sharp enough to pierce the Geckos' scales and flesh. And they were silent in comparison to the little 'booms' left behind by bullets. Not to mention easier to craft. Maybe there was a tactical advantage to these relics after all.

One gecko fell to the bow and arrow. Another got jumped by him and his knife when it walked by his hiding spot. Two more had their legs crippled before he went for their eyes. The mother of the pack took at least a dozen arrows before she finally went down. The woman smiled as he took out his knife and skinned the prey. She walked over to him and patted his head like some pet.

"Nice work kid," she said. "That's probably a week's worth of food you've got by now. Ready to head back?"

The boy nodded. The sooner he got back to his real guardian, the better. The two trekked through the desert for a good hour. It would be another before they got back home. On the way back the woman decided to strike up a conversation.

"Saw your little brawl the other day," she recalled. "Gave that asshole a black eye back there."

"Is this the part where you tell me you're disappointed, or proud?" The boy asked with vitriol.

The woman ruffled his hair. "Hey, I hate bullies too. It's why I took up arms. But fightin' ain't gonna build bridges. And people are capable of change too. Maybe those douchebags will turn a new leaf somewhere down the road."

"You're saying I should talk to them?"

"A little psychological analysis and warfare can be useful."

"And here you are doing the former on me."

The woman sighed. "Look, you don't trust me. I'm an unknown variable in your life. I can't blame you for having these thoughts. But a little faith- a little trust- can get you farther in life than walking some lonesome road. Plus, it's more fun to watch schadenfreude than it is to count pebbles all by yourself."

The boy crossed his arms and looked away. The woman went for a different angle.

"I've seen the way you act with *buzzsaw* around. You try to show off your test grades and the latest kill to him. You ask him all sorts of questions and you watch him work. You trust him, hell maybe even idolize him. Why? What did he do to earn your trust?"

The kid looked back at her. "... he gave me freedom."

"Freedom?" she asked with a tilted head. "Oh… that place, huh?"

At last, they arrived at their hometown. Or rather his hometown as far as he was concerned. The woman was a recent arrival, having set up shop a couple of months back. She hadn't spoken much about her life when she first came. She still hadn't said a word to this day. Perhaps she crawled out of a hellhole of her own? He probably could empathize with her in that regard at least.

The man was waiting for them at the doctor's office. He was reading one of the books he snatched from the city-that-must-not-be-named. He heard the door open and peeked his head out to see them entering his bedroom. He smiled as he closed the book, setting it to the side.

"Welcome back," he greeted. "I trust the hunt went well?"

"Yep," the woman replied. "Oliver Twist here took out an entire pack of geckos by himself. Little bastard was a ninja out there."

The man laughed. "Ever the slippery one," he said. "*static*, why don't you put the bounty in the meat locker down the street. *laserfire* and I can take care of the pelts."

The boy was hesitant to leave the man with her, but he eventually complied and did as told. He had seen him in action on the night they left their old "home". If that she-devil had any ideas, he can repel her just as he did with the Guard. The boy made his way to the local butcher's shop and knocked on his door.

A portly man opened the door and greeted the child with a hearty smile. "G'day mate," he said. "Here to make a purchase or have ye some bounty?"

The boy sat the sack of gecko meat before the man's feet. He took a peek inside and slung it over his shoulder.

"Hmm, clean cuts," he complimented. "No flakes or scales leftover. You'd make one hell of a butcher, lad."

"I'll stick with knives and bullets, thank you very much," the child replied.

The man laughed. "As stubborn as ever, I see. Go on ahead and load them up in the meat locker. I'll sort 'em out later."

The boy nodded and went to the back of the shop. There lay a massive Vault door, about the size of a man. He had to grab some stools to reach the handle but turning it wasn't that much of a problem. Yet when he set foot inside the door itself. The kid looked back in bewilderment and tried to push or pull it open. It wouldn't budge. He grabbed another stool and tried to turn the handle. Same result.

Then the door shifted into a glass window. On the other side were people in blue-and-yellow jumpsuits, pointing and laughing at him. Men, women, even children. The meat locker turned into a snowy forest, the sky above as black as the people's hearts. The only light he had was a blue moon.

But another one appeared on the scene. It was a walking flame, taking on the shape of a Yao Guai. He could hear someone crying inside the fire. It sounded like a girl. The jumpsuits chanted something and waved their hands up, cheering at the sight of the monster.

The boy wanted to reach for his knife but found that his entire body was covered in frost. He could barely move, not with his body shivering like crazy. He was amazed that he didn't shake himself apart. The Yao Guai charged at his claws first and the crowd grew wild. Before the beast collided with him, he could've sworn he heard the sound of flesh and bone being sliced open. He caught a glimpse of silver among the spectators before his vision went dark.

---

The Courier awoke with a groan. He rubbed his helmet as he rose back onto his knee. The world was still spinning, though, so he blinked and shook his head. His nose was still good if the scent of copper was any indication.

Wait… he wasn't just smelling copper. His nose was picking up sulfur and gold too. But he hadn't encountered a smell like that since-.

His vision finally returned, and he was in for a shock. Art Deco designs surrounding him. The blood-red skies and storms above. And of course the damn smell. He was back at the Sierra Madre. And he wasn't alone.

Out of the shadows emerged shambling figures in hazmat suits. They wielded a plethora of handcrafted weapons, from cosmic knives to spears and beartrap fists. He recognized them anywhere. They were the Ghost People. And they had him surrounded. Six naturally made a break for it, shoving the monsters aside.

More of them crawled out into the open. From the rooftops, the manholes, drainages, dumpsters. He kept running until he came across a mobile generator connected to a fountain. No, not a fountain…

He went to work on repairing it. If it was what he thought it was, it was his best chance at survival. Wires were tied back up, gears oiled and belts replaced. And with the slam of a button, the engine roared to life. A hologram of a man with bear ears popped up and glared down on the Ghost People. It lifted its hands to the sides of its head and began firing lasers from its forehead. The abominations that stuck around were disintegrated.

Six let out a sigh of relief. His reprieve was short-lived, however, as the hologram began opening fire on him. Six turned around to shut off the generator but the machine was gone. Vanished into thin air. But he did notice a wire out of place, though. It wasn't attached to the fountain before. And it was leading into a store.

Six wasted no time and followed the trail. Before him were a terminal and a breaker box. Six plopped a seat at the former but he couldn't hack into it. It was locked behind a password. He looked at the second object and noticed that its panel was missing. He could see the main switch inside.

He turned around to see the hologram stepping inside. He made a mad dash for the box and pulled the switch up. White noise emerged from the construct as it spasmed, contorting into many shapes. A bright white light emerged from the computer and engulfed the whole world.

Six shielded his eyes from the blinding light. Even with the lens they still burned from the intensity of the light. When that stinging sensation finally died out, he opened his eyes back up. He wasn't in the Sierra Madre anymore. He was in a dark, cramped room with patches of snow. He was back in Chernoberg.

So it was all in my head. Six bitterly thought. Another damn hallucination.

Yet he also felt a tiny speck of relief. But it was short-lived as he remembered his mission. The lights flickered back on, illuminating his surroundings. And the first thing to catch his eye was a corpse sitting at a table. This one wasn't the size of a child, though. If anything, it appeared to be around his height. Another one of the school's staff perhaps? No, this man's uniform resembled something from law enforcement back on Earth. A police officer then?

Static crackled into existence, startling Six. It was coming from somewhere near the body. Six walked over to the table to find a radio on it. A panel on the side was open, revealing circuit boards, wires, and the occasional wheel of tape. Six looked down at his Pipboy and then the radio. He pulled up the RADIO tab and shut the actual device off. The Cheronberg tab on the Pipboy vanished. Turning it back on restored it.

This was the source of the signal. This fellow must've been trying to reach out to the world while the school descended into chaos. It must've reached one of the local radio towers and bounced off from there. From the looks of things, though, he was the only one who answered.

He pulled the plug on the radio again. This time he was going to leave it like that. Nobody should have to see this horror show. And the dead in turn do not need anyone to disturb their rest.

He heard a whirring sound coming around the corner. The tell-tale sign of an Eyebot's antigrav repulsor. Six smiled as ED-E rounded a corner and found the Courier.

"Nice to see a friendly faceplate," Six said. "Sorry I ran off like that."

ED-E emitted a few inquisitive beeps at the human. He didn't respond immediately.

"I… just saw a ghost is all," Six replied. "Or two."

ED-E inquired further in binary. This time Six didn't feel obliged to answer him and simply left the basement. Some of the lights have come back on, albeit in flickers. He didn't know how long the power would stay on and frankly, he didn't want to. He was already satisfied with the answers he got here. He was all too eager to leave them all behind.

ED-E beeped something of concern at his operator. Six once again ignored him. Even if his Automated Personality evolved to adopt more human-like qualities, he doubted that the Eyebot would comprehend his issues (let alone have any understanding of human psychology in its programming). He already vented those out to more qualified and understanding individuals back home. He didn't feel like repeating it anytime soon.

He sprinted out of the school grounds and into the wider city. He didn't look back until he was absolutely certain that the hell home was out of his line of sight. When he asked ED-E that very question, the robot sent out an affirmative bleep. When he looked back for confirmation, his anxiety was assuaged.

His Pipboy picked up another transmission, though. This one wasn't broadcasting music or any dialogue, though. Rather it was a series of beeps and tones. Something about it seemed familiar. He swore he heard something like this back on Earth.

[Intelligence 8] Six blinked. That sounded like Morse Code. This world had Morse Code? Finally something universal! He took out an old pre-war book and began decoding the transmission.

~Alpha Pack speaking, go ahead.~

~Alpha, this is Delta Pack. We reached our rendezvous point. Have the other teams responded back?~

~Negative. You are the first.~

~Have they been compromised?~

~Unknown. Give them more time.~

Six didn't like the sounds of that. Were they mercenaries? Or just salvagers? Either way, it put him on edge. His Pipboy already triangulated the signal's point of origin and marked a waypoint for him to follow. Part of Six's mind was against the idea. If they were smart enough to use a radio, they were probably armed to the teeth.

Yet once more his curiosity was getting the better of him. Why would anyone come to this necropolis? To salvage goods to sell? If they were scavengers, then maybe they'd be willing to do some bartering. If they were mercenaries, then this place was of significance to their employer. In the end, curiosity won. Six was willing to err on the side of caution, though. That should keep his 'common sense' quiet for the time being.

Six followed the marker for at least a couple of hours before reaching his destination. It appeared to be a radio station if the tower was of any indication. His HUD did pick up movement though. He could see armored shapes patrolling the area. Getting near them would not be the best idea. He looked around for a vantage point and saw a crumbling building nearby.

It looked like it was nine stories tall from his perspective. The door was wide open and the top floor appeared to be relatively intact from the outside. Six ran up to the entrance and peeked inside. The lobby was as empty and grey as the rest of the city. He slipped in and began a slow trek up. While his HUD wasn't picking up any movement, he wasn't going to take any chances of tripping an alarm.

After several stories worth of climbing, he finally made it to the rooftop. He knelt down behind the ledge and took out some binoculars. He zoomed in on the station's current occupants. They were all wearing tactical armor and armed to the teeth. At first Six thought that they were of the Ursus army, but they didn't match Croissant's description of them. No bear ears, no pit-black dyes, no furs. They looked like something from a more arid background. Hell, they'd probably fit right in at the Mojave.

The crossbowmen had standard helmets and headsets attached to them. Lightly armored but no match for his sniper rifle. He'll have no issue taking them out. Then there were those hulking shieldbearers. 'Defenders', right? The ones that worried him the most were carrying grenade launchers. They also carried what appeared to be sickles on their belts. Not the kind of person he would want to get close to.

Then there were these towering individuals with the strangest helmet he had ever seen. They almost brought a dog house to mind when he looked at them. He resisted the urge to snicker at the sight. They appeared to be wearing ponchos or cloaks too. They gave this foreboding aura to him. Something told him that they were not to be taken lightly.

Supporting the humans were armored hounds and drones. He probably could take those out with a small dose of Steady. But even if he could, that'd risk sounding off an alarm. While he was scanning the station, his eyes caught a glimpse of something. Or rather, an absence of something.

It looked like an entire section of the city vanished into thin air. Didn't Exusiai say that some settlements were made from multiple platforms? Why would one of them break off from the rest of the city? Or could it just have been destroyed at some point? No, no he didn't see any wreckage from his vantage point. Maybe he could if he got closer to the actual edge, but that would mean running past the station.

Six sighed. There was too much distance between him and the goons, so his bullets wouldn't reach them. He'll have to get closer. He went back into the building and began a swift trek back to earth. There were some holes in the floors so he hopped down those as a sort of shortcut. Plus he helped himself to some LMDs along the way. Never know when you'll have to barter with someone.

When he finally got back outside and made a sprint for the station, a grey cloud rolled out of it. He heard the guards shouting something in that native tongue, walking in to investigate. Six hid behind some wreckage and peeped his head out. Something small- something fast- collided with the drones. Their thrusters exploded when the projectiles embedded themselves in them, bringing the machines crashing down.

The dogs were barking like crazy and ran inside. Six's ears picked up the sound of flesh being flayed and sliced apart. It was a sound all too familiar to him. Now some of the men were shouting something. No, not shouting. Screaming. Now he could make out the sound of armor being torn to shreds.

Six ran closer to the radio station, hiding behind another pile of debris. He tried to lock onto something in the clouds with VATS but it wouldn't register anything. His motion tracker wasn't reading any movement either.

"ED-E, you sense anything in there?" Six asked.

A negative beep from the Eyebot only raised more questions. How the hell was this smoke disrupting their sensors? Unless…

Six growled. Arts… he realized. It's fucking magic.

There was one soul he knew that wielded that kinda power. But the universe suggested otherwise. A crossbowman ran out of the fog in a panic, crying out. Something flew into his back and embedded itself into his spine. Six crept up to the fresh corpse to see a knife lodged in. April didn't use anything resembling those last he checked. This wasn't her handiwork.

Most of his brain was screaming 'GTFO', but the rest of it wanted answers. What the hell was going on? Why did they attack this camp? Were they hostile or friendly? What was the significance of this place? Six ruffled through his backpack and took out some Berry Mentats. Under normal circumstances, he'd laugh at the notion of needing them. He was plenty smart as is.

But these were crafted from a recipe out East. One that advertised a highlight effect of sorts. It was high time for a test run. Six popped a tablet and was ready to run into the fog. Only complication was that it came to him instead. The drug took effect shortly afterward.

There were several shades in the mists, some sort of combination between red and purple. He couldn't think of a proper name for the color at the time. As for how the shapes were produced, his best guess was that the drug granted him some form of echolocation or electroreception.

Most of the shades weren't moving. Yet one danced around his line of sight. It was alive, well, and fast as hell.

Someone shouted in the smoke. They sounded feminine, but nothing like April. And frankly, the dialect sounded different from the usual native tongue. It had an Eastern European vibe to it. Russian maybe.

"Could you please speak in English?" Six shouted back. "I don't understand a damn word you're saying!"

There was some murmuring in the mists. "What the hell is 'English'?" The voice asked in an accent.

"You just answered your own question," Six retorted with a slight smirk.

A blur slashed at his armor. His HUD's compass finally came back online but it was spasming like crazy. A single red rectangle was spinning around it like a ball in a roulette wheel at the Tops. ED-E let out agitated beeps as he fired away in the smokescreen. Six didn't hear the lasers impacting on anything. He tried to call upon VATS again, but it only locked onto ED-E. ED-E himself was thrown through the fog somewhere by the assailant. Through a glass window from the sound of things. Six tried to chase after the robot but the shadow prevented him from leaving his spot.

[Perception 7/10] He was listening for any footsteps or breathing. Hell, he was trying to find any unusual smell. Nothing. All he could make out were the blurs that rushed out to slice or stab away at his armor. All he could do was try to block them. At least the Berry Mentats hadn't worn off yet. He could at least predict where the next attack would come from.

Six felt something shift under his foot. Dirt. He smiled. He waited for the figure to strike again and knelt down. He threw the soil and dust onto his opponent. Some of the particles managed to get into their eyes, judging from the assailant's shouting. They were stunned long enough for the Courier to get a good look at them.

It was a young woman in a leather hoodie. Crimson hair peeped out from under a jet-black hood. She had a face mask of the same color, bearing some worn white markings. It was hard to tell what the original symbol was, though. He could also make out a crimson tail poking out from behind her. It looked like a canine to him. Maybe one of those Lupo's?

When she stopped rubbing her eyes, The Courier caught a glimpse of them too. Crimson, almost as red as her hair. And with hazel rings around the pupils. He recalled seeing images of similarly strange eyes in an issue of Today's Physician. What did the magazine call that condition again? Central Heterochromia', was it?

Six went on the offense, charging at her with his fists. He wanted to refrain from using lethal force, at least until he got some answers. He just threw a flurry of punches at her, followed by a Ranger Takedown. He pounced on her and just punched away. Yet somehow she broke free from him. She… phased through him?

What the hell? Six thought. Am I hallucinating again? No, those scratches on my armor are fresh, new. She and them are very much real. Must be intangibility or at least density control.

She slashed at his back with her blade. Six tried to block her attacks with his arms, letting them soak up the damage. When he saw a chance, he retaliated with a Scribe Counterattack. Now she was dancing around him, hacking and slashing at every turn. Six's armor was holding up so far, but even it had its limits. Sooner or later it'll break. Six tried to reach for a flashbang, but the girl always knocked his hand away from his belt.

The crimson 'energy' began to flicker and eventually vanished altogether. Just his rotten luck.

[Agility 5/10] The girl retreated back into the fog. Once again she was dashing to and from the smog, always landing her blade on his armor. She was too fast for him to hit back, let alone parry. Six drew out his ripper and by sheer luck, he finally managed to lock blades with her. Six tried to kick her in the abdomen, but she saw it a mile away. She phased through him and threw a kick of her own at the back of his head. That dazed him long enough for her to tackle him to the ground.

Now she was sitting right on his back. Her blade was at his neck.

"I don't have time for smart-alecks,'' she snarled. "Who sent you? Rhodes Island? Kal'tsit? The Emperor's Blades? Penguin Logistics? Talulah? That damn executive?"

Six growled at her accusations. "Me? Who sent you, bitch?!" he hissed back.

She scraped her short sword against his neck's cover. The sound it produced was something akin to scratching a chalkboard with one's fingernails.

"Nobody," She asserted. "I'm my own woman. And I'd watch your tongue while you still have it."

She knelt down closer to his face. "I won't ask again; Who. Sent. You?"

Notes:

And Crownslayer steals the scene! Yep, this is one of the earliest bosses in Arknights and one that people loved to bully around. Too bad Six doesn't have first-hand experience with her. Especially since she's using her smokescreen now. Funny thing about this meeting; she was originally gonna pop up in the last chapter. Six would've run into her just before she left Siracusa and bribed her to drive him to Great Lungsmen. Another version had them meeting up at the beginning, but I figured that it'd be better for them to meet at the end.

Some of you might be wondering 'wait, why the hell is she here? Isn't she supposed to be in Siracusa right now?' Well, she's here for a very special reason. What could be so special about it? We'll let her explain in the next chapter. But for now, expect there to be a shitload of mistrust between the two.

And speaking of Chernoberg… yeah this was a location I wanted to revisit for a while now. Hell in earlier conceptions, it was to be the starting point for whatever I wanted to crossover with Arknights. Some spacecraft or aircraft flying over the dead city and the protagonist(s) falling and crashing through the buildings was one of my earliest entrances. And hell, it would've featured the Ursus Student Self-Governing Group as first contact. Just imagine the looks on their faces if dug a Spartan landed out of some rubble. If anyone wants to make such an X-Over, by all means... DEW IT!

Someone also mentioned Sargon in a previous review and pointed out how different it and Kazdel are. I'll admit that regions slipped my mind when looking for potential LZs for Six to pop up at. I guess I was looking for more urban-based environments to spawn him at while typing the first chapters. Something like the DC ruins or Boston. Hence why Kazdel was chosen in the end. Sargon probably shares some similarities to the Mojave and would feature an environment familiar to Six. But he also explored urban-based ones, like the Sierra Madre, Divide, and Freeside. So not too alien for him either way.

And as a lesser bit of trivia, I was listening to some Halo 3: ODST ambient soundtracks while typing up the city's sections. And speaking of the USSGG, what's with the school section? Well, Halloween is around the corner at the time of this typing, so I wanted to include something spooky and torture Six's mind some. And we also got a glimpse of his (potential) backstory and a little bit of what happened after the 2nd Battle for Hoover Dam. As you can imagine, it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. We'll be seeing a bit more of that time period down the line… and maybe some angst to boot.

Then there's Mortimer. Is he really a ghost, or another of Six's hallucinations? I'll leave that for you to decide.

Since Lyudmila is here, could we see Zima and her crew pop up? Honestly, I don't think any of them want to go back to that hellhole. Zima herself made that crystal clear in one of her voice files. But rescue operations were going on after the fall of Cheronberg, though. Not sure if they're still ongoing by 1098, but seeing as that someone is messing with some radio towers right now…

Oh hey, two of Rhodes Island's pillars have finally made an appearance! What about the Doktuh you may ask? Well, I'm saving him for later down the line. In the meantime, Amiya and Kal'stit will have to solve this little mystery without him. Of course, there are some trust issues between the two of them as well, if I recall correctly. And Kal'stit certainly isn't as gentle and polite as Amiya either.

Next time; Rhodes Islands does some digging around and Six finds himself in a shaky partnership.

Edit: Extended the fight between him and Crowny.

Chapter 8: Lay That Pistol Down, Babe

Summary:

The sun sets on Bald Mountain.

Date: September 30th, 1099

Location: Rhodes Island, the Doctah's Office

Time: Evening

Sunsets. Who doesn't love them? It's that time when the blues take a seat and allow warmer colors to take the stage. Reds, purples, oranges, yellows. Best of all there were no clouds to obstruct today's display of color. Under normal circumstances, it would be a breathtaking sight at Rhodes Island. But sadly there were more important things on the occupants' minds than gazing at the sky.

Amiya, Mostima, Fiammetta, and Dr. Kal'stit were having a holographic discussion with some offsite Operators regarding a certain Courier. The Foxfire squad- currently led by Exusiai- decided to show everyone some items they retrieved following an assault on a local mafia family's hideout. They mostly consisted of strange batteries, bullet casings, and some unidentified substances.

"I'm telling ya, I've seen nothing like these before," Exusiai said. "No firearm in Tera's history has been designed with batteries in mind. Let alone turn people into puddles or ash pies."

Kal'stit held that stoic expression of hers throughout the discussion. "And you didn't notice any psychological issues with this 'Six' character during your first encounter with him?" she asked the Lateran duo.

Mostima shook her head. "Any mental issues, no," she confessed. "I just assumed that he may have had a sheltered- or at least isolated- life when we first met. Though I will admit I found his arsenal somewhat off-putting at the time."

"Agreed," Fiammetta added. "I've seen people collecting Sankta firearms as trophies, but very few operating them. That SMG in particular would've been a nightmare for even a Sankta to operate, but he showed no problems with his. That was the first red flag in my book."

Kal'stit looked at Croissant's projection. "Croissant, you said that the Courier had inquiries about the existence of several locations and factions."

"Yep," Croissant confirmed. "Didn't recognize anyone or anythin' by those names. Caesar, New California Republic, Los Vegas, a Brotherhood of Steel, America, China, Mexico. Hadn't heard of them, and certainly hadn't found anything about them on any intranet or in our files."

Kal'stit put her hands together, letting out a 'hmm' under her breath. "And you're certain that he is heading to Great Lungmen?" she asked Mostima.

"He is," Mostima confirmed. "Or at least was. He asked for a ride there when we first met at Müllstadt. Didn't bother to ask why at the time."

And now he's on the run. Kal'stit thought. There's no telling where he might be or who he'll run into right now.

Kal'stit rose from her seat. "Then it is imperative that we find this man before anyone else does. We do not need some Ursus nobles or Columbian corporations to escalate tensions with his technology."

Or start a war...

"Foxfire, I want you to rendezvous with us at Rhode Island. Bring your findings for further analysis. Exusiai, tell Emperor to keep an eye out for this Courier. Report back to us if your organization has a sighting of him."

Exusiai nodded. "We'll be there by tomorrow," she said. "If we do find a lead on him, you'll be the first to know. Take care, okay?"

"You too, Exusiai," Amiya said with a smile.

The transmission ended. Kal'stit turned back to the fallen Sankta and Liberi. "I trust that you two keep this meeting a secret," she said.

"Don't worry," Mostima handwaved. "We don't want things to get ugly either. The very least I can do is keep our superiors' pride intact."

The blue-haired angel left the room, with her fiery friend shadowing her as always. The head doctor looked back at Amiya.

"We need to contact the Doctor and Rainbow Team," the medic said. "Tell them that we may have another Originium Dust incident on our hands."

The girl nodded in agreement. "I'll see if I can reach them. What are you going to do in the meantime?"

Kal'stit plucked up the flash drives lying on the table. "I'll be bringing these to Closure," she replied. "She'll be decrypting them for us. I also recommend that we send a team to sniff around Müllstad."

Amiya pressed a button on a speakerphone. "Miss Franka, please report to the Doctah's office. Repeat, please report to the Doctah's office."

A couple of minutes passed before a Vulpo girl waltzed in. She had a mischievous look on her face.

"Heya doctor," she greeted Kal'stit. "Need me to clear out some radioactive sludge for you?"

Kal'stit didn't bother to reply. She just walked past the Infected Guard and exited the room. Franka pouted.

"Buzzkill," she muttered in disappointment. She looked back at Amiya. "So how's it been?"

"Fine, Franka," Amita replied. "You were part of the squad that encountered Rainbow Team, correct?"

"Yep. They call just now or do you need me for hazop?"

"No to the first one. The second... maybe. I need you to check out a certain location for me..."

---

Date: October 2nd, 1099

Location: Chernoberg

Time: Afternoon

To say that Six was in an awkward position is quite an understatement. He was lying face-first on the ground. A punk-ass woman had her boot on his back. He was unable to reach any of his weapons. Oh, and she had her knife against his neck. All while she's trying to interrogate him.

"I won't ask again," she said. "Who. Sent. You?"

Six growled. "Same as you; nobody. I'm my own man."

"Oh really?" she snorted. "Prove it."

"[Perception 5] My armor, dingus. Does it look like anything those goons had? Hell, did my robot look anything like theirs?"

The woman's eyes furrowed. She withdrew her blade but still had the Courier pinned under her.

"Then why are you here?" she asked.

"Curiosity," Six said. "I picked up this signal in the wastelands and followed it to here. Traced it to a middle school and..." he shuddered. "Stumbled across the Lord of the fucking Flies."

The woman's grip relaxed. A couple of seconds later and she rose onto her feet. Six was now free to do the same. Six was able to turn his head enough to catch a glimpse of her eyes. She seemed somber. Mournful. Had she been there too?

"How did you get a signal from here of all places?" she asked.

Six showed her his Pipboy. She reached out for it but Six was quick enough to reel it away from her.

"Uh uh," he warned. "This is one of a kind. You break it, there'll be hell to pay."

She rolled her eyes. "And that thing led you here? To a necropolis?"

"I was hoping for a place to trade and rest at. Didn't expect everything to be dead on arrival. But hey, I'm not too picky about my sleeping spots."

"You honest to gods would sleep in a place like this?"

"I'm from the wastelands. We all lived in ruins where I come from."

The two heard some music coming from the fog. A drumbeat from the sound of things. Six knew that leitmotif all too well.

"At ease, ED-E," Six commanded. "The situation's been defused."

For the time being.

ED-E flew into view of the humans. The woman's hand hovered over her blade, but she didn't draw it this time. The robot beeped some inquisitive tones.

"That is a good question; what are you doing here?" Six noted.

"Paying my respects. But it seems as though the grave I was looking for rolled off."

"Rolled off?" Six asked. How could someone's resting place-

A recent memory came back to him. He looked back at the gaping hole nearby.

"You mean the missing platform?" he realized.

She nodded. "The core to be precise. I'm no technician, but I'm fairly certain that mobile platforms are supposed to be able to communicate with one another."

"So you came to this radio station in the hopes of finding something to track it down. Like a signal or a network."

She nodded. "Unfortunately some vultures decided to take roost in this one. Obviously, I couldn't let that happen."

And right on cue, those 'vultures' sent out another broadcast. Six brought up his Pipboy and began playing it. Like the last one, it was in Morse Code.

Delta, this is Alpha. Come in.

...

Delta Team, respond.

…

Respond!

…

All Teams, the light is yellow. Repeat, the light is yellow. Treat any unaffiliated persons you happen across as a threat.

The woman cursed in Russian- erm, Ursine- under her breath. He was surprised that she understood any of it.

"Well, looks like you've stirred up the hornet's nest," Six noted brusquely.

She glared at him. Obviously, she wasn't in the mood for his smart mouth. She put a hand on her chin, probably thinking about her next course of action. She looked back at the foreigner.

"How good are you in a firefight?" she asked.

"Plenty," Six boasted. "But if this is going where I think it is, then I need a favor in return."

"I figured that was the case. Name it."

"I need to get into Great Lungmen."

The woman gave him a bewildered look. "Why would a wastelander like you want to go to that cesspool?" she asked.

He didn't reply immediately, though.

That honestly is a good question. He privately admitted. What the hell do I hope to find there? I've hardly even translated that Holptape from the theater yet. And asking her to do so for me might not be the best idea. She could be involved for all I know. I'll have to get back to it once I've got the time… and an actual plan.

There was also the tone of her question. Why did she call it a 'cesspool' just now? Was something personal, or was there some type of danger present in the city? He pushed those thoughts back. He barely had any data on this world right now. The only way to get more was to get to Great Lungmen as quickly as possible.

"...I'm tracking someone down," he claimed.

That intrigued the woman some. "Oh?" she said. "Someone important?"

"More like something. Something was taken from me and I want to know why."

"And you have a lead to Great Lungmen?"

Six nodded. That tidbit was at least truthful.

"You have a passport to get in?"

Six blinked and tilted his head. "Passport?"

"Uh, yeah. It's what civilized travelers have to enter the big cities. You want one, you'll have to go through days worth of papers and questioning."

"You're shitting me."

She didn't respond with a nod or shake of her head. Her eyes, though, were dead serious. Six growled under his breath.

"I don't have time for that bullshit," he said. "I need to get into that place ASAP."

"But you do have time for a little recon, da? Watch my back and I'll help you sneak in."

Six put a hand on his chin. If what she said was true, then his (potential) quarry would run off while he was shaking hands with the locals. But could he really trust her? After all, she just tried to kill him a minute ago.

Well... Six thought to himself. If she tries to backstab me, I can always return the favor. I haven't used my Turbo stash from my GRX implant today. Might be wise to hold off on those for now.

"You've got a car? 'Cus metalhead here can only fly up to thirty miles-per-hour."

ED-E emitted a series of irritated beeps at the Courier.

"Miles?"

Six slapped himself in the gasmask.

Of course the Russian girl uses Metrics, he thought to himself. Let's see…

[Intelligence 7] After doing a bit of math in his head and counting with his fingers, he replied. "Forty-eight-point-twenty-eight kilometers, roughly speaking."

"Ah. Well, yes. I do. How else could I get here? Where's yours?"

"Blown to pieces by some metal arthropod."

She cringed. "Ouch."

"Yeah… so I guess I'm in. But if you backstab me, I'll fucking melt your face off."

The girl snorted and walked towards the radio station. Six's hand hovered over his Plasma Defender as he followed. The radio station was rather small and modest, with a tower sitting not too far from it. The trio stepped inside to find its guts covered in cobwebs and dust. Some areas had been disturbed, though, recently dusted off. These men were in the middle of spring cleaning before the she-wolf slaughtered them.

One room had a table with mics at the center. Another had some soundboards and one of those folding computers- "laptop" the redhead called them. Six attempted to power it on, but it didn't respond to any of their commands. He noticed a toolkit nearby and opened it up. He smiled as he looked at the contents and grabbed them. He went to work on cracking the laptop open. To his disappointment, most of the hardware had already corroded away. So much for studying it.

The woman shouted something in Russian in the room next to him. Six ran to see her at some dusty old terminal. It was big and blocky, like those of his homeworld. And from the looks of things, it was just as sturdy. She cursed as the login screen popped up. The blank bar on the monitor told him everything.

"Locked," she said. "Look around. There's gotta be a password for this piece of der'mo somewhere."

Six looked around the station for anything containing the login credentials. Books, CD cases, bookshelves, under mats, anywhere and everywhere. He eventually took a photo out of a frame and looked at the back of it. There was something written in Ursine. Six immediately began translating it and came up with the following;

Do you remember the day we stepped out of college?

Six raised an eyebrow. Were they talking about certificates? He looked around for something resembling such a thing and dug up some framed documents. It took some time translating them, but after a few minutes he managed to get a date from one of them; 23rd of December, 1090. Six ran back to the redhead and brought the information to her. She pumped up her fist when the machine took the password.

She clicked on an icon on the desktop and brought up some kind of program. There were numerous charts and windows on the screen, one of them resembling a radar. She fiddled around with it some, causing dots to disappear and reappear on the 'radar'. Her shoulders slumped.

"Chert voz'mi," she cursed. "This tower doesn't transmit signals beyond the city. Let alone the platform."

"Is it connected to a network at least?" Six asked.

"Yeah," she said. "I have a lead on a data center. It's not too far from here."

She rose from her seat and the trio walked out of the building. The ruined streets of Chernoberg greeted them as they followed the hooded punk. She had this sort of twitch or edge about her during the trek. She was obviously an assassin or rogue based on their earlier encounter but that wasn't what bothered Six. What bothered him was how she seemed to slip into a trance on some occasions. Sometimes she stopped and stared at certain stores and buildings. Sometimes she averted her gaze when passing by a body.

Something else occurred to Six. "We've never introduced ourselves," he noted. "Might be a good idea to trade names before we get into any firefights. Folks back home call me Six. You?"

The redhead snorted. "Seriously? She asked. "They named you after a serial number? What next? Your brother's name is B127 and your sister's A2?"

"Haha, very funny. But at least it sticks. And you are?"

The woman stopped in her tracks and just stood there. She had this conflicted look in her eyes. Six wanted to say it was trust issues, but something else seemed to be at play here. Finally, she spoke.

"Lyudmila," she revealed.

Six raised an eyebrow. "I think I heard that name before in a history book," he said. "Didn't it belong to a famous sniper or something?"

Lyudmila shrugged. "Can't say that I'm an expert in either field," she confessed. "Where are you from anyway?"

"Out west," Six said. "Can't remember where exactly, though. Amnesia and all."

"Hmph."

"What about you? Do you have any memories of home?"

Six's tone was rather caustic. Hell, even he was surprised by it. Where did it come from? The redhead was briefly taken aback by his comment but she quickly shook it off.

"Here, believe it or not," she confessed.

Six did a double-take. "Waitwhat?" He said rapidly.

"I was born in this city years ago. My father and I used to live here until an… incident."

"Damn…"

She started walking again and the dimensionally displaced duo followed suit. Nobody said another word for the next several minutes. Eventually, they came across a building resembling a news station. The first thing that stood out was the massive radar dish at the top of the building. Just seeing it brought back memories of Black Mountain and Tabitha's cult of personality. A small part of his brain was praying that they wouldn't encounter any Super Mutants or equivalents to them today.

His prayers went unheeded. Up ahead was a swarm of armored scavengers. All of the types he had seen back at the radio station were present. Hounds, drones, defenders, even those hulking figures in cloaks. Lyudmila cursed their luck.

"More of those ublyudki," she said.

"Think we can take them?"

"The ones outside, maybe. But I'm more worried about the forces on the inside. They might come running out and surround us if we charge in. I'd rather do things quietly."

Six nodded. He'd rather not tangle with the shieldbearers anytime soon. The two of them scoped around the station grounds until they found a ladder. Lyudmila was the first one up, peeping her head over the ledge. She motioned for the duo to follow suit. There were a couple of bowmen patrolling the roof.

She pointed at herself and then the goon on the left. Then she pointed at Six and the other goon. He quickly got the message and the two crept to their respective targets. Both of them covered their victim's mouths and slammed them to the ground. Six jammed Chance's Knife into his target's neck while Lyudmila slit the other's with her blade. The former's hud was picking up movement below but the word 'HIDDEN' was still flashing.

The two of them found a door but it was locked. Six was about to pick the lock when the woman held up her hand. She walked over to the barrier and placed said hand on it. Then she vibrated and shifted through it. Six blinked and almost cursed out loud. The door opened up to reveal a smug Lyudmila. She beckoned him inside. He and ED-E didn't bother to ask questions.

The woman quietly shut the door as they came in. The inside wasn't all that remarkable at first. Just a grey staircase that spiraled around in a grey hall. Bits of plaster and glass littered the steps and floor. There were some holes in the ceiling for light and the elements to drop in and rain down on everyone. These kinds of ruins were a dime a dozen back on Earth.

Then they came across the offices. The terminals here weren't like the ones at the station, let alone Earth. The screens were as flat as pancakes while the actual computers-if any were present- appeared to be shaped like coolers. There were some printers here and there, but most of them were damaged beyond repair. There were even some of those smartphones lying around too. And the place was filled to the brim with guards. Some of them were busy dissecting the technology, laying out circuit boards and wires on desks and placemats.

Six looked back at Lyudmila. "Some swordsmen at 9 o'clock," he whispered. "Drop 'em or sneak by?"

"Are they alone?"

"Looks like it."

There was a beat. "If you can get the drop on them, do it. Otherwise, let me."

Six crept into the room, carefully stepping over broken glass and records. ED-E stayed behind with Lyudmila, each of them taking a side of the entryway. Six's motion tracker only picked up two hostiles so far, on each side of the office. There were some bookcases at the center, splitting the room in half. Perfect cover.

Six hid under a desk and waited for one of the goons to pass by. Once they did, Six slipped behind and grabbed them. One hand was covering their mouth, while the other jammed Chance's Knife into their neck. In a few seconds, they drowned in their own blood. Six gently laid the fresh corpse onto the floor, then carefully tucked it into his hiding spot. He crept over to the next guard and repeated the process.

Six stood upright and began inspecting the room. One of the desks had been dusted off recently and had some hardware on it. Nothing but hard drives, each wrapped up in anti-static bags. Everything else was left at the mercy of the elements.

He poked his head out of the room, startling Lyudmila. ED-E seemed to laugh at her reaction in binary. He stepped out and allowed her to inspect the room for a bit before pressing on. The rest of the offices on the floors were empty. None of them had any hard drives, though. The goons must've collected them by now. They did leave some LMDs lying out, though. Six helped himself to some free cash.

They found the management's office, but it was locked up. Six went to work on picking the lock while his companions watched for enemy patrols. It took a few attempts, but he finally got through. To their surprise, the room was free of any dust and debris. Lyudmila took a seat at the desk and tried to power the computer on. To their dismay, it refused to boot up. Six gave the light switch a flip. The lights came on, but they were rather dim.

"Hmm," Six said. "Surprised that backup power lasted this long."

Lyudmila just walked past him. They reached a balcony and were now looking down at the lobby area. And it was crawling with guards. One of them was a tall guy in a cloak. He in turn was flanked by those grenadiers with sickles. They were setting up floodlights and external generators. Six growled and looked back at Lyudmila.

"There's no way we can sneak past all of them," Six said.

Okay, maybe that was a lie. He did have a couple of Stealth Boys left, but he wasn't gonna waste them on some scavengers. Nor was he inclined to share one with her, what with the risks of someone reverse-engineering it.

"I could use my smokescreen," she suggested. "But that might set off the fire alarms."

"If they're operational, I'd say that's actually a plus," Six pointed out. "It could drown out all the noise up here while your screen blinds everyone. Our footsteps, their cries, etc. Perfect recipe for an ambush in my book."

There weren't any sprinklers as far as Six could see either. That means there's no risk of electronics being ruined or any electrical fires starting. Six took out his riot shotgun and gave a nod to Lyudmila. She returned the gesture and breathed out her smokescreen. Just as Six figured, the fire alarm went off and startled the scavs. They were even more bewildered when the grey clouds closed in on them.

Lyudmila was the first one down. She landed on a swordsman and cut through his back. Six was the next one to jump, rolling and bumping into a crossbowman. His chest cavity was stuffed with 12 gauges before he could react. Though Six's ears were shielded from the fire alarms, the same can't be said for the natives. Some of them were busy trying to pick a set of ears to cover. They didn't last too long.

Others were smart enough to go on the offense. Six felt a blunt object smash against his back, causing him to stumble for a bit. He looked back to see some scaly bastard wielding a patchwork sledgehammer. He had to give him props for craftsmanship, though. Too bad the only reward he received was a storm of pellets.

Six spotted a drone flying above the smoke. It started beeping and a defender came rushing towards him. The Courier swapped out the ammo for magnum rounds and fired away. To his surprise, the drone projected a glowing field around him. Even more surprising was that said energy was repairing the defender's armor. Six cursed his luck. He fired more pellets at the scav, hoping to outpace his new healing factor. When the drum ran dry he switched to his Q-35 matter modulator and started melting through his armor and flesh. He didn't last for much longer.

A blue bolt struck the drone, sending its burning chassis crashing into the ground. Six looked to see ED-E entering the scene, firing at a swordsman as he charged at them. He turned to ash. Six gave the robot a thumbs up, only to be sent flying through the fog by an explosion. He growled as he got back onto his feet, spying a crimson drone with a cannon flying around. It lobbed a grenade at him, but he was quick enough to roll out of danger. A couple of shots from his Plasma rifle melted the machine. He took a couple of steps back to avoid being splashed by the green goop.

A rocket flew by Six. He looked to see a man with a scythe charging at him. He narrowly dodged a swing from him and opened up VATS. He targeted an arm and fired it away, replacing the battery during the emerald barrage. He took out his Ripper when the man dropped his weapon and rammed it into his torso. With a diagonal pull, he tore through his ribcage and out of the shoulder. A slash across his throat ended his suffering.

Six heard barking in the distance. He cursed their luck. The guard dogs outside must've heard the commotion after all. His fears were confirmed when the hellhounds came rushing at him. Six sidestepped a leap and swung at its legs. The limbs on its left side came flying off, earning a cry and whimper from the creature. He put it out of its misery with a knife to the jugular. Another of its kin managed to pounce on and pin Six down. It clawed at his chest plate while he held it back with one hand. He managed to slide his other arm under its neck and rev up. The head was severed from the neck and the corpse fell onto his body.

He growled as he shoved the recently departed off of him, whipping the blood on his pants leg. An arrow flew past his shoulder and he turned to see a couple of snipers. Six just tossed a grenade at their feet. One of them managed to roll in time to avoid the explosion. The other wasn't so swift. Six sheathed his ripper and took out That Gun. He took out the sniper's kneecaps, then his brain.

Two swordsmen came at him. Six fired the rest of That Gun's clip at them, but they were able to block the bullets with their blades. He sheathed it and took out the prototype Plasma rifle. That melted through their weapons-and chest cavities- real quick. Another of those hulking shieldbearers came marching onto the scene. Six switched out the regular microfusion cell for an optimized one. By the time he called in a drone for repairs, most of his chestplate had melted off. That left him open to some hollow points from Sleepytime. Not long after the man finally expired, though, the drone dropped to the ground without warning.

Six raised an eyebrow under his helmet but he didn't have time to ponder right now. One of those thugs with the funny helmets entered the scene and immediately siced more machines on his tail. Six jumped and rolled around explosions while the mercenary kept his distance. Six fired back at them whenever possible. Once they were wrecked he shifted focus onto their master.

This guy wasn't going to give him a chance to fire. He danced around the Courier's shots and was quick to close the gap with his blade. He managed to get some cuts into the hero's armor, even knocking his weapon out of his hand. Six had to fall back onto his Ripper to block some of the blows. Six was able to get some cuts of his own into the bastard before another drone popped up.

It was one of those healing units. Snarling, Six broke off from the fight to search for the Q-35 prototype. He had a hard time seeing in the fog and on multiple occasions ran into opposition. It didn't take long for the bastard to catch up to him. He fell back onto That Gun to take out the drone, then the Plasma Defender to fight back. This time he toggled VATS and aimed for the legs. The flesh underneath was scotched judging from the man's screams. His head was the next thing to be boiled.

The smoke cleared up. Lyudmila was sitting atop a pile of fresh corpses and waved at the Courier. He could sense the smugness radiating from her. Part of him wanted to punch her. The rest of him just wanted to get to Great Lungmen as quickly as possible. He found the Q-35 and went to work reloading all of his weapons. He joined up with the rest of the team once he was finished.

Lyudmila gave a peculiar look when he approached her, though. Probably has some questions about his collection of guns. Thankfully she wasn't too concerned about them when she spoke up. All she wanted was to scour the area for anything useful. The fleshlings split up to search the floor for any remaining enemies and loot. The former already came rushing to their deaths from the looks of things. Six helped himself to a machete and some LMDs. It helps to have a backup weapon in case his Ripper broke down in combat. Chance's Knife can only do so much on its own.

The Courier and ED-E rendezvoused with Lyudmila at a desk at the floor's center. The sign hanging above them was written in worn-down Russian, but he wasn't in the mood to translate it. Probably 'Customer Service' or something along the lines of that. Lyudmila pointed to a certain end of the building. There was a door with some signs beside it. One of them had a lightning bolt on it. He had three guesses as to what it meant.

The trio walked over to and through that doorway. It was another spiraling stairway, this one descending into the (artificial) earth. The first floor they came across was filled to the brim with machines. They reminded him of the mainframes of his homeworld. Six asked Lyudmila for a translation of the room's sign. Her response was 'Server Room'. The techno-geek in Six wanted to examine the room before them. Unfortunately, he didn't have time to indulge his curiosity. He needed to move on.

The next floor they reached was the basement. There were several fuse boxes and circuit breakers lined up against the wall. At the center was a medium-sized generator. The floor was cloaked in darkness, though, so Six had to turn on the Pipboy's flashlight to illuminate the area. He walked over to the generator first.

It was a sorry excuse for a wreck. Most of its shell had been broken off, scattered across the floor. Many of the exposed wires and circuit boards either melted into slag or just corroded away. All of the power cells -or at least what he assumed to be power cells- were drained. ED-E shivered at the sight with an agitated beep. Six couldn't blame him.

The circuit breakers appeared to be in relatively good shape. The same could be said for the fuse boxes. Of course, the fuses themselves had blown out long ago, but those can easily be replaced. Lyudmila let out a nervous laugh when she saw the generator.

"So uh… you good with a wrench?" she asked sheepishly.

"Not the first generator I've had to fix," Six replied. "I'm more worried about finding replacement parts, though. Think you can bring some down at the base of the stairs while I inspect our patient here?"

The woman nodded and ran back up the steps. Six got closer to the machine and knelt down. While this world's periodic table might be different, their technology appears to follow similar laws and designs to Earth's. Six went into ED-E's inventory and took out a toolkit. A gift from Raul. He opened it up and took out two items; clippers and a soldering iron. It took a couple of minutes, but Lyudmila eventually returned with some spare parts and circuit boards.

Six immediately went to work. Replacing some gears and belts here, switching out circuit boards there, and soldering some wires here. It took a few minutes, but Six was overall satisfied with his work. When Lyudmila returned again, all she had were fuses.

"No batteries?" he asked.

She shook her head. Six cursed his luck and put a hand on his chin. Where the hell were they gonna get ba-

[Repair 60] He blinked. Wait a minute. That's it! He did have batteries on hand. Microfusion Cells. If he could do some extra rewiring, he could-. No. There wasn't any guarantee that Terra's technology would cooperate with Earth's. Even if he could insert a Cell into the generator, there's the risk of it exploding as soon as he flipped the switch.

But they were running out of daylight while they sat in the dark brainstorming. He had to take a risk. If it failed, they could always rest upstairs and rebuild the generator tomorrow. Six grabbed some loose wires and began attaching them to a Microfusion Cell. Once that was done, he repeated the process with the interior of the machine. He looked around at the circuit breakers surrounding him. Lyudmila had already replaced the fuses. All that needed to be done was to flip their switches.

One by one Six walked up to each of them, pulling or pushing a lever. A small light popped up from the generator. Though he hesitated for a bit, Six walked over and pressed the power button. The machine roared to life and the lights began flickering back to life. First came emergency power, then full power. Six pumped a fist with a whisper of 'Yes!' under his breath.

The trio ran all the way back to the office and found that the manager's terminal was back online. Even better, there was no login screen. Lyudmila plopped her ass onto the chair and brought up some programs, entering some commands. Several windows popped up on the computer, one with a map and a couple more with some readings. A black box with flashing red text popped up in front of the map, though;

ERROR!

Radar dish is not responding. Probability of internal damage is high. Please notify and send any available electrician for repairs.

Lyudmila growled and cursed under her breath. "Looks like one of us is gonna have to do some more maintenance," she said.

Six sighed, cursing his own luck. He sent ED-E to retrieve the toolbox while he made his way to the roof. When he got back outside he was rather surprised to find the area vacant. No signs of any guards and their minions. No drones scouring the air or dogs sniffing it. Maybe they all ran to their deaths inside earlier. He hoped that was the case.

Six found a panel and opened it up. Sure enough, some gears were lying around while some circuit boards lay in pieces. Cables had been cleanly cut, exposing the wires inside. Sabotage. ED-E came back with the toolbox. Six went to work on restoring the radar dish. The cables had their wires retied and soldered, with duct tape sealing them back up. It took some trial and error, but he managed to get the gears back in the right places.

Six gathered as many pieces of the circuit board as possible and reassembled the fragments to the best of his ability. Of course, they were beyond salvaging, though. He only gathered the remains to piece together something for reference. He ran back into the building and looked into the piles of hardware the trio stumbled across earlier. He found some boards resembling the dish's own and scooped them into his backpack. He jogged back to the machine and began inserting them.

A loud humming sound-maybe even a chime- entered his ears as the dish began rotating itself. He screwed the panel back on, then he and ED-E ran back to the manager's office. Lyudmila was writing something down on a piece of paper. Six walked over behind her to see a map with a blinking dot. Several more popped up on the screen, some of them moving.

"Found it," Lyudmila said with a sliver of joy. "It's just at the outskirts of Great Lungmen's territory. Shouldn't take but a few hours to drive there."

She shut the computer down and led the aliens out onto the rooftop—no sign of the other squads so far. The trio slid (or floated) the ladder onto the street. Six and ED-E had the advantage of motion trackers, but even they had some blind spots. If Lyudmila was able to disrupt their trackers, then so could others. That made Six all the more paranoid.

The Courier was spinning around like mad, toggling VATS every ten or so seconds. Eventually, they arrived at an underground parking garage. There were all kinds of vehicles down here. Pickup trucks, military jeeps, police cars, buses, eighteen-wheelers, APCs, motorcycles, even something resembling tanks. And no signs of rust on any of them. Granted, they were only abandoned for months, but still. Six was growing more and more envious of this world by the minute.

Lyudmila eventually stopped at a massive vehicle. Six wasn't an expert on automobiles- what wastelander was?- but he guessed it was an offroad truck. Maybe a troop transport given the seats in the 'trunk'. The lack of a proper roof seemed to cement this notion. There was something engraved on the rear end of the truck; S15M Boar. Obviously the model name and number.

ED-E emitted some concerned beeps at the human. He knew where this was going.

"Don't worry," Six assured him. "The windshield should keep you from flying outta the car."

ED-E wasn't entirely convinced. It made some inquisitive bleeps.

"[Repair 40] Hey, you've been able to pick up items with a tractor beam before, right? Why not use it as a tether to the seat? Not sure if you technically need it, but it can at least act as a makeshift seatbelt."

ED-E broadcasted some positive beeps. Six smiled under his helmet as the robot floated to his spot. He sat in the back and strapped a seatbelt on while Lyudmila took the wheel. The engine grumbled as she started the engine. It let out a roar once her foot slammed on the pedal, driving all the way down to the bottom. The wasteland was the first thing to greet them… along with a metal claw.

Lyudmila swore in Ursine and swerved around the silver arthropod. More of its brethren burst up around them and made their own swipes at the Boar. The ones that surfaced gave chase, but they couldn't catch up with the machine. Six flipped the double cheeseburger at the monsters as they sped off into the distance. In disappointment, the beasts burrowed back under the earth. It wasn't the end of the world for them, though. There was more prey out there. They just had to wait for someone else to wander into their trap.

---

Date: October 1st, 1099

Location: Rhodes Island, helipad

Time: 9 AM

Clear skies. Nothing but a blue horizon and the sun towering above. The latter's heavenly rays rained down upon Terra as Franka stepped outside. Personally, she found the skies to be rather bland today. She's got nothing against the sun of course. After all, it kept the planet from freezing to death. But it also had a habit of burning out its admirer's eyes. Clouds at least spiced things up with their unique shapes (and reduced glare from the solar system's lone star).

Franka leaned up near the hanger entrance while she waited for her squadmates. While some of them were already on the Ark, others were offsite at their homes or on a mission. Amiya's efforts to reach out to the Doktuh and Rainbow Team so far haven't been successful. The latter case wasn't all that surprising to her, but the former concerned Amiya greatly. Franka wasn't all that worried, personally. The Doctor was probably resolving yet another crisis like it was Tuesday. He's pulled plenty of asses out of the fire since his return to Rhodes Island, and he's certainly no stranger to surviving impossible odds. The man was a living good luck charm in her book.

The roar of an engine pulled her back into reality. One of their dropships had returned from a mission. Was it the Doctor's? A bunch of operators walked out of the vessel, but the neurologist wasn't among them. A couple of her squadmates were, though. Schwarz and Rangers broke off from the group and walked up to her.

"Good morning, Miss Franka," Rangers said with a bow of his head.

Franka waved back at him with a smile. "Morning, grandpa," she teased. "I see that age hasn't slowed you down yet."

The lizardman smirked. "It'll take more than the rivers of time to wear this stone down," he boasted.

The woman beside him wasn't in the mood for banter, though. "You asked for both of us," she said. "Did something happen to Ash and her friends?"

"More like somebody from their homeland might've made their way here," Franka confessed. "And they're not as subtle as Ashy."

Schwarz frowned. "Do you have a lead on them?"

"Club Penguin's keeping an eye out for him. We just gotta sniff around the spot they first found him at and see if anything else cropped up."

"And where might that be?" Rangers asked.

"Kazdel," said a voice. "Müllstad to be more precise."

The three Operators turned to see Mudrock. The snipers backed up some but Franka remained rather chill. Behind the Defender were several more operatives. Sesa, Magallan, Liskarm, Ceylon, Castle-3, Projekt Red, and Cliffheart.

"You… brought all of them into this?" Schwarz asked.

"They only know the bare minimum," Franka assured them. "Well, sans Liskarm of course. Nothing really sensitive. And even if the others knew, they're smart enough to keep their traps shut."

Schwarz walked up to Ceylon. "And you're letting her tag along?" she inquired further. It wasn't difficult to pick out the concern in her voice.

The pink-haired woman smiled. "This is only a reconnaissance mission," she reassured the Feline. "And in case you haven't noticed, I am in good company."

Franka placed a hand on Schwarz's shoulder. "What she said," Franka adds. "Come on. We've got some digging to do."

One by one the combatants boarded the airship, with Schwarz being the last. She took a seat beside Ceylon and the VTOL took off. A voice popped up on the intercom.

"Gonna be a few hours before we reach Kazdel," informed the pilot. "Hope y'all brought some good reading material."

Franka yawned. Just twenty seconds into their journey and already she was getting bored. She turned to Rangers.

"Got any good stories, gramps?" she asked.

The elder chuckled. "Depends on your tastes in music," he replied. "Have you ever heard of the Ink Blots?"

---

Date: October 2nd, 1099. Well, the 3rd technically speaking.

Location: Chernoberg

Time: Midnight

The road to the core was honestly a blur for the Courier. Between looking at the same landscape and struggling to stay awake, it was a rather dull trip for him. He could help himself to some water or casserole, but at the speeds they were going, he was certain to lose more than his dinner. Part of him contemplated taking a nap, but he was too paranoid. Anything could've happened during shuteye. ED-E flying off his seat, a car crash, raiders, another ambush from those armored creatures.

Lyudmila was kind enough to answer some questions about the arthropods. Folks around here called them "Metal Crabs". That was a bit of a surprise to the Courier. Last he checked, crabs usually hung out around water. The Lurks back home certainly did. Lyudmila shrugged, casually suggesting that maybe their original homes dried up at some point. Considering the kind of world they were in, Six wasn't surprised.

He asked about their meat and armor. Most folk typically avoided eating the former raw due to the risks of swallowing their armor's shavings. That, and the meat in general contained a considerable concentration of toxins (probably a byproduct of their exoskeleton given its metallic nature). You'd need to ferment it first before you'd even consider eating it. That being said, their plating was as lightweight as it was sturdy and sharp. Many people have used shards of their shells for crafting armor and weapons.

The scientist within Six wasn't fully satisfied yet. " [Science 50] They got a scientific classification?" he asked. "Like 'Scylla serrata horrendus'?"

Lyudmila shrugged. "Not that I'm aware of. Then again, biology wasn't my father's area of-"

She stopped herself. Intrigue crept into Six's brain. "Area of expertise?" he finished.

The woman simply nodded. The trio rode in silence for a few minutes before Six resumed his questions. "Anyone I should be wary of?" Six asked.

"Why? Made your fair share of enemies?"

"You could say that. Don't need any more on my ass. Got any on yours's?"

"Plenty," she said. "And I don't feel like airing my dirty laundry. What about you?"

Six grunted and shook his head. She got him there. Another hour passed and they finally found their quarry. Another mobile ruin lying dead in the desert. More skyscrapers crumbling under the pressures of time and mother nature. More originium spikes bursting from its artificial earth into the skies…

The world shifted around him. The skies took on a dirty, earthly brown color and the clouds began swirling around the platform. The universe flashed between tan and crimson lenses. The architecture was switching between Art Deco and a more modern (at least by dead America's standards) design. Two voices were echoing in the distance. One was a woman, the other a man. He recognized them. They were-

Lyudmila's shouting and ED-E's alarmed beeps brought him back to reality. Something whizzed past his head and another collided with the windshield. Six looked ahead to see several vans. All of them in pitch-black plating and windows, all of them surrounded and even boarded by mercenaries. And some of them had one form of turret or another on them.

Six growled. Those uniforms were the same as the ones back in the main city. These must be the rest of the scavenger teams. Already they were getting their shield guards into positions and arming their bazookas. Lyudmila was swerving around arrow and magic fire, along with the occasional rocket and grenade. Six looked back at ED-E.

"Hey buddy, wanna make a trade?"

Lyudmila of course butted in. "I don't they're inte-"

"I was talking to ED-E, not them, dumbass!" Six retorted. He turned back to the robot. "How about some of my guns for Red Glare?" he asked.

ED-E quaked and gave off an alarmed beep. Lyudmila didn't like the sound of that.

"Would you rather be blown up?" Six retorted under arrow fire.

ED-E relented and tethered itself to the back, floating over to Six's side. Lyudmila heard something mechanical open up and items shifting. When she dared to look back at them, her jaw dropped and her eyes became cartoonish white circles. There, mounted on Six's shoulder, was a forest green launcher.

"Give me a howler when we've got a clean shot," Six ordered.

Lyudmila shook off her bewilderment and nodded. She strafed and danced around Arts blasts and rockets, waiting for the bastards to start reloading their heavy artillery.

"Now!" she shouted.

Six locked onto a cluster of mercs with VATS and fired a few rockets at the nearest van. One landed at the feet of some snipers and sent them flying. Another collided with the enemy vehicle and blew off its doors. One more reduced the car to a fireball, exploding and spreading shrapnel around. Some mercs were caught in the blast, either burning or blown to smithereens.

"Where the fuck did you get that from?" Lyudmila shouted over the chaos.

"From the depths of hell," Six said. "Hey ED-E, think you can provide some covering fire while my Pip-Boy recalibrates VATS?"

ED-E emitted an acknowledging beep and began peppering the enemy with blue lasers. His accuracy was the best of the trio, but even he found himself having trouble with aiming while on the run. When VATS finished recharging AP, Six fired another volley of rockets at the goons. They all got fragged and their car was sent flying into the air. The wreckage crushed some unfortunate soul under its flaming corpse.

Things were about to get more complicated. Metal claws burst from the earth and began tearing at anything they could grab. One forced Lyudmila to swerve, throwing off Six's aim. He snarled as he saw their owners dig their way onto the surface. Originium slugs burrowed their way up as well and joined in the chaos. It became a three-way battle between them, the mercs, and mother nature.

"Where the hell did they come from?" Six snarled.

"You must've disturbed their nest with those rockets," Lyudmila suggested. "Or maybe some Caster summoned them."

ED-E chirped in annoyance. He was right. Why they popped up was hardly the point. All that mattered was how they'll disrupt the fight. Some of them were thankfully turning their attention to the mercs. The rest were eying the ragtag team of wanderers. Six added them to his list of 'things to blow up'.

The slugs were primarily relying on numbers to overwhelm their enemies. Not a bad strat, but Six already had a means of countering it. Dealing with them proved to be surprisingly easy. There was the danger of running over the explosive ones of course, but Lyudmila drove around them. The metal crabs were a real troublesome bunch, though. Even with the rockets, they seemed to be resistant to physical damage. Six found a workaround for this, though; incendiary rockets.

The flames and ED-E's laserfire cooked them alive. The incendiaries also proved to be effective towards the other parties. Mercs ran around screaming and rolling over as they tried to extinguish the fires around them. The surviving slugs scattered after each volley. For the Courier, it was like shooting Molerats in a barrel.

Unfortunately, the strongest of the mercenaries survived. A defender and one of those tall wraith-like figures- adorned with hints of crimson- stood proud and summoned their drones. Six fired some incendiary rockets at the leaders. They hardly even flinched as the explosives hit them. Six growled and swapped out Red Glare for the Q-35. That appeared to have a greater effect on them, but he ran through three Microfusion cells just to take down that defender and his drone. It took five for the other bastard.

Six took some deep breaths as the woman parked the Boar. "Was that all of them?" he asked.

ED-E and Lyudmila confirmed with a beep and nod respectively.

"Okay… now how are we gonna get into the core city? Maintenance shaft? Sewers? Parking garage?"

"Preferably the last one," Lyudmila said. "But those are usually opened from the inside. Still got any rockets?"

"Yep. Though I do have a missile launcher too for an extra 'oomph' if it sui-"

[Perception 7] Something caught Six's attention. Something up in the sky. Something a fiery orange. No, several somethings. And it was heading towards them fast. Six ventured a guess as to what it was.

"Uh, how often do meteor showers occur out here?" Six asked anxiously.

Lyudmila looked in the direction he was pointing. Six couldn't see her face, but he could sense the dread- the fear- creeping in. He could barely hear her curse-maybe even pray- under her breath. She floored it. Six and ED-E hung onto dear life as the heavens rained hellfire on them. All around them, crimson spikes began popping up from the earth.

Lyudmila was swishing and swerving this way and that, dodging fireballs and spikes. While she eventually got to shelter under the mobile platform, they were far from safe. Now the spikes were sending out red bolts of lighting at them. Some of them were forming makeshift electric- erm, magic- fences, trying to catch the trio by surprise. They needed to get into the core city, and fast.

Six say something dangling up ahead. An old ramp, missing one of its hydraulics. The remaining one was struggling to hold the weight by itself. It was partially exposed to the elements… and to the Courier.

"Mila, ramp!" Six shouted

Lyudmila followed Six's finger to the object in question. She locked her eyes on it and made a beeline for it.

"ED-E, Annabelle!" He shouted again.

ED-E acknowledged and traded Red Glare for Annabelle. The green-and-silver missile launcher was slung over his shoulder and he had his eyes on the target. With a thought, he triggered his GRX Implant and injected himself with some Turbo. Time slowed to a crawl as Six readied himself. He pulled the trigger and watched the missile fly toward the ramp's side.

The explosion tore the remaining hydraulics into pieces. The ramp collapsed with a heavy thud, kicking up a giant dust cloud. Lyudmila zigzagged around hell's talons and jolts of lightning, eyes glued onto their prize. Just as they were about to reach the entryway, though, the Catastrophe unleashed its ace. A column of Originium burst right before the Boar. The car collided with it, the pillar being just low enough for the vehicle to sail over it. It bounced across the earth and onto the ramp, spiraling between each hop.

ED-E's tractor beam lost its strength and it was sent flying. Thankfully it managed to correct its course and reoriented itself before it crashed, but the same couldn't be said for the humans.

There wasn't a roof over their heads so the humans received some kisses from a metallic surface. On multiple occasions, they were sandwiched between the car and whatever hard surface it bounced on. Eventually, the rollercoaster of a ride crashed into a wall. It slid ungracefully onto its side and stayed in that position.

[Endurance 8/10] Six groaned as the world stopped spinning. His limbs and chest cavity were screaming in agony. It felt as if a Super Mutant had used him as a trampoline. But he could still feel his fingers and toes, though. That was a good sign. He wasn't coughing up any blood either so far. Might be good, but his insides could be bleeding out for all he knew.

Six unfasted his seatbelt and fell onto the floor. It wasn't a graceful landing and all that did was inflame his crippled body even more. He stifled a yelp of pain and rose onto his feet. He looked up to see Lyudmila, still in the driver's seat. There was something dripping from under her hoodie. She wasn't moving.

Six was getting worried. He needed something to reach her. There was a ladder nearby so he propped it up against the ruined Boar. He got a better look at her as he climbed up. Her chest was still rising and falling. She was breathing, but there was blood dripping from her head. Nothing appeared to be missing, But there was some debris embedded in her. He needed to get her out of there. Without thinking he unbuckled her seatbelt and caught her as she fell.

It didn't occur to him if his arm could support her weight in his current condition. He let out a short yell as physics flipped him the cheeseburger. He fell off the ladder and landed with a thud, Lyudmila's unconscious body landing atop his. He wheezed as he gently shoved her off and propped up his Pipboy.

Everything but his skull was crippled. No surprise there. His HP was down from 645 to 36 according to the machine. Part of him wanted to say it was a miracle, but the rest of him threw that out the window. Lady Luck rarely- if ever- shined down on him. He jammed some Stimpaks into himself and one into Lyudmila. He took in a deep breath as his strength returned to him.

A series of beeps caught his attention. He looked to see ED-E hovering towards the humans, beeping an inquisitive tone.

"I'm fine," Six said. "But I'm more worried about her. We need to-"

The ramp they rolled up snapped off the platform and collapsed.

"-get her away from here..."

Six cursed his luck. Any minute now and lightning was gonna fly into here. They needed to get moving.

Six knelt down and carefully scooped the woman into his arms. He began a long walk up the parking garage, trying to put as much distance between himself and the Catastrophe. Going to the surface was out of the question, though. He could still hear the meteors bombarding the city. He'll have to settle for here, or at least some type of shelter nearby.

He eventually came across an ambulance on the fourth floor. It was unlocked so he had no issue getting into the back. There was a stretcher inside, plus some equipment like IV lines. Perfect. He gently laid Lyudmila's body on the table and took out his Doctor's Bag. There were enough supplies to treat one more patient. After that, he'll have nothing but stimpaks and chems.

He started by removing the clothes. They were torn, but they could be salvaged at the very least. As he removed her shirt and tank top, he was in for a surprise. There, growing out of her skin, were ebony crystals. The same type he saw on those wastelanders in the mines.

She was Infected. Six just stood there staring at her body for a minute, trying to process the situation. First of all she was an alien. For all he knew his chems could poison her. And second, there was the risk of catching Oripathy. He still has a slim understanding of it. If he caught it he'd risk bringing it back to Earth with him.

He shook his head. Why the hell was he so worried right now? His gloves should be sturdy enough to protect him from any scraping from those shards. And that was if he were clumsy enough to let that happen to begin. Plus, she was his best bet for getting into Great Lungmen. He injected Lyudmila with Med-X and took out some tools.

The next thing to go was the shrapnel. Glass, scrap metal, plastic. Six whipped Lyudmila's head off with a disinfectant, then wrapped a bandage up around it. While he was at it, he also removed some of the orginium shards and placed them in a bag. He was gonna study these later… if he can find a microscope that is. He disinfected her wounds and closed them back up with stitches. He injected a Stimpak into her to hasten her recovery.

For the finishing touch, Six placed a blanket over her. It'll at least provide some modesty and protection from the elements. He wanted to call it a night then and there, but his eyes were glued to her. Or rather, her wolf ears and tail. He could not help but watch them flick and swish about. Part of him still couldn't believe that such traits were a common part of Terran physiology. Were they truly flesh and blood, or cybernetic implants?

He removed a glove and reached for one of Lyudmila's wolf ears, stroking it. He could feel the fur and warmth between his fingers and saw blood veins on the inside of her ear. That same hand hovered down to her wolf wail and repeated the process. Same results.

His eyes widened with child-like wonder. So many questions swirled in his mind. Did she hear out of one set of ears or both? How much did her people's neurology resemble his? What about their amino acids? What mineral were the horns of other races made of? Calcium or ivory? Did they release pheromones like Earth's animals?

A yawn interrupted that train of thought. He can find all of the answers on another day. Right now he needed to recharge. He walked out of the ambulance and found a chair nearby. He swiftly propped it up and plopped his behind on it. Finally, he could relax. No more running on fumes.

"ED-E, stand watch," Six ordered. "I'm gonna… *yawn* catch some Zs."

The eyebot chirped in acknowledgment as the Courier finally closed his eyes. Even as Six drifted to sleep, he could still hear the storm outside. Olympus was raining their fury down on the city while Hades clawed at their doorstep. How the people of Terra managed to endure any of these- let alone thrive- was beyond his compression. At least, for the moment. He'll come to understand its laws and chemistry sooner or later.

He'll need to if he hopes to make it back home...

Notes:

And thus begins Six's adventures with Russian ninja girl!

First of all, the Catastrophe. Yes, they don't just pop up as storms. From my understanding, they basically take the form of any natural disaster and tend to pop up where there's Originium. Since Chernoberg was already bombarded by one and littered with literal mountains of magic rocks, I figured that another would eventually crop up.

And then there's Lyudmila. Yes, her 'mission' is essentially to leave flowers at her father's grave (or the closest thing to one). Of course, Chernoberg is also the scene of her biggest crime against civilization. The enemies encountered here are more-or-less from the A Walk In The Dust event. What are mercenaries doing in Chernoberg of all places, you may wonder. Well, let's just say that Lyudmila isn't the only one with some ideas (and information).

Sorry folks, Herr Doktuh's still not in the house. But don't worry, we have the rest of Rhodes Island to follow. Yes, we're bringing in the Operators featured in OD because who the hell else has the experience? As for the rest of the crew, they have some roles to play. Ceylon as a medic, obviously (and a headache for Schwarz). Castle's a robot, so immunity to poison and other toxins. Sesa's research would be useful for examining any alien weapons they happen across. Magellan's drones can scour the area.

Jessica… well, I guess that kinda depends on the timeline. Her artwork from Chapter 9 certainly implies she's had some growth after the shitstorm in Chernoberg. But since that hadn't come out in English at the initial time of this post, I fell back onto her depressed cat cycle for the time being. But just because she's sad-cat doesn't mean she can't bite back. Plus, she does have a hazmat suit as an in-game costume. That'll be handy down the line. If Stormwatch ends up happening before Originium Dust, I'll probably do some editing and slight rewrites to fix the timeline. *Shrugs*

Projekt Red's got the nose. Cliffheart's an explorer at heart (no pun intended). 'Nuff said. Mudrock… honestly the village they're going to is meant to be the one she encountered Logos at. Or at the very least a neighboring location near it.

Next chapter will mostly be following Rhodes Island's investigation. Franka and co. do some digging and discover some rusty old stuff… and maybe a new breed of devils. We dive into Lyudmila's psyche and foster their alliance some more. As always, feel free to scream at me for any community or grammar snarls.

Edit: And I just remembered that Sleep Deprivation and Dehydration affect one's Endurance. While Six's would normally be 10, his sleepless drive has deducted it by two points. Oh, and someone else pointed out that Castle's a Guard, not a medic. I think I got him and Lancet mixed during writing. Whoops. That's been corrected.

Chapter 9: Dumpster Diving

Summary:

Alright gang. Let’s split up and search for clues!

Date: Unknown, at least two months since the 2nd Battle of Hoover Dam

Location: Miles from the Mojave border

Time: Morning

Sand. Dirt. Scorching Sun. Freezing nights. These were all a constant in the Mojave for as long as anybody remembered. The natives battled with it on a daily basis before explorers arrived on this land. Settlers had to adapt to these conditions in the days of the Wild West. Their descendants lived comfortable lives before the bombs dropped. But after the bombs… heh, not so much.

The Courier had just walked out of the northern border of the Mojave Wasteland and into neutral territory. The NCR and Legion haven't made a play for the land in recent months, so Six didn't have to worry about running into either faction. Of course, he brought some company along with him just to be on the safe side. With him was Rose of Sharon Cassidy (or 'Cass' for short) and Rex. Truth be told, Cass was the one leading this little expedition.

She had run into a trader from the Eastern Commonwealths a few days ago. Someone with a lot of stories and history to share. Under normal circumstances, Six would've leaped at the chance to meet this person. But he had been burdened with leading New Vegas since he won its independence and was reluctant to leave his post. Not until he was certain the locals wouldn't burn their homes to the ground like complete idiots.

Thankfully Arcade was willing to fill in his shoes for the time being. Truth be told, Six always considered him the better leader- or at least speaker- of the two. Sure they both kicked ass in the battlefield and labs, but Arcade could actually hold a conversation without looking awkward or losing his patience. And frankly, he was better at politics than Six was.

The trio finally arrived at their destination. It was a gas station with a crimson rocketship on the rooftop. There was a garage large enough to house several cars, with a convenience store connected to it. There were two signs towering over the world. One of them was the original, prewar brand; Red Rocket. The other was a newer- if crude- neon sign. The latter was flashing the words 'Journey From the East!'.

Outside were a couple of robots. One of them was a Protectron, nothing special. The other was a rather unique model. It was tall, lanky, towering over the average human. It had a couple of antennae and was coated in bright red paint. This was a working model of Red Rocket's mascot. What was its name again? Was it ever named?

There were several statues too. Some of them are people in power armor. Some were of the Vault Boy. There were turrets all over the place too. Some regular machine gun turrets. Some missile launchers. A couple of laser turrets here and there. There were some vending machines and dispensers too. And near the entrance hung the flag of the Old World.

"This is the place," Cass said.

The trio walked up to the front door of the shop. Cass held up a hand.

"Fair warning," she added. "This guy keeps a… strange-ass pet in his store."

"What kind of pet?" Six asked.

"The kind that Tinman here will chase after."

She took out a couple of items from her bag and handed them to Six. It was just a dog collar and leash. Six would've snarked at her, but then he remembered Rex's distaste for rats (and hats). The cyberdog whined at the Courier as he buckled the collar on him. With leash in hand, Six knocked on the door.

An odd sound popped up behind the barrier. It sounded like… a meow? The door gave way to reveal a Ghoul in a traveling leather coat, pistol in hand. Hanging around his neck was a bandana with stars and stripes, along with welding goggles. His sunglasses had their rims replaced with bottle caps of all things. But the strangest thing about him was his handgun. At first glance, it appeared to be a 12.7mm, but its receiver was actually a Fusion Cell.

[Perception 6] Even stranger was the symbol on its tip. It was the crest of the Brotherhood of Steel. This intrigued the Courier. Last he heard, the Brotherhood didn't recruit Ghouls. Was this guy some ex-Paladin that survived a nuclear blast? Guess their Power Armor wasn't all that it was hyped up to be after all.

The Ghoul analyzed each of the heroes, his trigger finger twitching. When his eyes fell upon Cass, though, a warm smile grew across his weathered face. He sheathed his handgun.

"Welcome back, Ms. Cassidy," he said with a Southern accent. "Didn't think I'd be seeing ya again so soon."

"I told you I'd be bringing a nerd back with me," she replied, pointing at Six with her thumb.

The man's eyebrow- or at least the muscle it once rested on- arched. He reexamined the Courier up and down before putting on a baffled face.

"The cowboy?" the Ghoul replied. "A bookworm? You're joking, right?"

Six's eyes twitched at the word 'cowboy' under his Desert Ranger helmet. Sure he wasn't exactly a soldierboy or playboy, but a 'cowboy? Some illiterate fool that'd rather show off their big irons in grandiose displays -like cliched showdowns at high noon, singing at the top of his lungs, or drinking contests? Or was that a 'Ranger'? Nah, NCR has already laid claims to that word years ago.

"Vigilante," Six retorted.

"Pretty sure there's a Latin phrase for that sort of response," The Ghoul retorted.

"[Intelligence 8]'Nihil sub sole novum' are the words you're looking for?"

Cass padded the back of his shoulder like an elder sister to her younger brother. "Don't mind him," she said. "He hates those ol' western movies."

"Most," Six confessed. "I might have a soft spot for Johnny Guitar. Only thing I have in common with 'cowboys' is wanderlust. I just happen to be more of an intellectual."

"So were cowboys, believe it or not," the Ghoul replied. "Plenty of them were survivalists and farmers. Hell, even philosophers. Though I will admit that Hollywood did the umbrella trope a major dishonor during the Resource Wars. I blame the HUAC and Hays Code for the bullshit."

The Ghoul grumbled under his breath, something about 'emasculation'. "Enough about the stigma and bias towards the Wild West," he continued. "What can I do for y'all?"

Cass shoved the Courier forward in a playful manner. He cast an annoyed look at her before clearing his throat. "I heard that you've been gathering books and holotapes from out east," Six explained.

"That I am," the Ghoul confirmed. "Survival guides, history books, documentaries, blueprints and recipes, etc. Cass did mention having a friend with a thirst for knowledge."

Six rubbed the back of his helmet in a sheepish manner. "I'll admit that curiosity is one of my quirks," he confesses. "I consider it to be the best weapon in my arsenal." he held out a hand. "I'm Six, by the way."

"Where're your parents?"

"Very funny."

The Ghoul shook his gloved hand. "A little humor keeps the doctor away," he said. "Name's Douglas. Welcome to my shop."

The three of them stepped inside. There was a miniature bar at the end, with a cooking stove and brewing station behind it. Nearby were some prewar chairs and tables. The furniture was all a ruby red, with hints of white. What baffled him was that it all seemed relatively brand new, free of radioactive dust. Even the walls and floor- the former a solid white and the latter checkered- were spotless. The answer came in the form of a ruby-red Mr. Handy, its chassis resembling a Nuka Cola cooler.

"Top of the morning to you, sir and madam," waved the robot as it moped the floor.

The shelves were filled with all sorts of pre-war food. Cakes, sodas, popcorn, chips, beans, preserved fruits, jam. There were some freezers with meat inside. Deathclaw, gecko, radscorpion, molerat, dogmeat. There were several coolers with various beverages. Alcohol, Nuka Cola, Sarsaparilla, lemonade, tea, milk, even iced coffee.

Rex sniffed the air and started barking his head off. The cyberdog tried to run towards the tables but Six held onto his leash tightly. Something small hopped onto the bar stand. Something Six had only seen in pictures. His jaw dropped as his brain put the pieces together. There, right at the backend of the store, was a goddamned cat. A cat!

"Where…" Six began.

"From Boston," Douglas revealed. "Believe it or not, they still exist out east. Some Vaults allowed families to bring their pets with them when the bombs dropped. And even when they did, they didn't salt every corner of America with Rads. Some areas were relatively safe enough for cats to prosper, with ample food and people still looking to adopt them. Of course, I know some folk that can clone and splice one together too if you fancy playing mad scientist. Ain't that right, Cheshire?"

The cat meowed and rubbed its face against the ghoul's sleeve. It purred as he scratched its cheeks and chin.

"Cute name," Six remarked. "You a fan of Lewis Carroll?"

"My wife was. I was more interested in the Inklings in my heydays. Nice to see that your generation still appreciates literature, though."

Six dragged Rex away from the feline and walked into the garage. There were several workbenches around them. Some he had seen before, some he hadn't. There were some mannequins with clothes and armor too.

One of them was a noir-style trench coat, with a poster of a man touting a silver Tommy gun behind it. He had to admit, it was badass-looking. There was a set of heavy armor bearing the Brotherhood insignia, along with some matching memorabilia behind it. There was also a set of lightweight armor with a gasmask and camo paintjob. There was even a set of marine armor in one corner, with several metals attached to it.

But what caught his eye was the Power Armor on display. First of all, it was larger than any suit he had seen before. Second of all, it appeared to use the T-45 as a template. Then there were the lamplights on the shoulders and forehead. Finally was the yellow colorscheme and the giant servos at the end of the arms.

Douglas walked in with a chuckle. "Ain't seen West-Tek frames before, eh?" He asked.

Six shook his head. "Never seen a suit of Power Armor this massive before. This supposed to be for construction or something?"

"That particular one, kinda. But the frames in general, Nah. Ya see some folks thought that 'Special Training' was too expensive and time-consuming," the Ghoul began. "So they ran a little contest for a workaround. West-Tek won by revamping the whole system, building up a brand-new chassis. All you had to do was pop the armor plating onto the frame, step inside, and boom! You were a walking arsenal. A certain mining company wanted to capitalize on this, but that's a story for another day."

"Sounds like a double-edged sword," Six noted.

"Well yeah, some Raiders did salvage the frames," Douglas admitted. "but most didn't have access to the actual armor. Best they could do was weld together some crap over the framework."

Six walked over behind it. There was a valve handle on the back.

"I wouldn't bother," Douglas said. "Fusion Core ran dry ages ago."

"[Power Armor Training] This thing suit doesn't use Mircrofusion packs?"

"It can, but I've never been able to find one during my travels with that thing."

A disappointed sigh escaped from Six's lips. "You got any books at least? Or holotapes?"

"Well, my friends and I did collect some recordings and managed to make copies of them. Interviews, audio diaries, even some holo-movies. Of course, there're some old magazines and books too. You the reading type?"

Six nodded. The man smiled and beckoned him back to the shop. Just before they left the garage, Six tripped over something and fell face-first. Grumbling as he rose back up, he saw something sticking out of the floor. A hidden panel. The man emitted a slightly nervous laugh and stomped on it. Six heard something click and lock into place as the platform went down.

"Sorry about that," the elder apologized. "Damn bunker doesn't always shut itself all the way."

Six raised an eyebrow under his helm. "Bunker?" Six instinctively asked. "Why would-?"

Rex's barking interrupted his questioning. Six looked back at the hand that held the leash earlier. It was empty. He cursed himself and chased after Rex. The damn fool was chasing after Cheshire. Poor bastard was howling at the top of his lungs as he ran from the metal monster. The Ghoul joined in on the chaos, trying to rescue his pet from the cyberdog. All the while Cass was laughing her ass off.

Six finally caught up to Rex and grabbed him by the collar. "Bad dog!" Six told him. "Bad cyberdog! You don't go running off like that without me."

Rex whined and lowered his ears. Cass finally stopped giggling and took the cyberdog's leash. Douglas went into a door beside the brewing machine and placed Cheshire in some room. Probably his personal quarters. Six could've sworn he saw something, though. Something blue and yellow.

The man returned to the store and cleared his throat. He motioned for Six to follow him to a collection of vending machines on the eastern wall. He pointed at one with a locker.

"Just select an item and deposit the caps," he explained. "The dispenser will copy any data chosen onto a holotape. Of course, I have physical books too if that's your preferred media."

Six walked up to the counter and began browsing the menu. After a minute of browsing, some things caught his attention. Something that intrigued him. His hand stroked the 'chin' of his helmet as he examined the objects of interest. They were all plans and recipes for a number of things. Plans that included but weren't limited to; a Jetpack, a Plasma Cutter, a Gatling Plasma, a War Glaive, a Power armor station, and a Tinker's station. A number of new chems also caught his eye; Daddy-O, X-Cell, Day Tripper, Flamer Jet, Ultrajet, RadShield, Stimpack diffusers, healing salves, Addictol, different flavors of Mentats, and various combinations of different chems.

Six inserted the caps and watched as some slips of paper were printed out. His Pip-Boy scanned and uploaded each blueprint into its database. Some chems popped out of the machine like soda cans. He wasn't done shopping just yet, though. He saw some holotapes that caught his interest. One of them pertained to a group called the Minutemen. Weren't they a militia from the Revolutionary War? There was another regarding cryptids. Early sightings of mutations, perhaps. One more was labeled "Formation of the Brotherhood of Steel". That warranted a listen in Six's book. He purchased those among other things and looked back at the Ghoul.

"This is quite the collection," Six noted. "You must've done a lot of traveling."

"Oh you have no idea kiddo," Douglas replied. "Seen many things, met many people, killed many more… I've probably got enough of a lifetime to write an epic. But I've lost my appetite for adventures with my skin ages ago. I just wanna settle down and enjoy life while I'm still sane."

Six bagged his items and called his companions over. Douglas followed them towards the exit and shook the Courier's hand. "Pleasure doing business with you, kid," said the Ghoul.

"Likewise," Six replied. "If the fates let me, I might drop by here again in the near future."

The elder chuckled. "I'll be counting the days."

And with that, the trio exited the shop. The man locked the door and took out a comfy chair from a corner. Activating a fake fireplace and propping his feet up on an ottoman, Douglas was about to start reading The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn when his jukebox flickered to life.

Life is all there, older than the trees

Younger than the mountains, blowing back the breeze

Country roads, take me home…

To the place, I belong!

Douglas shut off the machine before it could continue. "Not today, pal," he said to it with a somber tone. "Not today…"

---

Date: October 1st, 1099

Location: Kazdel

Time: 3:21 PM

Several hours have passed since their dropship left the Ark. While they were hardly near the Kazdel border, many of its occupants didn't think it would take this long to get there. Granted, the Ark was sitting in the wastelands between Laterno and Rim Billiton. And though the landship could've brought itself closer to the fallen country, that would risk drawing the attention of the Yanese and Ursus Empires. After everything that went down in Chernoberg, -untangling the conspiracies surrounding Reunion- the last thing they wanted to venture anywhere near either country's turf.

The Operators found various ways to pass the time. Some of them traded banter and gossip with one another, others turned to their smartphones for some distraction or another. Music, social media, news, streaming entertainment, mobile games. Ceylon and Magallan both retreated into their books and notes, while Sesa and Jessica discussed the latest products in the firearms industry.

Schwarz was not in the mood for idle chit-chat. Recently she moved over beside Rangers to debrief with Franka and Liskarm. Ceylon was saddened by this of course. Even more so that she had to keep certain secrets from her. But it was for her own safety of course. Schwarz didn't want her to go through the same horrors she did.

Her mind drifted back toward Long Spring. Miarow's sacrifice, Drudge's gambit, Levi's experiments… and his pet project. Very few knew what went down in that madman's laboratory. What he had unleashed. Part of her wondered if she and Rainbow Team truly ended the nightmare, or merely delayed it. For all they knew, that thing could still be alive. And if it ever resurfaced…

She shook her head. No. That eldritch abomination met a fiery demise in the explosion. There haven't been any reports of monsters being sighted near the labs' remains in the aftermath. All of Levi's creatures had been hunted down and exterminated. She personally saw to it herself.

Franka's voice pulled her out of her train of thought. She looked to see the eldest Sniper in disbelief. It didn't take long for her to discover why.

"Lasers?" Rangers asked. "Plasma? This man possesses directed-energy weapons? That sounds like the stuff of science fiction to me."

Schwarz couldn't agree more and gave a quick nod. "Rainbow Team had some strange technology on hand," she recalled. "but nothing like what you're suggesting."

"That's not the only weird part," Franka said. "Apparently he brought a robot with him onto Terra. A cute metal eyeball that disintegrates people, according to Exusiai."

Schwarz blinked. No drone in Terra's history had that sort of firepower. Or at least, none that she knew of.

"And this level of technology is in the hands of a…" Schwarz paused. "What was the word you used to describe him?"

"A cowboy. Dude's got a duster and a fancy handgun. And a shotgun. And a sniper rifle."

"And all of them are firearms? His rifle isn't a blowpipe or a dart gun?"

"Nope. It fired bullets like a real gun. Shotgun supposedly had metal pellets. No originium in either one's ammo. Laser and plasma guns use some type of battery, though. Surprise, no orginium either."

"Have they been able to study those?" Rangers asked.

"Not yet," Liskarm answered. "They'll be delivering samples of the ammo to Closure for study while we're away. Unfortunately, a local mafia gang managed to steal some of the gear before Exusiai and Six raided their hideout and reclaimed it. It's possible they've been able to transmit their findings to their superiors before the attack."

"So someone could already be aware of our quarry's alien status."

"Or at least realizes that his stuff's a game-changer," Franka said. "Penguin Logistics is also doing some research on the gang. Apparently, they aren't Siracusean locals."

"They're not?" Schwarz asked.

"Nope. They're really a cell from a bigger group out west. My money's on Columbia."

Schwarz frowned. Drudge had connections to a Colombian company during the Originium Dust incident. Volvort Kochinski, if the papers they dug up afterward were correct. Could that same corporation be sniffing around for their Courier?

"Croissant had an interview with this stranger, correct?" Rangers asked. "Did she learn anything else from him?"

"Apart from some names sounding awfully similar to those mentioned by Rainbow Team, not much," Liskarm said. "Although he has made some… strange claims about his land's economy."

"Dare I ask?"

"His people use bottle caps as money," Franka said brusquely.

Rangers and Schwarz were bewildered by this. "Bottle caps?" Schwarz could barely contain her disbelief. "Our quarry uses bottle caps… as currency?"

"That begs all sorts of questions," Rangers adds.

"We're here folks," announced the pilot.

Sure enough, the ramp lowered itself, revealing a dusty old settlement. To the majority of the party, it was just a shanty town. But to Mudrock, it was a familiar sight. One that made her heart skip a beat. This one lost comrades- friends- trying to get to this place. And she was ready to die for the survivors the last time she was here. She wondered if any of them were still around.

"Mudrock here knows the area and locals," Franka explained to her team. "She's gonna catch up with them while we do some searching in the nearby ruins out east."

"Do we have any intel on those?" Schwarz asked.

"Just they're the ruins of some towns. Supposedly they're casualties of the civil war here. Think their names were… Staubstadt and Ascheufer? Something along the lines of those. Staubstadt should be relatively safe to travel through, but Asheufer's a literal biohazard. Apparently, it was a dumping ground for toxic waste during the civil war. Everybody got their Geiger counters on hand?"

Everybody nodded.

"Awesome. Ceylon, you stay here and start setting up some medical equipment. The rest of us are heading to Staubstadt. It's within walking distance, so don't worry about working overnight. We'll spend the night here and make another sweep in the morning. Any questions?"

Ceylon raised her hand. "Excuse me Miss Franka, but… where do I fit into all of this? What's my purpose if you all are out adventuring without me?"

"Our away team might need some patching up when they get back. And uh… no offense, but a dress isn't practical for walking around some ruins."

Ceylon lowered her hand. She got her there.

"Don't worry, you've got an entire village to keep you company. Speaking of which, some of the folk appear to be Infected. This is a great opportunity to hone your medical skills. Alright, enough talk. Let's get to work!"

Everybody split off. The away team ventured into the wild while everyone else ran to the village. Schwarz cast one last look at Ceylon before joining the rest of the squad. Sighing in disappointment, she looked back at the cargo. Most of it was standard medical equipment. Beds, IV lines, surgical tools. She walked over to the pilot's door and knocked on it.

"Excuse me, sir. Could you please lend me a hand?"

He didn't notice her. He had some headphones on and was playing some games on a tablet. She knocked on the door and politely asked for his help again. Again he didn't notice her. She lost her patience and started banging on it. Not even that got his attention. She pouted and began her grueling chore alone. No one to keep her company, no one to compare notes with…

Or so she thought. Mudrock walked past her without warning and into the dropship. To say that she had a heart attack was an understatement. She calmed down once she saw the Sarkaz unloading the cargo. Piece by piece she carried it all out, from a generator to several crates of supplies. She often forgot how strong Mudrock truly was.

When all the heavy lifting was finished, Ceylon went to work on setting up her makeshift lab. Microscopes, doctor's bags, IV lines, some stretchers, a couple of folding tables, a laptop. The last thing to do was to flick on the external generator and attach a solar battery to it. It'll at least serve as a backup in case the originium cell ran dry.

"Thank you, Miss Mudrock," Said Ceylon with a smile.

Mudrock gave a quick nod, then gestured towards the village. Ceylon followed after her. Something felt off about this place. They passed by some market stalls but most of them appeared to be closed. Whatever people were outside had their hands hovering over their weapons. There were even a few snipers and bowmen in some makeshift watchtowers, with working spotlights.

The people's eyes followed the broad figure as she walked. Most of them tried to hide from her sight. Others just froze up, unsure of what to do. A few in combat gear waved or even saluted her as she strode past them. She paid them no mind. She had a particular soul in mind right now.

After several minutes of fruitless searching, though, she was forced to ask strangers for directions. It took a few tries but she eventually found someone who knew her friend. The villager led them to a rundown house filled to the brim with beds. They were all full. Mudrock rushed to a sleeping Caprinae with pointed ears and originium shards on his right cheek.

"Brändle," Mudrock said, shaking his shoulder.

The man didn't wake. She shook harder, this time rattling the whole bed. That woke him up real quick. He rose up in a bolt, spinning his head around like mad and speaking at a pace that'd rival Shaw. When he calmed down and looked at his visitors, he blinked and rubbed his eyes.

"Herr Mudrock?" the Caprinae muttered. "Is zhat really you? Or am I still dreaming?"

Ceylon pinched his arm. "Oi!" he shouted. "Knock it off."

"That's a no then," Ceylon giggled.

Ceylon took a closer look at the Caprinae. His skin was rather pale and there were fresh bandages over his torso. An arm was in a bind while an IV line was hooked into his other one. Mudrock brought a couple of chairs over, setting them on each side. She and Ceylon picked their seats and plopped down.

The man grumbled before turning back to glance at Mudrock. "Didn't expect you to come back here."

"Neither did I," the Defender confessed. "But something urgent has come up. Do you know a 'Courier Six', by any chance? Or at least seen someone carrying a collection of firearms?"

The man raised an eyebrow at the question. "Uh, ja. Ve had a visitor with zhat name a few days ago. Strange kerl. Had scars on his forehead and asked us elementary questions. Didn't even know what the bloody hell originium was. Originium!"

The two women looked at each other with concerned faces (Or at least Ceylon's was visibility concerned).

"What kind of arms are we talking about?" Mudrock asked. "Which ones did he actually use?"

"A couple of pistols and a slightly larger gun. Latter had a curved clip, vas rapid fire. One of ze pistols spat vhis glowing green goop too. The rest are probably just trophies he collected. Why the sudden interest in him? Something happened to him?"

"You could say that. The Messenger I sent said that he helped her defend this village. Were those injuries from that fight?"

"Wha-? Nichts da! I took cover like any sane man during that firefight. Vhese came from a couple of days ago. My kumpels and I went to Staubstadt to scavenge for supplies vhen someone opened fire on us. Got a couple of bullets lodged into my back and one in me arm."

"Bullets?!"

"Yep," said another voice. "Genuine bullets."

The two ladies turned to see an elderly Sarkaz woman beside a patient. She was wearing an old nurse's outfit, bearing a worn-out emblem on her sleeve. Something resembling a mountain or a drill inside of a triangle. For some reason, it was giving the Operators a sense of Deja vu.

".308 rounds to be exact," she continued. "Haven't seen these since the civil war. Of course, Brändle here isn't the worst for wear today."

She moved aside so that the ladies could see her patients. Both instinctively covered their mouth as they saw his condition. Several portions of a Liberi- including half of his face- appeared to have been melted into fleshy lumps. An eyepatch was hung over the ruined side of his face. One of his arms appeared to be missing while the other ended in a webbed hand. The skin and nerves on the surviving limb were probably fused together. All of his hair and feathers appeared to have fallen off too.

Another patient- a Perro- was lying beside him. His condition wasn't as severe, but not a pretty sight to behold either. He was covered in various lesions, along with burnt skin. It looked like someone had placed a hot iron on him and left it there to sizzle. He was relatively intact, apart from some missing hair.

The third one-a Sarkaz- was the sickliest of the trio. His skin was dry and pale pink, much of which appeared to be blistering or even flaking off. Barely any hair remained on his scalp, revealing blistered flesh and scarred tissue. He was barely coherent, taking dry and raspy breaths. His eyes were just as dry as his throat. Several bloody rags and some soiled clothing were laying in buckets next to the bed.

"These three were with Brändle when shit hit the fan. Marius claimed that he was caught in a green explosion. Olegario said he got pelted with some red beams. Albert…"

She shook her head, trying to hold back some tears. "My son can barely even speak. His blood pressure's low, he's got a high fever, he refuses to eat, there's blood in his vomit and stools!"

She looked down and closed her eyes, balling up her fists. "He's just a mess. The most info I got was that he got hit by some weird yellowish glow."

Brändle nodded. "Whole thing screams of Arts if you ask me. Sniper fire, energy blasts. Must be some Casters hiding out in the ruins."

"Why would Casters be in Staubstadt?" Ceylon asked.

Brändle shrugs. "To pillage it, I'd expect. Plenty of Casters have joined up vith raider gangs out here. Wouldn't be surprised if that was the case. Still, for someone to wield a working gun…"

Ceylon looked back at the three patients from earlier. The son in particular stirred up several emotions.

"Would you mind if I examined these men?" Ceylon offered, pointing at Albert. "Perhaps I can get to the bottom of your son's condition."

The elder smiled. "Be my guest. Been a long time since a medical professional came along."

Ceylon rose and straightened her skirt out before running back to the dropship. A minute later she returned and sat a doctor's bag beside her patient. She laid out her tools onto a stand and took out some protective gear. She slipped on a facemask, a fresh pair of gloves, and an apron. Then she picked up a syringe and drew up something from a vial. She gave the instrument a couple of flicks.

"Hope they aren't afraid of needles," she teased.

Mudrock turned back to Brändle. "Did anyone else manage to catch a glimpse of Six's face?" Mudrock asked him.

"Plenty. You want someone to draw a picture of it?"

Mudrock nodded. Brändle blew a whistle with his fingers and someone came running. It was a younger Sarkaz girl.

"Ja, Bra-?" she started asking before her eyes fell onto Mudrock. She gasped and a couple of steps back.

"It's okay lassie," Brändle assured her. "She and the Liberi are friendly."

''She'?" she asked in disbelief, pointing at the armored figure. "What do they want with him?"

"Just a sketch of the gunslinger zhat came by recently."

The girl started casting looks between her and Ceylon. Mudrock reached for her helmet and removed it. Every villager's jaw dropped when they saw her actual face. Mudrock smiled softly as she leveled her face to the younger Sarkaz's.

"We believe that he is in danger," she explained. "But we do not know what he looks like underneath his helmet. We need to find him before he or someone else gets hurt."

The girl stood there, processing the information. She cast a look at Ceylon, drawing blood and injecting medicine into her friends. The Liberi looked back at her and offered a gentle smile before resuming her work.

"Okay…" she relented.

She picked up a pencil and started drawing on the nearest sheet of paper.

---

Date: Late December 1096

Location: Chernoberg

Time: Uncertain, conditions cloudy. Post-Catastrophe fallout.

Fire. Smoke. Obsidian. Grey Clouds. Crimson bolts. From an outsider's perspective, hell has broken loose. To the natives, though, it is simply a force of nature. A hellish force, yes, but natural nonetheless. Catastrophes are seen as the embodiment of chaos and destruction. They do not yield to anyone or anything. For obvious reasons, they inspire nothing but fear and dread. A select few admire this indomitable trait of theirs, though. One group went as far as to weaponize them.

Crownslayer walked along the streets of Chernoberg. Years ago, she was just as fervent a patriot as the average Ursus citizen. Sure, her Reproba blood earned her some ire from the local Ursine population, but her family earned a place among the scientific elite. Then they were betrayed. Her father died in an 'accident' while two traitors got away scot-free. She was sent to Siracusa to hide from the Ursus autocracy.

And ever since then, she stewed with anger and resentment. Anger at the world for her Oripathy, at Ursus for the slaughter of her father and his colleagues. She trained in the arts of the Wolf to grow stronger and obtain the power to enact her vengeance. Her mentor said that she wasn't strong enough yet, that Ursus was a monster not to be trifled with.

She and Reunion proved her wrong today. So what if the Emperor retaliates? He was a coward surrounded by backstabbing, decadent autocrats. Let them come! Let them taste the wrath of the Infected. Hell, let them become Infected. See how they fare with their bodies turning into living crystals!

The streets were drowning in the howls of strife. People trampled over one another trying to escape, police battling civilians and rioters. Many of them died screaming, begging for mercy. There wouldn't be any for the natives today. Not with their treatment of the Infected. Those who oppressed the Infected, those who turned a blind eye, or simply watched from the sidelines. They were all guilty. They had to be punished for their injustice.

But truth be told, that wasn't her initial reason for joining Reunion. Sure, it felt good to fight for the Infected, but it was never her main agenda. Her real goal was to hunt down the ones who betrayed her father. She had already disposed of one of them. She had to find the other. She had to reach his own employer, Kal'tsit.

A few days ago, a group calling themselves Rhodes Island snuck into Chernoberg to retrieve a mysterious figure. She had no idea who the asshole was, but she had a hunch as to who their co-worker was. From what her underlings told her, Rhodes Island has recently docked at Great Lungsmen. That's where she'll find the bitch.

She reached her rendezvous point. Ahead of her were the other lieutenants of the Reunion. The hulking Patriot, the mad Mephisto, the graceful Frostnova, the silent Faust, and great Talulah. Crownslayer knelt before their chieftain.

"Lady Talulah," Crownslayer greeted.

Talulah didn't smile. She hasn't in a long time. "What news do you bring me?" she asked.

"Nothing much. The cowardly chernonites continue their struggle against our righteous might. Those that haven't fled are in hiding or already dead. Morale among our troops is at an all-time high."

The woman's expression remained blank. "Excellent. Today we march onto Great Lungsmen."

"So soon?" Crownslayer asked. "What about logistics? Do we have any intelligence on the city and its defenses?"

"Of course. Do you take me for a fool?"

There was a strange hiss in her tone, like a sizzling flame.

"No ma'am," Crownslayer replied. "Forgive me, I spoke out of line."

"You were merely concerned, caught off guard. I cannot blame you for your reaction. But rest assured, I have taken every variable into account."

"Even Rhodes Island?"

Talulah's features shifted slightly. "...even them," she said. "We march for Great Lungsmen in three days. You, on the other hand, will infiltrate the city immediately. Rendezvous with our spies and maintain communications with Mephisto and Frostnova."

Crownslayer nodded and turned to depart when she heard a sizzling sound. She turned back to see her leader and the other lieutenants… petrified. She blinked and took a couple of steps back. Had they succumbed to their Oripathy? No, the substance coating them didn't resemble originium. It looked like… ash? One by one, the other lieutenants crumbled. Only Talulah remained, and not long afterward, she broke free from her prison.

Crownslayer's eyes widened as she stumbled back. Lesions started appearing over Talulah's skin. The originium on her body took on a green glow and warped into jagged shapes. Her skin was now brick-red and splitting open, revealing more emerald shards. Most of her muscle mass faded away, giving her a vaguely skeletal look. Her eyes lost color, reduced to fleshy marbles bulging out of their sockets. She looked like a goddamned zombie now.

Bat-like wings burst out from her shoulder blades, just as rotten and bony as the rest of her. Flames surrounded her mutated form, and she charged at Crownslayer. The girl broke off into a sprint and ran down the streets as fast as she could. The monster had taken flight and was throwing fireballs at her. Crimson clouds were forming around her. No, not clouds. A Catastrophe.

She tripped over something and rolled across the street. When she stopped, she looked up to see a figure in a gas mask. They were dual-wielding grenade launchers.

"Skullshatter?" She breathed.

The figure splintered into two. One had a slightly masculine build, and the other had more feminine features.

"Murderer," the twins snarled. "Our father was only trying to protect us, and you cut him down."

"He killed mine!" Crownslayer snapped back. "He was a traitor!"

"Is that the truth?" taunted a voice above. "Or just projection?"

Crownslayer looked up to see a diseased dragon soaring above. The voice sounded deeper and distorted, but she recognized it all the same. It was Talulah. She landed before the Reproba.

"You were rather eager to chase after Kal'tsit," The dragon noted. "You left these children in the hands of an unstable devil. You abandoned Faust and Frostnova when they launched their assault. You allowed Patriot to throw away his life in this necropolis. You even let Mephisto's puppets run amok in both cities. So tell me; who is the real traitor?"

Her men surrounded and cornered her against some ruins. They and the twins now had green spikes growing out of their bodies. Everybody removed their masks to reveal dead eyes and charred skin. The stench of ashes and rising temperatures besieged her senses as they boxed her in. They all charged at her as Talulah unleashed her fire breath.

---

Date: October 3rd, 1099

Location: Chernoberg core city

Time: 9 AM

Lyudmila awoke with a jolt. She was panting and sweating like crazy, eyes darting around the room. The memories came rushing back to her. Her return to Chernoberg, her run-in with Six and ED-E, the mercs, the Catastrophe. She clutched her head as that last one replayed in her mind. Nothing but vertigo and pain.

Oh yeah. She remembered. The Boar crashed. But how did I end up in… an ambulance?

She looked around. She was indeed in an ambulance. But the interior seemed worn out. She looked down to see a blanket over her body. A peek under revealed why; she was completely naked, save for the bandages wrapping around her torso and limbs. She impulsively clutched the blanket closer to her chest and looked around frantically. She glanced back down at herself. There wasn't any blood between her legs, and her hips felt fine. So she wasn't violated while she was unconscious. She found her clothes on the floor, next to some sewing materials.

A beeping sound caught her attention. That metal eyeball floated into the vehicle and beeped at her. She remembered that thing. It was Six's robot. What did he call it? Eddy? She clutched her blanket harder.

"What the hell do you want?" she snapped. "Can't you give me some privacy?"

The robot emitted some bleeps and bloops. She had no idea what the hell it just said to her. She noticed a tray with some bloodied tools on it. The table had a microscope and some test tubes. A slide had already been placed under the lenses. Probably the handiwork of her mysterious doctor. She had three guesses as to who.

"Where's your master?" she asked.

The robot drifted out of the ambulance van and pointed with its blaster. She slid off the stretcher and onto her feet. As soon as she took her first step, though, she collapsed. Hellfire licked at her legs and flared through her bones. She growled as she crawled across the floor, trying to ignore the pain. Just as soon as she reached her clothes, a light fell onto her naked body.

Stepping into the ambulance was Six. In one hand he had a wrench, the other a pistol. That PDA of his was emitting a bright green light, nearly blinding her. Lyudmila covered up her womanly features as much as possible. Her face was now tomato red.

"Gah! Duratskiy izvrashchenets!" Lyudmila cursed. "Keep your damn hands off of me!"

Six sheathed his weapons and held up his hands defensively. "Hey, hey, these hands are the reason you're alive," he retorted. "If I wanted to, I could've let you bleed to death in the car back there."

"You fucking stripped me."

"To get to the wounds and treat them properly. Seriously, that's medicine 101!"

"Then why aren't I in a gown, huh?"

"Do you see any lying around? I was just lucky to even find a clean blanket to cover you."

Lyudmila couldn't find a snappy response to that one. She growled and looked away from the wanderer. "Just give me some privacy for a minute," she requested.

"You just tripped and fell," Six noted. "At least lemme toss ya a painki-"

"Just. Go."

Six made a small 'tsk' sound. "[Lady Killer] Alright, hot stuff," he sarcastically replied. "Since you're such a badass-"

She threw a dagger at him before he could finish his retort, forcing him to duck. She was not in the mood for his sarcasm right now. Six sighed and skedaddled out of sight. The robot followed suit and beeped a coy series of code at him. She smiled when she heard a 'shut up' not long afterward.

She examined her clothes. To her astonishment, there was hardly any wear or tear on them. She had to squint her eyes to pick out the patches and stitchwork. Redressing herself was a slow process, but she eventually got her clothes back on. The pain subsided during the struggle too, so she was able to exit the vehicle without embarrassing herself any further. Six was camping nearby, sitting crisscrossed.

The first thing that caught her attention was the pieces of armor on the ground. She could be seeing things, but there appeared to be tech inside. Gyroscopes, hydraulics, shock absorbers. She'd seen stuff like that on Patriot's armor. What did the troops call it? 'Exo-skeletons'? 'Powered Armor'?

Among the pieces were a couple of brown suits with hydraulics and ports attached to them. Each one had a matching hood lying not far from them. But the thing that caught her eye was these helmets. One seemed alien, with buglike eyes, three tubes, a couple of bulbs, and a filter. Another was rounder, had a slit, two tubes, a headlight, and a drop-down optic. The former sent shivers down her spine, while the latter seemed more heroic.

Six was installing something into each of them. She looked down to see the dismantled remains of some hazmat suits. The same ones used by Ursus' Infected Patrol Units. Where the hell did he find those? Now that she thought about it, his suit looked a bit different. There was a tube connecting to his helmet now.

"What's this?" she asked, pointing at the dissected gear.

"Something I found in this APC," Six replied, pointing at an armored vehicle with a thumb.

She followed the finger to see an armored personnel carrier not far from their position. She raised an eyebrow. She didn't recall seeing any of those when Reunion struck.

"Been working on my gear while you slept. With the apocalypse above us, I figured now was a good time to upgrade."

"Upgrade? You mean none of… this was designed with Originium filters?"

"Nope. Their framework was designed with warfare in mind, not dealing with hazardous materials. How long does a Catastrophe last?"

"Beats me. I'm not a Catastrophe Messenger," Lyudmila replied. "Could be hours. Maybe days."

Six growled. "Then at least fill me in on the details," Six asked. "Where exactly are we going?"

"To the capitol building. My father's workplace lies underneath."

Six glanced back up at her. "Wait, under the capitol building? Your dad worked for the government?"

Lyudmila didn't respond. A minute passed and still nothing. Six sighed and resumed his tinkering. After a couple of minutes, something else occurred to him.

"Can we access his workspace from this level?" Six asked. "Or are we gonna have to go to the surface?"

"If you're asking about any hidden entrances, there is a bunker near the place. But if we can't get into that, then we have to try the front doors. That'd mean climbing back onto the surface. Are those the only hazmat suits in that carrier?"

"No, there's still some left. Go on ahead and grab yourself one. I should be done with the finishing touches by the time you suit up."

Lyudmila nodded and walked over to the six-wheeled vehicle. There were some crates inside. Some of them carried weapons, but their serial numbers were scratched off. Hastily, too, judging from the pattern. The one she was looking for held some suitcases. Opening one up revealed the signature suit of the Infected Patrol Unit. Her blood boiled just looking at it. Why was any of this here?

She shook her head. Now was not the time to let her emotions cloud her. She dressed herself up and walked back out of the carrier. She was a bit surprised to see Eddy picking the armor pieces with its tractor beam. She was even more surprised to see it stuff them into its chassis. The armor seemed to… shrink or disappear from her perspective. She shook her head and rubbed her eyes. Six must've noticed because he let out a nervous chuckle.

"How…"

"Trade secret," was all she was going to get. "You ready?" Six asked.

Lyudmila nodded. She took the lead while Six and Eddy covered the rear. The storm outside still rumbled above their heads. She prayed that it'll have dispersed by the time they reached the capitol building. With her luck, though, it probably won't.

---

Date: October 1st, 1099

Location: Staubstadt, Kazdel

Time: 4:03 PM

Franka didn't know what she was expecting when they entered Staubstadt. A band of raiders? An intact town? Nope. Just the remains of a warzone. Bodies of civilians and soldiers all around them, still retaining their tails and horns. Worn tents and rotting powerline poles stood proudly against the elements. Barriers such as barbed wires and sandbags surrounded the area.

It hardly resembled a town, much less a 'developed' settlement. No vehicles, no market stalls, no working power, no aqueducts or farms, no radio towers. Okay maybe the one on the outskirts counted, but it was rusty as shit. Much of the infrastructure needed to identify this as a settlement was either torn down or never existed. Just another sad reminder of Kazdel's impoverished state. And as far as the world's leaders were concerned, it was better that way. Franka couldn't help but pity the Sarkaz.

She looked at the assembled team before her. They had a mad engineer, Kal'tsit's personal hellhound, two explorers, a robot, a greenhorn, the world's deadliest assassin, a veteran lizard, and Franka's longtime partner. They were all chosen for this mission for a good reason. Time to put them to work.

Franka opened her pouch and handed a brownish vambrace to Projekt Red. "Red, give this a good sniff and start tracking. Sesa, accompany her."

The two Operators nodded and went off into the distance.

"Castle and Jessica, go check out the border between Staubstadt and Ascheufer. Magallan, spread your bots out and have them scan the whole town. Cliffheart and Schwarz, cheek out that radio tower we passed by. Rangers and Liskarm, take a peek in some of the tents. If you see anything out of place, radio me or Magallan."

Everybody nodded, scattering to the wind. Franka and Magallan propped up some chairs from a ruined house, dusting them. Magallan took a seat and brought up her PDA. Franka on the other hand wasn't in the mood to sit. She spent too much time cooped up in that dropship. She wanted to stretch her limbs, so she patrolled the imminent area.

Magallan occasionally looked up from her tablet to admire the skies. Some clouds were beginning to form in the distance. Her mind was conjuring up all sorts of images in her head, trying to find something to compare the phenomena to. A Burden Beast, Emperor's face, Surströmming, a snow globe-

A burst of static broke off her concentration. Jessica's voice popped up on her handheld radio. "H-hello?" she meekly answered.

"Maggy here," Magallan said. "Something wrong?"

"I… I found a dead body here. It's fresh."

Magallan raised an eyebrow and switched to another window on her tablet. It was a radar app, forming a crude map of the town. There were several pulsing dots on it, each with its own colorscheme. She tapped on Jessica's and with another push of a button sent a drone to her position. She switched on the machine's camera to get a good look at the catgirl and her quarry. She instantly regretted it and dropped the tablet with a gag, falling to the ground.

That caught Franka's attention. She sprinted off to Magallan's seat and helped the penguin-lass onto her feet. Just as she was about to ask what happened, her eyes caught sight of the PDA. And in that instant, she saw what disturbed her. It was a dead body, just a few days old judging from the rate of decay. What shocked her was the utter lack of clothes. And horns. And tail. Extra ears. And all those holes in its body.

Jessica gently grabbed the drone and turned it around some. There were more like it, each having a different skin color, eye color, gender, hair color, physique. Yet none of them appeared to have any indicators of their actual race. They were essentially blank slates. Well, apart from the varying degrees of injuries they suffered.

The majority of them had some holes in their bodies. The shapes hardly matched any arrows or bolts Rhodes Island has come across, let alone having the actual projectile lodged into them. There weren't any burn marks or anything of similar nature on them either. Franka put a hand on her chin.

"Bullet wounds," she concluded. "All of them were shot with real bullets. Jessica, have you seen any casings nearby?

"No," the catgirl confirmed.

"Then you might need to collect some samples from our Jane and John Does."

There was a pause. "You mean, with my f-fingers?"

"Unless you can find a better tool, then yes. Don't worry, you've got gloves on."

Jessica gulped. "O-kay."

Those weren't the only injuries on the bodies, though. Some of them were missing their limbs and/or heads too. There were some slits on some of the bodies too. The handy work of a sharp blade. Franka had seen that particular mark more times than she could count. But one thing was bugging her; why the hell were they naked? Now that she thought about it, where was their gear? Crossbows, arrows, swords. Any wanderer worth his money would at least bring some type of protection with them.

Jessica finished digging into the corpses and held out two bullet casings. One of them was 9mm, the other 5.56mm. Their quarry reportedly used the latter cartridge, but so did many others. Still, the bodies did somewhat match the description of the Courier. Could they have been from his homeworld?

"Jessica, Castle should have some bodybags with him. Grab a couple and bag two of the blanks. One of each gender."

Jessica nodded and called for the robot. Yet it didn't heed her summons, let alone answer her. Magallan commanded the drone to search the area, but all it found were some tire tracks. They just abruptly ended at the border between ruins. His transponder wasn't showing up on the screen either. Neither Operator liked where this was going.

"Jessica, stay where you are, I'm coming ov-"

There was a 'whoosh!' sound on the PDA. Static consumed the camera feed before it went dark. More of those sounds went off on the radio before it too went silent. Magallan's features darkened. Franka didn't bother to ask what the hell just happened. She sped off toward Jessica's position as fast as her legs would allow her. Magallan rose from her seat to give chase, but several more beeping sounds caused her to shift her focus. She looked back at the PDA to see a more disturbing sight.

One by one her drones' cameras went offline. One had crossed into Ascheufer and was struck down by a scarred hand. An equally warped foot and a snarl were the last things the machine picked up before it was seemingly crushed. Another window was flooded with a green light before it went offline. She heard a brief crackling sound in another window before static filled it. Then silence fell. The last one had its propeller shot off, judging by the 'whoosh!' and accompanying 'snap!' A boot crashing down was the last image it transmitted.

Magallan gulped. She glanced around nervously. She was utterly alone now, vulnerable. And an unseen assailant was quick to pounce on this opportunity. Something small and fast pricked her in the leg. She bent down and yanked out what appeared to be a dart. Just as she brought it to her face, vertigo kicked. She collapsed to the ground in a sluggish heap, barely able to keep her eyes open. The last thing she saw before the curtains closed was a humanoid shape waltzing up to her… and then its boot slammed onto her face.

---

Meanwhile…

Somewhere else within the ruins, Projekt Red and Sesa were conducting their own investigation. Under normal circumstances, Sesa would prattle away about some hidden Truth or power. Red wasn't that much of a conversationalist, of course, so he didn't bother to open his mouth. His mind was running laps around the world, though.

Franka had been kind enough to fill him in on the details of their mission. He was among the researchers that analyzed Rainbow Team's firearms and was the one who modified them. For him to accompany the squad that first encountered said group raised many red flags in his book. He was one of the few Operators privy to Rainbow Team's alien nature. To learn that another of their kind had made their way here- and was packing more firepower than all of them combined… honestly created a tsunami of emotions within him.

Fascination and excitement were the edges of the storm, while fear served as its eye. Terra's political theater was already on shaky ground. He and his brother were on the verge of creating an arms race with their research before it was 'lost' in a fire. The idea that some gunslinger was flashing alien technology around was even more concerning. If any of Terra's more ambitious cabals got their hands on it, reverse-engineered and mass-produced it… Even he shuddered.

Everyone presumes that he is a madman. To a certain extent that is true. Challenging the laws of nature and physics is part of his job after all. And while he loved some good fireworks here and there, he'd rather not set the world on fire. And he certainly had no intention of letting anyone else do so either.

Red stopped in her tracks and sniffed the air. She ran off into the distance without warning, forcing Sesa to chase after her. They eventually stopped at a clearing, drowning in junk and scrap. Yet it felt out of place for some reason. None of it resembled anything the local Sarkaz would use. Blocky terminals, electric hotplates, refrigerators, broken chemistry sets, intercoms, coffee makers. Hell, even relics like typewriters. There were also sinks and toilets lying around, but the records didn't mention running water ever being established here.

Sesa's boot bumped against something metallic. He looked down to see a strange, blocky slab of metal with a handle and wires. What the hell was that? Some type of rifle? He picked it up and examined the grip. There was a trigger on it, but he didn't see any slots for ammo. And though he wasn't skilled in the field of Arts, he could at least sense the originium in most firearms. Not on this mystery object.

He pulled the trigger. To his astonishment, it produced a red beam. He brought his hand over to the 'barrel' of the weapon. He could feel some heat around the tip. Maybe even some hot air venting too. He hovered his hand around the device for any more heat. The yellow cylinder was warm to the touch. He fired the weapon again. Same results. He sheathed the strange machine with his grenade launcher. He'll study it more when he has the chance. Right now he needs to find his partner.

Projekt Red was standing at a clearing in the town. There were several bodies and chunks of Originium around her. The former wasn't all that unusual, given the Sarkaz people's divided status. But the latter felt off, wrong even. They were giving off this strange green vapor or energy. Red's nose was pointing at the clouds, still sniffing. Resting in one hand was that brown vambrace. Her other one held what appeared to be a soldering iron. While the skeletons were nothing to write home about, the more recent ones struck him as odd. Most of them either had more holes than Leithanian cheese or some serious burns on their bodies. Actually, scratch that, some of them appear to have melted.

Sesa approached the young girl but ended up tripping over something like a buffoon. He looked down to see another rifle, this one bearing a more familiar shape. It looked like a carbine, not unlike some Sankta craftsmanship. But it was worn and scratched as if it had never been dusted off. The man didn't feel any Originium in it or its clip. He pulled the trigger as he aimed at some soda bottle on a rock. It exploded into glass shards.

This was from Rainbow Team's world. But what about the laser weapon? They didn't mention anything like that existing back in their homeland. Then his eyes caught sight of a third rifle. Well, more like a prop from a sci-fi movie. There was a bulb or vacuum tube where the barrel should be. At the bottom just in front of the trigger was a slot for another of those yellow cells. He aimed at some garbage and pulled the trigger. It was reduced to a glowing green puddle. Sesa's nose picked up a faint smell too. Was that ozone?

Sesa sheathed both weapons on his back and walked closer to Red. This time he was paying more attention to his steps. He didn't want to embarrass himself in front of his fellow Operators any further after that little stumble. He could make out some labels on that vambrace as he got closer; Pipboy. Model 3000.

Then his Geiger counter started clicking. He pulled it out of his pocket and began waving it around. It was getting a small reaction to the vambrace. It wasn't the only radioactive thing, though. Sesa followed his device to one of the strange Originium chucks. It was clicking even louder now. Sesa took a few steps back and ran back to Red. She was glaring at the sky when he approached her.

"Careful, little lady," he cautioned. "We've got a bit of a biohazard on our hands."

She didn't respond.

"What's the matter, red hood?" he asked. "Lost the trail?"

She kept staring at the sky. "Trail starts here," she said.

"Come again?"

"Trail continues into the sky. About a couple of meters above us. Strange man appeared above and fell from here. But…"

"But what?" Sesa asked once more. "Did someone else come along with him?"

Red motioned for Sesa to follow him. She led him to the remains of a building, probably an office. Inside were several dead bodies. Naked bodies. Sesa gagged at the sight.

"My god," he said. "How long have those been there?"

"Days," Red replied. "Maybe a week. Hard to tell in this environment. Temperature affects the rate of decay."

Sesa noticed something off about some of the bodies. While the majority of them could easily be identified as Sarkaz, the rest were a complete mystery. No extra ears or horns to identify their race. No tails either. Red pointed at another body nearby. This one was shriveled, to the point where it may as well have been a skeleton. There were several holes in its chest, plus another between the eyes. Both its hands and teeth were stained with a crimson coating. Sesa looked back at a featureless John Doe. There were some nasty-looking scratches on the chest, along with what appeared to be bite marks. Didn't take a genius to see what transpired over here. But where were their weapons and clothes?

The Lupo's head made a sharp turn. She crouched down and drew her knife, growling.

"Company," she whispered.

Sesa took position behind some rubble and drew out his grenade launcher. Red sprinted to the door and crouched again. She peeped over it and sniffed. There was a new scent here. One she hadn't smelled in a long time. It smelled like-

There was movement just outside. Sesa fired a grenade through the doorway before Red could warn him. A yelp sounded off as the explosive collided with something metallic. When the smoke cleared, a strange shield was staring back at them. It looked like a pinwheel fused from several lumps of stone or metal slabs. The strange thing though was that it was… fragmented. Yet somehow the shards managed to stay relatively close to one another, maintaining their greater whole's general form. Some form of magnetic field or Arts? No, not Arts.

Sesa had seen that shield before. And he knew who it belonged to.

"You?" Sesa asked.

A fiery red hand waved the smoke away. Before them was a Draco (or perhaps Lung?) with red horns and pearl-white hair. Her outfit was exposing a fair amount of skin, being a narrow tube top and shorts, red and white respectively. But the biggest point of interest was the greatsword on her back. Like her shield, it was fragmented, loosely held together by an unseen force.

Nian snorted. "'You'?" she quipped. "Is that the only word in your vocabulary, or have you already forgotten my name?"

Sesa looked back at Projekt Red. "I tried to warn you," she said. "But you were too quick."

Nian snickered. "That nerd's trigger finger is quicker than your mouth? Color me impressed."

Sesa clasped his fingers on his bridge. "What do you want, Nian?" he sighed. "And why are you here of all places?"

"Well I was looking for inspiration for my next flick," Nian began. "But then I saw my fanbase prowling about and got a little curious. And who do I find? Rhodes Island's junior mad engineer-"

"Junior- why I never!"

"And Little Red Hunting Hood sniffing around a scar in the space-time continuum."

Red's brows furrowed. Nian giggled.

"Surprised?" she said. "I do have a sixth sense, you know. Comes with being a fragment of a god."

"So you know about the fellows that fell from heaven?"

Nian made a small 'tsk!' sound. "Heaven? Please, they looked like they came from a post-apocalypse flick. With a hint of retro-futurism might I add."

Sesa tilted his head. "Retro-" he started before something clicked in his head. He reached back for the goop blaster and showed it to Nian.

"Bingo," she said. "Found doohickeys like that at the border to the next town over. 'Ash field' or something?"

"Ascheufer," Projekt Red corrected her.

"Whatever. The place was a dump. Seriously, I started feeling nauseous the second I set foot there. Was gonna grab a couple of those things and use 'em as props for my movie, but then some punks tried to jump me. You can guess how that played out for them."

"You didn't leave any of them alive for interrogation?" Sesa asked. "Did your prey happen upon or hear about a 'Courier Six' by any chance? Or a floating robot?"

"Nope. And I didn't hear anything about some delivery boy. Although…" she put a hand on her chin. "They did mention something about robots."

That piqued Sargonian's interest. "Oh?" he asked. "What did they say?"

"Not much. Sounded like they were hunting for some when-"

Something small flew past her elbow. She spun around and blocked a hail of bullets with her shield just in time. She then ran into the building and took up a defensive stance. Projekt Red took on a more offensive one while Sesa reloaded his grenade launcher. And they were all in for a surprise when their assailant revealed themselves.

It was a spherical robot, but not like the one reportedly with the Courier. No, this one was larger and had three eyestalks and three arms. One of the limbs ended in a buzzsaw, another in an SMG, and a pincer for the third. It had a forest green color scheme and a white star printed on its chassis. And the voice that came out of its voicebox was that of a stereotypical drill sergeant.

"Aha!" shouted the machine. "I knew I smelled Communists around here!"

---

Meanwhile…

It took a good minute for her to reach Jessica's position, but she finally arrived at the scene. It was more or less exactly as she saw on the drone's camera feed. But the catgirl was nowhere in sight. She did find the machine, or rather, its remains. She knelt down and began examining it.

While the machine was in pieces, she did notice some clues. First of all, there were traces of smoke or powder inside of it. She took up a fragment and brushed some of it off. It was an ash-gray, not unlike the smokeless 'gunpowder' from Rainbow Team's arms. Certainly carried their scent too. She also noticed something within the shard; a perfect circle. This was a bullet wound. And the projectile in question was lodged into another fragment of the chassis' shell.

Franka picked the piece up and plucked the bullet off. It was a .308 round. Something flashed in the distance ahead, briefly blinding her. She felt something- someone- tackle her as a gunshot went off. Her vision cleared to reveal Jessica right on top of her. Franka blinked.

"Jessica?" she asked. "What's going-?"

The Feline shushed her and helped her onto her feet. Franka was about to ask another question when she heard footsteps. Jessica led Franka into a ruined hut nearby. Both crouched around the door and risked a peek. There were two raiders inspecting their last hiding spot. One of them was a woman in leather armor with scraps of metal strapped on. The other was a man in heavier armor. Something seemed off about it to her. His helmet matched the descriptions of the Courier's robot. Then there were their weapons. The man had a sword while the woman had a shotgun. The former was covered in flames and gave off an audible hiss.

Franka's eyes narrowed. They didn't have any distinguishing traits on them. No tails, extra ears, horns. Were they part of the same race as the John Does Jessica discovered earlier? The woman barked something at the man and sent him towards the crumbling hut. Franka's hand fell onto her hilt. She motioned for Jessica to wait, the Feline acknowledging her order with a nod.

The bastard came charging in, but he failed to check his sides. By the time he realized his mistake Jessica tackled and pinned him to the ground. Franka hacked off his sword arm with her blade and brought it down on his neck. The lady outside heard the commotion and was running to his aid. Both girls slipped out via some windows and crept up on her as she inspected the fresh corpse. A bullet from Jessica dug through her neck and she slumped. She was dead before her body hit the floor.

Franka shimmied up through some nearby rubble and peeked her head out. A bullet whizzed between her fox ears, forcing her back behind cover. She looked back at Jessica. The greener merc pointed at her smoke grenades with an inquisitive look. Franka could see where this was going. She gave the girl a smirk and a nod of approval.

Priming the explosive, Jessica threw it over her cover. Their assailant tried to shoot out of the air but they missed. A thick smokescreen covered the area ahead. Franka and Jessica made a mad dash for it with their heads down. The sniper tried to splatter their brains out, but the cloud cloaked them from his vision.

The ladies burst out of the smoke and Jessica opened fire. They doubted any of them actually hit their assailant, but it did startle them. That gave the girls extra time to find cover. And as luck would have it, they were closing in on his. It was a two-story building, its purpose lost to the sands of time. And within throwing distance of Jessica's range too.

Franka caught another glimpse of light bouncing off. And this time she was able to trace it back to its source. She spotted movement in one of the broken windows, along with a barrel. The Vulpo pointed at Jessica's grenades and then at the window. Jessica nodded and primed another smoke grenade. Their assailant was in for a shock when it landed at their feet. They heard a scream as it detonated, followed by a coughing fit. Now was their chance.

The women charged into the crumbling ruin and up the steps. There was a silhouette in the smoke, trying to wave the smoke away. Franka wasted no time and tackled him to the ground. Jessica couldn't see much initially, just hearing the struggle between sniper and Guard. When the black clouds cleared, Franka was sitting on top of a man in rusted armor and leather garbs. He had his hands cuffed behind his back.

He was just like the first two; No extra kibble. Just some plain loaf of bread in a sea of pastries. But the thing that struck Jessica as odd was his reaction. His eyes were wide with disbelief, terror even. And the words that escaped from his mouth were in an old variant of Victorian.

"What the fuck?" he uttered in terror. "What kind of mutants are you?"

Franka raised an eyebrow. "Now that's rather rude," she said as she flipped him over and propped him against a wall. "Did your ma ever teach you manners?"

The man spat at her. "Manners," he snorted. "In a post-apocalyptic wasteland. Like that'll do any g-"

He didn't have the chance to finish his sentence. The Vulpo's fist came crashing into his teeth. There was a tiny splash of blood as a tooth went rocketing off out of the window. The man snarled as he glared back at the woman.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" he shouted. "What the hell are you?"

"Just a Vulpo girl that kicked your ass," she retorted with a smirk.

"A what? The fuck is that? Some new mutant race?"

There it was again, 'mutant'.

"That's the second time you called me that," Franka noted. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

The man looked at her in disbelief. "What do I- I'm talking about those ears and tails," he snapped. "No normal human has those. Not like you freaks. Wait, are those cat ears? I thought they went extinct centuries ago!"

Now it was Jessica's turn to speak up. "Extinct?" she said. "What are you talking about? There're still cats around the world."

She spotted the man's rifle and picked it up. It didn't resemble any that she had seen before. Nor did it feel as though there was any originium in it. She found an ammo crate and peeped inside. .308 rounds. Just like the one that destroyed Magallan's drone. She sensed nothing in those either.

"Where did you find these?" she asked, trying to muster up some bravado.

The man rolled his eyes with a 'tsk!'. "Out in the wastelands, fraidy-cat," he retorted. "Same as any other person on Earth."

"Earth?"

Now the man's face was screaming 'Seriously? WTF?'

"You know, planet Earth," he replied. "The place that nuked itself over two hundred years ago?"

Franka couldn't hide her confusion. "Nuke?"

The marauder lost his patience. "JESUS H. CHRIST, HOW FUCKING RETARDED ARE YOU MONSTERS?!" he screeched. "Nuclear warheads! The shit that splits atoms and poisons the fucking world with rads!? Have you been sleeping in those fucking Vaults or something? Did Vault-Tec grow you bitches in some test tube?"

He started taking in some deep breaths. After a minute of catching his breath, he looked back at his captors.

"Where the fuck am I anyway?" he asked.

"Kazdel," Franka responded. "Now where's Castle-3?"

"The fuck is Kaz-"

Once again he was interrupted. This time by a kick in the prized jewels. The man stifled a squall to Franka's disappointment.

"I'm asking the one asking questions here, bub," she retorted. "Did you happen to see a jet-black robot on wheels? Blocky as hell, looks like a boat?"

The man narrowed his eyes, processing the information. Then a dark chuckle escaped from his lips. "Oh, that thing," he replied. "I guess so. There was a weird-looking bot being dragged off by one of ours's. Didn't look like any I've seen before. Who the hell built that? General Atomics or RobC-OOOF!"

Franka punched him in the gut. "He's our robot, asshole. Now where the hell did you take him?!"

The man calmed up. That intrigued the Guard. "Why so quiet?" she teased. "I thought you liked having a conversation."

She drew out her blade and channeled her Arts into it. The blade began to glow a fiery orange as she brought it close to the man's cheek. He was stunned, paralyzed with fear. But it was hard to tell if it was of her, or of something else. She decided to bring the blade between his legs. She could've been imagining things, but she swore the spot between his legs took on a darker shade of brown.

"Alright, alright!" the raider confessed. "That trash heap was dragged up north to our hideout! To some old bunker we dug up. The boss is probably scraping him right now!"

"And who is your boss?" Frank asked, trying to ignore a pungent smell.

Again he clammed up. But she could feel him squirm around for a bit. She tilted her head to see him grabbing something from his back pocket. She was about to turn him around to examine his goods, but it was too late. The next thing she knew, he was on top of her with his hands around his throat. He let out a savage, deranged scream at the top of his lungs. One hand began pummeling her face while the other was choking her.

He wasn't this vicious earlier. His strikes were harder, faster, more frantic. He had a maniacal look in his eyes, cackling with each punch. She was starting to suffocate under his iron grip, her vision dimming. A gun sounded off and he collapsed on top of her in a heap. She shoved the bastard off to see fresh holes in his back. She looked up to see Jessica with her pistol out.

"I… I had no choice," she said. "I'm sorry. I-"

A howl interrupted her. The girls looked to see the bastard rising back onto his feet, still crazed out of his gourd. This time Frank was ready for him, though. With a thought and a flick of her wrist, she reignited her thermite blade and swung. His head went flying off into Jessica's feet, earning her superior a startled yelp. The Feline kicked the head off of her boot and back towards Franka.

The Vulpo sighed and clenched her aching nose. She felt something warm and sticky clinging to her gloves. A taste of iron slithered down into her lips and she frowned. She was gonna have to pay Ceylon a visit when they got back. She looked back at the spot she'd been interrogating him and noticed something on the floor. She knelt down and picked up two items, though her balance was a bit off thanks to her broken nose.

Jessica ran to her side and helped her back up. Both ladies looked down to see a syringe and cap for it in the Vulpo's hand. There were two vials and an inscription on the injector. The latter read 'Psychobuff'. An apt description for the recently deceased. Was this some sort of combat drug? Jessica took out a plastic bag and handed it to Franka. She replaced the cap and bagged the drug up.

Jessica's eyes caught something around the corner. She walked over and knelt down beside a box. A box of body bags. These must be leftovers from the civil war. She grabbed one and brought it to Franka.

"Should we bring him back for an autopsy?" she asked, pointing at the fresh corpse.

Franka nodded with a smile. "Can you do the honors while I call our friends?"

The catgirl nodded and went to work. Frank brought out her handheld radio and held it up to her face. Yet before she could speak into it, another voice popped out.

"This is Sesa. We've encountered hostile units and are pinned down. Repeat, hostiles have us pinned down! Requesting back-u-"

"Nobody's coming to save you, Red Menace!" shouted another voice.

Then the transmission ended. Franka cursed under her breath. She looked over to Jessica, who just finished packing the John Doe.

"Leave the body here for now," she ordered. "We've got some Operators under fire and one MIA. Go find Liskarm and Rangers. I'm gonna lend a hand to Sesa and Red. Tell your buddies to meet up with mine up north. We're gonna need all the help we can get. We'll come back for this John Doe once the dust settles."

Jessica nodded and the two stormed out of the building. Yet if either of them looked back, they would've seen a humanoid robot standing just beside the door. A robot that cloaked itself and ran off in the opposite direction. Towards Müllstad.

---

Meanwhile…

Magallan awoke with a groan and shook her head. At first, everything was a muffled, dark blur. Then her eardrums and eyes began to readjust themselves. She was in a dark room, constructed from worn concrete. Most of the furniture had all rotten away, save for some workbenches. And she wasn't alone. There were several individuals around her. Most of them were humans with leather straps and scrap for armor, but some stood out.

There were some robots among them, but she didn't recognize any of their models. One of them looked like a walking egg with a glass window. Another was a round orb with three eyestalks and arms. But the one that shocked her the most was this seven-foot-tall armored figure. It appeared to be some sort of mechanized suit, with scrap and salvage crudely welded over it.

The other thing that shocked her was the fellow prisoner beside her. It was Castle-3, his shell shattered and many of his components lying on the ground beside him. He didn't appear to be online.

"I'm telling ya, boss," said a goon in a Columbian dialect. "That tincan doesn't match anything I've ever seen. I've worked with General Atomics before the bombs, and let me tell you; this ain't their handiwork."

Her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting some more and she narrowed them. This man had some really wrinkled skin and beady black eyes. He didn't have horns or pointed ears like some races usually did. Was he a Vampire?

"Have any of our scouts reported back yet?" asked the armored titan. There was a gruff yet feminine voice behind it.

"Not yet."

The iron maiden muttered something under her breath as she crossed her arms. She glanced back at Magallan and noticed her lucid state. She started waltzing towards her with a sinister gait.

"Well well well, look who finally woke up," sneered the warrior.

Magallan froze up as the power-armored monster drew closer to her. "Strange company you keep," she said. "Rovers, flying ice cubes, mutants."

Magallan tilted her head at the last word. "Mutant?"

"You know, those freaks with the tails and extra ears. Hell, my bots just reported seeing a fancy-ass Deathclaw among you."

"Deathclaw?"

The withered man shook his head and facepalmed. "For Christ's sake, how dense is this bitch?" he swore. "Are you sure we're not wasting our time with a dimwit?"

The woman grabbed Magallan by the shoulder and lifted her up onto her feet. "Oh I'm sure she can answer this simple question," she hissed.

She grabbed her arm and squeezed down on it, causing the girl to wince in pain. "Where is my hubby?" the armored one snarled. "What the fuck did you do to my Jigsaw?!"

Notes:

Oh no. Not those assholes again. Yep, some of those raiders survived Six's initial slaughter-fest (or at the very least were fortunate enough that he didn't run into them). And they've got robots up and running too. By now you've probably figured out which band they are (or at least which one they're influenced by). And wait, Jigsaw had a wife!? Well, kinda. They're both raiders so they're probably not that faithful to one another. Still, even bandits can have standards.

So this chapter focuses more on Rhodes Island than on Six and Crownslayer. I had some stuff for them written down, but I thought it was getting a bit long for everybody so I pushed it back to the next chapter. Hopefully, that plotline will be wrapped up and Six can resume his journey to Great Lungmen.

And hey, Nian is here too. She's a wanderer at heart so I figured I could throw her in as well. That, and being a fragment of a god probably would give her a bit more insight into the situation than most Operators.

So next time around, shit starts to go down in Kazdel and Chernoberg. Six and Crownslayer venture into the dark heart of Chernoberg and deeper into the storm. Of course, there're still some mosquitoes buzzing around, and they're closing in on the necropolis' biggest secret. Magallan gets a few bruises and answers, first contact is made with the rest of her buddies, and another nasty surprise pops up.

Chapter 10: Crimson Colored Skies

Summary:

Every heart holds some secret.

Date: September 28th, 2289

Location: Eastern Colorado, Earth

Colorado. This state has been known for many things before the Great War. Its indigenous tribes. The Rocky Mountains and Great Plains. Tiny schools and sparse populations. The goddamned Dust Bowl. And having the misfortune of being within the Tornado Alley. But that was all in the past.

Maybe it didn't hold as much strategic value to the US military but certainly does hold some value to Caesar's Legion. 87 tribes united under a single brutal banner. Most people wouldn't dare to cross the Legion these days. But very few people know about the issues that plague its overlord.

Rumor has it that great Caesar has fallen ill. Or did he just lose his marbles? Whatever the case, there is a clear decline in the Legion's order. While Caesar has already chosen a potential successor, there is doubt surrounding them. Lanius may be the Legion's most infamous warrior, but he isn't exactly known for being a tactician or carrying a silver tongue. Some parties saw that as an opening to exploit. This group was among those ambitious parties.

Most people think of raiders as dumb brutes at best. At worst the average wastelander would call them vultures, opportunists. This particular band of raiders delved into an avenue often overlooked by their fellow barbarians; technology. Robotics, to be precise. They called themselves the Rust Devils, and they were expanding.

Okay, maybe they weren't the 'originals' per se. This gang considered themselves more akin to rebellious children of the parent organization. Someone approached them for aid in a little project of theirs. A project that would bring about technology the likes of which the world had never seen. Most of the bandit chieftains laughed at the prospect, thought that the messenger was high on Jet. Most raiders were these days.

Some souls saw potential in this alliance. The Rust Devils were crafty engineers, but they could only make do with what the wasteland provided them. The idea of wielding Brotherhood-level gear was rather enticing. Of course, there was the possibility that this mysterious 'project' could fail, or even turn out to be a giant hoax. But they still have their guns and robots. If their benefactor got any funny ideas, they could always disintegrate them.

And thus the Iron Devils were born. Jigsaw was the leader of course. He was as good with computers as he was with explosives and chems. His wife Millicent- or Milly for short- was the main muscle of the group. If something had to be welded together, stabbed, smashed, or punched, she was your woman. Then there was Bronte, their mentor and the eldest of the group. Being a Ghoul with nimble hands certainly had its perks. And finally, there was their liaison and smooth talker, Omar. He had connections to some… labor guilds.

Milly-clad in desert-camo heavy combat armor- was leading a squad of Iron Devils through the Colorado wastelands back to Pluto. Her sapphire eyes scanned the environment for any potential loot or ambushes. While the benefactors were gracious enough to give her this armor and scatter-laser, they still had to salvage for tech and scrap. For the project and for their own raids.

The majority of the band knew little of the benefactors' plans. Their leadership naturally was given some insight into their operations. Jigsaw had access to some sort of teleporter, supposedly developed by boogeymen out east. He would hop from coast to coast with it, bringing back supplies for their employers. But he had caught something during one raid. Some type of rock was growing out of his skin. Many raiders had been whispering rumors behind their backs about it. Some of them believed it was some mythological disease from the eastern mountains.

Regardless of its origins, it put a strain on the two's relationship. Before his infection, they'd partied like hell after each raid. Nowadays he was rarely-if ever- in the mood to spend time with her. Having rocks burst outta your skin would make anybody a tetchy asshole of course, but still… This was her husband. The same man that reduced a Legion Vexilliarii to a paraplegic and made him crawl back to his camp. To see him devolve to some trigger-happy recluse…

She snarled. Her mind turned to the resources they funneled into this job. Slaves, tech, robots, recruits, blood, sweat, tears. They could've been used to build their own empire, something that could compete with the Van Graffs or the Legion even. Instead, they and Jigsaw were rushed to the bottom of Pluto's belly for God-knows-what. This 'Project Hecate' had better be worth it.

Finally, they arrived at the hideout. Pluto Mine. Home sweet home… and yet something felt off when they arrived. The first thing that stuck out was the dead Legionary. He was still breathing last time she checked. Now he had a hole between his eyes. Bronte approached the corpse and examined it.

".308 bullet," he said. "Standard issue for snipers 'round here. But who the hell snipes at close quarters?"

That was a good question. Milly led the party inside and walked down the old mine. Long ago these veins bled out limestone. Now they were as dry as the wasteland outside. The raiders were careful with their steps, trying not to set off their own mines. But they never encountered any of them. Now she was starting to get concerned. She pulled up her handheld radio and tried to contact Jigsaw.

"Jigsaw, this is your honeybun. Do you read me?"

Nothing. Not even static. She walked over to the elevator and pulled out a jet-black keycard. One by one they inspected the rooms. The second level of the mine? Littered with dead dogs and robot wreckage. The depleted mine that Bronte spent weeks filling with Ferals? It had been turned into their grave. At least the Power Armor was still there. That was a gift from her hubby (and to a lesser extent his bosses).

The office? Well, the Robobrians were still rolling around at least. The raiders kept their distance from them of course. That was one breed of robot they hadn't managed to reprogram yet. Thus far in her search, she noticed something else amiss. Some miscellaneous items had vanished into thin air. Sinks, toilets, radios, chairs, tables, crates. Stuff that's either bolted into the area or just ignored by most wastelanders. Where the hell did they all go?

There was one more location they wanted to check out, but they had to put on some gas masks first. Jigsaw wasn't the first person to be infected with the rock disease. That honor belonged to their servants. It was funny watching them turning into living crystals at first, but then the plague jumped to fellow raiders. It was at that point that they realized they needed proper protection. Using masks alone probably wasn't as good as hazmats, but they were damn rare in this region.

The elevator dinged and revealed a massive tunnel. This was filled to the brim with robots and 'indentured servants'. Milly smiled and approached one of the workers.

"Where's Jigsaw?" she asked a slave.

They turned to face her and shrugged. She sneered as they went back to work and drew out her scatter laser. She disintegrated them on the spot.

"I'll ask again; where's Jigsaw?" She repeated, this time on the verge of bellowing.

Nobody answered. She pointed her laser gun at another slave but Bronte placed a hand on it.

"Woah there, Artemis," the Ghoul cautioned. "You know how much caps and blood we paid for good labor?"

She scowled at him for a bit, then that frown faded. She signed and sheathed her weapon. He was right. It was hard to find able-bodied wastelanders to slap Slave Collars onto. Even more so to find any slaver willing to sell their product to them. The Legion drove or killed off most of the competition when they came to Colorado, and they can be picky with who they do business. The few independent slavers who survived were forced into hiding and charged hefty prices for their products.

One of the Protectrons on treadmills approached them. "Lord Jigsaw recently returned with a large bounty of technology," it revealed. "The last I heard, he was integrating it into Hecate. Although…"

Milly's brows furrowed. "Although what?" she asked.

"My sensors detected a breach yesterday. Jigsaw reported that several Eyebots and Feral Ghouls had been slain by some intruders. Lord Jigsaw was disposing of them himself when the power on this floor failed. After it came back online, I noticed some items were missing. Indentured servants, fellow bots, tools, even lights. I've been trying to page Lord Jigsaw but he never responded."

She motioned for her crew to follow her back to the elevator. She gave Bronte a look that said 'do it'. The Ghoul nodded and drew out a crimson keycard. As soon as he inserted it into the reader, the gears above them awoke with a groan. The elevator began its long descent to the bottom.

This place was a gold mine of that black ore. At least a dozen tunnels were still filled to the brim with it. Several more were dedicated to housing their 'labor force' and a couple of labs. Two more housed bunkers for the actual raiders themselves. All locked away behind via a color-coded keycard of course. Milly didn't know whether to kiss the bastards that designed this system or kill them. At last, they reached the bottom of the well.

The first thing to greet them was a metal hallway with glass windows and sprinklers. The windows in turn revealed several terminals and desks. Two giant doors stood between them and her beloved Jigsaw. From the looks of things, this was a decontamination chamber. She looked at Bronte for an explanation (or rather a confirmation). The Ghoul could sense this.

"The original owners of the mine set this up after their first encounter with the local affliction," he explained. "They thought they could cure it. All they could do was numb out the pain. Everybody still got their masks?"

The smoothskins nodded. "Good, because I'd rather not have to pick that ore outta your bodies too."

As soon as the gas masks came on the man approached the twin doors. The first thing that caught his attention was the dents on it. Something big must've been punching it before they got here. Milly swallowed at the sight. Did some Mutant fight their way down here?

The Ghoul slid a card on a reader to the side and the doors slid open. Nobody knew what they would find on the other side. Jigsaw screeching and shooing them away? An army of Super Mutants? A giant robot? Little green men? Their answer came to them as the metal barriers slid out of existence.

It was a complete mess. There were slabs of rocks everywhere. Some of them were that weird-ass ore, the rest your typical boulders and stalactites. There was also salvage and tech lying around, though none that Milly recognized. She looked up to see a massive hole in the ceiling, allowing water to pour into the cavern. It was then she realized that there was a lake right under them. The ground they were treading was on a miniature island. From where she was standing, though, it may as well be a moat. She also picked up a strange smell from the water. It smelled like…? Salt? That can't be right.

The thing that stood out was the massive obelisk on her left. Or rather, the remains of one. It appeared to be made of the same material as the stuff that they were mining. The stuff that infected Jigsaw. There was a blood-red haze rising from its rubble. Surrounding it were stalagmites of the same mineral, yet they gave off a lime-green color. There was also the wreck of… some type of machine beside it.

Bronte approached the mystery object and fell to his knees. "My work…" he said. "The bloody satellite's ruined!"

"Satelite?" Milly asked.

The man rose back onto his feet and nodded. "Jigsaw recently stole a crashed satellite from a drive-in theater. Our benefactors thought we could use it to enhance our teleporters. I attached it to the relay node here just before I went out with y'all."

"So the rumors are true then? My hubby really had a teleporter?"

"Yep, and this is all that's left of it now."

Now he was snarling, hands stretched out like claws. For a moment his pals thought he had finally gone feral. Milly wasn't too concerned about that, though. She was more interested in all the bloodstains scattered around. Her eyes caught a glint as she inspected them. She followed it and found something familiar. Something that shook her to the core. There, covered in blood, were a ring and the fragments of a missile launcher. She knelt down and cleaned it off, revealing an engraving on it; Jigsaw.

She just stood there, unable -or rather refusing- to process the situation. She broke down into tears, then laughter, then a twisted mix of the two. She screamed and bellowed, cursing the world and slamming her fists repeatedly into the boulders. A withered hand fell on her shoulder.

"This can't be happening…" she whispered.

"Milly…"

"Don't you dare say it!" she snapped. "He's alive! He has to be!"

She pointed at the bloodstains. "Look, see? There's nothing under all that shit! No bone, no armor, no fucking bo-!"

A screech interrupted their moment. Everybody looked up to see Feral Ghouls dropping in from the opening. Some of them fell into the water, others landed on all fours. They all converged on the raiders.

"The fuck did they come from?!" asked a marauder.

Everyone looked at Bronte. He shrugged. "Hey, my lures aren't that strong," he retorted. "Must be a wandering pack."

"Who the hell cares?" shouted Milly. "Just shot!"

From there on out, hell broke loose. Bronte and Milly made it to the highest platform, wherein stood the ruined frame of a computer. Milly took out her scatter-laser and disintegrated any Feral Ghouls that lunged at her. While Ferals generally ignored their more rational cousins, that didn't give Bronte an excuse to sit idly by and watch them tear his crew apart. He lashed out with a recharger rifle, often aiming for the legs.

One of the raiders got thrown into the Obelisk by a Reaver. While the wind was knocked out of him, something grabbed him from behind. At first, he thought it was one of the monsters, but no. It was… the obelisk? A pair of tendrils were dragging him toward the monument. No, into the monument. It was absorbing him! The raider screamed at the top of his lungs, drawing the attention of Ghoul and man alike.

The Reaver from before was more interested in finishing him off. It lunged at him, but two more tendrils caught it. The beast howled and crawled at the obsidian extensions as they dragged it into its mass. The raider and Feral were both petrified-or was it 'calcified'?- by mucus-yellow energy. Their last moments- their agony and cries for help- were immortalized in obsidian for all to see. Yet those close by heard whispers. Whispers that just added the obelisk's victims to their chorus.

Then something strange happened. All of the mysterious ore in the cave started to take on a strange glow. A sort of atomic or sickening lime green. Soon the Obelisk took on the same hue and a pillar of light burst out from its remains. Then the light show took on a blood-red and unleashed a shockwave. All of the combatants- human and Ghoul- lost consciousness when it struck them.

---

Milly's log. October 1st, 2289

It's been days since the shitshow at Pluto's mine, and already I'm beginning to question my sanity. My crew and I unearthed this obelisk or totem or some shit. One minute we're fighting for our lives in an underground cave, the next… we're back out in the wasteland. Bronte said that it was some type of teleporter before shit the fan. Where exactly it sent us, I have no fucking clue. All we know is that there's seemingly a second moon up in the sky. Yeah, another moon. Everybody thought we were tripping, but so far it hasn't vanished. Maybe it's some Pre-War space station or something. I dunno.

It doesn't look like we were the first ones that got zapped by that thing. We've stumbled across some bodies and chassis, all of them from our gang. And we weren't the only passengers on the recent voyage either. Some Feral Ghouls followed us through and managed to tear through some of our buddies. We drove them up North towards this dump of a ruin but…

Jigsaw's missing. I found his ring among some bloodied rubble. His body was nowhere to be found, though. Either he got teleported somewhere or he was crushed under the rubble. Actually, scratch the latter scenario. There would've been a body to bury in that case.

We've only got like… what, over a dozen or two bodies and some refurbished robots? Between the strangers that trashed our hideout and the Ferals… morale hasn't exactly been high. So bad that some assholes tried to stage a coup against me. You can guess how that worked out for them. But the weirdest part of our time here was the locals. Dear God, the locals…

They're mutants. They've got animal ears, horns, hell even devilish tails. There's an entire village of them out west. Primitive, no signs of firearms or any tech at all. A pack of devils came by here sniffing around. Heavily armored, wielded nothing but swords and crossbows. Crossbows!

And the weirdest thing? They've been channeling blasts of black energy at it. Didn't feel like your usual Energy Weapons at all. Nothing like lasers or plasma. They were using these staves and little wands like some Grognak The Barbarian nerds. Luckily they weren't immune to lasers and bullets. Lost a couple of guys, though. We took a look at their energy weapons - if you can call them that- and what do we find?

That fucking black ore. The same stuff from our mines. The same stuff that infected Jigsaw. Somehow they managed to channel the energy inside into a focused blast. Other times, as incendiaries or even cryo shots. What the hell is this, some magic show!?

Still, these muties aren't cavemen. We've found evidence of a battle all over these ruins. Hell, we even dug up this bunker at the northern end of the area. Perfect place for us to set up shop while we gather intel on our surroundings. One of our scouts reported seeing crops in the village too. Could be worth a raid. Maybe we can even recruit some of the locals. They might know something about this super ore. If not, well…

We can always let off some steam and make something outta their bones.

---

Date: October 1st, 1099

Location: Kazdel

Time: 4:36 PM

To say that Magallan was having a bad way was putting it mildly. First, she lost all of her drones on this mission to some unknown parties. Then one of them captured her in uncharted territory and dragged her to some hidden bunker. And now their leader was beating the living shit out of her. All while demanding answers she couldn't give. Well, maybe a couple.

Turns out the chieftess' lover was infected with Oripathy. Explaining it to her had been… exhausting, to say the least. It's clear that they had little understanding of originium, seeing it only as a mystery ore. They also didn't know anything about Arts either. Hell, they couldn't comprehend the very concept of it. One of the raiders likened it to witchcraft or science fiction when she tried explaining it to them.

But they weren't just in the dark about originium and the industry. They had no intel on the world period. They didn't know they were in Kazdel or the civil war that occurred there. They knew nothing about the world beyond these ruins. Technology, politics, religion, medicine, science. They never even heard of fellow raider gangs like the Rusthammers.

The bandit chieftess and her zombie-like friend- A 'Ghoul' according to them- had their eyes on her as she tried to explain everything. She couldn't see the woman's expression behind that helm, but the ghoul's was clear. They were fish out of water and well over their heads. They certainly weren't making much sense with her either. Atom bombs? Mutants? Caesar's Legion? Great Khans? Brotherhood of Steel? She never heard of such things. And each shake of her head just riled up the mechanized warrior more and more.

"My fucking god, at least tell me which fucking state we're in!" the chieftess bellowed. "Arizona? Texas? West Virginia? Alaska? Wyoming? Nevada!?"

Magallan shook her battered skull again. She already received a black eye during the interrogation, courtesy of the bitch's servos. One of her shoulders had already been dislocated and her back hurt like hellfire. But she endured worse than this.

"I don't know what to say, honestly," she replied. "You might not be in 'America' anymore as far as I'm concerned."

The servos in the raider's armor balled up. Everybody could feel the anger- the fury- bubbling from underneath it. She was about to punch the Liberi again when two egg-shaped robots walked into the room. One of them had a worn teal paintjob. The other was stripped to its endo-skeleton and had all of its armor replaced with scrap. The pieces around its central processor in particular looked like the maw of some monster. The woman turned around to face them.

"Report," she commanded with a stern tone.

"One of our eyebots has spotted an unidentified aircraft at the mutant village," reported the Protectron scourge.

"Unidentified? You mean it's not a Vertibird?"

"Correct. No weapons have been detected either. They have, however, reported seeing medical supplies within and near it. Shall we procure them?"

The woman paused. Magallan held her breath. She knew exactly what the tincan was talking about.

"How many guards are at the village?"

"At least ten, four of which are stationed at watchtowers. All armed with bows and arrows. The other units carry a variety of different melee weapons. Shall we dispatch a strike force?"

The woman paused again, processing the information. Everyone could feel the gears turning behind that welding mask.

"None of those weird wands or staffs?" she asked.

"None that their optics have detected."

Milly grinned under her helm. "Been a while since we've had a good raid," she said. "I'll take a team with me while the rest of you defend the base. Tell the eyebots to wait for us before they start firing. What's the status of the Ferals, Zig?"

"Mr. Rot's.. Cousins.. Twice removed.. Are still.. Skulking.. Around the.. Ruins.. Up north," Stuttered the teal robot. "They appear.. To be.. Settling.. Down.. For the. Moment."

The Ghoul scowled at the egg-shaped robot.

"Boom! Roasted."

The raider sighed. The Protectron scourge raised one of its servos up.

"What about her companions?" it inquired, pointing at Magallan. "They are still an unknown variable."

"We already have eyes on them. And if they find our hideout, we've got a couple of guard bots at the front door. If you're that worried, you can join them if you want. Me? I've got a date with free loot. Zig, you and the stay here with the cunt and Bronte. I'll send an extra hand down here to help the old man with..."

She glanced at Castle-3's chassis. "Whatever the fuck that is. Try to dig up some info on her buddies while I'm gone."

"Of course.. Queen in.. Rags," uttered the other robot.

The raider and the scrapheap walked out of the room. Bronte crossed his arms and leaned against a wall with a grunt.

"Remind me why the hell I gave that tincan an Insult Bot personality matrix," Magallan heard him grumble.

"Because you.. Lot.. Do not.. Have.. A sense of.. Humor," replied the robot in question.

Bronte growled, cursing the drone's audio receptors. "Nobody asked you, Robby," he hissed.

"Ha. Ha. Ha. Finally. A wisecrack.. From somebody.. With.. Thick skin."

Bronte just clasped his fingers on the bridges and sighed.

---

Date: October 3rd, 1099

Location: Chernoberg core city

Time: 12 PM

Three hours. Three hours of wandering through an underground labyrinth. Three hours cooped up with an alien assassin that had the potential to mess with your VATS and Perception. Three hours of listening to meteors and storms bombard the city above. At least said assassin was willing to pass the time with the occasional banter or conversation, though. At least he had company to keep him sane and on his toes.

"[Intelligence 8] How the hell did they manage to keep the buildings from collapsing while the city moved?" Six asked. "Actually scratch that, how did the people keep their insides inside, or at least maintain their ground and you know…. Not fly off the platform?"

"Probably with originium," Lyudmila suggested. "Artificial gravity? A force field to keep out the elements? You can do all sorts of things with Arts these days."

Six raised his finger to argue, but he lowered it back down. He'd seen plenty of zany shit that made him pull his hair at Big MT. He wasn't surprised to see logic-defying forces here either. On the surface, her theories sounded plausible. A barrier would keep out the wind, and gravity can be grounded, warped, or bent. But the details also matter. That's where the devil is after all. His brain was probably going to burn out just trying to piece the logistics together, so he dropped it.

Their trip underground wasn't entirely uneventful, to say the least. They have come across old subway stations and garages and helped themselves to some loot. None of them dared to rest their feet, though. Not when there was the risk of running into the local fauna or some more mercs. Six kept glancing back at his Pip-boy's RADIO tab and motion tracker. So far both had been blank. He didn't know whether to be relieved or concerned.

Eventually, they came across a bunker door. It was covered in cobwebs and rust, with specks of dust. Lyudmila and Six each tried to pry it open but neither of them was strong enough. ED-E blasted it with his laser. No effect. Lyudmila tried to phase through it but she was thrown back. There was a brief flicker of crimson light as she rose back onto her feet.

"Of course they threw an Arts field over it," she growled.

Six put a hand on his armored chin. He ruffled his other one around in his bag and took out a bottle of Buffout. He could pop a tablet and try to turn the handle again. But then again, there was the risk of addiction. While he technically had Addictol and Fixit to cure that, he still hadn't figured out how to manufacture either chem. And there weren't any doctors with the knowledge to cure potential addictions either.

He slipped the chem back into his bag and examined the area. He noticed a device attached to the right side of the door and examined it. It appeared to be a card reader. He looked at Lyudmila and pointed at the machine. She shook her head. He sighed and examined the next side. There was a hole in the wall, large enough for him to put a hand through. He peered inside to see something resembling a fallout shelter. Bunk beds, a sink, miniature refrigerators, a coffee table, stockpiles of canned food, bookshelves, and even a desktop computer. It had a rather luxurious design to boot.

And standing on the other side were two goons in a conversation. He softly shushed ED-E and Lyudmila and leaned his ear against the wall. One of them was a sniper with three black dots and a yellow circle on his helm. The other was a figure with a gas mask and cloak. They didn't look like the same type of mercenaries he fought against earlier. Another faction, or just another squad from the same guild?

"Been a while since we heard from Epsilon," noted the sniper.

"They'll be fine," assured the gas-masked cloak. "It's just the Catastrophe jamming the comms again."

"Didn't some scavs roll up on them before we lost contact?"

"I think it was just an infestation. Whatever the issue was, I'm sure they handled it."

"But what about the earthquakes?"

"Earthquakes?"

"Uh, yeah. Catastrophes can pop up as those too. What if Epsilon got buried in those?"

"Then that means bigger paychecks for us. Speaking of which, what do you plan on doing with yours when this is all over?"

"A vacation to Dossoles, man. If the pay's good enough, maybe even a permanent residence there."

"Really? Why there and not, say, Siesta?"

"'Cus Siesta is a ticking time bomb. That volcano of theirs is bound to erupt sometime soon. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if it already had by now, and Dossoles is home to some real badasses. Nothing like the milk drinkers in Siesta."

Six pulled away from the hole and contemplated the best course of action. He could slip a grenade through the gap, but there wasn't any guarantee that the blast would kill 'em both. Even if it did, there was the risk of alerting their friends. Not to mention the potential to collapse the pathway's ceiling. He looked back at Lyudmila.

"Think they can open this from their side?" he asked her.

"Probably," she guessed. "Why? You gonna knock on the door?"

"Something like that. Switch places with me. I'll lure them out while you pounce on them."

She nodded and did as told. Six took out a holotape from his backpack and inserted it into his Pipboy. It was another album, this one composed and sold by Mr. New Vegas. And the song that he chose to play was Happy Times. The door swung open and both guards came rushing out to see him. Both of them were surprised when they saw him. Even more so when he had the audacity to wave at them.

"Howdy," he said with a smirk under his helm.

"Who the fuck are you and where the fu-" was all the sniper could say before Lyudmila sprung their trap.

The first mook had his spine severed by the girl's knife, instantly killing him. The cloaked one yelped as ED-E fired a laser at him. As soon as the laser struck, the man began glowing in a light that seemed to be frozen now. Six raised an eyebrow at the sight. He was even more perplexed by the moving rectangle on his motion tracker. Either it was glitching or-

A slash flew across his back. The Courier grunted in pain as he saw the faint outlines of the merc. The bastard shimmered in the dim light, rippling like water. He growled and fired back, but all of his shoots sailed through the silhouette. Just as it closed in on him, though, he heard another slash. It was Lyudmila hacking at the projection behind him. Tamed lightning buzzed around in the air before the cloaker flickered into view. He was cursing as his equipment fizzled out.

"Stupid, worthless, holo-!" was all he said before Six shredded his armor and melted his insides.

The humans sheathed their weapons and peeped their heads past the bunker door. Neither of them heard footsteps and Six's tracker isn't picking up movement. Six checked the pockets of their latest kills and fished out some loot. Among the LMDs and bolts was a keycard. Six smirked as the trio slipped into the shelter and closed the door back.

Six ejected and pocketed the holotape as he plopped his butt onto a seat. He propped his feet on an ottoman and leaned back. Finally, he can rest his legs.

"Nice place," he noted as he crossed his arms behind his head. "Must've belonged to an aristocrat or something."

"This is the Count's shelter, actually," Lyudmila revealed.

Six shook his head. The Count? Not 'mayor'? He glanced around at the bunker again to confirm this. Sure enough, some certificates and paintings were hanging around. All of the people in the latter group were some sharp-dressed Ursus.

[Perception 5] Most of the labels on the art had been worn away(or filed judging from the scratches), but one plaque was somewhat legible; Boris, 107X-Blank. He must've been the last mayor the city had before the Catastrophe buried it. But something was a little off to the Courier. Where the hell was Boris, or his staff or family for that matter? The only bodies he saw were the ones rotting outside.

Guess nobody made it… he thought to himself. "So your dad's resting place is right around the corner?" Six asked.

"Or at least the pathway to it is," Lyudmila replied. "Other than that, we're almost at his doorstep. Just need to climb up into the capitol building and descend down this secret stairway."

"'Secret stairway'?" Six notes. "Just what the hell was your pa working on?"

"Nothing the local count wanted the Emperor to know of," she said cryptically. "And certainly not the other nobles either. Chances are that we'll need some keys to proceed further. My best bet would be Se-" she stopped herself. "...the secretary's office."

Six crossed his arms with a tilted head that said 'That's it'? There was more to all of this than she was letting on. He was about to ask her a question when his Pip-boy picked up another transmission. It was the same signal as before. His eyebrows furrowed as Morse Code started playing.

Beta here, go ahead.

This is Alpha, we're almost at Sarcophagus. Have you heard from Epsilon?

Negative. Contact was lost when Catastrophe rolled in. They had engaged in combat just before that.

Consider them lost then. Maintain your position while we pry objective open. If Catastrophe comes, retreat to bunker. We leave once we've obtained a sample for our clients.

Yes sir.

The transmission ended. Six's curiosity was piqued now. 'Sarcophagus?' What exactly did they mean by that? Was it related to-?

He glanced back at Lyudmila. She had this strange look on her face. It seemed like she was worried about something. Hell maybe even horrified. That look of shock gave way to righteous anger. Her fists balled up as she walked up to the stairs at the opposite end of the room. Six's motion tracker kicked in and picked up some rectangles. There was company above them.

Six got between her and the exit. "Woah there, Mata Hari!" he cautioned. "You really wanna stir up the hornet's nest up there?"

"Those 'hornets' are about to defile my father's legacy," she snapped. "If I don't swat them-"

She shook her head and brushed him aside. As soon as the cellar doors opened, she summoned her Arts. Six heard someone bark something in a foreign language, followed by footsteps. The markers on his motion tracker turned red as they drew closer. Thinking quickly he pulled Lyudmila back and tossed a grenade into the smoke. He heard someone scream as it detonated.

Lyudmila broke free from his grip and charged. Six cursed under his breath.

"ED-E, REC and Q-35."

The Eyebot chirped in compliance and ejected both Energy weapons toward Six. He traded in his riot shotgun for them and watched the eyebot catch it with its tractor beam. If the elements have already seeped in, chances are that the winds might disrupt his bullets' trajectory. Energy weapons don't have to deal with those issues as much. With his blasters fully charged, the dynamic duo charged feet first into hell.

Six heard the sound of weapons swinging and flesh being flayed. Seems like his companion was already thinning the herd. But she did not account for the snipers and casters on the balcony. Six drew out the Q-35 prototype and ran up the nearest steps. ED-E followed him and covered the rear. Six took cover behind some furniture and flung hot plasma at his targets. Many of them howled as the gunk superheated their armor and burnt the skin beneath. The unlucky ones melted into puddles.

Some hounds came rushing to their masters' aid. ED-E's lasers made short work of them, but things got more complicated when the Infiltrators joined the fray. As soon as a bullet or blast hit them, they vanished and left behind holographic projections. Thankfully those didn't fire lasers of their own, but their creators had Arts and weapons. Just like before, destroying the illusions shorted out their cloaking tech, allowing the duo to vaporize them. Then the drones flew into battle and rained Arts fire on them.

Six and ED-E ran into the nearest room and hunkered down, dropping some frag mines along the way. Six toggled VATS and began shooting down the drones with the REC. ED-E's targeting systems had no issue tracking their movements and they mowed down the swarm. A defender walked into the room, carrying a hammer across his shoulder. He seemed to think that he could chug on through the minefield like a tank. He was wrong.

"ED-E, Anti-Material for Christine," Six ordered.

ED-E made an inquisitive beep as they switched sniper rifles.

"No need for stealth right now," Six answered. "Not with Mila running amok."

Six ran to the balcony as the smoke died down. He toggled VATS and selected the goons furthest from Lyudmila. He let loose, tearing through many hounds and mercs like a hot knife through butter. Now the survivors' attention was split between the aliens and the assassin. That gave their guide some breathing room and space to maneuver.

Lyudmila went on a throwing-knife frenzy. Mercs were being maimed by the blades in some gruesome fashion or another. Eyes slashed, hearts stabbed out, spines severed, throats slit, even a couple of decapitations. The ones with the heaviest armor endured of course, but Six drew out Annabelle and blew them to Kingdom Come. Lyudmila looked at the Courier with bewilderment. Obviously, she had forgotten about the missile launcher.

The town hall was drenched in blood, gore, ash, and goop. Six's ears picked up static, followed by a voice. He traced the noise to one of Lyudmila's victims and spied a radio on their vest. He plucked it from the fresh corpse and held it out for all to hear.

"Beta Leader, come in. Do you read me? Come in!" commanded the voice.

Six didn't know what to say. He hadn't heard the man's voice so he couldn't attempt an impersonation of him. In the end, he settled for dropping it onto the floor and melting it with the Q-35. Lyudmila had a fiery look in her eyes as she watched the device sizzle and crack. She pointed at a couple of massive doors and motioned for him to follow. Six complied.

The sign above read 'Secretary's Office'. There was a name plaque on the barrier but it was scratched out. Lyudmila just stared at the door. Six looked back at her and waved a hand in front of her face. She didn't seem to notice. Not until the Courier opened the door for her.

"Ladies first," he said with a bow.

She ignored him and walked inside. Six shut the door as ED-E flew in and looked around. There was a desk here, a fireplace there. A closet with some fur coats hanging up. Some more lay on the floor, seemingly thrown bookshelves dotted the room too. They each had some plaques on the top but he couldn't read them. They were in Ursus. Overall It was a fairly standard design for an aristocrat's dwelling. The White Gloves would've probably killed for a setup like this.

"Search the closet," Lyudmila ordered. "I'll take a look at the bookcases."

Six nodded, entering the space. ED-E waited outside for him while he searched the closet. It was rather cramped, to say the least, but he managed to wiggle around some. He felt along the walls and the floors, occasionally checking the pockets for anything of significance. The coats had nothing of importance, though. Six wasn't surprised.

[Perception 7] What did surprise him were the faint footprints on the floor. They were leading to the back end. He felt around it until his hands found a hidden panel. Pressing it down caused it to slide out of existence, revealing another card reader. Six called Lyudmila over and she came running. When she saw the device, she swiftly swiped the card through the scanner. The fake wall lowered itself, revealing a stairway.

It was pitch-black. Six took the front and lit the way with his Pipboy. ED-E followed behind him while Lyudmila covered the rear. More footprints lay before them. And they led to another underground bunker. Two more mercs were sitting there when they arrived. Six and ED-E reduced them to dust before they could alert their buddies.

It wasn't as lavish as the last one they discovered. If anything, it resembled a laboratory more than a shelter. There were some workbenches nearby. One of them had some old electronic components on it, while a chemistry set sat on a table. There was a makeshift station for… something. Power Armor maybe? He could've used that back at the garage. He made a mental note to reexamine his own suits once Lyudmila's 'quest' was over with.

They swung the next set of doors open to find two more goons. Defenders. Lyudmila phased through them just as Six tossed a frag grenade. The brutes took the brunt of the blow, allowing the girl to slash at their backsides. Suppressing laserfire from Six and ED-E cooked them alive. The enemy fell to the ground in burnt heaps, the stench of boiled flesh lingering in the air.

But they had no time to admire their handiwork. More of their ilk were probably dead ahead. They needed to move while they still had the element of surprise. And frankly, Six was dying to see what lay at the end of the road. What secrets Lyudmila was hiding. The answer was going to present itself soon. He could feel it.

---

Back in the past at Staubstadt…

Under normal circumstances, Sesa would be grinning like a hyena. He and his partner have uncovered new weapons to study. No, not just new weapons. A new power to harness! Unfortunately, another weapon has reared its ugly head and decided to use them and an old friend as target practice. And to make matters worse, this weapon had friends.

The metal eyeballs and raiders were swift enough to evade his grenade's blast radius. To make matters worse, they had their own stash of grenades. Some of them were your standard frags, while others exploded into this green light. Everybody could feel the heat from the latter category.

And the worst part? They couldn't maneuver around the enemy in their current position. They were holding out in a two-story building, surprisingly intact in comparison to the rest of the town. While it made a fine shelter in theory, it had no other openings. No back doors, let alone windows to look outside or shoot from. Plus it was goddamned cramped in here. Even Projekt Red had a hard time moving around.

Sesa would've blasted their way out by now, but there'd be a chance that they'd get caught in the explosion too. The best they could do was station Nian at the entrance and have her soak up all the damage with her shield and Arts. There was a little wiggle room for Sesa and Red to lob daggers and bombs, but just barely. The best they could do was give themselves a breather whenever possible. One of the raiders laughed at their predicament.

"What's the matter, muties?" shouted a bandit. "Can't handle the heat? You gonna squeal before we cook ya?"

If that raider weren't busy laughing her ass off, she would've noticed a certain Vulpo sneaking up on one of his buddies. She heated up her thermite blade and wrapped her arm around the bitch's neck. She rammed her sword through her back and out of her chest. The lady-bandit let out a guttural gasp as her lungs boiled. Franka allowed the body to drop to the ground with a thud. That caught her crew's attention.

"The hell did she come from?!" shouted one of the meatbags.

"Does it matter?" said the three-eyed robot. "Opening fire!"

Franka dove for cover as 10mm rounds and lasers soared over her head. That gave Projekt Red an opening to sneak out and climb onto the roof. Sesa managed to lob out a grenade behind two of the bandits. They were both sent flying by the blast. Red threw some knives at one of the metal eyeballs, ripping it to shreds. The surviving raiders panicked and scattered. The robot emitted a 'tsk' sound.

"Good-for-nothing greenhorns," it muttered.

The wolf-girl threw some knives at the Mr. Gutsy, but it easily strafed around them. Franka charged at another raider, using the armored corpse of her first victim as a makeshift shield. It was absorbing the shotgun pelts mighty fine, but it was also falling apart. Once she got close enough she threw the remains at the goon. That stunned him long enough for her to literally disarm him. His head was the last thing to fly off.

One of the eyeballs opened fire on her. Franka knelt down and grabbed the man's hunting shotgun. No originium in it or its shells. No surprise, no complications like with her world's arms. She hadn't had much training with firearms, but she wagered that this weapon was similar in principle to Liskarm's pistol. She loaded the weapon up and fired away. A few shells were more than enough to reduce the drone to scrap metal. To her disappointment, the larger robot was heavily resistant to it. At least, until Sesa splashed it with a glass-gas grenade.

Projekt Red chose that time to strike again. This time she got up close and personal, slicing off all of its optics. The robot went berserk as it went blind, leashing out with all of its weapons. While it was running around like a headless chicken, Nian closed in and bashed it with her shield, shattering its torso armor. Franka reloaded and fired at its arms, blasting off each one. As soon as the last one snapped off, though, it started to turn red and rev up.

Franka saw where this was going. "Everybody take cover!" she shouted.

Nian barely had time to kick in Iron Guard before the robot self-destructed. Everybody's Geiger counters were clicking like mad as the flames died down. Franka approached the remains once the counters stopped clicking and inspected them. Hers ticked back to life as soon as she got near.

"Nuclear-powered robot," she remarked. "Now I've seen everything."

She grabbed a sheathe from the dead raider and wrapped it around herself. She grabbed another one and a scoped revolver from her first kill and handed both items to Projekt Red. It was at that point she noticed the Energy Weapons on Sesa's back. She raised an eyebrow.

"What kinda guns are those?" she asked him.

Sesa simply drew the boxy-looking rifle and fired it at one of the more intact bodies. It left a visible burn mark on the corpse. He switched to a more cylindrical-shaped rifle and aimed at an eyebot. Pulling the trigger produced a glowing green goop that ate away at the chassis, completely dissolving it. Finally, he demonstrated the carbine on another corpse. Its left arm was blown to pieces after a mild barrage.

Once the gun show ended, he allowed everyone to feel each weapon. No originium.

"Just like Rainbow Team's," Franka noted.

"You mean the first offworlders y'all encountered?" Nian asked.

Franka blinked. "Where'd you-"

"Ran into them at Siesta a month ago," she quickly explained. "Had a different air than most folk. Same kind as these assholes."

Franka clasped the bridge of her nose with her fingers. Of course the fragment of a literal god would be able to see through their disguises. Then a thought occurred to her.

"What the heck are you doing here anyway?" the Vulpo asked.

"Looking for inspiration. Those bastards were ruining my vacation."

Red walked up to Franka. "Should we fill her in?" she whispered into her ears.

Franka didn't reply immediately. While Nian wasn't the most popular Operator at Rhodes Island, she was at least competent. She knew when to keep her mouth shut. And besides, her 'divine' origins granted her some insight into places beyond most people's reach. Franka sighed.

"That can wait," she whispered back.

She drew out her radio and held it to her mouth. "Attention all Operators, we have a hostage situation. Castle-3 has been taken hostage by a bandit tribe. Repeat, hostile bandits have abducted Castle-3. All Operators within the vicinity of Staubstadt are to report to me up at the northern ruins."

She ended the transmission and looked back at her fellow Operators. They had perplexed looks on their faces.

"Why would they be interested in Castle-3?" Sesa asked. "He's just a rover."

"Um, hello?" Nian retorted, pointing at the green robot's scrap pile. "Have you already forgotten about the drill sergeant and the floating eyeballs?"

"Not to mention that Castle is Closure's property," Franka added. "You know, one of our organization's pillars? He probably has some sensitive data in his hard drives."

"Oh… You say that he's being held up north?"

"Yep. In a hidden bunker."

"A hidden bunker? Color me intrigued. But that implies tight corners. My launcher won't be very useful indoors. Not with the risk of caving the ceiling on top of us. We could fall back onto these foreign arms, but finding ammunition for them would be a hassle."

Red raised her hand. "You won't need to fight inside," she suggested. "I can slip in and rescue Castle while you draw out the raiders."

Franka smiled. "I'm liking this plan already. Everybody ready to roll out?"

Everyone nodded. "Then let's get going already. We've got a robot to save and some asses that need kicking."

The gang ran off to the rescue. Not long after they departed, though, crimson energy began to swirl around between the stalagmites. At first it was a maelstrom, a hurricane of raw power. Then it started to take on a reptilian, almost demonic shape. The energy dissipated, giving way to a lone creature. A monster the likes of which Terra had never seen.

An apex predator had just been introduced to Terra's ecosystem. And it was hungry.

---

Meanwhile, near the border between Staubstadt and Ascheufer…

Jessica ran as fast as her legs could carry her. While she usually wasn't the swiftest person in Blacksteel, today was an exception. A gang of raiders was running about in these ruins. A gang armed with guns. Not crossbows, guns! This fact was enough of an excuse to make her panic. But right now she couldn't. Not while her mentor and squadmates were in grave danger.

She finally found Liskarm and Rangers among some tents and the wreckage of some old automobiles. Most of them were armored personnel carriers, not unlike what you'd find in Ursusine or Yanese cities. She could hear Liskarm's pistol going off, the sound of gunfire reverbing among the wreckage. But when she got the Operators in her sights, she was in for a shock.

She was expecting more raiders with guns, but this took the cake. Liskarm and Rangers were wrestling not with someone, but something. Creatures that resembled zombies. They were all shriveled up, with barely any meat on their bones. From her binoculars, she saw their milky white eyes and rotting flesh. It looked as if the skin had fallen off long ago. And she could've sworn one of them had a faint glow.

Many of them were already riddled with bullets and arrows, yet they hardly seemed to notice. Either their nerves were as dead as their flesh, or they were too berserk to even care. Jessica wanted to jump in there and help them, but she needed time and clarity to be able to calibrate her shots. She cursed herself for not bringing her rifle.

Wait. She did have one with her. She drew out the sniper rifle she looted from that stranger. She was going to bring it and its cartridges back to base for study, but this was an emergency. The weapon and bullets had no originium so she didn't have to worry about focus. They were at least just as lethal as her pistol, though, so she had to be mindful of her shots.

She elected to aim for the legs of the monsters. Taking a couple of deep breaths, she locked onto a target and pulled the trigger. One of the monsters had its leg sent flying into the air, toppling it over. That allowed Liskarm to separate its head with her shield. Another zombie had its arm shot off, briefly shaking it out of its bloodlust. It only had a couple of seconds to ponder before Rangers rammed an arrow into its skull.

Unfortunately, some of the beasts had taken notice of the Feline. Those monsters shifted their focus onto her and charged. She crippled their legs before moving to the center of mass, but something happened. A pale-skinned specimen suddenly unleashed a burst of lime-green light with a guttural cry. To her horror, the light show seemed to be healing them. All gunshot wounds sealed, limbs miraculously reattached. Her Gieger counter clicked as she backpedaled.

One hand fell upon her pistol while another on a smoke grenade. She dropped the latter onto the ground and watched as the monsters walked right over it. It detonated under their feet, startling and disorienting them. She used the opportunity to fire away with both guns. Most of them fell but one still stood proud. It was covered in metal scrap, some makeshift armor like the raiders. Her bullets bounded off of its hardened flesh and protective plating.

She didn't have time to ponder as a swing from its claw sent her flying into a rusty APC. Jessica felt her ribcage buckle as it pounced on and pummeled away at her. Something collided with its armored back, drawing its attention. Just as it twisted its gnarled head around, it was suddenly electrocuted. The creature spasmed and locked up, allowing its assailant to tip it over.

It was Liskarm, with Rangers right behind her. The old lizard fired some arrows into its exposed joints, pinning it down. Jessica shook off the surprise and fired away as well. Eventually, the beast went limp.

The catgirl let out a sigh of relief. "Th-thank goodness you two came along," she said. "That… thing would've pulverized me."

"We should be thanking you," Rangers says. "If you hadn't diverted their attention, they would've swarmed us."

Jessica glanced back down at the armored husk. "Wh-where did they come from?" she asked. "What are they? Zombies?

"From Ascheufer," Liskarm said. "But as to what they are, I cannot-"

She noticed the rifle holstered on her student's back. "Where did you get that rifle?" she asked.

Jessica gulped. "From… a bandit," she confessed. "He was firing on us. His friends had guns too. Pinned me down with suppressive fire for a bit until Franka came along. We eliminated his buddies and managed to interrogate him. He said some… weird things. Like he was raised under a rock."

Both of the older Operators had a concerned look on their faces. "That rifle, may I see it?" asked Liskarm.

Jessica nodded and handed it to her. She also gave it a clip for good measure. Liskarm closed her eyes for a moment and tried to feel something in each of them. Nothing. Her frown grew.

"Nothing," she told Rangers. "No originium."

Rangers looked at Jessica. "Did they happen to mention something about the earth?"

Jessica nodded. "But that's the least of our worries. They've got Castle-3."

"Castle?" Liskarm asked with a tilted head. "Why would they-"

A beeping sound caught their attention. The trio spun around to see a floating yellow eyeball some distance away from them. It had a grill crudely welded onto its front, several antennae stretching from its back, and a cannon on its underside.

"Isn't that…?" Jessica began.

Liskarm shook her head. "Doubtful," she said. "The reports mentioned it being silver and covered in license plates."

The robot emitted some negative-sounding beeps and flew off. The trio chased after it.

---

Meanwhile…

Cliffheart was used to venturing out into the wilderness. She was used to roughin' it out under the night sky. But then again, most of that was spent climbing mountains. Out here the only thing to climb was a rickety old radio tower. And its current occupant was hardly a conversationalist.

Schwarz was scanning the horizon from the widow's walk while Cliffheart was resting in the tent. The first thing she noticed when entering it was her Geiger counter clicking. It didn't take long for her to find the source. It was some battery in a trash bin, but nothing like she had seen before. It was damaged and leaking out some type of fluid. Whatever that gunk was, it was radioactive. She swiftly scooped it up in a lead-lined bag Franka provided everybody.

There was also a foul smell. She followed it to a bucket of… she didn't know what? Someone's stool or vomit. It had a crimson stain inside of it. Whatever it was, she threw it out and sanitized her hands with a wipe. Then she looked down at the bed inside. There were several crimson stains on the mattress. She looked under the bed to find a cache of medical supplies. These looked old, probably from the civil war. But some specks of dust had been whipped off. Someone used these recently.

Her cat ears perked up as they picked up something. A clunking sound. She darted to the drape cloaking her and opened it slightly. There were some footprints popping out of nowhere. No, not from nowhere. From Staubstadt. The trail circled around the area for a moment before something fizzled into existence.

It appeared to be a woman, judging from their silhouette. But something seemed off about them. Their movement seemed stiff, hardly fluid. There was also the sound of something whirring. Motors maybe? But the strangest thing was the red jewel on their forehead. It seemed to give off a subtle glow from her position.

The figure's gaze suddenly shifted toward the tent. Towards her. She scrambled towards the commander's bed as fast as she could. She hastily set up the blanket and crawled under the platform. She heard the curtain swing open as the entity marched into the tent. She subtly pushed a corner of the blanket aside to peek out.

Cliffheart blinked and rubbed her eyes. Standing in the tent was not a person, but a robot. A 'gynoid', if her understanding of pop culture was correct. That 'jewel' she saw was actually a giant optic, though she could make out two smaller ones just above it. In place of hands were some folding blades, ready to spin out at a moment's notice.

The robot paced around the room, scanning for who-knows-what. Herself? Probably. Just as it closed in on her hiding spot, some static crackled. It was her radio. She had left it on the table in her haste. And coming out of it was Franka's voice.

"Attention all Operators, we have a hostage situation. Castle-3 has been taken hostage by a bandit tribe. Repeat, hostile bandits have abducted Castle-3. All Operators within the vicinity of Staubstadt are to report to me up at the northern ruins."

She didn't wait to hear the full message, though. She was more interested in getting out of there alive. While the robot was distracted she sprung out from her cover and ran past it. The robot gave chase, arm blades springing out.

"Halt!" it ordered in a vaguely feminine voice.

Cliffheart didn't comply. She made a beeline for the ladder to the crow's nest. Unfortunately, that machine wasn't as clunky as she thought it was. It tackled her just before she could climb up, pinning her to the earth. Each blade had been lodged into the ground, trapping her neck in a scissor formation. The robot lowered itself so that it could better examine its prey.

"Scanning…" it announced. "Curious. You appear to be human, yet you possess attributes of an extinct mammal."

Cliffheart scuffed. "Who are you calling extinct?" She retorted.

"You, Ms. Fossil Fuel. I assume that radio belonged to you?"

"No idea what you-"

The robot stomped on her ribs before she could finish. "Don't think you can lie to me, bitch," it said. "I have a heart monitor installed in my chassis. I can detect and record any irregularities in your heartbeat. If I were you, I'd watch my tongue. Now, first question-"

Something embedded itself into its chassis. A bolt. The robot looked up just in time to see another flying towards its head. It dislodged its blades from the ground and leaped back in time to avoid a headshot. There- directly above them- was Schwarz. She didn't bother to engage in interrogations or witty banter like Cliffheart would, though. She just cut right to the chase and tried to pounce on the drone. It gracefully sidestepped the attack, leaping back again as she made a horizontal swing with her bayonet.

Cliffheart rose back onto her feet and gave the assassin a thumbs-up. She didn't receive a 'your welcome' or anything of the like, to her disappointment. The robot's eye began to glow like a bonfire as it charged at them. Both ladies dodged each of its jabs and swings, hacking away at it whenever they could. For something so skinny, it was rather durable. And it was swift enough to leave some cuts on them too.

Cliffheart whipped some fresh blood off of her cheeks, frowning. She ducked under another horizontal swing, just a few centimeters away from losing her Feline ears. Schwarz rolled back and fired a bolt at the robot, but a swing from its blade threw off its trajectory. The robot spread its limbs out and fired a laser at the assassin.

Both ladies scrambled to evade the beam. Cliffheart was sweating as it soared past her. Schwarz didn't have that kind of luxury. The robot had locked onto her, forcing her to pull off all sorts of stunts and crazy flips to avoid it. The tent burst into flames, with everything inside either catching fire or outright disintegrating. When the laser finally died down, she took in a couple of quick breaths.

The robot charged at her but was surprised to find something wrapping around its chassis. It rotated its head 180 degrees to see Cliffheart with her rope in hand. She yanked hard and pulled the gynoid towards her. The drone sailed past the Feline and into the tent's wreckage. This dazed it long enough for Schwarz to shoot off one of its arms. The robot growled as the limb fell.

Before the assassin could fire again, the robot vanished into thin air. She scowled as her eyes fell to the earth. Sure enough, fresh footprints had started spawning before them. Or rather towards them. Schwarz fired at the invisible robot, trying to follow its trail. A slash across the leg caused her to butt her crossbow at the assailant, but all it hit was air. As another trial appeared and snaked towards her, she kicked up some dirt. Some of it stuck to the robot.

Cliffheart knocked it into the earth, dirtying up the drone some more. Schwarz fired at the drone again, this time causing a severed leg to appear. The robot decloaked as its chassis collided with the earth, its largest optic burning like hellfire. And hell's gates opened when it fired the laser again. Both women ran a lap around the radio tower to avoid being vaporized.

A groaning sound caught all of the combatants' attention. All three looked up to see that the laser had partially melted the beams supporting the radio tower. And it was leaning in their direction.

"Oh crap," was all that escaped Cliffheart's lips.

She and Schwarz ran for it. The robot crawled after them at an alarming pace but it was no use. The tower collapsed on top of the robot, pinning it under rubble. Its first thought was to melt its way through, but the laser hadn't fully charged yet. It still had its arm blade, though. Perhaps it could cut its way out? It never got the chance to test that theory out. A bolt from Schwarz severed its head from its chassis, finally shutting it down.

The ladies let out a collective sigh of relief as Cliffheart investigated the tent. She happily clipped her walkie-talkie back onto her belt as Schwarz checked on the gynoid. It was as still as stone. Schwarz dismembered its corpse for good measure, though. She didn't want to take any risks.

"Are you alright?" she asked the younger Feline.

"Apart from some scrapes, yeah," Cliffheart replied. "I'm fine. What about you?"

"Same. Did you receive Franka's message?"

"That there's a tribe of bandits lurking around? Yep. Think we should meet up with h-"

An explosion interrupted their conversation. The women turned to see that some rubble had been thrown across the area by something underneath. It was a pair of cellar doors being blown open. And riding out of them were several offroad vehicles. Their occupants were howling like wild animals as they drove off. One of the cars- a pickup truck- seemed to be carrying a massive suit of armor in its cab. Someone opened fire on the duo, forcing them to scatter. When the bastards drove off they looked down to see bullet casing on the ground.

The ladies blinked. "Did you happen to see any wings or halos on them?" Schwarz just asked.

Cliffheart shook her head. "Nope. Those guys didn't look like Sankta."

They looked at the fresh tire tracks on the earth. They were heading out west. Towards-

Schwarz broke off into a sprint and went through the cellar doors. Cliffheart chased after her and found herself in a hidden garage. There were all sorts of wheels here. ATVs, UTVS, motorcycles, snowmobiles, jeeps. They were all offroaders. And Schwarz was already climbing onto a motorcycle.

"Hop on," she ordered.

Cliffheart complied and held onto the assassin for dear life. The duo sped off into the wasteland after the bandits. If either of them bothered to look back, though, they would've seen someone- or rather, something- else enter the area. Something that sniffed at the tire tracks and fresh blood. Its nose and stomach told it to follow the trail. And the creature was more than happy to oblige.

---

Back to the future, in the dark heart of Chernoberg…

Two hours have passed since they descended down the steps. Two hours of nothing but wandering in the dark. There wasn't much to write about the scenery down here. Just abandoned cargo, haulers, and the occasional rubble. But there were footprints ahead. Someone's been here recently.

Nobody spoke a word as they trekked through the darkness. For all they knew, they were walking into an ambush. Six's light may have provided illumination, but it also painted a target on himself. And there weren't many hiding spots or cover either. They and their enemies would be exposed. Six contemplated changing into some Power Armor, but he shot that thought down. He didn't want to show his hand to his current guide. Not when there was the risk of her backstabbing him later.

Eventually, they saw a faint light ahead. Six killed his flashlight and the humans crouched down in the darkness. Red Scare booted up in his helmet, lighting the world in a crimson hue. The trio crawled behind some rubble and poked their heads out. To their surprise, it was just a dead end. A dead end with a retinal scanner beside it. The screen was giving off a dim ocean-blue glow.

"This the place?" Six whispered.

Lyudmila nodded. "Or rather the entrance to it," she clarified. "I have no intention of opening the door, though."

"So you'll just lay some flowers or something there? And that's it?"

"I'd say yes, but… does something feel off to you?"

Six nodded in agreement. That scanner was still active from where he was standing. That meant there was power running. Someone was down here. He recalled Alpha's message to Beta earlier. They were closing in on this, weren't they? Where did they go?

"ED-E, toss me Sprtel-Wood," Six requested.

ED-E made an inquisitive beep.

"Because if this is a trap, I wanna be able to spin it against them. You and the Femme Fatale hang back encase I get swarmed."

The robot ejected the Gatling Laser and backpack onto the floor. Six crotched down and strapped the latter onto his back. Lyudmila's jaw dropped to the floor as Six picked up the actual minigun. She rubbed her eyes and shook her head to see if anything changed. Nope. She wasn't seeing things after all.

She remembered hearing stories of Laterano's Apostolic Knights carrying those in their capital city, but he didn't strike her as one. He didn't have the halo and wings of a Sankta, and certainly not the tails of their fallen brethren. Just who the hell was he? What the hell was he?

"...risovka," she muttered under her breath. Yeah. That would be the best way to describe him for now.

Six slowly walked to the end of the hall, his PIP-Boy lighting the way for him. As he got closer to it, something became obvious. The wall before him had been crudely bolted over something, probably a magnetic gate. There were some fresh gashes on it, with drops of molten metal still dripping. Six's muscles tensed as he looked at the compass on his HUD.

It happened so quickly. Several parts of the walls slid upwards, revealing at least a dozen goons. All of the classes they had seen in the city thus far were surrounding him, plus some new ones. Most of them had this crimson highlight on their attire, giving them this aura of authority. These must be the top dogs of the mercs. And he was cornered.

While the doors were still rising, Six toggled VATS and picked the nearest opening near him. He let loose with his Gatling Laser and instantly vaporized two of the goons. A dog with pitch-black fur and red eyes bit down on one of his arms. His aim was thrown off as it weighed him down, narrowly missing a cloaker. Six managed to shake the mutt off and disintegrate it for its troubles. He shifted his focus onto a three-eyed sniper next, but his charge pack dried up before he could finish him.

Six tried to back up and change Electron packs but he bumped into a grenadier. Like many of his collages, he had blood-red highlights. And he packed one hell of a punch. Six was sent flying into the makeshift barrier by his RPG, losing his Gatling Laser. The merc hacked away at the Courier with his sickles, leaving gnashes in his armor. Six managed to pull out his Ripper and parried a blow aimed at his neck. He severed one of the bastard's arms and then rammed his weapon into his guts. Unfortunately, it got wedged into his corpse, forcing him to abandon it.

A blast of Arts wrapped itself around him like a snake, forcing him to drop to his knees. He gasped and growled as the energy squeezed his ribcage. He looked up to see a towering robed Sarkaz with a crimson mask standing before him. ED-E flew to his rescue and began firing on him. Another Caster of the same class blasted and sent him flying through the smoke.

'ED-E has been rendered unconscious!' flashed Six's HUD.

Six blinked. These guys were that strong? Lyudmila conjured up a smokescreen and rushed to Six's aid. She leaped onto his captor and sliced off the top of his staff. The tether faded and Six rose back onto his feet. What he heard next wasn't something he'd expect from a mercenary.

"Crownslayer?!" the other man said in disbelief. "You've gotta be shitting me!"

And that was all he wrote before Lyudmila butchered him. That outburst intrigued the Courier, to say the least. That man clearly recognized her from somewhere before. What did she do to earn such a title? He'll ask her later. Right now the battlefield wasn't the best place for a Q&A.

Another caster appeared and roped Lyudmila up. Six took out his Plasma Defender and melted the Sarkaz merc into a glowing goo. The girl thanked him but he paid her no mind. He ran back to the Sprtel-Wood 9700 and reloaded it. He tried to bring up VATS but it was unresponsive.

He cursed his luck. He forgot about the little complication her Arts brought about. He fell back onto his compass for guidance, doing his best to keep his back against the sole orange marker on his compass. He didn't want to risk vaporizing his only key into Great Lungmen. His only ticket back home.

He tripped over his Ripper's victim trying to wade around Arts and arrow fire. He growled to see that it had been dislodged by the accident. He eagerly revved it up and yanked it out, just in time to block a blow from a swordsman. He used his free hand to draw his Plasma Defender and melt his opponent's insides. He sheathed both weapons and knelt down to retrieve his heaviest one.

Something- or rather someone- flew into him before he could. It was an unconscious Lyudmila, bleeding out on the floor. Something invisible pounced on him before he could check on the girl. Six could feel one hand trying to pry off his neck guard while the other pummeled away at his helmet. Both parties heard a familiar leitmotif playing in the smoke. And not too long afterward his enemy's cloak fizzled and failed. Six heard the bastard utter a curse before he jammed Chance's Knife into his neck. He was drowning in his own blood as Six shoved him off.

He crawled over to examine Lyudmila. Thankfully her injuries weren't as severe as the Boar crash. She just had some cuts on her was all. He injected a Stimpak into her arm and watched as the cuts faded away. Just as the young woman was regaining consciousness, though, something grabbed him. He was thrown out of the smokescreen and back into the dark hallway,

Six groaned as he rose back onto his feet. Waltzing out of the smog was one of those poncho-wearing mutants. Following them were red variants of the drones from the surface. ED-E flew to Six's side as the merc with a doghouse for a head approached them. The bastard drew out a couple of sickles and charged at him.

Six found himself on the defensive, dodging kicks, swings, and bombs. ED-E shifted his focus on the drones while Six kept the Phantom's eyes on him. One of those healing drones came to the merc's aid after Six crippled an arm with his Defender. That damned machine healed him faster than he could burn him. Hell, it seemed to have restored his arm to working condition.

Six growled and ran back into the smog to reclaim his Gatling Laser. While he found it, Lyudmila was nowhere to be seen. He heard something slash in the distance, followed by a fleshy 'thud!' He smirked as he recharged Sprtel-Wood. The grenade-lobbing drone barged into the smoke, but he had no issue blasting it. The other drone and its master appeared afterward. Neither of them took ED-E into account, though. That bit them in the ass as the eyebot reduced the AOE drone to scrap.

The cloaked figure however proved to be made of sterner stuff. He shrugged off every laser and plasma bolt that they threw at him. What perplexed Six was that the bastard was moving faster than before too. Six bellowed as a kick sent him flying over and behind some rubble. The Courier growled as he landed ungracefully onto the concrete floor. Once he propped himself back up, he took out his backpack. It took some rummaging, but he quickly found what he was looking for; Psycho.

Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't use chems. Even less so while he was stranded in a world that seemingly lacked the main ingredients for it. But right now it was either him or the local merc. He injected it into his arm and let out a snarl as the drug coursed through his veins. Six took out a frag grenade and rolled it to the merc while ED-E distracted him.

The resulting explosion knocked his weapons outta his hands and threw him off balance. Six used the opportunity to draw his prototype Plasma Rifle and fire away. While the blaster managed to burn away the cloak, the armor still held up. Six let out a frustrated growl as he ran through a whole MFC. He wasn't in the mood to reload so he took out his Ripper and slashed away.

Turns out that they were pretty skilled in unarmed combat too. He didn't need sickles to block the Ripper. In fact, he was able to disarm Six with a parry and force him into fisticuffs. Six had some skill in the field, but his opponent outclassed him. ED-E jumped in at his defense, but he got grabbed and pummeled into oblivion by the bastard for his efforts. When he was rendered unconscious, the merc just casually threw him over his shoulder like a piece of trash. That pissed off the drug-addled Courier real good. He threw out a mean punch but the poncho-man just caught it and spun its owner around. Within that same motion, he threw the Courier against a wall.

The merc strode towards him, cracking his fists and neck. Someone lunged at him before he could reach the Courier, though. It was Lyudmila, and she was stabbing away at his backside. Six retrieved his ripper and struck the goon in the leg, causing him to let out a yelp. That small cry turned into an agonized howl as the Courier sliced off said leg, causing him to fall onto the ground. Lyudmila ended his misery with a knife to the jugular.

ED-E rose back into the air with a grateful beep to the woman. She returned his thanks with a thumbs up as she dispersed the smokescreen. The aftermath was the same old for the Courier; blood, gore, dust. But something stuck out to him. There was a PDA on Lyudmila's latest kill. Six picked it up and examined it.

It resembled one of the handheld devices from Hoover's workshop. A 'tablet', right? It appeared to be a touchscreen like the personal phones the natives carried, with an optic sensor at one end of it. Tabbing it revealed that it still had some power left. Unfortunately, it was locked behind a passcode. And he hadn't figured out a way to hack into such devices yet. He still needed to study this world's Operating Systems.

Suddenly it started ringing and a name popped up on the screen. Mr. S. Before Six could ask Lyudmila for advice she yanked the device out of his hands. She collected some dust and blood, mixing them together and smearing the result over the camera. She slid a tab on the screen and a symbol came up. It appeared to be a pitch-black symbol on it, resembling a demonic skull. A southern voice boomed from the machine.

"Brimstone, do you read me?" it bellowed. "Have you found the Sarcophagus yet? Come in!"

Six looked back at Lyudmila. She just dropped it onto the floor and crushed the tablet under her boot. She gave it a twist for good measure.

"Well, that's one way to hang up," Six said sarcastically.

She didn't respond. Instead, she made her way to the retinal scanner. Six was about to chase after her, but a glint caught his eye. It was coming from a sniper's body. Six walked over and discovered the source of the glare. In the mercenary's dead hands wasn't your typical crossbow. In fact, it looked like a rifle. Six yanked the weapon off of the corpse and began inspecting it.

It seemed to resemble the sniper rifles of the Mojave for the most part, bearing the same paintjob and general build. But it felt lighter than its Earthling counterpart for some reason. A glance at his PIP-Boy revealed it to be merely five pounds instead of eight. He checked the ammo cartridge and was surprised to see bolts in place of bullets. Checking the deceased's pockets revealed that they also had round shots too. This wasn't a firearm. This was an air gun.

[Perception 6] There was also a word engraved on it. It was worn out, but he could still see the word on the plague; Scout.

He looked back at Lyudmila, who was kneeling before the barrier. She sat a bouquet at the retinal scanner. Most of which he only read about in pre-war books. Dark crimson roses, pink carnations, lavender, gladiolus, iris. She sat a book down in front of the bundle. The words 'Правда и справедливость' were imprinted upon it, but he couldn't translate the title.

Must be her pa's favorite book, Six concluded. Wonder if there's an English translation out there somewhere?

She bowed her head and began whispering. Was she praying? He walked closer to her as quietly as he could. Whatever she was saying, it was in Ursine. His brows furrowed. He really needed to learn the languages of this world.

Six's HUD picked movement to his left. He turned his head to see a figure disappearing into one of the hidden doors. Six followed them to discover a room filled with monitors and desks. Each screen was showing either static or some room or another. This must be the security office. And the largest monitor seemed to be caught in a loop. Six looked at the date on the corner of the screen.

23/12/1096

There was a strange-looking device at the center of some room. It resembled a pod or cocoon, like that of the Mojave's mantis. There appeared to be two factory arms or cranes beside it. There was a small group of people standing before it. A cold mist flowed out of the pod as it opened up. There was a robed figure stumbling out of it, but couldn't make out their features. A mask obscured their face, while the dark coat covered any potential tails or ears.

Their companions, on the other hand, were clear as day. One of them was a small girl with long animal ears and brown hair. They reminded him of images of the eastern coast's rad-rabbit. Another appeared to be some type of catgirl. 'Feline', right? There was another figure, this one heavily armed. None of them resembled the mercs he fought. The footage began to fast forward toward another date.

6/1/1097

A smaller individual was tinkering with it. It appeared to be a young boy, maybe in his preteens. His skin was pale and his hair a metallic gray. He had a strange-looking staff with him, with a floating crystal over it. There were some dark spots on his skin too. He must be one of those "Infected" fellows.

He eventually got the pod open and climbed inside. But what came back out wasn't human. Six could barely even describe the being that did. It appeared to be a crystalline bird, yet it dragged its wings across the floor. Something told the Courier that flight was outta the question for it. But the thing that stood out was its voice. It was singing, almost like a human. Six read about some pre-war birds mimicking human speech. Mockingbirds and parrots, if he recalled correctly.

It was… beautiful. But something about it was also uncanny. Something that made his hairs raise. And then another party entered the scene. Some were Sarkaz, others mooks in white garbs. All of them had massive blake spikes erupting from their bodies and they moved in shambles. They almost reminded him of feral Ghouls.

Another group entered the scene. All of them were dressed in the hazmat suits he discovered earlier. They fought against the obsidian horde and their avian master. Yet while they lay waste to the Infected Ghouls, they allowed the monster to escape. A screen to his right revealed why. Not long after fleeing, it finally collapsed under its own weight and disintegrated. He could make out the faint outline of a child's body as it turned to dust.

The smaller screen powered down and his eyes returned their gaze to the largest one. Now there were two figures standing near something best described as a warped cube. There was a distinct hum coming from it. One of them was a hoary-haired woman in green. She seemed to possess cat ears. Another Feline?

But the other figure… was the first person to emerge from the metal cocoon. And they were still human (or at least, by this world's standards they were). How the hell did they stay that way? Why did the kid mutate and not them? What the fuck was that contraption? Something that injected Terra's equivalent of the FEV into the user?

[Perception 6] It was at this point Six noticed the emblem on their coat. It was a chess piece. His understanding of the game was rusty, but wasn't that the castle piece?

The figure clasped their head and collapsed onto the floor. They reached out for the lime-green woman, giving them a shocked look on her face. She said something to him, but the audio was distorted. Anything that came out of either party's mouth was drowned in white noise. Then the footage started to rewind. Half of the date was glitched out, leaving only the year…

1094.

That robed figure was being placed into the pod now and was flanked by two women. One was that lady in green. The other had long brown hair like that child but lacked her ears. The way she cradled the stranger's hand implied a deep relationship between her and them. The camera's angle prevented Six from getting a good look at their legs, but from whatever glimpses it offered, they seemed pretty bloody. One of their arms hardly fared any better either.

The pod closed with a cold hiss. Sounded like it was inciting some form of cryo-stasis. The lady in green was walking outside of the camera's range. The other one lingered on for a solid minute. Then she took a sharp look at the camera. At the Courier…

And then she appeared right behind him. Six let out a startled yelp and grabbed the MF Hyperbreeder Alpha. He kept it leveled at her heart, yet she hardly seemed all that concerned. She just smiled and tilted her head. Six blinked. Either she was a hallucination or she was delusional. How the hell did she sneak up on him, though? His motion tracker should've picked her up.

She just kept on smiling at him, as a mother would to their child. Six's trigger finger was getting itchy but he refrained from pulling it. He didn't see any weapons on her so she shouldn't be of any threat to him. Yet she managed to waltz behind him unannounced and without warning.

"Who the hell are you?" Six finally asked.

She vanished into thin air. Six spun his head around in a frenzy, yet he couldn't find her. His motion tracker was detecting movement this time. Two orange squares. He could pick up the sound of something hovering as they got close. Six let out a sigh of relief and holstered his recharger pistol. Lyudmila and ED-E entered the lab.

"There you are," the former said. "I was wondering where you ran off to. You ready to go?"

Six didn't respond immediately. "... either of you happened to see another woman down here?"

She gave him a puzzled look while ED-E gave off a negative beep. "No, I haven't," the girl said. "Why?"

Six shook his head again. "No reason," he lied. "I guess I'm just jumping at shadows."

Then he yawned and stretched his arms out. Lyudmila chuckled while Six grumbled under his breath.

"Dammit, sandman's catching up to me," he muttered.

"Sounds like someone's been running from the sandman," she snickered. "What was the last time you slept?"

"Shortly after the crash."

"How many hours?"

"Uh, three?"

"And before that?"

"The hell do you mean?"

"You were sluggish back when we first met. Fatigued."

Six blinked. "How-"

"Let's just say some friends and I had some sleepless nights ourselves. How many did you lose?"

Six's hands balled up. They've only just met and she already figured him out. Not good.

"...at least two or three days," he confessed. "I've been on the move for at least that long. Didn't bother to take a breather during that time."

"Proklyatiye," she remarked. "You're either relentless or you're running from somebody."

"I told you. Something was taken from me."

"You never said what or by whom, though."

"For a damn good reason."

"And that is…?"

Six growled.

"Before I answer any of your questions, I've got some of my own," He retorted. "For starters, what was your father working on?"

"What does that have to do with-"

"[Perception 7] That door was welded shut. There was already a biometric scanner at the entrance, but someone took the extra effort to seal off the main entrance. If that doesn't scream 'desperation' or 'terror' then I don't know what the fuck does!"

Six moved closer to the native assassin. "What the hell was your old man working on? What were those mercs after? A bioweapon? Clones? Stasis pods? Cloaking technology? A goddamned nuke?"

Lyudmila's facemask began to shift. It looked like she was biting her lip.

"Seeing as how you rescued me from the Boar crash," she conceded. "I suppose I can entrust you with some of the truth."

Lyudmila motioned for Six to follow her back to the hallway. She positioned herself beside the retinal scanner and leaned her back against the wall. Six crossed his arms as he joined her.

"I told you before that my father died in an incident, da?" she said.

"Yeah? What exactly happened?"

She paused, gathering her thoughts. "You know how Originium is the dominant source of energy on Terra? Well, Chernoberg wasn't fueled by any of that stuff. The city's Count discovered this strange machine years ago. Something the likes of which nobody had ever seen. Something that could provide an incredible amount of power without relying on Originium. They called it the 'Sarcophagus'. And my father was part of the research group studying it."

"So what happened? Was there an accident?"

Lyudmila flashed a glare at him. "Accident? Hardly!" she snapped, banging a fist at the wall beside her. "My roditel and the eggheads realized that Ursus would've tried to weaponize the Sarcophagus. They tried to bury their research, but the Third Army's nose caught a whiff of things. They cornered one of Papa's friends and threatened his newborn kids. He turned to the Count for help but-"

"He was only concerned with watching his own back?" Six concluded.

Lyudmila nodded. "Father managed to seal the sarcophagus before the secret service arrived. But they couldn't save themselves. The sell-out- Sergei- was given the position of 'Secretary' by the Count as compensation for watching his comrades die. A friend of my father spirited me away to my uncle Siracusa afterward. But he caught the ire of a local mafia family shortly afterward, and they launched an attack on his business. A servant and I were the only survivors. She adopted me afterward."

"You had nowhere else to go?' Six asked. "What about your mother?"

Lyudmila grimaced. “She… kicked the bucket before Father did.”

Six lowered his head. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

Her other hand balled up into a fist. "The world shuns the Infected, sees us as nothing but a plague. A biohazard. Nobody wanted to be anywhere near an Infected girl like me. Not even the pimps. It was just me and an old maid with a lame leg. She taught me how to survive, how to fight and slip away. Then I heard of this militia back in Ursus. An Aegis of the Infected…"

Lyudmila shook her head and straightened herself upright. "But that's a story for another day."

She took out a piece of paper and placed it on the floor. Six knelt to examine it with the native. It appeared to be a map of the core platform. Several spots had been marked on the map, some of them under red X's. There were also some notes written on it, but it was in Ursine. Lyudmila tapped on one of the crimson circles.

"This was one of several safehouses my group and I set up before the fall of this city. If it's managed to survive the catastrophe, then its contents should still be intact."

Six's PIP-Boy flickered to life and scanned the map. The woman cursed at the sight of this while Six just looked on in surprise. She glared at him after the scan was complete. All she got was a nervous chuckle.

"Sorry," he said. "This thing can have a mind of its own sometimes."

No sooner than those words left his mouth it projected a holographic map between them. Six looked down at the Local Map to see that it had been updated. Several locations had been marked, but they were all using the Ursine dialect. Guess Hoover forgot to add some translators. The onboard programs didn't hesitate to write up a reminder of his objectives, though.

Follow Lyudmila to the safehouse.

Lyudmila mumbled something in Ursine. "Where the hell did you get that thing from?"

"From a damn good doctor," Six replied. "Mind if I search bodies first? I'd like to check for extra cash and ammo."

Lyudmila sighed. "Just don't take too long," she said. "We've both got places to be."

Six turned around and began combing through the dead's pockets. Apart from the occasional trinket and dog tags, there wasn't much to them. While it didn't take him long to empty their pockets, his mind kept drifting off to other places. There was something that bugged him.

Six glanced back at the entrance to the Sarcophagus. Or rather, at the retinal scanner. Whoever sealed the sarcophagus didn't bother to destroy it. Sure it can be argued that the intended users were long dead, but it was still a machine. Machines can be tampered with. Hacked. Yet it was still intact. Why? Did the old man hope for someone to pick up his torch?

Six looked at his Plasma Defender's holster, then back at the scanner. He could probably melt it with the Energy weapon. Deny access to anybody looking to enter. This world as it is just ain't capable of handling it like mature beings.

But what if they did reach that stage? A voice suggested. What if they grew out of their tribalistic squabbles and expansionism?

Six blinked. Was that-?

"Hey!" Lyudmila shouted. "Quit daydreaming and get a move on!"

Six shook his head. Now was not the best time to be having a conversation with himself. The Courier pocketed his goods and followed Lyudmila back to the exit. ED-E chirped something in binary, but Six ignored its quips.

Six glanced back at the Sarcophagus one last time. It had so much potential, and yet here it lay gathering dust and cobwebs. But in this world's current climate, it would be ripe for abuse as well. As much as his inner scientist hated it, it was better off down here than in some warmonger's arsenal. His world already burned because of unhinged jingoism. This one shouldn't suffer as his did either.

And he'll make damn well sure that history never repeats itself here.

Notes:

And that more or less concludes Six's quest in Chernoberg. Of course, they still need to find a ride out, but they'll cross that bridge when they get there. First of all, yes that was Scout's rifle back there. One of the mercs had the audacity to loot it off his body. Originally, it was gonna be Ace's shield and garnered a reaction from Crownslayer, but after Vigilo came onto Global, I scraped it. Why? Because of the timeline. Plus, it'll give Six more options in the event he runs outta bullets.

And then there's Priestess. What the hell was she doing here? Was that even the real Priestess, or at least her spirit? Or was that just another hallucination? Hopefully not an eldritch abomination or AI appropriating her image as a mask. Well, she is connected to the Sarcohpocus, so I thought I'd throw her in. Funny thing; originally Six was gonna find his way into the Sarcophagus this chapter too. His curiosity would've been to blame for any suffering afterward, but that was scrapped too. He would've gained some type of implant from the procedure, but I couldn't decide on what effect it would've had on the narrative. So that was thrown to the scrap heap.

And of course, Lyudmila is withholding her own share of secrets. Considering what Six discovered in that middle school, she dodged a bullet. At least for the time being.

Now onto the Kazdel side of things. First of all, yes, there are actually Rust Devils (or rather, an offshoot of them) in this fanfic. I placed them onto this roster of characters and factions early on because of their technological prowess. Fallout is rooted in science fiction, after all, and we'll be exploring RAW SCIENCE down the line.

So the next chapter will be wrapping things up on these dual plotlines. Rhodes Island finds itself caught between a robot rumble and a raid. Some Devil-on-Devil action and a daring rescue to boot! Oh yeah, and yet another unannounced arrival onto Terra for our Operators to deal with.

On the Courier's side… eh, just trying to escape from a necropolis with a magical storm above it. After that, some relaxation for our dynamic duo (or at least for the sidekick. Good luck convincing the main hero to take a breather) and maybe a skit or two. After that… Well, let's just say that the Mojave isn't the only place with wandering medics.

So yeah, happy Valentine's Day, and hope to see y'all next chapter. Later!

Chapter 11: The Devils You Don't Know

Summary:

While one gate is closed, another was left wide open.

Location: The Wasteland…?

Heat. Cold. Life. Death. Hunter. Prey. Day. Night. These have always been the constants of life in the Wasteland. The variables were too many to list, but nobody really concerned themselves with those. Especially not the local fauna- if you can call mutated wildlife and abominations of science 'fauna' that is.

As far as Deathclaws were concerned, everything simply was. Flying metal teeth were metal teeth. Roars of flames were flames. Flesh and bone were flesh and bone. Food was food. But this… this smelled different. Alien. New.

A few days ago a pack of them had been confronted by an unknown force. A crimson sky and a shower of green lightning bolts appeared over their usual hunting grounds. This phenomenon startled their prey and made them scatter. The pack has been forced to venture beyond their territory for food since then. One of them was tracking some potential prey when the world changed. A green hue consumed its vision and it found itself in a new set of ruins.

At first glance, this was the same land that it knew. But the soil and air felt different. The invisible warmth- the poison of Man- was nowhere to be found. And speaking of Man, even those scrawny creatures felt off. It recognized their scent anywhere, but it was just as warped as the land around it. There were scents and elements it had never smelled before. Many things it couldn't name. And they had extra appendages too, things like tails and ears.

But there was a constant here; battle. War. It heard gunfire and the humans' battle cries. It heard blades swinging and tinmen rolling or waddling along. It even picked up the screeches of the rotting husks. All of these provided ample opportunities to feed. It could wait out the chaos and let the prey wear each other down. Then it would strike and feast on the victors' bones. Strange or not, humanity should taste all the same.

It sniffed around on the ground for other prey. It quickly discovered a patch of blood. It had already dried up days ago, but the scent was still fresh. Something was injured recently. One of the trails- the bleeders- smelled like someone at death's door. Perfect.

It looked back at the ongoing chaos. The anomalies were already pushing the normies back to their lair. Their tin hounds were being torn asunder by their raw might. The beast snarled. Deathclaws were apex predators, but even they can be crushed under the weight of a swarm. It was outnumbered and they were an unknown variable. With a huff and a growling stomach, it ran to the east.

---

Date: October 1st, 1099

Location: Staubstadt

Time: 4:50 PM

In the opposite direction, another party was conducting their own hunt. Projekt Red took the lead with her nose while her teammates flanked her. Nian covered her rear whereas Sesa and Franka watched her sides. As an extra precaution, everyone was carrying some alien weapon or another. Red had a hunting revolver, Sesa had the goop rifle and assault carbine, Nian the laser one, and Franka had a hunting shotgun. The majority of them didn't have Blacksteel training, but firearms were similar enough to crossbows that they quickly got the gist of handling them.

It was hardly difficult for Red to pick up Castle-3's scent. That unit reeked of oil, fumes, and rubber. The real trick was finding the entrance to their hideout without getting her head blown off. Just because her senses and reaction time were greater than her partners' didn't mean that she was invincible. At least she got friends to check for blind spots. At least she had backup.

Their hunt took them to the remains of another two-story building. One surrounded by several dead bodies. Most of them were mutilated in some form or another. Some were just heads on pikes. Some were Sarkaz, others offworlders. A few of them were those zombie-like creatures. Many of them were hamstrung in wires or crucified on the outer wall. Judging from the rate of decay, they've all been here for several days (assuming that the desert days and nights didn't disrupt said process). Everybody gagged at the sight, trying to contain their brunch.

"By Sui," Nian swore. "I've run into many bandit tribes but this…"

Red found the stench of death to be overwhelming. "This is their lair," she growled. "Don't need a nose to see that."

Franka swallowed, glancing around for the rest of her squadmates. None of them had arrived yet. She frowned. Hopefully, they'll find their way here soon… and hold onto their stomachs too.

Geez, she thought to herself. Even the Rusthammers aren't this brutal.

"Can you still smell Castle?" she asked their resident tracker. "Or at least his kidnappers?"

The tracker in question shook her head. "Too much death," she replied. "Hard to pick out the living among them."

"Then let's split up, gang. If you see a path forward or anything unusual, howler. Someone will rush over to ya."

Everybody nodded. Franka took up position at the (presumably) front entrance while Nian and Red ventured inside. Sesa decided to circle around the outside for any potential clues. It didn't take long for the duo to find a stairway to the second floor. Projekt Red went upwards while Nian continued exploring the first floor.

The dragon girl quickly found herself in what appeared to be a workshop. A workshop for robots. Parts and chassis surrounded her. Some were lying on the floor, some on tables and counters, some dangled above. There were treadmills, thrusters, arms, legs, heads, torsos, and so much more. But what caught her eye was a structure at the center of the room. It sat on a circular platform, possessing a terminal and sort of arch at the back. Two tools sat on each end, resembling soldering irons.

And standing on it was an inert robot. She wasn't a robotics expert, but it appeared to be cobbled together from various models. It had the central torso and eyestalk of the drill sergeant but was propped up on a set of feminine legs. In place of the other two optics were a set of arms, each ending in clamps. She waved her hand in front of its optic. No reaction. She snapped her fingers. Nothing either.

She smirked as she backed away from the contraption. Unfortunately, she bumped into another one. She spun around to see a metal pod sliding open, revealing an egg-shaped robot. It strutted out with its arms stretched forth, scanning the area. Its gaze quickly shifted to her.

"Tickets.. Please," it stuttered.

Nian cocked her head. "Excuse me?" she said.

"Subway tokens.. Are.. Required.. For all riders.. Please.. May I.. See yours?"

She looked around him in confusion. "Hate to break it to you buddy, but this ain't any sort of station," she said.

"Token.. Was not found.. Please.. Present a.. Subway token."

"Dude, we're above gro- ow!"

The Protectron fired a laser from one of its servos into her abdomen. "Delinquent behavior confirmed.. Violator.. Will be.. Removed," it announced.

Nian grunted and just shield-bashed the tincan onto the floor. While it was down, she pinned her shield on top of it and fired away with her laser rifle. That shut the machine up.

She heard a whirring sound behind her and turned just in time to block a punch from the Frankenstein from earlier. It clasped its servos on the edges of the shield and ripped it from her hand.

"Hey!" she snapped. "That's mine!"

The Scrapbot threw it back at Nian with an aggressive series of beeps, forcing her to duck. It used the opportunity to grab her arms and stretch them out. She tried to fire her temporary weapon at the drone, but it twisted the arm holding it. It forced her onto her knees as she squirmed. She tried to break free, but it had an iron grip. She could feel her joints pop and bend with each twist.

Something sliced off the arm restraining her trigger finger. The drone spun its optic to see Projekt Red behind it. While it was distracted, Nian shot off the remaining clamp and reclaimed her shield. Red hacked off its eye while Nian gave it a leg sweep. She fired every last ounce of energy in her cell, disintegrating the Scrapbot.

Nian let out a sigh of relief as she rubbed her joints. "Thank the gods," she said. "I thought that thing was gonna disarm me. Literally."

Red nodded curtly. "You're welcome," she said.

"Did you find anything?"

Again she nodded. "Bunk beds," the she-wolf revealed. "Someone's been using them recently."

"And you got their scent, I take it?"

Red motioned for her to follow. The two ladies came across a pair of cellar doors. Red knelt down and gave them a good sniff. She bolted back up with a concerned look on her face. Nian didn't like that.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Magallan," Red replied.

"Come again?"

"They brought Magallan and Castle through here."

Nian blinked. Magallan? She's here too? The dragon-girl walked over to the doors and tugged at their handles. They refused to budge. She drew out her laser rifle and aimed at the lock. All she got was a soft 'click'. She made an annoyed hiss and tossed the weapon aside. The only option left was to call for help. She blew a whistle with her fingers and the other half of their team came running.

"You find a way in?" Franka asked.

Nian pointed at the cellar entrance. "Yeah, but we have a bit of a problem."

"Lemme guess; it's locked."

"And they've got Magallan."

Franka blinked. "Maggy?" she said in disbelief. "Since when did they-"

A sudden realization kicked in. She slammed a hand against her face. "Stupid!" she muttered under her breath. "I shouldn't have left her alone like that."

"You can beat yourself up later," Nian said. "Right now someone needs to do something about those doors."

Franka looked at Sesa. The man nodded with a firm face and fired one of his cold phosphex grenades at the doors. The barriers creaked and moaned as they turned brittle. Nian slammed her shield into the doors, smashing them to pieces. Their fragments tumbled down a ramp and into a tunnelway. She gave a thumbs up to Red, who returned the gesture with a nod. Then her ears perked up. There was a strange whirring sound coming from downstairs. Was that a tread-?

Without warning, she pounced on Nian. A missile soared over their heads immediately after this, crashing into the ceiling above Franka. Their squad leader was buried under the rubble as Red help Nian back onto her feet. Everybody else backpedaled away from the cellar doors as Franka dug herself out. When the culprit rolled onto the stage, their jaws dropped.

Standing before them was something best described as a miniature tank. The robot was bulky and broad as hell, towering over even the likes of Mountain. Its primary means of locomotion were a trio of mecanum wheels. One of its arms appeared to be a minigun of some form. The other was more difficult to identify, but Franka swore she saw a missile or two in it. The cherry on top was the pair of mortars on its back. A crimson light poured out of its visor as it glared down at the intruders.

"Attention intruders," the robot announced. "You are trespassing on private property. Vacate the premises immediately or you may be fired upon without further warning."

Franka just stared at the robot for a few more seconds before shaking her head. "Not unless you return our friends," she demanded.

Everybody's muscles tensed as the Gatling gun revved up.

"Request denied," retorted the tank before it opened fire.

Everybody scattered as bullets filled the hall. Projekt Red made a beeline for the tunnel but was blocked off by the robot. She managed to leap over it, though, and ran down the ramp. The robot locked onto her and rotated 180 degrees, firing its chaingun again. She gracefully dodged the bullets but was sent rolling across the floor when a missile landed near her. The robot would've given chase were its attention not divided. Franka and Sesa threw suppressive fire at it, shifting its focus onto them. Every pellet and bolt of plasma merely bounced off its armor.

The robot rotated 180 degrees again and returned fire. Nian called upon her Arts as the bullets collided with her shield. She smirked at the machine with a look that screamed 'What now, asshole'? Its response was to ram itself into her. That sent the poor shard of divinity flying into Franka. Sesa fell back onto his launcher and lobbed grenades at the drone. They didn't seem to fare any better.

Franka and Nian helped each other back up onto their feet. They just stared in disbelief at the robot as it weathered through one explosive after another. Franka charged at it with her blade but it swat her aside like a fly. She painfully collided with one of the many tables of the workshop, knocking all of its contents onto the floor. She groaned as she rose back up. It suddenly occurred to her just how cramped this room really was. Not the best place for tangling with a goddamn burdenbeast.

"Fallback!" Franka ordered. "Fallback and lure that thing outside with us!"

Sesa and Nian gave a curt nod and grunt, following their leader outside. Sesa covered the rear of their escape, launching grenades to keep the robot's optics glued onto them. The Annihilator sentry bot pursued its prey, smashing through everything in its way. Tight doorways, furniture, walls, even the inert chassis of other bots. It left a trail of destruction chasing after the fleshlings.

Everyone skidded to a stop outside. Sesa tossed Nian the assault carbine and some ammo before reloading his grenade launcher. Franka took the time to reload her hunting shotgun as well. Their moment of reprieve was broken when the sentry bot tore through the wall next to them. The minigun was already spinning as it rolled up to and glared down at its targets.

"Okay, so we've got Mr. Overkill's attention," Nian sarcastically noted. "Now what?"

Franka smirked as she reignited her thermite blade. "What do you think?" she replied. "We hold the line!"

---

Date: October 1st, 1099

Location: Müllstad

Time: 4:49 PM

Things have been relatively uneventful for the most part. Apart from the arrival of Rhodes Island, nothing really interesting had popped up. At least, to the majority of the village. For a select few, there was a great deal of stress. Three or four people were in the sick house awaiting treatment. Two of them were stable, two were clinging to life. It didn't help that one of the latter was a mystery.

Brändle and Olegario weren't too difficult. The former just had some bullets pierce his skin. The elderly Sarkaz woman- Eloise- had already treated him before Rhodes Island arrived. He just needed rest. Olegario had some second-degree burns. Not deep enough to melt his nerves, thankfully, but enough to leave some scars. Still, he'll be able to return to a relatively normal life.

Marius and Albert were of greater concern to her. The former had suffered third-degree burns, maybe even fourth degree considering the loss of his right arm. Half of his brain had shut down due to all of the painkillers in his body. From what little he could tell her, he had already lost all sense of feeling in his remaining hand. No surprise, considering its webbed shape. Ceylon gave him a dose of antibiotics to ward off any potential infections. It didn't hurt to change his bandages either.

But Albert- the enigma in the room- proved to be the most challenging. First of all, he was dehydrated as hell. Hooking an IV into him helped maintain his hydration levels. He was also expelling blood via his vomit and stools, so he had to have some infusions. His flaking skin was a particularly big headache. Some new skin could theoretically be grown, but none of the equipment needed was in town. The best they could do was bandage the exposed tissue before any infection could take hold.

Then Ceylon asked Eloise about her son's medical history. He had no signs of Oripathy, nor did his family have a history of any sort of illness. They both lived healthy lives thanks to the resources available in the village. After exhausting all of her questions, Ceylon decided to take a blood sample from the patient. Eloise donated some of hers as well, suggesting that it'd be used for comparison with Albert's. They were relatives, after all.

Easier said than done when the patient has so little blood, to begin with. When she finally got enough for the microscope, she made some strange discoveries. The first was how few white blood cells there were. The second was a significant number of foreign particles in his bloodstream. She tilted her head. Where in the world did those come from? She'll have to get back to Rhodes Island to be able to properly identify them.

She went back to Albert's to collect another blood bag from his IV pole. As she got close to the IV line, she heard a clicking sound. It was faint, but she was able to trace the source to her belt. It was her Geiger counter. She raised an eyebrow as she upholstered it. It stopped clicking as soon as she brought it to her face. She glanced back down to see a stand beside her. It held a worn rag, soaked in a fresh layer of bloody vomit.

She lowered the device over the soiled cloth. It was clicking again. She glanced back at the IV pole. She brought the Geiger counter to the bag hanging on it. Same results. She ran back to the microscope, scanning the patient's first sample. Again it was clicking. Her eyes widened as she processed the implications. She whistled Eloise over to her table and showed this discovery to her. She was as stunned as the younger woman was.

"You're kidding me," Eloise said.

Ceylon shook her head. "Your son has Acute Radiation Sickness."

The two women stood there, trying to come up with a rational explanation for this. While Arts made many things possible, they had never heard of any that could manipulate Gamma radiation. Ceylon looked up at the elder.

"One of the nearby ruins was used as a dumping ground, correct?" she asked. "Could it be that some radioactive material-like say Cesium-137- has found its way into Staubstadt?"

"You mean carried over by the wind? I don't think so. If that were the case, my son's buddies would've been affected by it too. And even if something blew onto them, we gave 'em all a good wash when they got back. This honestly feels like Arts to me."

Ceylon turned back to her equipment with a hand on her chin. Something wasn't adding up. She could feel it in her gut. But right now her patients' health took priority. At least now they had a clue as to what was ailing them.

"Do you have any Potassium Iodide? Or perhaps Diethylenetriamine pentaacetate? Radiogardase?"

The woman nodded, running into her office to grab something. While the elder was away, Mudrock approached the Medic. She placed a piece of paper next to the microscope without a word. Ceylon picked it up and gave it a quick look.

It was a colored drawing of their query. Fair skin and dark-chocolate hair, just as April described. From the way he was drawn, he must've been in Schwarz's age group. He didn't have anything that pointed to his race, though. No horns, no extra ears, a set of standard pupils for his eyes. Not even pointy ears like a Durin or Vampire. And speaking of eyes, they were a rather rich shade of green. There was a side note with an arrow pointing to them; 'same color as his bolts'.

Bolts? Ceylon thought. Like from a crossbow or some type of energy? Wait, didn't Brändle mention something about one of his pistols firing a glowing sludge?

There was something else that stood out. Two small scars on his head. One on the forehead, one to his left. From their shape and size, they must've been from a bolt or even a bullet. She looked back at Mudrock.

"Do these look like bolt wounds to you?" she asked.

Mudrock shook her head. "Everybody I spoke to claimed those were caused by bullets," she replied.

Ceylon just looked at her dumbfounded. Bullets? He survived two bullets to the head and continued functioning like a normal human? With no signs of Oripathy whatsoever? Either he was saved by a bloody good medic or was flat-out lucky.

But there was a slight complication. Even if he endured two consecutive headshots, he was bound to have some brain damage. She wasn't a neurosurgeon, but she knew just how delicate the brain was. For all anybody knew, he was probably living on borrowed time. Or at least teetering on a thin line between sanity and insanity.

A loud 'boom!' sounded off outside. The sickhouse quaked as some people ran inside. Mudrock and Ceylon ran to the entrance to investigate. Brändle cursed in Leithanian and rose from his bed to investigate. Ceylon tried to drag him back but he easily shook her off.

"Oi!" he shouted to someone. "The bloody hell's going on?"

"Hell, that's what!" retorted a villager, pointing at the entrance.

Brändle and the ladies looked at each other with puzzled looks before another explosion went off. This time half of a man went flying by the sickhouse. That prompted the trio to run outside and investigate.

It was utter chaos. Some of the houses were burning, some being blown to pieces. The villagers fared no better, many of them falling to bandits. Bandits with robots and guns. Ceylon locked up in sheer horror at the sight of a hulking figure carrying a flamer. There was a deranged, feminine cackling coming from the mechanized arsonist as she waltzed through the village.

"I wanna set the world on fiyah!" Milly sang. "I wanna start a flame in your FUCKING RIBCAGE!"

Several tiny projectiles flew past the trio. All of them turned to see a flying bulb with three eyes and appendages, carrying an SMG and a flamer. While it beeped in an angry tone at them, a purple light collided with it. This sent the machine spinning out of control, dazing it long enough for a cloaked figure to clobber it with a hammer. The optical sensors flicked offline after the main body was pulverized.

Two figures entered the scene. Both of them had some manner of a hooded cloak, yet each one's build was drastically different. One of them was lean and carried a scepter. The other was more board and armored. The former's face was concealed by a high collar, the other a horned gasmask. She recognized them from the riot at Wolumonde.

The Whisperer and Zealot rushed to her cover.

"Kommandantin!" Greeted the Zealot. "Never thought I'd see you again."

"The feeling's mutual, Erdmann," Mudrock replied. "But there's no need to address me with such a title anymore. I've left that life behind me."

A missile collided with a nearby hut, raining rotten wood and rusty iron down on the party.

"Tell that to them," the Whisperer dryly retorted, pointing her thumb at the power-armored monstrosity.

"Where are the guards? And the rest of your comrades?"

The Zealot's shoulders slumped slightly. "Dead. Most of our squadmates kicked the bucket before this shite-storm showed up. All that's left are myself and Melody. There's still Brändle and some rebel buddies of his, but they ain't Sarkaz. As for the sentries, well…"

He pointed at the ruined watchtowers. "Might be some boots left on the ground level. Can't say that luck's on their side, though."

The Whisper- Melody- looked back at Mudrock. "As much as I hate to say it, none of us had an eye for tactical thinking like you… 'sir'? 'Madam'? We could really use your guidance."

Mudrock froze up. It had been a long time since she led anyone to battle. Even longer she had been in the company of her old squad. Memories of Wolumonde and the journey were replaying themselves in the back of her mind. All that chaos, all that bloodshed. And for what? For the Reunion name to be dragged through the mud all over again? For some deranged Casters to use her fellow warriors as guinea pigs?

She looked at the chaos surrounding them. The villagers running, fighting, dying. She lost so many friends before she joined Rhodes Island. And now these people were losing theirs. Her grip on her hammer tightened.

"We need to get the civilians out of the crossfire," Mudrock said. "What's the best place for them to hold out at?"

Melody pointed at a farm behind their former leader. It sat alone on a hill, looking down on the rest of the village. There were fortifications surrounding it, such as barbed wire and guard posts. Might seem out of place in the big cities, but it made perfect sense out here. A farm was usually the biggest target for raiders, and as such typically held the most defenses in a settlement.

Mudrock looked back at her subordinates. "All of you fall back to the farmstead. Gather as many civilians as you can and eliminate anyone that threatens them ."

Then she turned to Ceylon. "You should join them too," she continued. "Tend to any wounded soul they bring back."

She saw where this was going, and she was already ill at ease. "What about you?" Ceylon asked with a taut undertone.

Mudrock called upon her Arts. Dark energy began swirling around her, taking on a shape resembling a glass dome. She placed her helmet back on.

"I'll be having a long talk with their leader," Mudrock said.

Mudrock made a beeline for the bandit leader, letting out a battle cry. Every raider within earshot shifted their focus on the hulking figure in white garbs. They noticed her trajectory and jumped between her and their leader. The raiders quickly got into formation, melee at the forefront while the gunners hung back.

A Greasemonkey was the first to fall, swinging his wrench at her. Her swinging arm rammed into his abdomen, tearing him in half. He had a look of horror and disbelief as the light in his eyes flickered out. His buddies were more cautious, opting to surround her. They all stuck as one, cracking her shield open. She retaliated by spinning around with her hammer. All of their heads went flying off.

A gunshot sounded off as something collided with her shield. All that remained of it was floating around her knees. She called upon her Arts to bring up a wall of Earth as another bullet came at her. The barrier thankfully caught it. She peeped her head out to see the rest of the party ahead. Most of them were using a rifle of some kind, all of them seemingly crafted from scrap and junk. One of them seemed to fire nails rather than bullets. Another seemed to be firing laser bolts.

She commanded the earth to carry her barrier forward. The goons scattered as the wall came crashing toward them. One of them wasn't quick enough to evade the wall, though. He got buried for his troubles. Just as her shield had grown back to her shoulders, someone opened fire on her again. It was a mook with a handmade shotgun. She knocked the weapon out of his hands while he was reloading. His jaw was the next thing to fly away, while his neck snapped from the force of the impact.

A laser slashed into her suit. She looked to see a woman in leather armor. A couple more blasts took down her shield as she charged forth, but she shrugged off the laser fire. As she closed in, the raider panicked and dropped the weapon. She tried to hightail it, but Mudrock's hammer was faster. Her spine was crushed under the native's instrument.

A whistle blew in the distance. She turned to receive a railroad spike in the left arm. Thankfully her makeshift gel layer- or rather, a layer of soil and sediment- took the brunt of the blow. She ripped it out of her suit just as another flew by her neck. The raider ahead had the strangest weapon of all. From what she could tell, it was crafted from a pressure cooker, a crutch, and a steam gauge.

She brought up another wall of earth to block off a barrage of nails and bullets. She waited until her ward was fully charged, then slammed a fist into the wall. It crumbled and formed a dust storm, blinding the enemy. The raiders panicked and unloaded everything in their weapons, praying to hit something, anything. Mudrock closed the distance between herself and them with minimal damage. One was knocked out with a single punch while the other had both of his legs crippled. His skull was splattered across the wasteland shortly afterward.

Another gunshot went off. This time she felt multiple pellets pierce her hazmat suit, but once again makeshift layer caught them. She spun to see another shotgunner, though his weapon seemed more pristine. Now that she thought about it, it resembled Executor's own longarm. She brushed those thoughts aside and parried the weapon outta the raider's hand. His neck was bent in an awkward angle a second later.

She was closing in on their leader by now. Just a few more meters and-

Something tackled her to the ground, pounding away at her. It was another robot, though this one was far more humanoid. A trio of optics stared down at her as it pinned both arms with its pincers. Heat and a crimson light began to build up around the largest sensor as it glared down at her. She swung her leg at one of the robot's own, snapping it right off the joint. This threw it off balance, loosening its grip on her as it dropped to a literal knee.

Mudrock slipped an arm out of its claws and grabbed its head. She forced its gaze upwards, redirecting the laser towards the skies. Once it died down, she turned the tables. She pinned the robot's back to the earth and began pulling at its skull. It clawed at her, but it could never breach her suit. With a howl, she tore the Assaultron's head right off its shoulders. The unit powered down.

A scream caught her attention. She turned to see the bandit leader roasting one of the villagers. She was cackling like a madwoman while her fellow Sarkaz burned. Mudrock sneered and charged at the bitch. By the time she sensed movement, her hammer had already collided with her chassis.

The woman yelped as she dropped the flamer and stumbled back. Mudrock followed up with a flurry of swings, beating the raider like a dinner bell. The bitch brought her mechanized arms up in time to block them. She managed to duck under one of her strikes and threw a one-two punch. That broke through the Defender's shields, forcing her to leap back and let them recharge. Milly used the opportunity to retrieve her Energy weapon and reignite it.

Mudrock grunted as the fire collided with her suit. Thankfully it's flame retardant, but that didn't make it immune. The makeshift gel layer of soil didn't really help with repelling the heat either. She needed to get rid of that flamethrower before she boiled. She charged at the raider and tackled her, grabbing her weapon by the nozzle and bending it. The woman stared at her in disbelief.

"The fuck!?" Milly said. "How did you-?"

Mudrock's reply came in the form of hammer time. And this time she managed to smash the armor plating. Piece by piece she exposed more and more of the chassis underneath.

Then something unexpected happened. The raider actually caught her hammer mid-swing and ripped it outta her hands! The two of them found themselves in a game of fisticuffs. The raider was clearly the more experienced in the field and quickly shattered her shield. Each punch from her rusty knuckles ripped through the Sarkaz's hazmat suit, drawing out more and more of her earthly cushion. Her helmet went flying off without anything for it to latch onto.

Eventually, all that remained of the suit were the exo-skeleton and scraps of cloth. And by that point, Mudrock was already covered in bruises and cuts. The Iron Devil performed a German suplex on the Sarkaz and stomped on her abdomen. Mudrock tried to pry the mechanical foot off of her, but she wasn't in any shape to do so. The raider let out a dark chuckle and whistled. One of her surviving mates brought her the pristine shotgun from earlier. She smirked as she brought it to the girl's forehead.

"You know, this local gang once told me that ya kind are nothing but devils," she said. "Barbarians. They hyped you up to be badasses before I blew their brains out. But so far I'm fucking disappointed."

"Who are you?" Mudrock asked.

"Real devils," Milly replied. "IRON Devils, to be precise. I guess you could say we're new arrivals. People around here certainly don't seem to know of us. That's gonna change today."

The roar of a motor interrupted their conversation. Milly turned and squinted her eyes to see a small dust storm up ahead. She could barely make out a glint before something flew past her leg…

And into the flamer's fuel tank. An explosion erupted between Milly and her goon, setting them both on fire. The raider tried to roll around on the earth, but he died from smoke inhalation and shock. A motorcycle sped past them and decapitated another raider before skidding to a stop. Mudrock blinked. It was Schwarz and Cliffheart.

The flames quickly found and seeped through some openings in her Power Armor. She screamed as they licked her skin and hair, scorching them. She tried to extinguish the flames on her scalp with her suit's servos, but those did jackshit. So she got outta the frame and started rolling around. That extinguished the flames… and released her prey.

Milly's eyes went wide as she realized her mistake. The next thing she knew, the earth had swallowed her up to her neck. She was spat back out onto the surface, encased in a cocoon of stone. She looked up to see Mudrock rising onto her feet and staring back down at the raider. Further off into the distance, the newcomers were mopping the floor with the rest of her goons.

Milly looked at Mudrock with bewildered eyes as she reclaimed her hammer and helmet. "How…" she uttered.

Mudrock glanced back at the raider. "What? You've never seen Arts before?"

"Arts? That what you people call fucking witchcraft?" Milly replied. "Energy weapons I can kinda get behind, but bending the goddamned earth? What the fuck is this, a comic book?"

Mudrock raised her eyebrow. Comic books? Does she honestly think that Arts are the stuff of fiction? How the hell could she and her minions fire those guns anyway? Most people needed years of training to even fire a pistol.

She noticed the shotgun on the ground and picked it up. Engraved on it were the words 'Winchester City-Killer'. She unloaded the weapon and examined the shell casings. To her shock, she felt no originium in them.

She walked over to the ruined flamer and examined that as well. She recalled seeing flamethrowers in Dublinn's hands, but they looked nothing like the one before her. The label was smudged, but she was able to wipe the gunk away. It read 'Flambe 450'. She hovered her hand over the shrapnel that was once the fuel tank. Surprise, no originium either. She did pick up a distinct smell, though. Some type of chemical.

She heard footsteps behind her. She turned to see a slightly bruised Schwarz and Cliffheart walking towards them.

"The perimeter is secured," Schwarz reported. "All threats have been neutralized. The survivors are rounded up at the center plaza."

Mudrock smiled. "You have my thanks," she said. "But what are you doing here?"

"Following those assholes," Cliffheart said, pointing at the chieftess. "There's a pack of them prowling in Staubstadt. Franka gave the order to eliminate them shortly before these ones departed. Ice queen and I followed suit."

Schwarz made an audible 'hmpt' at the nickname.

"And the villagers?" Mudrock asked.

"Safe with Lady Ceylon at the farmstead," said Schwarz.

Mudrock let out a sigh of relief. It was then that Schwarz noticed the shotgun in Mudrock's hand.

"You… didn't happen to find any Originium in her weapons, did you?" she asked.

Mudrock shook her head. "None of the bandits were Sankta either," she observed. "And I swear one of them was flinging lasers at me before you arrived."

Schwarz's brows and cat ears furrowed. "I see…" she said. "I would like to speak with the surviving raiders before we decide their fate."

Cliffheart blinked. "You mean interrogate them?" she asked. "Why so interested in them all of a sudden?"

"Need-to-know basis," Schwarz said. "Do you have any suggestions for a place to conduct them?" she asked. "I'd rather not let the villagers or Lady Ceylon walk in on the sessions."

Mudrock looked around. Her eyes fell upon a tall building not far from their position. It appeared to be a church, judging from the architecture. She motioned Schwarz towards it. The Feline assassin gave her a nod of approval.

"Help me get them inside," Schwarz said to the two ladies.

They complied, with Mudrock lifting Milly's prison over her shoulder like a logger with fresh wood. The raider and Cliffheart blinked in astonishment at the Sarkaz's strength. Sometimes it was easy to forget how strong she really was. It took them a couple of minutes of walking back and forth, but the Rhodes Islanders managed to get every surviving raider inside the old church. During this time Cliffheart also took care to retrieve the raider's weapons and lock them in the dropship. They can be brought back to Rhodes Island for study later.

The inside of the church wasn't anything to write back to base about. Rotting wood, stubby remains of candles, faded and torn banners. Even a bell on the top floor. Nothing identified the main faith practiced under this roof. And something told Mudrock that there wasn't any sort of religion being practiced in Müllstad these days.

Mudrock freed Milly from her stone coffin, restraining the asshole long enough for Schwarz to tie her up. Once her feet and hands were bound, she was thrown in front of an altar (or at least the crumbling vestige of one) with her fellow marauders.

"See if there's a spare suit for you back at the dropship," Schwarz ordered Mudrock. "Cliffheart, return to Lady Ceylon and watch over her."

"What about you?" Mudrock asked. "Are you comfortable being alone with… them?"

Didn't take an empath to sense the concern in her voice. All of them had already seen what they and their robots were capable of with those guns. Their leader had also proven herself to be a capable boxer. Despite this, Schwarz gave the younger girls a confident nod.

"I've dealt with worse scum than them," she assured the duo. "Just get Milady to patch you two up. You both need medical attention more than I do."

Clifheart snorted. "It's just cuts, girl," she said. "Ain't like I've got broken bones."

"But your cuts can act as entry points for infections. You two already have your Oripathy to deal with. I'd rather not hear Ceylon chew you out over that."

Cliffheart snickered. "Alright, big sis," she teased. "We'll get going. Call us if you need anything."

The assassin nodded as the explorer ventured off. Mudrock, on the other hand, lingered before departing. Schwarz closed the church doors, praying that they wouldn't snap off of their hinges and fall atop her. She walked back to the gang tied up before her.

"Alright. Start talking before I start breaking bones," she threatened.

---

Date: October 1st, 1099

Location: Staubstadt

Time: 5:01 PM

The past few minutes have been agonizingly slow. To Projekt Red, it felt like an hour. She had done nothing but tiptoe her way through enemy turf while sniffing the air for her friends. That wasn't to say that it was uneventful, though. Far from it.

She had run into some of the raiders and machines down here. Some of the drones were floating eyeballs, others walking egg-shaped clankers. Most of them possessed some sort of firearm or directed energy weapon. Most of them didn't know what hit 'em when she pounced. The few that did never had the chance to warn their friends.

They all had an otherworldly stench to them. The meatbags were similar to Rainbow Team, yet their scent stood out from theirs. Like a distant cousin who refused to bathe. They reeked of a certain decay, something Ash and her crew hadn't been exposed to. Something she couldn't name. It was completely alien to her.

It was no secret that her brain processed the world in a different manner than most people. In some respects, she could perceive things most couldn't. The aforementioned stench would be one of those. Yet some things were elusive to her senses as well. Some colors and concepts at the very least. The scientists and medics at Rhodes Island had a hard time pinning the exact specifics down. Regardless, her unique perspective had proven beneficial to them so far.

Her friends and their captors were not the first to be down here. There were other scents here too. Faint, but still present. Someone built this bunker years ago. She didn't know who, but she could at least gauge the purpose behind its construction. Bunkers were built to serve as shelters, safe-havens. Kazdel has been engulfed in war for the past few years. Who it once belonged to didn't matter to her, though. She had a mission.

The trail led to a small chamber. There were workbenches along the walls, while scrapmetal lay in every corner in and beyond the room. Projekt Red clung to the ceiling and peeped her head around a corner. There, all tied and beaten up was Magallan. Castle-3 sat in a corner in the back, already in the process of being dismantled. And with them were two men.

Both of them lacked the standard kibble of the Terrans. Horns, extra ears, tails, gills. They were as bland as a loaf of bread. The one that intrigued her was the withered one. He looked like a walking corpse and certainly smelled like one too. His eyes were coated in a beady, pitch-black material. In all her missions, she never encountered a being like the husk.

The zombie-man was leaning against one of the workbenches with a hunting revolver in his hand. He was having a pleasant interrogation with Magallan. His smoothskin minion was tinkering away at some hexagonal object. He had a strange skull hat atop his head, branded with tribal markings. The two metal egg-bots flanked each side of the entrance. Their backs were to the huntress, though.

The smoothskin brought the contraption to his face. "I dunno, Bronte," the raider says. "Your Gamma gun seems to be in mint condition to me. No dents in its dish, no ruptures in any of its Gamma cells. Not even loose wiring. What makes you think it's malfunctioning?"

The shriveled one- Bronte- shrugged. "Can't quite put my finger on it," he confessed. "But something felt off when I pulled the trigger a couple of days ago."

"You mean when that trio of scavs was prowling around?"

He nodded. "Felt even stranger when I hit myself with it. It felt… off. Different somehow."

The man snickered. "A Ghoul complaining about gamma radiation?" he snorted. "Must be a cold day in hell."

Magallan tilted her head. "Gamma radiation?" she asked. "Like… from X-rays?"

The smoothskin burst into laughter. "Just listen to this bimbo," he taunted. "She doesn't know what the fuck gam-"

The device went off without warning, blasting him with green energy. The man swore as he stumbled around in a lethargic gait, while Maggy's Geiger counter went off. Thankfully her suit shielded her from… whatever that green stuff was. The raider keeled over the workbench, struggling to contain his lunch.

Bronte sighed and tossed a crimson IV bag at the other marauder. Projekt Red sniffed the air as the mystery item flew over. That didn't smell like blood in that bag. If anything it reeked of chemicals. As soon as the man injected the substance into himself, he let out a sigh of relief.

"Thanks," he breathed.

"You're welcome," Bronte said before turning back to Maggy. "Lass, do you know what a Ghoul is?"

Maggy shook her head. "A type of Vampire? Or maybe a race of Sarkaz?"

The shriveled one chuckled. "Vampire?" Bronte snorted. "That's the first time someone's called me that. Usually, it's just 'zombie'. But to answer your question, no. I don't need to drink blood or sleep in coffins like some pre-war boogieman."

"Ain't there vampires in the DC area?" piped in the other raider.

Another snort escaped from the ghoul. "You really need to stop listening to all that gossip, pal," he said.

Magallan tilted her head again. "Then what is a Ghoul?" she asked.

The man grasped at where the bridge of his nose once rested. He sighed.

"A heavily irradiated person," he revealed. "Most people just roll over and die after a certain dosage of gamma radiation. People like me are lucky enough to survive. How exactly is beyond me. Genetics? Exposure to the Forced Evolutionary Virus? Black magic? All anybody knows is that a truckload of Rads is the trigger."

"Dudes like him get an extra century or two of life," the smoothskin butted in. "Plus heavy resistance to Rads. Frankly, I'm jealous."

Bronte snickered. "Really? At least you don't have to deal with losing your hair and skin. At least you smoothskins stay fertile. I, on the other hand, will never have kids of my own. There's also the risk of going Feral. Oh, and dealing with bigots."

Bronte pushed himself from the workbench. "But enough about me," he said. "What about you? The hell are you from?"

"Columbia. You?"

"Virginia." he pointed back at the smoothskin with his thumb. "Eran is from Nevada."

"Never heard of those."

"And I've been to a dozen places called Columbia. You sure you're not the one sleeping under a rock?"

He knelt his face down to her level. "And here's a more pressing one; what the hell are you and your buddies doing around here? Y'all are obviously looking for something."

Magallan's lips locked up. Red's grip on her knife grew tighter.

"...We're looking for a Courier," she confessed. "He called himself 'Six'."

Something shattered in the workshop. Everybody turned their heads towards Eran. A piece of glass had fallen onto the floor and exploded into shards. The man himself slowly turned with a terrified look on his face.

"S-sie-seh-six?" he stuttered. "As in, 'Courier number Six'? The fucking king of New Vegas? He's here!?"

That reaction intrigued both Operators, to say the least. Magallan in particular resisted the urge to grin.

"Maybe?" she said in a teasing voice. "You make it sound like I should know his name."

The man's eyes began to flare. "Should kn-," he snapped. "That bastard dug his way outta his own grave and conquered the Mojave Wasteland! Kicked the NRC and Caesar's Legion off of Hoover Dam after kicking House's ass! And wiped the floor with my old gang's head honchos to boot! Motor-runner, Violet, Driver Nephi, even fucking Cook-Cook! He butchered them all!"

"Calm down, Eran," Bronte said. "He's-"

"He was here a few days ago," Magallan claimed. "Made his way to Siracusa and slaughtered a local mafia family. He's making his way back east if our intel's correct. Maybe even here…"

Now the smoothskin was hyperventilating. "Ohgodohgodohgodohgod," he whimpered. "He's here to finish the job, ain't he?"

Eran broke off into a deranged sprint. "BUT HE'S NOT GETTING ME!" he shouted across the hall.

If he weren't in a panic, he would've seen Projekt Red around the corner. Bronte growled and yelled for Eran to return to the interrogation chamber. He turned back to Magallan with a glare.

"You, young lady, have a big fat mouth," he sneered.

Red chose that moment to strike. She threw a knife at some important-looking device on the Protectron scourge's back. He went berserk and started firing everywhere. One of the bolts missed Red's wolf ears by an inch. Bronte retaliated by unloading every bullet in his revolver into the robot's chassis. That was more than enough to put it down. Then he noticed the knife embedded in the combat inhibitor's remains.

Red decided to reveal herself to the rest of the raiders. She toppled over the teal-colored robot and ran towards Bronte. The Ghoul didn't have time to reload so he grabbed a knife and ducked under Red's swing. Red herself parried his attack and started plumbing away at him. He grabbed a blocky pistol-looking device and shot crimson lasers at her. She gracefully dodged each bolt and sliced off the bastard's arm. While he was howling in pain she quickly leaped over Magallan and cut her free.

"Thanks," Magallan said. "Don't suppose you have an extra knife?"

Red tossed her the hunting revolver and its holster. Magallan gave her a perplexed look.

"No originium in it or its bullets," she explained. "Just need to aim and reload."

Their Geiger counters started clicking. The ladies turned to see the man firing caustic-green energy at himself from the so-called Gamma Gun. He placed his severed arm in the socket it had been removed from and activated the device. To their horror, its fingers started twitching. Skin and muscle regenerated and stitched the arm back into place. Every other injury he received disappeared as well.

Bronte gave the ladies a wolfish grin. "The best part about being a Ghoul?" he boasted. "It's that you can always count on Rads to patch you up."

He reloaded his revolver and fired. Both girls darted scattered to avoid being shot. Maggy was unfortunate enough to catch a bullet in her leg, crippling it. When his smallarm ran dry, he took cover behind the remaining Protectron and lifted it back onto its feet. Its immediate response was to fire lasers at them.

And to run its Insult Bot subroutine of course.

"Targets acquired," Zig droned. "Knock knock. Who's there? An organic.. Being.. With a.. Finite life sp-"

Magallan emptied a full barrel into the robot's chassis. It went down with audible snaps and crunches.

"...Zing!" was its last word before it exploded.

Bronte was thrown back by the explosion, knocking his laser pistol out of his hand. He was forced back to Queen's Rules with Red again, this time falling into the defense. Their fight took them back into the hall, giving him more room to maneuver around the Lupo's swings and stabs. He managed to land a couple of each himself before a laser collided with his skin.

He growled as he caught a glimpse of the Liberi back at the workshop, holding his energy weapon. But he still had his Gamma gun. He just had to aim at red riding hood and-

She severed his leg. With a short yelp, he hopped backward, trying to maintain his balance. He fired the Gamma gun, splashing the wolf-girl with radiation. A laser sliced off his other leg, toppling him. He snarled in pain as he crawled away, with more red lights raining down on him. Eventually, the assassin recovered and pounced on him, knocking his makeshift weapon outta his hands.

And she ended this struggle by twisting his head around 270 degrees. Soon as she heard that sickening snap she released her grip. The Ghoul stopped breathing. She let out a sigh of relief, though her fingers fell upon her forehead as she rose.

"Are you alright?" Magallan called out.

Projekt Red nodded slightly. "A little nauseated," she confessed. "But otherwise, I'm fine."

Maggy rummaged through the junk in the workshop and found a first aid kit. Inside were some strange needles and another IV bag. She took the latter and ran to the Lupo assassin. Red raised an eyebrow as she examined it. It was certainly the same type as what Eran injected himself with. There was also a label on it; 'RadAway'.

"Try this," she suggested. "That scaredy-cat injected it into himself after he messed around with that weird gun."

Red glanced at the hexagonal energy weapon and then back at the bag. True, that man seemed to have had a positive reaction to the stuff, but what about her? She was a Lupo. For all she knew it could be toxic to her kind. Red cast a skeptical glance at the explorer. Magallan gently urged her to give it a shot anyway.

Red relented and injected herself with Rad-Away. She felt a subtle weight fade away. It was easier to focus and breathe now.

Something fell with a sudden 'thud!' Both girls jumped as a bowling ball rolled from a corner at a t-junction. They crept up and peeked around to see Eran sucking in fumes from some inhaler. The look on his face screamed 'high as fuck' to them.

"Hooo… yeah…" he sighed in oblivious bliss. "That's just what the dock-tah ordered."

He turned his gaze towards them with a blissful look on his face. That mirth dried up when his brain actually began to register them.

"Oh hell no!" he shouted, drawing a 10 mm pistol.

Projekt Red was a quicker draw. She threw a knife into his shoulder, throwing off his aim. The next one went right into his jugular. He fell to the floor drowning in his own blood.

"You couldn't have left him alive for interrogation?" Maggy said.

Red shrugged sheepishly. "Instinct," she said. "Will try to reign it in next time."

Maggy looked back at the workshop. Something about her gaze seemed off to the Lupo. When she looked back at Red, there was a concerned look in her eyes.

"What's wrong?" Red asked.

"Their leader left for a raid a while ago."

"Raid? Where?"

"...Müllstad."

Projekt Red's muscles tensed up. How the hell could they have gotten past them? Past her?! The answer came to her in the form of a map. It had several rooms and other areas labeled on it—barracks, workshops, a kitchen, water purifier, command room, garage-

She blinked as her eyes fell onto an icon in a corner. It was a winding mountain (or drill?) within a circle. Part of the bottom appeared to have been scratched off, though. Red narrowed her eyes. Something about it seemed familiar…

Red shook her head. "We need to warn Ceylon and Mudrock."

Red pulled up her walkie-talkie and tried to contact them, but all she got was static. She growled and tried Franka or Liskarm instead. Static again. This bunker must be scrambling their signals. Her ears dropped as her brows furrowed.

"Fix Castle and head to the garage," she ordered. "I've got to warn Franka."

Magellan nodded in agreement as Red tore the map off of the wall. She ran back to the workshop while Red ran back to the surface. Maggy opened up a tool kit and sat beside Castle-3's inert chassis. She had some basic training from Mayer and Closure. Time to put those lessons to good use.

---

Back on the surface…

Things were getting more and more interesting by the second. First Franka and Liskarm tell them that another offworlder- from the same realm as Rainbow Team no less- had made their way onto Terra. Yet on the flight to Kazdel, she also tells them that this individual is carrying some rather exotic technology. Nothing like what the first newcomers carried. Unfortunately, they ran into less pleasant individuals instead.

That floating eyebot the trio spotted earlier had led them into a pack of raiders and robots. Waddling egg-shaped drones, a couple of floating eyeballs, and a gynoid with electrified claws and a frickin' laser cannon. One of the raiders tried to cut through Liskar's shield with some type of industrial weapon (similar to Specter's own tool), but a shield bash stunned him long enough for her to shoot his brains out. Jessica meanwhile managed to cap a shotgunner.

Rangers was firing at the eyeballs. They were quick as a hiccup but as frail as glass. A few arrows were enough to rip them apart. The eggs-pawns were more of a nuisance than a threat. Sure the lasers stung, but they weren't all that different from standard Art blasts. The real problem was the lady-bot.

It was fast, nimble, and had a laser cannon installed in its skull. Just now a raider tried to cut the lizard-man down with a fire-ax as the robot fired its laser. Rangers managed to dodge the blast, but the marauder wasn't so lucky. He turned to dust as soon as it splashed against him. Rangers blinked and narrowly dodged a lunge from the gynoid.

The robot tried to grapple him with its electrified pincers, but he danced around each of its strikes. Unfortunately, his arrows bounced right off of its armor. Jessica and Liskarm wanted to shoot at the drone, but they were concerned about friendly fire. So the older woman went in with her fists. She wrapped her arms around the robot and unleashed her Arts.

The robot let out a digital screech as the Vouivre electrocuted every circuit in its chassis. When it stopped moving, she released the smoking husk onto the ground. Rangers wiped some sweat off of his brow.

"My thanks," he said.

Liskarm gave the elder a curt nod. Both of them examined the carnage around them. Just like Rainbow Team, they lacked the standard racial traits of the natives. And as with their firearms, the guns around them lacked originium in their frames and bullets. Curiously, one of them fired lasers and had something resembling batteries instead of an ammo cartridge. Ash's team had nothing like that.

And then there were the robots themselves. As far as anyone was aware, nobody's developed humanoid robots yet. Let alone lasers that disintegrate their victims. The eyeballs, though…

Everybody had the same idea, but Rangers was the first to voice it out. "These appear to be the same model as our quarry's friend," he noted. "Perhaps we should bring these back for study?"

Liskarm nodded in agreement. She was about to pick one of the units up when she spied something out of the corner of her eye. Something moving towards-.

Liskarm leaped in front of Jessica just in time to block a missile. The duo was rattled by the explosion, but they were still standing. Rangers managed to roll outta range of the splash damage. When the trio waved the smoke away, they were in for a nasty surprise.

Up ahead were Franka, Sesa, and… Nian? Why the hell was she here? Where were Projekt Red and Magallan? Cliffheart and Schwarz were nowhere to be seen either. Had they gone on ahead without them? But those questions were the least of their problems. That honor belonged to the towering automatron.

Sesa tried to outrun a missile barrage but was sent flying by an explosion. Franka managed to withstand a charge attack but was thrown by one of its massive arms. Nian was gritting her teeth as it hammered her shield with bullets. She was thrown back by a mortar soon after. The robot turned its gaze toward Liskarm's team.

"Alert," announced the Sentry Bot. " Non-combatants are advised to leave the area. Security sweep in progr-"

Franka got back onto her feet and sliced at one of its 'legs'. Her thermite blade shattered the wheel's armor, the fragments dripping with molten metal at their edges. Her smirk died out when it pointed its missile launcher at her. Before it could fire, an arrow bounced off of its armored head. It looked to see a slightly disappointed Savra standing atop some rubble.

"Hmm, not quite the outcome I was hoping for," Rangers noted.

"Crime detected. Threat analysis: red. Adding targets to threat matrix."

The robot turned its chaingun on Liskarm's team. The wyvern-lady got between the bullets and Rangers. Jessica took position atop a ruined house and fired away with her ill-gotten sniper rifle. That diverted the robot's attention long enough for her teammates to run for cover. Franka joined Liskarm and Rangers.

"About time you got here," she said in a teasing tone.

"Where's everyone else?" Liskarm asked.

"Red's on a rescue mission right now. Maggy and Castle got jumped by these assholes. Not sure about Schwarz and Cliffy. They're probably just taking their sweet time."

An explosion and a scream interrupted their reunion. The ladies looked to see poor Jessica tumbling down the rumble in a daze. The robot was rolling towards her, minigun still spinning. Franka hopped on the initiative, slashing at the back wheel. The robot's upper half made a sharp turn, trying to swat the Guard. She ducked under the machine's gun arm and landed another slash when she felt heat. Heat that wasn't emanating from her blade.

She caught a glimpse of orange lights and steam behind the robot. Or rather, emerging from it. It used the opportunity to slap her silly and knock her to the ground with a concussive blast from its mortar. Liskarm fired her pistol at it to draw its ire, her efforts rewarding her with… fewer bullets than she expected.

The robot seemingly shut down as panels began to open up on its back. There was even more steam now, hot enough to boil anyone's skin off. Behind it was a shitload of machinery and a couple of massive batteries. Gears in the Operators' brains began to turn.

Jessica gathered her bearings just in time to exploit this opening. She fired at one of the batteries with her sniper rifle, causing it to explode in a green shower of lights and particles. Her superior's Gieger counters were clicking now. An alarm burst from the robot's speakers.

"Status report: yellow," the Sentry Bot droned. "Primary systems have sustained significant damage. Requesting reinforcements."

As soon as those words left its vocoder, two robots emerged from the bandit hideout. One of them had a thruster in place of legs, dual-wielding Tesla rifles. The other appeared to be a variant of the gynoid, armed with a dish-shaped device and a fiery blade. The former bot looked like it was plucked from an industrial power plant. The latter appeared to have their original armor replaced with spikes and salvage, plus a skull over their faceplate.

The robots split. The Quantum Swarmbot went after Liskarm while Rangers and Franka kept the Sentry Bot's attention on them. Jessica found herself in the Assaultron Hag's crosshairs.

Caustic green rings and streaks of electricity soared through the air. Nian recovered and jumped between Jessica and the rings, blocking them to the best of her abilities. The Feline's Geiger counter was clicking like crazy as the bombardment continued. The shard of divinity seemed to be losing strength with each explosion. Jessica by comparison wasn't as severely affected thanks to her Iron Block suit.

Nian wanted to slap herself silly for being so headstrong. On the cusp of vertigo, Nian activated one of her personal Arts; Cooper Seal. A certain percentage of radiation and concussive force connecting with her shield was reflected back at their assailant. While the kinetic repulsion seemed to stagger the robot some, the rads had no effect. Jessica's Geiger counter was practically screeching now. Nian really wanted to rip it off of the Feline's belt and crush it.

She was too weak to follow through with this urge now. She fell onto her knee with a nauseous groan. The floating robot seemed to notice this and broke off from Liskarm. With a battle cry in binary, it threw arcs of lightning at the dragon lady. While her Arts did reflect some bolts, it hardly seemed to faze the machine. If anything, it was reabsorbing the tamed lightning through its voltaic frame. To make matters worse, the jolts bounced between her and Jessica. Their hair was starting to rise from all the static.

The Feline managed to shoot off one of the Swarmbot's arms, disabling its lightning gun. When she reached into the pouch holding the .308 clips, her fingers grasped… nothing. She panicked and shifted it around some more. Nothing but air. She used up all of her rifle's bullets. But she still had a smoke grenade and her pistol.

The Hag was closing in on them now. She broke off from Nian and tossed a smoke grenade at the divine shard. Just before it detonated, she had an 'oh crap' look on her face. A smokescreen clouded her vision and her ears were ringing like church bells now. She clasped her hands onto her ears and winced in pain.

"Seriously!?" she shouted, followed up by some coughing. "What- *couch* -the hell was that for!?"

Another burst of gamma flew towards her… and missed. More volleys of energy soared over her head. Not once did she feel the invisible poison or the kinetic burst. Jolts of lightning fared no better. Nian blinked.

"Error," the Assualtron said. "Targeting parameters not aligning."

Nian smirked. Stupid tincans. She thought to herself.

Jessica let her pistol do all the talking. The bullets collided with the Hag, drawing its attention. It threw blasts of gamma rads in her direction, but she tanked through the barrage. It quickly dawned on the robot that she wasn't gonna buckle like the shieldbearer. So it decided to engage in a little swordplay.

The Assaultron danced around her bullets, ducking and weaving through gunfire. All while it charged up its laser. Before it could get close to Jessica, Franka jumped into their battle. She caught the machine off-guard, slicing off its gamma gun. She managed to get a couple of additional swings in before the machine shook its bewilderment. It was a better swordsman (swordbot?) than she initially believed. It managed to parry and sidestep several more of her attacks.

Then the robot played its trump card. It fired a blazing hot laser toward the Vulpo, missing her ear by an inch. The robot tried to lock onto her skull, but she managed to grab the drone by its. To its astonishment, she managed to redirect the blast, swerving it toward the Sentry Bot…

And Liskarm. It was pounding away at her shield when the beam collided with her. Though her Charged Defense protected her from disintegration, the beam left some visible burn marks on her outfit. And it incapacitated her long enough for the Sentry Bot to tackle and pin her down. She struggled to hold off the suppressive fire while it had its wheel on her legs. The Assualtron emitted a cruel chuckle from its voice box.

"Thanks for the assist kill," it quipped.

Franka performed an uppercut under the robot's chin. That shattered the skull and crippled the unit's actual cranium, shorting out the laser cannon. The machine couldn't fathom what just transpired. One punch from this bitch was able to scrap its cannon?!

And two good hands grabbed its shoulder and ripped its remaining arm out. The Assualtron retaliated with a kick and leaped back. An audible growl (or rather an audio file of some wasteland creature's) was being played from its speakers. And it was glowing red now. Just like…

Franka made a run for it as the Hag charged at her. It self-destructed behind her, throwing her into the crosshairs of the Quantum robot. It paralyzed her with its jolts, leaving her at the mercy of a concussion grenade courtesy of the Sentry Bot. Or it would've, had Nian not snuck up behind the floating drone and sliced it in half with her greatsword. She kicked the grenade away before it detonated.

Liskarm broke free from her robotic captor and fired at its rear leg. Franka hopped in and heated her thermite blade, cutting right through its armor and inner mechanisms. She and Liskarm pulled back to avoid being bonked by the Sentry Bot's massive arms again. It tried to roll towards them, but its rear wheel was ruined.

Franka pulled down an eyelid and blew a raspberry. To her shock, it started hobbling towards them. It was using its front legs like 'real' ones to drag itself along the earth. And it was still armed to the teeth. Liskarm kicked in her Arts to repel as much of its firepower as she could. Then its systems started overheating again.

When the Sentry Bot powered down, Franka and Liskarm ran to the back. Just like before, panels had opened up to vent out heat. And once again its mechanical guts were exposed. Liskarm didn't hesitate to channel her electrokinetic Arts into the opening. The robot let out a series of garbled speeches before the bolts reached its remaining Fusion Core.

The Sentry Bot erupted in a massive explosion, throwing Franka to the ground. First came the standard warm colors, followed by an unusual mixture of Originium crimson and atomic lime-green. Their Geiger counters were chirping like rabid beasts as the radiation descended onto the earth and inert chassis. Franka whipped sweat off of her forehead as Liskarm helped her back onto her feet.

"Sorry," Franka apologized. "Forgot to mention that they're nuclear-powered. Learned that the hard way with a kamikaze bot."

She ended up leaning against Liskarm's shoulder. She looked at her fellow operators to assess the damage. Everybody was alive, but some had it rougher than others. Sesa was walking with a noticeable limp, while Nian seemed to be on the verge of vomiting. Jessica took her mask off, revealing a modest stream of blood oozing from her forehead. They needed a place to rest and lick their wounds. And Franka knew just the place.

The bandits' hideout was as quiet as a graveyard now. As far as the squad knew, they were alone in Staubstadt now. The only other parties that remained were the dead and the deactivated robots. Liskarm drew her pistol up as someone re-emerged from the bunker entrance soon afterward. It was just Projekt Red. Lisrkarm sheathed her smallarm when she recognized her fellow Operator.

For some reason, Franka had this concerned look on her face. "Red?" she asked "Are they-?"

"They're fine," Red replied. "Magallan's just rebuilding Castle-3. But that's the least of our problems."

Liskarm looked at Franka with a curious expression. Franka chuckled nervously.

"I uh… left Maggy by herself and those assholes kidnapped her," she explained to her partner. "But what do you mean by 'least of our-"

Liskarm's radio started ringing. She grabbed and brought the device to her ear.

"This is Liskarm, over," she reported.

A deep and formal voice came through. "This is Schwarz, reporting on behalf of Mudrock and Lady Ceylon. Over."

"On behalf? I thought you were at the radio tower? Over."

"We were. But then Cliffheart and I spotted some bandits departing Staubstadt. We followed them back to Müllstad and... ran into a raid."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"We joined Mudrock and some locals in repelling them. But we've taken some significant losses. To make matters worse, they appear to be wielding the same technology as our quarry. Over."

Franka cursed under her breath. She motioned for Liskarm to pass the radio and brought it to her mouth. "Did you leave any of those bastards alive? over." She asked.

"Yes. I'm already interrogating them right now. By the time you return, I should have some answers. What's your ETA? Over."

"Probably half an hour at the very least. Think you can hold the fort until then? Over."

"Uncertain. As said, we've taken some losses. There is a hidden garage near the radio tower, though. Large enough to hold a wide variety of vehicles. Probably some leftovers from the civil war. You can use those to return to base quickly. Over."

Franka smiled. "We'll be there shortly. Just hold tight and keep our unfriendly guests around for a little while longer. I wanna have a few words with them. Over."

"Acknowledged. Schwarz out."

The assassin hung up on them. Franka looked back at Red.

"Took everything out of your mouth, didn't she?"

Red nodded. She handed the bunker's map to her Squad Leader.

"Thanks, Red. Hmm, say Liskarm, do we really need to go down under if the entrance is at the tower?"

Her partner shrugged. "Depends on if Maggy and Castle are returning to the surface," she suggested.

Red shook her head.

Franka placed a hand on her chin. She was going to suggest staying topside, but after what happened with Magallan, she was hesitant.

"Jessica, you and Nian head meet with Maggy down in the bunker. The rest of us are staying topside. We'll rendezvous at the garage."

Jessica gave her superior a curt nod before departing. Nian on the other hand was grinning.

"An underground base," she mumbled to herself. "Sounds like something from a spy flick."

Nian ran off after the Feline. The rest of the team followed Franka through the ruins. Things have been relatively uneventful until they came across Sesa and Red's previous finds. The Blacksteel representatives were rather surprised when their Gieger counters reacted to the chunks of strange originium. Liskarm knelt down and took a pebble as a sample.

"Radioactive originium?" Franka said. "Okay, this is getting weirder and weirder by the minute."

"That's not even the weirdest part," Sesa. "Apparently this is where our quarry first popped up at."

Franka blinked. "Hold up, this was where he entered our dimension?"

"Well, several meters above us if you were to ask our little nose here. And apparently, he wasn't the only thing to make the giant leap."

Franka bit her lip as she glanced back at the warped ore. Did this stuff pull him through dimensions or something? She wanted to say that it sounded like some sci-fi crap but... well...

Someone tapped her on her shoulder. She looked to see Rangers beside her. He was pointing at a certain Lupo as she sniffed the ground.

"What is it, girl?" Franka asked in a teasing voice. "Another visitor?"

Red bolted back up. "Not a visitor," she said. "Hunter."

"Excuse me?"

"Not a man or machine. Something else. It reeks of death."

"Death as in 'rotting zombie' or…?"

Red shook her head. "Not decay. Blood. Fresh."

Franka was liking this less and less. "Any idea where it ran off?"

Red gave a quick sniff. "East," she said.

That rang all sorts of alarms in Franka's head. She broke off into a sprint for the edge of town. The rest of her team chased after her with concerned looks on their faces.

---

Meanwhile at Müllstad…

The trail led to a human settlement. At first glance, it looked like any other it and its pack had explored. Sure it was populated, but that was always a given. Humanity had always existed alongside Deathclaws and the rest of the natural world. What made it stand out from other ruins were the locals themselves. Some of them had horns and tails, others ears resembling brahmin.

And there was something else here. Blood. Fresh blood. Blood soaked into the earth. Blood drying up on the buildings. Its nose also picked up the tell-tale signs of conflict too. Gunpowder, smoke, fire, chemicals, iron, the stench of death. There was another battle here. And it looked like the anomalies won.

The remaining normies were dragged into some rotting old building. It thought about hopping over there first, but there was a guard inside. Something about it felt off to the predator. The way she moved with that chunk of black iron spoke of experience, confidence. Like many things in their strange land, it was new. Alien. Best to observe it from a distance for the time being. And besides, the trail went further east.

It clung to the outskirts of the settlement, dashing between boulders and other rock formations. As it moved, it picked up the smell of fresh flora. 'Vegetables', right? They were growing food for their cubs here. Fresh food. These beings were intelligent enough to cultivate their food. If they had the brainpower to do that, then they were just as likely to have guards defending it.

Or… maybe not. They just had a battle with the normies. They were wounded, weakened. How many warriors did they truly have? The trail continued into the farmstead. The Deathclaw, though, wasn't too keen on taking the front entrance. Could be rigged with boobytraps. It circled around the building looking for an alternate point of entry.

It found one in the form of a window. And as it so happened, the entity that left their trail. One of them seemed to have been burnt by the crimson lights. Another had the faint smell of lead. One's skin was misshapen, like molten metal. The weakest of the pack carried the scent of the poisoned glow.

The Deathclaw was salivating now. These were all easy pickings. Hardly sporting, but at least they'll fill its belly. It did notice something odd about some of them, though. They had this obsidian rock growing on their skin. Was it toxic to its kind? Was it tasty, let alone edible?

Well, nothing ventured, nothing.

---

Farming was usually hard work. Long hours, battling the environment, warding off pests and predators, tending to the livestock. It was difficult some days, but overall rather routine. One might say even dull at times.

Things have gotten interesting lately. First was the Sarkaz gang that marched into town a few days ago. Then there was the recent raid on the village. And now the Hofer farmstead was being used as a makeshift medical bay and shelter for the villagers. They've even had to move the livestock out of the barn to make room for the wounded. Needless to say, things were hectic.

Ceylon whipped the sweat off of her brow as she sat a box of bandages down. She looked around the common room as she took a seat. All of the furniture was either pushed to the side or cradling some injured soul or another. Medical supplies and patients were scattered all over the place. Brändle was guarding some of the patients in the farmhouse's living room. Poor Elosie was swamped amidst the confusion.

Thankfully they weren't alone. They had Brändle and the Hofers- Ajax and Xenia- to ease some of the burdens off of their shoulders. They were rather surprised to find Minos in a Sarkaz village, even more so by Brändle's medical skills. When asked about his education, the Caprinae merely said one word; Wolumonde. Ceylon decided not to probe any further after that.

Ceylon cast a glance at Albert. While they have been able to deduce what was ailing Elosie's son, they haven't the slightest idea as to how he contracted his sickness. As far as Ceylon knew, nobody in the history of Terra has ever weaponized-let alone harness- gamma radiation. While nuclear fission and fusion weren't a secret, they were a very niche market. Most of civilization uses it for medical purposes, not warfare. There has been some talk about using such minerals as an energy source, but few saw the potential in that idea. Those that did were fighting an uphill battle against the Originium industry.

Albert's cognition has been steadily growing after receiving his pills. For the past few minutes, he's been staring at the window beside him. The sun was beginning to dip into the background as warm colors washed ashore in the sky. It seemed to be splitting into streams of orange and purple from where she was looking.

But something seemed off about the young Sarkaz. He was trying to lift his finger, trying to point at something. He was also mumbling under his breath. Ceylon moved closer to the patient to get a closer look at him. He seemed much more alert now, eyes wide open. There was also something swirling behind them—an emotion.

Fear.

Ceylon finally caught what he was saying under his breath; 'Untier'. She tilted her head. What did that m-

Then she heard something. Snarling, growling, scraping, stomping, slobbering. Some of the other patients and villagers craned their heads around as the noise grew louder. It was then that Ceylon looked out the window. And she froze up.

The gates of hell were waiting just outside, and they burst right open. A hulking monster tore through the wall beside Albert and Marius. The Liberi was only half awake when the creature busted in, but a bite into his shoulder rectified that. He screamed in horror and agony as the beast tore his arm off. Everybody that could run ran like Vampires out of hell. Eloise grabbed Albert's stretcher and rolled him out of the building as fast as she could.

The monster made a sweep with its claws at Marius, but a swordsman parried the blow. Someone else grabbed and carried the young Liberi while a swordmen keep the beast occupied. The monster grabbed and hoisted the warrior up to its face, sniffing him. Both of the Hofers grabbed pitchforks and came to the grunt's defense. It swatted them to the side and chomped down on the guard's skull. it crushed the whole thing like a grape, then processed to devour the rest of his body. An archer fired arrows at the monster, but they all seemed to bounce off of its scaly skin.

A hand grabbed Ceylon by the shoulder and shook her. She spun around to see Cliffheart, just as horrified as she was. More swordsmen were charging at it, only to get obliterated. Just as it was about to finish off the last one, though, an explosion rocked the living room. The beast snarled as it turned to face a certain Perro wielding a grenade launcher.

"Go!" shouted Olegario. "I'll hold it off."

Both Operators nodded and sped off. They could hear the monster roar at the Sniper before it stormed toward him. Their ears picked up a few more blasts before they heard his scream. The monster stomped out of the farmstead, roaring at the top of its lungs before it gave chase. It managed to slash Ceylon across the back, but it didn't slow her down. Not while she had all that adrenaline in her system.

Anything that got between it and the ladies was thrown aside. Villagers, motorcycles, mailboxes, even a goddamned jeep. Nothing slowed it down as it hounded them all the way to the dropship. Mudrock was sitting there applying bandages to her wounds when the duo rushed by. She was about to ask what was the matter when she saw the monster behind them. She quickly drew her hammer and conjured up her shield before stepping between both parties.

The creature crashed into her barrier, stunning it long enough for her to dish out some swings of her own. She landed a few hits on its chest before it brought its arms down to deflect her blows. A headbutt threw her off-balance, allowing it to shatter her shields and slash at her abdomen. She snarled and stumbled back, clutching it. A quick glance revealed that it (thankfully) hadn't spilled her guts out. But while she was distracted, it grabbed her by the leg and threw her into the dropship.

The pilot inside screamed as the vessel was overturned. One of the wings snapped off and everything inside spilled onto the wall (floor?). Mudrock groaned as she rose onto her feet, not noticing the imprint she left on the ship's side. What she did notice was that her hammer was missing. She panicked, spinning her head around trying to find it. She spotted it some distance away in some rubble.

Unfortunately, the monster was between it and its wielder. And it was closing the distance fast. She considered making a break for her weapon, but her shields hadn't recharged yet. She opted to wait until they did rather than risk getting gutted by that abomination. By the time they did, however, the thing had hopped onto the ship's side. She waited for it to charge before rolling off of the downed vessel. Then she sprinted towards her hammer.

That turned out to be a critical error. The monster had the high ground and thus had no trouble pouncing on her. Before long it had broken through her shields again and grabbed her leg. It slammed her to the ground and wrapped its talons around her. She punched away at the creature's arm, trying to break something, anything. But its grip was ironclad.

The monster lowered its head to hers, sniffing and snarling at her. It hovered its other set of talons above her face, almost as if it were taunting her. It flicked its claw open and-

Someone leaped onto its back, grabbing one of the dorsal spines along its back to steady themselves. It roared as it felt something cut into its back. It recognized a blade anywhere and had the scars to prove it. But something felt off about it. It felt like the energy blasts those armored men would throw at its kind back home. Mudrock tilted her head to see Brändle, hollering with a toothy grin.

"Yeha!" he shouted. "Ride zhem like ze vind, cowboy!"

A burst of energy slammed into its shoulder, leaving a glowing purple mark on its skin. It snarled and shifted its gaze back toward the farm. Popping out from behind some fresh ruins was a hooded figure.

"That was for Olegario and Marius!" Melody shouted under the spellfire.

The abomination staggered under the bombardment and stabbing. Its grip loosened enough for Mudrock to slip out and make a mad dash for her hammer. The beast snarled in frustration and hopped on the other side of the airship for cover. It reached over its back and grabbed Brändle, slamming him to the ground. The Caprinae wheezed as all of his ribs splintered into a thousand pieces.

The monster swung its claw at the young man. He tried to block the blow with his sword, but the hand holding was sliced off. The Rebel let out a scream as his arm was severed, grabbing the bloodied stump with his remaining hand. The monster ripped his other one from the shoulder blade before it impaled him in the chest.

By the time Melody circled around to get a better shot, it was already too late. While his lungs were being flooded with his own blood, the beast ripped him in half. She let out a horrified gasp.

"BRANDLE!" she cried out.

Mudrock had just retrieved her weapon at that point. She heard the Whisperer scream and spun around in time to watch Brändle's remains fly to opposite ends of the village. She froze up as she recognized the pieces.

"No…" she said softly.

A battlecry sounded off in the distance. It was Erdmann, charging at the monster with his own hammer.

"You bastard!" Erdmann howled. "I'll tear out your very soul!"

The monster knocked him to the ground and stomped on his chest. While he had an Arts barrier like Mudrock, it was only good for blocking energy-based attacks. The horror had no trouble tearing through it and his armor, pinning him to the aircraft. Try as he might, he couldn't put up a decent defense against its talons. It wasn't long before his head rolled off into the distance.

A bolt whizzed past its head. It shifted its gaze toward the church and spotted Schwarz at its entrance.

"Nobody hurts Lady Ceylon and lives!" Schwarz declared.

She fired more at the beast, but it ducked and dodged under each one. It quickly closed the distance between it and its prey and tackled her. A rope wrapped around its arm before it could grab her. It turned its head to see Cliffheart.

"I'veeee got yoooou!" she shouted.

The monster just pulled its arm forward. Cliffheart went hurtling into the wall in front of it and slumped into a daze. Then it sniffed the air and found itself surrounded by normies. Normies tied up to chairs. Normies from the Wasteland.

The monster licked its lips. Finally, a real meal. All of the Wastelanders turned pale as it cast its gaze upon them. Some of them even pissed themselves when they recognized the creature.

"A Deathclaw?" whimpered a raider. "This fucking place has Deathclaws?!"

The creature turned to the raider in question. He clammed up as the beast slowly approached him, talons out. A bolt landed at its feet before it reached him. The Deathclaw looked up to see Schwarz glaring down at it with her crossbow. She was on a balcony above everyone.

The Deathclaw snarled as it found itself on the defense. It hopped around bolt fire until it found a stairway. It had her scent on it. The monster traced it back to the assassin but she was nowhere to be found. She must've fled further up.

It caught a whiff of her and followed it. It was now on the top floor of the church. It was dark and filled with all sorts of clutter. Props for plays, holiday decorations. And hanging from the center of the ceiling was an ancient bell.

Another smell caught its attention. It knelt down and its eyes picked up dark specks on the floor. Blood. Something was wounded recently. Something familiar. Its nose led it to some crates. They stood no chance against its talons.

A startled squick erupted from behind them. Rushing out of her ruined cover was Ceylon, still bearing a fresh clawmark on her back. A bolt struck it in the arm before it could even consider following the Liberi. It spun to see Schwarz running towards it, blade in hand. She let loose a volley of slashes, leaving all sorts of cuts on its skin.

The Deathclaw was on the defense again, head lowered and claws covering its underbelly. Every time it tried to return the favor with its trademark tools, the Feline dodged or sidestepped them. On many occasions, she fired a bolt from her crossbow, but those usually bounced off of its scaly armor.

The monster finally got lucky and grabbed the assassin by the leg. It slammed her to the floor and then threw her into the bell. It cracked and splintered into several pieces upon impact. One of them crashed on top of her, another into a raider's skull. Schwarz gasped for air as the wind was knocked out of her lungs. She tried to rise back up, but she was pinned under the bell's fragment. Her torso felt like hellfire and she coughed out some blood.

She twisted her head around to see her captives pissing themselves. The Deathclaw climbed down to the ground level and started eating the raider that got his skull cracked open. From there on out it butchered the rest. Milly was whimpering under her breath, pleading for her lover to rescue her. He never came.

Schwarz was looking around frantically for her weapon. Cliffheart was still out cold, and will probably be the monster's next victim once it's through with the raiders. She has no idea where Lady Ceylon was either. Hopefully, she ran off to someplace safe.

Schwarz finally caught a glint of light in the corner of her eye. There, right beside the stairway, was her crossbow. But she couldn't reach it. Not while she was pinned under some giant piece of copper.

Just as the Deathclaw moved towards the last raider, though, the ground began to quake. It stopped and started spinning its head around, sniffing the air. A hulking metal figure rammed into the creature, shouting at the top of its lungs. They swung a hammer coated in black energy and bashed away at the monster. Schwarz blinked. Was that… Mudrock?

It was her. And she was using Milly's Power Armor frame.

Mudrock shouted away at the Deathclaw in Sarkaz as she hammered it. Schwarz didn't know what she was saying, but she imagined it was rather foul. Someone pushed the literal weight off of her shoulders. She looked up to see Ceylon, offering her a hand. Schwarz accepted it and rose back onto her feet. Ceylon's Healing Arts washed over her body, numbing any pain she felt.

She pointed at Cliffheart's unconscious body. Schwarz nodded and ran off to the fallen Feline. Picking her up and slinging her over her shoulder, she followed Ceylon back up the steps. Lady Ceylon was kind enough to retrieve the crossbow along the way. Schwarz then sat Cliffheart down on an old carpet while Ceylon used her Healing Arts. After she was satisfied, she lowered some smelling salts near the explorer's nose.

Cliffheart awoke with a jolt, babbling like crazy. When she calmed down and examined her surroundings, she noticed the two women.

"Did we win?" she asked.

A rumble answered her question. The ladies looked over the balcony to see the Deathclaw throwing Mudrock over its shoulder and onto the floor. It hopped on top of her and began clawing away. Schwarz moved to the best angle she could find and installed a bayonet onto the crossbow's underside.

Its sides unfurled and expanded like wings. She steadied the weapon on the rotten railing of the balcony and held her breath. The Deathclaw had just torn through the frame's armor, exposing the user underneath. She was taking ragged breaths and sweating like crazy, blood dripping from her scalp. Just as the monster raised its claw, Schwarz fired at its eye.

It hit the mark. The monster screeched in agony as the organ was obliterated, stumbling back. It snapped its head towards Schwarz, roaring at the top of its lungs. It failed to notice the dark energy swirling around Mudrock's hammer, let alone that she had climbed out of the ruined Power Armor.

She struck one of the legs first. The beast buckled as the bones snapped, howling in pain. She broke an arm next, earning another screech. Schwarz fired another bolt at it, this time at its underbelly. The soft flesh exploded as the projectile ripped through. The beast fell onto the ground as its innards spilled out.

Mudrock was far from done. With the last of her strength, she hammered away at its skull. With one last warcry, she knocked the head clean off of its shoulders. The body twitched and spasmed before it finally expired.

Mudrock collapsed onto the floor. Her teammates rushed down the steps to help her back against a wall. She was covered in scratches, dirt, and blood. But she was still intact. She was still breathing.

She smiled weakly. "Sorry… it took me so long," she said. "That armor wasn't… exactly designed for Sarkaz."

Ceylon knelt down and began bandaging up the Defender. She tried her best to ignore the cesspool of blood and gore around her. She had no love for the Iron Devils after what they just did, but even she didn't believe that they deserved to be massacred like that. The only one still alive let his jaw drop to the floor as he stared at the Operators.

"Jesus," he breathed. "That's the first time I've ever seen anyone bludgeon a Deathclaw to… well, death."

Schwarz spun around to face the Raider with a death glare of her own. The bastard gulped.

"Deathclaw?" Schwarz asked.

"Uh, yeah. Apex predator of the Post-Apocalyptic Wasteland."

Ceylon looked up from her patient to tilt her head in confusion. "'Post-Apocalyptic'?" she noted.

"Not important," Schwarz said.

"What the she-panther said," the Iron Devil added.

Now it was Schwarz's turn to give him a confused look. "Panther?"

If the Raider weren't tied up to a chair and surrounded by his dead crewmates, he'd have facepalmed.

"My fucking god," he grumbled under his breath.

Everyone heard several jeeps pull up outside. Schwarz drew out her crossbow and peeked out the church entrance. She let out a sigh of relief as she recognized the figures hopping out.

Projekt Red was the first to approach the church, nose to the ground. She moved past the Feline and bolted back up when she saw the dead alien. Franka was the next one over, whistling at the sight.

"Damn," she swore. "Now I see why Red was so worried about y'all." She frowned as she examined the carnage. "Please tell that Scrawny over there's the leader."

Schwarz pointed at the mangled remains of Milly. Franka sighed.

"Shouldn't have asked. Any other casualties besides them?"

The assassin pointed outside. Already the rest of their squadmates were gathering the dead and preparing a pyre for them.

"Some local Infected were also killed," Schwarz noted. "If their bodies haven't dissipated yet, we need to remove them from the site ASAP."

Franka looked over at Ceylon and Mudrock. The latter had a mournful look on her face as the former patched her up. The Vulpo had three guesses as to what was souring her milk. She looked back at the fallen Dropship and cursed under her breath.

"Kal'tsit is gonna kill me," she said under her breath.

Some of the other Operators came to the church to assist with cleanup. Schwarz blinked as Nian entered the building and covered her mouth at the scene of the crime.

"Bleck," she gagged. "I think I'm gonna hurl."

"What the hell is she of all people doing here?" Schwarz asked, pointing at the divine shard.

Nian rolled her eyes. "Was on vacay until that douchebag's buddies ruined it," she retorted. "Figured that I'd be a good Samaritan and help y'all with their mess."

Schwarz looked back at Franka. "Does she know?" she whispered.

Franka nodded. "Already had an inkling before we arrived," she revealed.

Schwarz cursed. Great, more complications. She thought to herself.

Franka walked over to Mudrock. "How're ya feeling, gal?" she asked in a perky tone.

It wasn't as infectious as she hoped it was. "...not well," the Sarkaz confessed.

"Can you walk? Or at least use Arts?"

Mudrock nodded.

"We could use some help getting our ship upright again. Could you…?"

Mudrock's head rose up. She nodded again and grabbed her hammer. Ceylon followed her back to the craft, despite the warrior's protests. She knelt down and planted her hammer into the ground, concentrating. The earth around the airship began to shift and swirl as hands of stone and soil pressed themselves against the machine. When a heave, they pushed the craft back onto its feet.

Franka placed a reassuring hand on Mudrock's shoulder. "Thanks," she said softly. "Why don't you and Cliffheart get some rest inside while Ceylon stitches y'all up?"

"With all due respect, we might need to do a bit of cleaning before they can lie down," Ceylon pointed out.

Franka facepalmed. She whistled Jessica and Projekt Red over beside the dropship.

"Could ya two do some spring cleaning for these ladies?"

Both operators nodded as the ramp collapsed onto the ground with a heavy thud. Franka called Rangers and Schwarz over once all five ladies were inside.

"Liskarm and I are gonna be busy grilling Mr. Wasteland in the church," she told Rangers. "Can you two send out a private transmission to Amiya or Kal'tsit?"

Rangers nodded. "Of course," he said.

"What about me?" Schwarz asked.

Franka pointed at Schwarz's hair. "Go get some first aid," she ordered. "Unless you want Ceylon to drag your sweet ass inside."

Schwarz reached for her scalp. There was a warm fluid in her hair. She brought her hand back down and saw red stains on it. She sighed.

"Very well," she said.

Schwarz and Rangers walked over to the dropship while Franka and Liskarm entered the church. The younger Sniper plopped beside Cliffheart as her elder went into the cockpit. The pilot was still alive if a bit rattled by recent events.

"Excuse me," Rangers asked him. "But is the long-range communicator still operational?"

The young pilot nodded. "Y-yeah, it should be," he said.

"Good. I'm going to need some privacy for a few minutes. Why don't you help Ms. Doykos in the meantime?"

The man nodded again and exited the cockpit. Rangers booted up the ship's systems and dialed a number onto a touchscreen. A holographic projection of Amiya appeared in front of the glass.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Rangers," the Cautus said.

Rangers briefly bowed his head. "Good afternoon, milady," he said with a warm smile.

"Have you uncovered anything on Mr. Six?" Amiya asked.

Rangers put a couple of fingers to his chin. "Perhaps…" he reported. "More than we certainly anticipated."

Amiya tilted her cute little head. "Explain," she said.

Rangers sighed. "Let's just say that our quarry might've left the door open when he first arrived here," he began. "And we may need a handyman or two to patch up our ship."

---

Date: October 3rd, 1099

Location: Chernobog core city

Time: 3 PM

The trip to the safehouse hadn't been as long as the one to the Sarcophagus. No need for tiptoeing around when the area was clear. No mines to trigger or enemies to aggro. No mercs looking to collect your head or critters looking to chew on it. Just you, your company, and the silence of an abandoned city. Well, there was the magical shitstorm outside, but that hardly counts when you're underground.

The trio came upon a ladder. Lyudmila naturally was the first one up. She lifted the hatch just enough to inspect her surroundings. She looked back down at the Courier and motioned for him to climb. The dimensionally displaced duo complied and found themselves in a dusty old house.

Or rather, the basement of one. Lyudmila took out a flashlight and went over to a generator tucked away in a corner. After a brief inspection, she flipped the switch and the lights flickered to life. The trio was surrounded by several bunk beds, along with the occasional walls covered with posters, but Six couldn't read any of them. Most of them were worn out and those that were eligible were in Russian.

Ursine. A voice in his head corrected.

Not now, pinky. Six mentally retorted.

The group went upstairs to what appeared to be a kitchen. There were a couple of refrigerators, with several appliances on the counter. Six also noticed an oven and stove sitting against one of the walls. He knelt down beside and inspected each of them. Nothing worth salvaging from either machine. And something told him that any food in those fridges would've long since expired.

Lyudmila guided them through the living room and up the steps. Six blinked at the sight of a flatscreen TV on the way. It was smaller than the one Exusiai melted with his Plasma Defender, but the design was more or less the same. These people were able to compartmentalize their televisions?

The Perro- or was she a lupo?- opened a door and motioned for him to step inside. Before them was a workshop, like the one Aelius owned. The main difference was that this one was retrofitted from a child's bedroom if the baby's crib and dresser were any proof. There was a poster on the wall just above the main workbench.

It was a horned woman with snow-white hair and a black dress. There was a white blouse sticking out from a pitch-black coat. Tied around her left arm was an orange scarf, covered in ash. Her right hand carried a greatsword, but he wasn't familiar with the design. It wasn't like anything the Legion wielded back home.

In regards to fashion, she had an aristocratic appearance. Veronica would've fainted at the sight of her dress. But something felt off about her. The way she looked down at the viewer with those blood-red eyes sent chills down his spine. Then there's the orange splotches on the poser. Were those supposed to represent embers? What the hell was she? A she-devil?

"Quite a looker, ain't she?" Lyudmila said.

Six couldn't help but notice a hint of vitriol in her tone. "I guess," Six replied. "Who is that, though?"

"Talulah. The founder of this little union."

"[Intelligence 8] Talulah? Like 'Tuilelaith'?"

Lyudmila shrugged. "Hell if I know," she said. "But one thing's for certain; She lit one hell of a flame. Even after she lost the torch, others were able to pick it up."

Six looked around the workshop. There were crossbows, blades, even something resembling grenade launchers and mortars. Then his eyes fell upon a backpack. A metal backpack with exhaust powers on the sides. He picked it up and sat it on the work table.

"This what we came for?" he asked.

"One of the items," Lyudmila confirmed. "There should be a stash of grappling hooks nearby. Give me a minute."

Six nodded as the woman left the room. He glanced back at the device on the table. It somewhat resembled a model he purchased from Douglas's shop a couple of years ago. Apparently, the eastern coast developed them shortly before the War but never had the chance to distribute them before the bombs fell. ED-E's been carrying it around in subspace storage since then.

He grabbed a toolkit and opened the device up. He had been meaning to install his jetpack onto one of his suits of Power Armor, but he never found the time or drive to do so. Perhaps a quick review of aerodynamics will fix that.

The turbine was nothing special, mechanically speaking. It was just a miniaturized version of pre-war jet engines. Most air drawn in typically bypassed the inner machinery, while the rest went into the core. Glaives would then compress the air for it to be mixed with fuel in the combustion chamber. The mixture is then ignited and boom! You have liftoff. Well, the turbines have to turn to maintain it afterward, but hey.

But something seemed off about the design. For one, there was usually a hose to funnel the fuel into the combustion chamber. There wasn't one. For another, the actual source of power for the jetpack wasn't chemical in nature. It was another of those damn Originium batteries.

Six growled. Great, another tool gated off by fucking magic. He silently cursed.

[Arts 0/15] As if things weren't bad enough, the jump-pack seemingly developed a mind of its own. Without warning, it rocketed out through the window and into the city outside. Six cursed out loud and ran to the broken glass barrier. To his surprise, the Catastrophe had finally died out. No crimson clouds, no lightning bolts, no meteor showers. Not even ashes or dust raining down.

Lyudmila heard the commotion and ran back into the room with some wrist-mounted device on her arm.

"What happened?" she asked.

"The damn thing jumped out of my hands!" Six snapped.

"Did you try to dissect it while I was away?"

"Yes, why?"

"Because you need some level of Arts training to ignite the turbines, glupets. Seriously, how can you fire those guns and not know how to operate a jetpack?"

"Um…" Six turned away from the girl and back to the window.

Lyudmila put her hands on her hips as the Courier tried to ignore her. The jetpack left a visible trail, thankfully. Even better was that the incident had occurred in broad daylight. He just needed to follow the trail. He leaped out of the window and rolled onto the ground. His Pipboy noted that he lost some Health Points but that didn't concern him too much. His limbs weren't crippled and he was still alive. Lyudmila followed suit after him in a more graceful display. ED-E simply floated onto the earth.

The Courier tracked the device back to the Mayor's building. The architecture was neo-classical in design, reminding him of postcards of the DC area. Two Catastrophes had already bombarded the necropolis, yet it still stood proud among the rubble and ash. But it wasn't unscratched either.

There was evidence of a battle here. Craters, rubble, weapons. And bodies. Oh, so many bodies. Some of them had bear ears, others pointed ones and even horns. The latter group was a dead ringer for the locals he first fought in Kazdel. What were they called again? 'Sarkaz'?

So many have been stripped to the bone, many literally. Some of them were missing their attire and weapons. Probably the work of scavengers and raiders. Some might consider this defiling the dead. In Six's post-apocalyptic mind, it was just people doing whatever they could to survive.

Six noticed a mortar beside one and grabbed it. He tossed it to ED-E, who caught it with his tractor beam and added it to his inventory. He repeated the process with a crossbow, a small shield, and an axe. He had even come across bodies with jetpacks, but he ignored those. He was already in the middle of tracking one down. Then there were the larger bodies. They were rounder and heavier, their breastplates covered in pouches. They had shields the size of their torsos to boot.

[Strength 8/10] Six tried to pick one of them up, but it was too heavy for him. He grumbled for a moment before moving on. Lyudmila had this look on her face, though. Like she wanted to punch something or someone. He just ignored her. Finally, he found his jetpack at the feet of-

Six froze. This body wasn't laying on the ground like the others. It was standing upright at an angle, reaching down to grab… something. And even with that posture, it easily towered over every corpse in the area. It appeared to be the height of a Super Mutant, but it lacked the general hunchback of said beings.

The entity was heavily armored, maybe even power-armored judging by the fan in the chestplace. He could see exposed machinery in many parts of the user's suit. Gears, wires, hydraulics. Even tubes connecting to the back of its helmet. This definitely was Power Armor. And it has been in disrepair for some time.

As Six retrieved his jetpack and tossed it to ED-E, a torrent of thoughts swirled around in his skull. On the one hand, that Power Armor was more compact than any he had seen before. The engineer in him wanted to dissect it, tear it apart to see what advances this world had made in the field. But there was a foreboding atmosphere. The helmet didn't help with that deer-skull motif either.

Six turned around for input from Lyudmila. But she was just staring at the armor, frozen. The look in her eyes had changed into something mournful. Actually, scratch that, she seemed to be on the verge of shedding a tear. When she finally shook off her emotions, she walked over to the armor and gently laid a hand on its side.

"You seem awfully familiar with that armor," Six noted.

"With its wearer," she corrected him. "You remember that 'Aegis of the Infected' I mentioned back underground?"

"This guy was part of that group, I take it?"

She shook her head. "He was that Aegis. Merged his guerilla group with ours years ago."

Six did a double-take. "Th-this guy? What the hell was he?"

"Sarkaz. Wendigo, to be exact. Maybe even the last of his kind."

Six shuddered. "Wendigo? As in 'cannibalistic mutant'?"

He was caught off guard by a sharp slap across his helmet. Lyudmila was glaring at him now.

"He wasn't a monster, osel," she retorted. " And from what I recall, he found their rituals appalling."

As soon as his head stopped ringing, Six shook his head. He noticed two objects beside the armored titan. The first was a broken spear, its tip embedded into the earth not far from them. The other point of interest-a battered shield- was further back. Six was more interested in the blade and stashed it in his inventory. He could probably make a decent sword or dagger out of it if he had the right materials.

His gaze shifted back to the armor. "And what was his name?" Six asked.

Lyudmila shrugged. "Can't remember his real one," she confessed. "It was long and hard as hell to pronounce. Most people just called him 'Patriot'."

"Patriot? There a particular reason he stuck with such a title?"

"Let's just say that he is- …was an idealist."

Six looked back at the titan. This guy had ideals? He looked like an automaton from where he was standing. Then again, even weapons can develop minds of their own. Perhaps this one longed for a life without war. He couldn't be the first soldier to dream of such things.

The Courier took a closer look at the armor. There was a mesh underneath the plating and framework, some type of cushion perhaps? Certainly didn't resemble the jumpsuits used by the Brotherhood. Six circled around the back to find it covered by a cape. It was all worn and torn, but it still clung onto the body for dear life. Six gently brushed it aside to get a better look underneath.

There wasn't a valve handle like his world's Armor. How did he manage to get into his, let alone attach the plating? Just friction and prayer, or some type of locking mechanism? How heavy and durable were the plates anyway? Did he attach the armor onto the frame himself, or did he have to rely on a squire? A workbench maybe?

It took some fiddling, but Six found a gap under a leg's armor plating. Before he could feel for any sort of release switch, though, something flew at his feet. He shifted his footing just in time to avoid a flying knife. He traced its trajectory back to his guide. There was a fiery look in her eyes.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" she snarled.

"Uh, salvaging his Power Armor. Duh!"

"You mean defiling him."

"He's dead, Mila. He's not going to be needing-"

Mila pounced on the Courier before he could finish speaking. She had his blade at his neck guard, scraping against it.

"That man was a goddamn hero!" Lyudmila howled. "He gave the Infected hope. A reason to live! And your first instinct is to indulge in graverobbing? In cannibalism?"

Six's eyes twitched at the word 'cannibalism'. he was many things, but 'cannibal'? Some savage like Mortimer? Anger bubbled under his skull as he clawed at the earth, balling his fists up. He really wanted to clock the damn bitch for calling him that word. But he couldn't. Not while he still needed her.

"Rules of the Wasteland," he retorted. "If they're dead, anything they've got is up for grabs. And honestly, that's the most advanced piece of Power Armor I've ever seen. Leaving it to rust out here would be a fucking crime!"

"You're already committing a crime by looting his body."

"Yeah? And whose law am I breaking? Who has jurisdiction over this carcass of a city? From what I've seen, the Ursus have effectively abandoned it. And now that I think about it, why is his body still here? You said you joined up with the Aegis of the Infected, right? Then why hasn't he or his comrades received a proper burial, or at least a pyre?"

"Your point?"

"Seems like you and your buddies abandoned everyone here. Abandoned him."

Her hand was shaking now. "Why I- I'd never-! How dare you! How dare you!"

Lyudmila lifted her dagger into the air and held it over his head. But she had no strength to bring it crashing down into his visor. She just let her arm drop to the side. She sighed and rose off of the Courier. She refused to sheathe her weapon, though.

"But why would you want to study that particular suit of armor?" she asked. "That model's outdated, last I checked. You'd be better off looking in places like Columbia."

Six looked back at the 'monument'. "But it might be compatible with the armor from my homeland," he said. "I was able to upgrade this riot gear with the Ursus hazmat suit, wasn't I?"

Lyudmila narrowed her eyes for a bit. "Alright, fine," she said. "Play with your big-boy toys in the middle of an Oripathic hazard zone. It's not as if we're burning sunlight while your quarry runs off."

Six glared back at Lyudmila. As much as he hated to admit it, she was right. Chasing after the satellite's thieves was more important than indulging in his curiosity. With a huff, he followed her to an underground garage. He marked the armor's location on his Pip-Boy before hopping into his seat, though. If he ever found the time and resources to do so, he wanted to make a return trip here. Outdated or not, that was a unique set of Power Armor. And like any adventurer, he wanted to add it to his collection. He wasn't gonna forget it anytime soon.

The two of them eventually found another Boar and started it up. Six naturally took the passenger seat while ED-E tethered himself to the backseats. With a soft rumble, they drove out of the garage and into the wasteland. Six looked back at the decrepit heart of Chernobog as it disappeared into the horizon. A thousand questions were swirling around underneath his helmet. Some of them about the day hell's gates opened in the settlement. Some of them were about his guide and her connection to that hulking mutant.

He still didn't trust her all that much, but he didn't have much choice. She was the only person not interested in stealing his world's technology (thus far), and she certainly had no desire to follow him into Great Lungmen. Still, there were a lot of holes in her story. How did she even know where to find the Sarcophagus? What- or who- was this "Aegis of the Infected"? Why was their body (or bodies) here in the heart of one of the biggest disasters of this world's history? What did that mercenary mean when they called her 'Crownslayer'?

Then there was the city itself. Only one of its platforms decoupled from the main body. Why? Was the mayor abandoning his own people, leaving them at the mercy of nature's wrath? What the fucking hell happened at that school? Was it the only one to descend into a bloodbath or did all of them suffer a similar fate? Who the fuck would force such scenarios on fucking kids!?

And there was the issue of his own secrets. He had already flashed his exotic musketry in front of her during their time together more times than he could count. Not just his guns, but also energy weapons and even Power Armor. She wasn't oblivious to the mechanisms of her world's firearms and no doubt has a shitload of questions about his by now. He could lie and say something about not specializing in the same field as some Casters. But would she really buy it, especially since she has some understanding of Arts herself?

And then there's his real mission: Find out who the hell started this chain of events. First, he needed to get off of his ass and actually translate a certain portion of that holotape. He'll do it while she sleeps. Less chance of her listening in on the recording. Speaking of his quarry…

"How long before we get to Great Lungmen?" Six asked.

Lyudmila tapped the dashboard and a chart popped up on the screen. She took a quick glance at it before returning her attention to the desert.

"According to this, probably about three-to-seven days," she calculated.

"You're shitting me."

"Wish I was. Nomadic cities rarely stop for anything these days. The only time they do is to either mine for resources or split apart and scatter around incoming Catastrophes."

Six grumbled under his breath. "Fucking magic shitstorms."

"Look on the bright side, at least we can track its signal."

Six leaned against the door and gazed out into the wasteland.

It'll be a miracle if New Vegas survives without me for this long. He bitterly thought to himself. Hopefully, it'll still be standing when I find my way home.

Notes:

Whew! Finally, we've got that arc out of the way. Sorry, it took some long. Some things came up in life. A couple of relatives got hospitalized and I had to tend to them. Don't worry, it wasn't because of a certain plague. The family dog has seen better days, though, and has had some recent visits to two different vets. Add that to all the stuff I wanted to cram in and… well… This is honestly the longest chapter I've ever written so far. Hope y'all don't mind the word count.

But enough about that, let's dive into the juicy bits.

First of all, the raid. I've been wanting to put someone in Power Armor against one of our esteemed Operators. Mudrock was originally gonna conjure up a Golem or two against Milly and/or the Deathclaw, but then I remembered how it'd affect her health. And something told me that Ceylon wasn't going to let that slide, even if it was perfectly justified.

And then we have the Deathclaw. Originally it was gonna be two of those bastards. One for Staubstadt, one for Müllstad. The one for the former site was removed for a couple of reasons. For one, it would've made this chapter even longer and probably more chaotic and confusing. For another, Deathclaw behavior hasn't always been consistent in the Fallout games. New Vegas makes them out as pack animals, while the Eastern Coast games present them as more solitary. Different environments calling for different pressures and rules, perhaps? Oh, and I figured that Franka and her team would've whipped the floor with their Arts and some ill-gotten firearms. Wouldn't have made a compelling narrative at the time.

And poor Mudrock. First she had to watch her buddies fall one by one on the journey to Kazdel. Now she has to watch more of them die to terrors from another world entirely. And while we're talking about her, let's discuss her change of attire during the Deathclaw's rampage. Ever since I saw her initial artwork, I was praying for Arknights to present us with some type of Powered Armor. Something like Fallout's own suits or at least something akin to Halo's MJOLNIR. I was slightly disappointed when I found out that it was just a hazmat suit with an exoskeleton on the outside. So I basically indulge myself with some wish fulfillment here.

And then there's Six and Crownslayer. Yes, I threw in Patriot and his Guerilla unit to spike up some drama between the two of them. As a Playable Character, it's practically in Six's nature to loot from the dead. And we have a pseudo-explanation as to how the hell ED-E is carrying so much shit around. Is it a handwave of science? Yes, but so is a lot of stuff in Fallout. I thought of referring to it as 'Mass Shifting' a-la Transformers. Another reference instead made the cut. See if you can find it.

Next chapter is gonna be the start of a smaller arc. Just Six and Lyudmila on the road while Rhodes Island does some research and cleanup. Maybe Franka's group takes a look at Ascheufer while they wait for help. There're probably some glowing husks still prowling about. And then there's still the radio silence on the Doktah's end.

As for our Courier… it'll be more about maintaining his trust with Lyudmila. And how he'll react to the rest of the world and vice versa. There's a wandering medic (or two. Maybe three?) that I've been wanting him to meet for some time now. He could use a lesson in Xenobiology. Maybe some on Oripathy to hammer home what he's gotten himself into. And depending on who those wandering souls are, he may find butt heads with a certain knight or two. We'll have to wait and see with the recent Limited Banner on the horizon.

Tune in next time for Let Nothing Fall to Chance, Chapter 11; Roadside Outings!

Chapter 12: Roadside Outing

Summary:

Today is the perfect day to relax! What, there’s still work to be done? Come on!

Date: October 3rd, 1099

8:36 PM - Clear skies

The border between Ursus and Yanese Wastelands

The sun had just descended on the horizon. Gone was its empyreal palette and brushes. Darkness took the reigns, granting sovereignty to the stars and twin moons. Under their rule, the world was granted a rebreather and a chance to cool down. Some use the time to get some shut-eye, others to explore and hunt. For a certain trio, it was the former.

Six was sitting on a rock examining a Metal Crab. Or rather, his sketches of one. They ran into another pack of them earlier and Six used the opportunity to conduct an autopsy on them. Not only did it give him insight into the native fauna's biology, but it also proved to be an alleviant. After chugging on adrenaline for the past few days, he finally had a chance to relax.

The creatures reminded him of reports of the Eastern Coast's Mirelurks. Not humanoid like the lakelurks of the Mojave wasteland (supposedly those descended from desert turtles), but closer to arachnids or crustaceans. Invertebrates, check. An exoskeleton and pincers, check. Walking along its sides, check. Segmented body, check. Hell, they even had gills to his surprise.

Lyudmila had already gathered some wood for ED-E to ignite. The robot fired its Tesla Cannon and the flames burst into being. The young woman plopped her hide onto the ground and brought her hands closer to the flames. She had already removed the hazmat suit in favor of her usual attire. Six, by contrast, refused to change out of his Elite Riot Gear. When asked, he merely said a single word; "Wasteland".

The Courier initially wanted to cook the meat he harvested from the Metal Crabs. While he was certain that he removed all of the excess shrapnel from the flesh, Lyudmila shot the idea down. It turned out that their bodies also contained a considerable amount of toxins (probably a byproduct of their metallic exoskeleton). They'd have to ferment it first, and that usually took at least a week. As far as she was concerned, they were better off salting and selling the meat to local butchers. They usually had the space and materials to ferment it themselves.

Lyudmila glanced back at the stranger. In all her life, she never met someone as eccentric as the Courier. Sure, Patriot was a relic and Mephisto was a lunatic, but she could still read them. Six, by comparison, was an enigma. He had no obvious markers to identify his race. No ears, no tails, no horns or antlers. Not even wings or halos. Was he one of those Vampires she kept hearing about? Or perhaps an Ægir?

And then there was his collection of firearms. He didn't appear to be a Sankta, yet he had no issue using any of them. Hell, he even used a minigun right at the Sarcophagus's doorsteps. But strangest of all was that some of them fired this green sludge or lasers. She wasn't an expert in guns, but she was fairly certain you needed a good understanding of Arts to even use a pistol. Yet he accidentally set off the jetpack and nearly lost his fingers like some noob.

When she asked about the guns, he claimed that he found and scavenged them throughout his travels on the western coast. When pressed about how they functioned, he shrugged.

"Experimental weapons from bygone civilization or corporation?" he casually suggested.

She didn't buy it. If that were the case, others would've found some by now too. There would've been an arms race. But that wasn't the only thing about him that bothered her.

There were also his questions about Lungmen and Ursus. It was obvious that he knew little about the developed nations of Terra. Just like before, Six chalked it up to being a Wastelander. That excuse did fly with her this time. But only this time.

She thought back to their first encounter, their deal in Chernobog. He said that something was taken from him, but he never said what. She was somewhat curious about that. What could possibly be so important that he'd rather sneak his way into the city than through due process? Again, she could chalk that up to being a wastelander. Anyone born outside of civilization can't be expected to know anything about laws, after all.

She looked back at the campfire. While she had been around plenty of them in her life, it had been a while since she sat with someone else. Part of her mind wanted to dig up some old memories. Memories of Reunion. Try as she might, some of them managed to bleed out.

She remembered sitting in a snowstorm up north. She remembered how many of her squadmates cuddled around the fire with thin-as-hell blankets, trying to keep themselves warm. She remembered the bland potato soup and stale bread their cook served them. The world was as harsh as it was routine. Nothing but trying to survive out in the cold while they searched for gear.

She cast another glance back at the Courier. This man claimed to be from the wasteland, yes? Was his life any different from hers? How much of it was spent scrounging around for food and shelter? Has he ever had any family? Or did he only have himself to rely on?

She heard of hardy wasteland gangs out west. Rusthammers, wasn't it? Or were they less of a gang and more of a loose coalition of them? The stories she heard about them varied from one person to the next. Some painted them as monsters, others as noble savages. All of them could agree on one thing, though; they were survivors. Just like the Infected.

The Courier screamed 'survivor' to the Lupo. Yet he also surprised her with his scientific approach to things. She recalled how he treated her wounds back in Chernobog, seeing those samples of originium under a mircoscope. She remembered his questioning about the Metal Crabs. And just recently he ran an autopsy on them like some mad scientist. She could sense the joy behind his studies and sketch.

This man wasn't a simple survivalist. He was a bookworm with a hunger for knowledge. Perhaps even a borderline glut in that regard. She had better watch what she says around him. If he found out about Reunion's role in Chernobog's downfall- or worse yet her role in all that…

She shook off that train of thought. She left that life behind her long ago. Frankly, it was a miracle that her mentor welcomed her back in Siracusa after all that she had done. More so that she let her revisit the sight of her first tragedy. And also her greatest sin.

She looked at ED-E. In all her travels and battles, she had never encountered a machine that could disintegrate people. Her understanding of science was rather flimsy, but her father did imbue her with some trivia prior to his death.

"How much energy would you need to vaporize someone, Mila?"

"I dunno. Two car batteries?

"Nyet. Nearly three gigajoules. About the same intensity as a lightning bolt."

It wasn't uncommon for Casters to incinerate people. Hell, she watched Talulah vaporize an entire plaza during Chernobog's demise. Drones could fire Arts blasts, but nothing like ED-E or Reunion's founder. How the hell could something carry that much power? Now that she thought about it, she had never read anything about a machine resembling the metal eyeball. Did Six 'scavenge' him from out west too?

Six had put away his sketchbook and drew out that rifle from the necropolis. She didn't know why but for some reason it felt familiar to her. Was it a soldier's weapon? As far as she was aware, none of their snipers carried rifles. Perhaps it belonged to an Ursus soldier or a Rhodes Islander? Six himself seemed to be as perplexed by it as she is. Probably more accustomed to Originium crystals than pneumatic systems.

He traced his fingers across its surface, almost in a trance. He gently shook his head and wrapped its strap around his chest, sheathing the weapon behind him. Now he was looking back at her. A small part of her wanted to gulp. While he was generally friendly to her thus far, he still had an intimidating silhouette.

"You should get some rest," he suggested.

Lyudmila narrowed her eyes. "I've had plenty back in Chernobog," she said.

"Lying unconscious while bleeding out doesn't count as rest," Six retorted.

"What about you? Don't you need some rest?"

"Already got some after I bandaged you up."

"You were working on some secret project when I woke up."

"Because I woke up before you. I just decided to pass the time by doing something productive."

Lyudmila rolled her eyes.

"Look, I can get some shut-eye while you drive tomorrow," Six said. "You focus on recharging your batteries while I stand watch."

"How do I know you won't stab me while I'm asleep?"

"If I wanted you dead, I would've left you in the last Boar. Besides, you're more familiar with this side of Terra than I am. And uh… you're probably a better driver than me anyway."

Lyudmila stifled a giggle. "Excuse me?" she said. "I thought you drove to Chernobog when we met?"

"It was my first time driving," Six revealed. "Stole it from a crime boss in Siracusa."

The girl blinked. "You stole from one of the Dodici Famiglie?" she asked in disbelief.

"Depends on if the Diavoli Neri counts as one of them."

She tilted her head. "Never heard of them," she said. "Sounds more like you ran into some small-time goons looking to strike big. Is their boss still alive?"

Six placed a hand on his chin. Aelius referred to their gang as a hydra, stretching all across Terra. He could have been bluffing, of course. But then again a certain cabal had their tendrils in every American industry before the bombs fell.

"Probably not," Six said. "Hopefully not. But then again, he may have just been the leader of a cell. Part of a larger organization."

Lyudmila shrugged. "Siracusa's equilibrium has never been stable compared to other countries," she said. "Not since it broke off from Leithanien, and certainly not since the recent power vacuum."

"Power vacuum?" Six asked.

"Da, one of the big families was purged by Signora Sicilia half a decade ago. Ever since then, everyone's been trying to fill the void."

So that's why Mostima called the country volatile. Six thought to himself. Glad I got out of there while I still could.

Lyudmila took out a bedroll from the trunk of the Boar and unfurled it on the ground. Six lifted his helmet up to take a sip of black coffee as the girl retrieved a backpack. She removed her mask and hoodie, placing them inside. When she turned around and walked back to her bedroll, Six blinked. Even if she couldn't see his face, she could tell that he was gawking at her.

"What?" she asked in an annoyed tone.

"...just caught off guard is all," Six said.

Lyudmila scoffed. "That wristwatch has a clock on it, right?" she asked.

"Yeah. Got a particular time you want to get up at?"

"You."

Six tilted his head in confusion before he understood the joke. The girl snickered as she slipped into her bedroll. Six meanwhile grumbled under his breath as he raised his PIP-Boy and set an alarm. He waited for a few minutes before taking a look at the girl again. She was sound asleep.

Good. He can finally get off of his lazy ass and get to work on translating a certain portion of a certain Holotape.

"How are your batteries, buddy?" Six asked ED-E.

The robot chirped some positive beeps at him.

"Good. Gonna need an extra optic while I do some homework. Can you stand- erm, float guard?"

ED-E emitted some acknowledging bleeps before it started patrolling the campsite. Six removed the extra tubing from the Infected Patrol suit and placed it in his backpack. No point in leaving it on if there wasn't an oripathic hazard present. Then he plopped his butt back onto his rock and took out some items; The Paladin's Holotape, a notebook, a pencil, and a sharpener for the writing utensil.

He slapped the Holotape into his Pipboy, testing out its connection to his helmet's radio. They were connected. Good. She couldn't listen in on him while he worked. With a smile, he pushed the Play button.

Translating one language to another was more difficult than he anticipated. For the most part, the thieves were using Yanese, or rather, this world's equivalent to Chinese. He was no linguist, but he was fairly certain that there were at least two variations of the language back home. A traditional one, and a simplified, more modern incarnation. This exchange appeared to be leaning towards the latter, from what little his little sessions have gleaned. It was gonna take more time to compile a complete translation.

An alarm went off on his Pipboy. He looked up at the sky to see the sun rising. It was 6 AM.

The Courier slipped his notes and holotape back into his backpack for the time being. He'll proofread his translations when the sun set again. He thought about using a gentle nudge to wake Lyudmila, but then he remembered both the times she held a knife at his neck guard. So he settled for playing one of his music tapes to wake her. And his song of choice?

Lazy Day Blues.

Lyudmila stirred around in her bedroll before waking up. She stretched her arms out with a yawn and lazily looked up at the Courier.

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty," Six greeted.

The redhead rolled her eyes and climbed out of bed. She rolled it up and placed it back into the trunk bed of the Boar. She reclaimed her hoodie and mask but didn't bother to don the latter. She took a seat beside the campfire's ashes and took out a small bar. It looked like candy or an MRE to the alien. She glanced up at him.

"You want some?" she asked with her mouth full.

Six flashed an old lunchbox at her. "Already had breakfast," he said. "You got enough shuteye?"

Mila nodded. "What about you, though?" she asked. "It'll be a bumpy road ahead."

"I'm used to roughin' it," Six said with a shrug. "Can't be picky about my sleeping spots out here."

Soon as she finished eating, Lyudmila donned her mask and led the duo back to the Boar. She took up the driver's seat again while Six began fiddling with his. The seat rolled and leaned back some, allowing him to prop his feet up on the dashboard. She cast a glare at him as he crossed his limbs and nodded off. ED-E tethered itself to the backseat, emitting some beeps. Lyudmila revved up the engine and drove everyone off into the distance.

Lyudmila fiddled around with the radio before she managed to get a signal. It was coming from an Ursus city, judging from the language. She scowled at the jingoistic lyrics and shuffled around playlists and stations until she found an old favorite of hers.

She smiled as electric bass crooned out of the radio. She could've gone for the hardcore stuff, but she was worried that her 'friend' would shoot the radio. ED-E made some inquisitive beeps as the music poured out.

"What, you people never heard bass before?"

The robot produced some negative chirps. She raised an eyebrow.

"Really? All you listen to is country?"

Again some negative beeps, followed by more… expository ones? She had a general idea behind the attitude of its sounds, but not an actual translation. Why the hell was she even talking to it anyway? Oh right, the only other human was sound asleep.

"I have no idea what the hell you're saying," Lyudmila said. "How about we stick to da-or-nyet questions?"

The robot chirped in agreement.

"Alright," she said. "Are you two really from out west?"

Positive beep.

"Do you have jazz?"

Another positive chirp.

"Rock?"

And another.

"Dubstep?"

Confused beeping. She seemed as perplexed as the robot was. What kind of people was Six raised by? Some ancient husks? She shook her head.

"Alright, that's enough," she said. "My head's gonna explode if this keeps up."

The robot made some coy beeps at her remark. She sighed and grumbled under her breath. This was going to be a long drive.

---

Date: October 1st, 1099

Location: Müllstad

Time: 10:00 PM

Back in the past, nighttime had also descended upon another group of heroes. Some of them slept onboard the dropship, others shared rooms with the locals. Ceylon and Eolise were tending to the wounded while Red and Rangers stood guard. Liskarm and Franka stayed in the church interrogating the last of the Raiders.

The bastard- who referred to himself as 'Short Circuit'-claimed to have come from a post-apocalyptic wasteland. From a world that drowned itself in atomic flame after depleting most of its resources. A world rife with mutants, rampant robots, marauders like his gang, and so much more. The two ladies tried to convince him that he wasn't in America anymore, but he refused to believe them. He kept insisting that he was still on Earth, that they were all muties. After an hour of arguing, they gave up on trying to drill some sense into him and just rolled with it.

The thing that disturbed Franka the most was his description of the atomic bomb. Terra was no stranger to biohazards. She had enough experience in Blacksteel to know what radiation and Oripathy can do to a person. But the way Circuit spoke of nuclear warheads implied an altogether different kind of horror. The heat produced by a nuke was strong enough to vaporize anything at the epicenter. So strong was the blast that it practically bleached the affected area and burned the victims' shadows onto the nearest surface. The shockwave alone would shatter bones and rupture organs for miles around. And even if you managed to avoid all of that, you'd be at the mercy of radioactive fallout.

The man then shifted focus onto the mutants. Ghouls were people who were lucky (or unlucky, depending on who you asked) enough to survive the bombardment of radiation. While they developed a heavy resistance to Rads and enjoyed a prolonged life, it also ravaged their physical form and rendered them sterile. And to add salt to their wounds, there was the danger of them regressing into feral beasts.

Needless to say, many 'smoothskins' tended to discriminate against them. Franka couldn't help but pity them. Hell, she'd probably even sympathize with them, given what the Infected go through on Terra. That being said, there wasn't a Ghoul equivalent of Reunion as far as Circuit was aware. Considering that the Iron Devils welcomed one among their ranks, perhaps the Wasteland was more tolerant of Ghouls than Terra was of the Infected. Now she was starting to feel a bit envious of them.

The stories of the mutant fauna were certainly interesting, to say the least. Not all of the creatures were a product of the post-apocalyptic ecosystems. In fact, many of them started out as experiments conducted by various Pre-War factions. She was shocked to learn that the Deathclaws were reportedly one of such projects. She was even more disturbed by the raider's stories of the Super Mutants.

Bad enough that Terra's nations used Oripathy as a bioweapon, but an artificial virus? One that could rapidly induce mutations in a person? That sounded like something from a horror flick. Even more disturbing was how certain groups of them leaned towards a more… carnivorous diet on the Eastern shores of his home continent.

She asked about the factions of his homeland. Circuit listed off several at the top of his head; The New California Republic. Caesar's Legion. The Brotherhood of Steel. Unsurprisingly, he had a less than flattering view of them.

"NCR?" Short Circuit laughed. "They're nothing but a sad little parody of the Old World. They'll talk your ear off about freedom, but they're just an imperialistic den of lazy-ass Brahmin lords. Greedy, ravenous. Won't be long before they succumb to hunger strikes like Uncle Sam. Caesar's Legion on the other hand cosplays as an even Older World. They might be an army of badasses, but deep down they're mindless cultists. The second their beloved emperor kicks the bucket, they'll lose their minds and tear each other apart. And the Brotherhood? Tsk! Technophiles who cower in bunkers. The only time they venture out to the surface is to search radioactive ruins for bits and pieces."

"And you consider yourself better than all of them?" Liskarm asked.

The man snorted. "Pff, as if!" he said. "I just don't give a damna bout window dressing as much as they do. It's survival of the fittest, baby. We're all marauders back home."

Both ladies glanced at one another. They switched the topic to his world's technology. Particularly those Energy Weapons. The man shrugged.

"The bosses could probably tell you all the science behind it," he said. "Assuming any of them are left."

"And who would they be?" Liskarm asked.

"You already know Milly. She's the main muscle of our gang. Or was, before she became chow. The actual head honcho is her husband, Jigsaw. That glorious bastard has a knack for explosives and tech. All thanks to Bronte of course. Helps that he's a ghoul with a century's worth of technical knowledge. And I think there's some smooth-talker from out east. That guy screamed 'greenhorn' to me. What was his name again? Omalie, was it?"

Franka tilted her head. Jigsaw? Why did she feel like she heard that name before?

"A friend of mine mentioned that name recently," Franka recalled. "Wasn't Milly looking for him?"

Circuit nodded. "He vanished just before we got warped. Between you and me, I think he kicked the bucket too. We found his rocket launcher and some blood stains under some rubble. Never found the body, though."

"If he had Oripathy, then it's liekly that his remains disintegrated upon death," Liskarm said.

The alien blinked. "Jesus," he swore. "No wonder he wanted to use slave labor down in the mines."

"Mines?"

"Yeah. We've been slapping as many slave collars as we could on anybody and having them work in some mines. The stuff they extracted resembled something from Pre-War books. Some type of volcanic glass."

"I think the word you're looking for is 'Obsidian'."

"Yeah, that. Except that it tended to give off this reddish glow. Some of it was carted down to the bottom level. Probably for the damn Obelisk that teleported us in the first place. Not sure what happened to the rest, though. I imagine it was given to our benefactors."

Both ladies exchanged concerned glances with each other. This was screaming 'Klitschko' to them.

"And who are these benefactors?"

The man shrugged. "Hell if I know," he confessed. "The Big Four were rather tight-lipped about it. All I know is that they were the ones that gave us our hideout in the first place. Laser guns too. Chances are that they also built- or at least discovered- the teleporter that zapped us."

Franka and Liskarm raised their eyebrows. As far as they were aware, Klitschko wasn't an engineer. Both ladies decided to scratch him off their list of suspects. Then again, he's been dead for a while now anyway. Still, there was one more question burning in the back of their minds.

"Do you know anyone by the name of Courier Six?" Liskarm asked.

The man tilted his head before stifling a laugh. "Courier Six'? Who in their fucking mind would call themselves-"

Then he stopped. "Hold up, one of our latest recruits did mention someone with that kinda name."

Franka's ears perked up. "Really? What did he say?"

"All sorts of crazy shit. Supposedly he was just a delivery boy that got shot in the head. Rose from his grave to put his assailant into theirs. And then he overthrew some shadowy overlord and set out to conquer the Mojave Wasteland. A cowboy taking out a whole tribe of raiders is one thing, but driving back two big-ass armies at Hoover Dam? With nothing but his wits? That's some fucking bullshit there. I never believed in those campfire stories about the Vault Dweller and their grandkid. I sure as hell don't take some mailman-turned-monarch as gospel."

Liskarm leaned towards Franka. "Is that everything we need to know?" she whispered into her partner's ear.

"Almost," she whispered back. "Just need to know one more detail."

Franka looked back at their esteemed 'guest'. "Where's your base of operations?" she asked.

The man snorted. "Why? You've got a death wish?" he asked back.

"I'm Infected pal. I'm used to having a staring contest with the grim reaper."

The man narrowed his eyes. "And why should I tell you?"

"Uh, because your buddies are toast?"

"You make it sound as if I ever cared about them."

"And what about their buddies? How do you think they'll react when they learn that you're all that's left of this squad? Do you think they'd welcome you back with open arms after this disaster?"

She knelt her face down to his level. "You have nothing left to defend. Why protect their skin when you should be focusing on yours?"

The man snorted again. "What? You're offering me freedom?"

"I'd say a chance for a new beginning. A chance to break away from the old gang and build a new one."

The Raider paused. "... I'll admit that I haven't been the biggest fan of the Iron Devils' policies. Raiding technology and building killer robots? Hell yeah! But working with cloak-and-dagger types? Someone that might just backstab you for shits and giggles? Nuh-uh. If you really want to meet the grim reaper, they're holed up in Pluto Mines. Just outside of Legion territory in Colorado."

She nodded. "Alrighty then. Now let's get you out of th-"

A bolt embedded itself between his eyes before she could untie him. Franka stifled a startled yelp as the impact threw the corpse (and chair) onto its back. Both Operators spun around with their weapons drawn to see Schwarz at the church entrance. She had her crossbow out, bayonet still attached to its underside. Her head wound had been bandaged up too.

"Schwarz!?" Franka shouted. "Where the hell- when the hell did you get here?"

"Around when he mentioned capturing slaves," the assassin replied. "It sounded like you were making a plea deal with him."

"We were gonna release him into the village's custody! They have the right to pass judgment onto him."

"So do I. He and his fellow Raiders wanted to harm Milady."

"They wanted to harm everyone. Hell, they've already taken the lives of some of the villagers. Shouldn't their buddies and families get a say too?"

"I've already spoken with some of them. Many wished to see him bleed for his crimes."

"But did any of them ask you to carry out judgment on their behalf?" Liskarm asked. "Or were you looking for an excuse to execute him at the earliest opportunity?"

Schwarz didn't answer her.

"Why are you here anyway?" Franka asked. "I thought you were getting patched up by Ceylon and that old lady."

"They just finished," Schwarz said. "Lady Ceylon wanted me to deliver the Courier's portrait to you."

"Portrait? Someone drew him while we were away?"

"Yes. Milady was going to hand you this herself, but after everything that occurred today…"

Schwarz took out a paper from her pouch and handed it to her squad leader. Liskarm moved over to her friend's shoulder and examined the drawing with her. It was black-and-white for the most part, with the eyes colored in a rich- if caustic- green. Franka whistled at the man's face.

"Hel-lo handsome!" she exclaimed.

Schwarz clasped her fingers on the bridge of her nose. "Oh not you too," she moaned.

"What? He's a hunk. Seriously, he'd give Midnight and Executor a run for their money. Then again, he seems to be as much a brooder as you and Broca. You three could use someone to lighten up the mood. Has everyone else seen this?"

"Yes," Schwarz confirmed. "Including Nian, unfortunately."

"Lemme guess, she wants to rope him into one of her b-movies."

"As the lead actor."

"Sheesh!"

LIskarm interrupted their conversation with a coarse "Ahem!". Both ladies turned to see her pointing at the recently deceased with her thumb. Franka let out a nervous giggle.

"Oh, right. Him," she remembered. "We'll uh, bury him or something right now. Liskarm, can you be a dear and grab a light and shovel for me?"

The Vouivre nodded and ran to a room in the back of the abandoned church. Franka looked back at Schwarz.

"And speaking of dead bodies, how're our John Does and Tinmen? Are they ready for their autopsies back at base?"

Schwarz nodded. "Magallan had some spare Arts units to help with preserving the bodies. Hopefully, they'll last long enough for the flight back."

"And the monster?"

"Some of its remains have been set aside for our scientists. Bones, claws, skull."

"Set aside? What-"

Her nose caught a whiff of smoke. She shoved the assassin aside and ran outside. To her surprise, there were several rotisserie spits at the town square. Each one held a piece of the monster, roasting its flesh over bonfires. Liskarm returned with the shovel and a lantern, blinking at the sight before them.

"They're eating it?" the wyvern-lady said in disbelief.

Schwarz nodded. Franka swore she had a slight smirk on her face.

"That creature ate and tore through many of their loved ones," she recalled. "It's only fitting that it became their meal."

"Damn, now that's some fine poetry right there," Franka remarked.

Liskarm handed Franka the shovel and lantern. The Vulpo lit the latter while her partner retrieved the Raider's corpse. Franka's fox ears bent downwards as she clasped her nose shut. She forgot how the dead jettisoned their weight upon expiration. Schwarz motioned for them to follow and she led them to the graveyard.

It was rare to see such a thing outside of nomadic cities. Most people don't bother to leave a gravestone out in the wild. Not if- no, when- a Catastrophe would just bury it under obsidian hellfire. But some go out of their way to carve up some marker or another anyway. Today they had a particular Caster carve some for them.

And speaking of the devil, there she was. She was kneeling at the tombstone of one of her fellow Sarkaz. Not all of the villagers were lucky enough to receive a proper burial like him, though. Many of them were Infected and had all disintegrated in the chaos before they could be buried. The most they got was a small plaque containing their names. One of them was another comrade of Mudrock's.

The Defender was setting his blade atop the monument when the ladies found a spot to bury the last Raider. It was beside Milly's own grave. Franka was rather surprised that the villagers were willing to loan some of their land to the ones that defiled it. According to Eolisie, they did the same for another gang that assaulted their village. When she asked why they buried their aggressors, she responded with the following.

"Someone has to remember the dead," she told the Operators. "To remind us that death doesn't discriminate. Infected, normies, Sarkaz, Ursus, Wastelanders, city folk. We all return to the well of souls one day. Oh everybody resents those bastards for their atrocities, but we mustn't forget. We forget, we grow complacent. We grow complacent, we open ourselves up to more attacks, to more tragedy. Their graves will remind us to steel ourselves."

Mudrock noticed the trio's presence and turned to see them bury Short-Circuit.

"Is he the last one?" she asked.

Franka noted a faint drop of vitriol in her voice. She couldn't blame her.

"Yeah," she replied. "His name was Short-Circuit."

Mudrock nodded, conjuring up another tombstone of clay. With a wave of her hand, an engraving appeared on its face as it hardened into stone. It read;

Short-Circuit. Murderer. Bandit. Defiler. May he burn in whatever hell spawned him.

If only she knew… Franka thought to herself.

Mudrock rose onto her feet and walked over to one of the villager's huts. They and the Operators spent the past few hours rebuilding as much of the settlement as possible. Not just the houses, but also defenses. Guard posts, fences, watchtowers, sandbags. Right now it was late, though. Everybody needed to get some shuteye. It'll be some time before their repair crew arrives.

Franka and Liskarm set up a couple of bedrolls inside the dropship. The pilot had already fallen asleep in his chair, feet propped up on the steering wheel. She could berate him for his posture, but she wasn't Doberman. She'll let it slide. After all, she'd probably do the same thing in his shoes.

Franka yawned and curled up in her blanket. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day. Maybe even a busy week. She could feel it. She only hoped that it would be easier from here on out. With her luck, though, it wasn't.

---

Date: October 6th, 1099

Location: Wilderness beyond the border of the Empire of Ursus

Time: 3 PM

The trio had been on the road for the past couple of days. It was relatively quiet for the most part, peaceful even. No raiders, no animal attacks, not even Ursus Army patrols. Just the hum of the engine and the muses on the airwaves.

Six initially considered venturing off into the desert to scrounge for resources while Lyudmila rested her eyes at one point, but he shot that idea down. He had no intel on the environment of the Ursus wastes and her driving off without him was the last thing he wanted. On the bright side, she did tutor him in the art of driving. She just had to get over all of the heart attacks his recklessness gave her.

Since the other night, he'd stand guard while Lyudmila enjoyed some sleep. Six listened to the holotape again, translating the Yanese dialect once more. Occasionally he took a break to provide maintenance for his gear. He also wanted to try his hand at celestial navigation, but then he remembered that this wasn't Earth's sky. He made a mental note to look for books on the planet's constellations and a sextant when he reached civilization.

As soon as the sun rose, the trio was back on the road. Once again Six slept through the road trip while Lyudmila drove. She glanced back at the Courier on occasion. He slept rather soundly, all things considered. Sure he twitched and twisted his head every now and then, but it wasn't like he was having seizures or anything. Occasionally he'd mumble something under his breath, but the helmet muffled anything he said. She couldn't help but wonder what wastelanders dreamed of. Probably something perverted.

Her eyes caught something in the distance. Something green. To her surprise, it was a forest. A collection of willows, viburnum, alders, birches, oaks, and aspens. In a sea of reds, oranges, and yellows. It had been a long time since she had that many trees.

She parked the Boar at the edge of the forest. She put all her focus into her ears as the machine powered down. All four of them could hear birds chirping, branches creaking, leaves rustling, the wind's whispers. She could feel the wind gently brush against her face, smell the oaks and damp soil.

She took a peek inside the trunk. There were plenty of rations in her bag, at least for the next couple of days. Maybe some room for more local produce. She wasn't too concerned about that. What did was how little tinder there was for bonfires.

A glint in the back caught her attention. She shined a flashlight to see a number of tools tucked away. Tools for cutting wood and extracting the sap in trees. She hadn't seen anything like those in years. She looked back at the forest while the gears in her head turned.

She contemplated waking her partner, but she shot that idea down. For one, he and his robot might get the wrong idea and open fire on her. For another, she still didn't fully trust him. He might try to shank her in the woods… or worse.

She shook those thoughts out of her head. She can handle herself. Hell, she had the upper hand when they first met. But he might wake up and decide to drive off with her only ride. She looked at the robot.

"Mind waking your master up for me?" she asked. "I'd rather not get a bullet lodged into my skull."

The robot gave off some positive chirps. It floated over beside the Courier and started blasting out some country music into his earpiece. That jolted him awake.

"Whatshappening!?" He sputtered at rapid speed. "Areweunderattack? Oh. It's just another forest."

"Another? You've been to one before?"

"Yeah, saw my first forest a few days ago. Was impressed until a Yao guai tried to maul me."

"'Yao guai'?"

"What my people call a mutated bear back home. Was surprised to find one without tumors, let alone with fur."

"Infected bears… accidenti! And I thought Manglers were ugly."

"Manglers?"

"Warbeasts raised by the Ursus Armies to serve as their hellhounds. They can rip through armor like Lateran chess."

"So can I. Was there a particular reason you woke me up?" Six asked. "Or were you just feeling mischievous today?"

"We're running low on kindling," Lyudmila revealed. "You wouldn't happen to have a wood ax, would you?"

"I might have something better than that, but it's probably too heavy for you."

"Try me."

Six smirked under his helmet. "ED-E, Knock-Knock and my GRA Chainsaw."

At his command, the eyebot ejected two melee weapons from its subspace storage compartments. One of them was a massive chainsaw, covered in yellow paint and lined with massive teeth. The other was a silver fire ax. To his surprise, she had no issue picking it up. If anything, she seemed to be handling it better than he ever did. Her eyes were saying "I told you so" as Six reclaimed Knock-Knock.

"So how much lumber are we hacking up?" Six asked. "Just a few days' worth?"

"Pretty much. We might be able to sell some of it off if we happen across a village."

"What about herbs and game? Even if we don't need the extra food, we can sell it to someone that does."

"Fine by me, so long as you don't go overboard. Our bags can only carry so much. But first, we need to trade numbers."

She took a small PDA out of her pocket. What was it that Hoover called them? Smartphones? Six fiddled around with his Pipboy until it brought up his contacts. April's name was the first to pop up. He made a mental note to delete it as he added Lyudmila to the list. Getting the device's frequency onto her phone was a bit more difficult, though. Apparently, smartphones didn't operate like handheld radios.

Once the technical issues were dealt with, the trio grabbed the tools from the back and entered the forest. It occurred to Six that the flora here differed from Siracusa's. While the Earth's ecosystems have drastically changed after the Great War, records of the Old World's biomes did survive the initial fallout.

Ancient science books would've referred to Siracusa's biome as 'temperate' with its modest climate. Ursus' countryside by comparison felt colder from where he was standing. He believed that the phrase for this type of ecosystem was 'boreal' or 'taiga'. Some of the trees resembled the ones surrounding Jacobstown, now that he thought about it. Same species, perhaps?

Part of him wondered how many of the Old World biomes remained today He heard tales of lush green wonderlands in the states of Massacuttes and West Virginia. Places that had an abundance of natural resources. Places that he so eagerly wanted to see one day. Perhaps he will once he establishes a stable government for New Vegas.

The group spent another half-hour searching for the perfect tree to cut down. Something chunky enough for firewood, but also thin enough to store in the trunk. Lyudmila had some experience in harvesting the local flora for food and medicine too. Something she picked up from her militia days, he wagered.

Eventually, they came across some healthy white birch trees, perched near a river. Lyudmila took out a drill and ripped through one of them. She quickly cut a plastic tube and inserted it into the fresh opening. Then she placed the other end of it into an empty soda bottle. Six had seen similar tricks used on certain cacti. All that was missing was a fire.

She moved on to another birch tree, drawing out a carving tool. She pointed at the ax strapped on his back and at a cluster of them. Six nodded and went to work on cutting them down while she carved the bark off of hers. They were rather thin, so it didn't take too long for him to rack up a sizable stack of lumber. It was… boring, to be honest.

Six got the itch to explore, to delve deeper into the forest. Part of him wanted to find some excuse- any excuse- to do some wandering. But Lyudmila might decide to drive off without him and ED-E. And even if she didn't, the environment was still alien to him.

He took out April's sketchbook and sat on the lumber. While some of the contents resembled the Mojave's wildlife, it said nothing about the Ursus countryside. The sound of a motor revving up startled him, causing him to jump off of his makeshift seat. It was just Lyudmila with his chainsaw. She had already skinned her trees and was cutting them down now.

He sighed as a hand drifted onto his forehead. An idea cropped up behind it. Maybe she had her world's equivalent to a Wasteland Survival Guide on hand. If not that, then at least some notes.

Six rose from his makeshift seat and walked over to his guide. She heard his approach and shut down the chainsaw as he got closer.

"What now?" she asked.

"You wouldn't happen to have books or notes on surviving out here, do you?"

The girl snorted. "Seriously? I thought you were a wastelander?"

Six cleared his throat and motioned all around him. She quickly realized her mistake. Grumbling, she reached into her backpack and handed a small booklet. It was worn out, but he could make out the title; 'Surviving in the Savage North'. Six gave her a small nod of thanks and went to work on reading it.

While the Courier had his nose in the pages, Lyudmila finished her fair share of lumber. She set out to scavenge the flora for food and other resources while her ally familiarized himself with the guide's contents. As expected, many of the flora and fauna described bore a striking resemblance to his world's own. Part of him entertained the idea of there being some previous contact between realities. An exchange in wildlife and culture, perhaps? Would explain the dialects of Terra.

He shook his head. There was no evidence of such exchanges beyond convenience and coincidence. And frankly, he didn't care about the constants right now. His biggest concerns were finding a way back home and preventing this world from going down in atomic flames like his. He whistled for Lyudmila's attention and returned the book to her. He tipped an imaginary hat at her as a sign of gratitude. She returned the gesture by handing him back his Chainsaw.

Six glanced down at his Pipboy's clock. 3:23 PM. He commanded ED-E to stuff some of the lumber into his quantum storage and watched the logs shrink out of existence. The Courier walked over to the maple bottle to see how the extraction was coming along. So far it was half-full. Lyudmila crotched beside him and inspected the bottle as well. She was lugging a couple of pouches of herbs and berries.

Six handed his lumbering tools back to ED-E, trading them for one of the crossbows he salvaged back in Chernobog. He gave it a brief examination. It somewhat resembled the automatic variants he saw in Da Vinci and Kazdel, but it didn't appear to be compatible with any barrel-mods. There were also fewer mechanical components than the previous models he wielded.

[Strength 8] He tried to load a bolt onto it, but the draw strength was greater than he anticipated. It took considerably more effort, but he managed to pull the string back. Lyudmila watched on with a small 'hmm'.

"What?" Six asked.

"You honestly had trouble pulling that sting back?" she said.

"Yeah?" Six said. "So what?"

"Just that most snipers I know had no issue with drawing the string."

"Maybe it's because those fellows are from races with higher levels of Strength."

"Or maybe it's because you're messing with a recurve crossbow?"

"A what?"

"You know, a simple crossbow. No cams to assist with adjusting the string like a compound bow. You never used a bow and arrow before?"

Six shook his head. "You?"

"On a few occasions. Ranged combat isn't my cup of tea, though. Going back on your comment about strength, how the hell did you lug that minigun around?"

Six shrugged. "[Strong Back] I'm used to hauling stuff across the wastes. Guess I got more calcium in my back than my arms."

"And where did you find that thing, huh?"

"Same as the others; some derelict facility."

"Right, right… and your robot?"

"My old workplace. A co-worker apperently found him all banged up and brought him to our shop. I patched him up and he's been with me since then."

"Old workplace?"

"Yeah. I was a courier before I got a couple of bullets lodged into my skull."

"Wait, bullets? You got shot with two bullets in the head?"

"Yep. Someone wanted a certain package I was carrying and was willing to kill me for it. A local saw what happened and dug me out of my early grave. Brought me to their doctor and I was nursed back to full health. When I got out of bed, I went to work on tracking down my package and the assailant. It was… one hell of an adventure to say the least."

Lyudmila looked at him with furrowed brows. "You're lying," she said. "I've seen plenty of people die from headshots during my militia days. For someone to shrug off two of them is fignya. How the fuck could you of all people survive that?"

Six shrugged again. "[Endurance 9] I'm just too stubborn to die, I guess. But I certainly didn't get out of there unscathed. I lost my memories, my face, and my identity in that ambush. I tried digging around for answers, but apparently, I was a secretive and paranoid type. Hell, my employer even kept a list of all the aliases I used for my deliveries. For all I know, I never had a 'real' name. The only reason he recognized me was apparently because of my eyes."

Lyudmila's expression hadn't changed. "Prove it," she said.

"Excuse me?"

"You have the scars from your near-death experience, yes? Why not show them?'

Six just stared at her. Take off his helmet? Was she asking him to get shot in the head again?

Your HUD hasn't picked up additional IFF markers. Part of him reminded himself. It's perfectly safe right now.

What if she tries to stab me in the eye? A more cynical side retorted.

She doesn't have a reason to. He reminded himself.

You act as if someone needs one. Just look at the Raider gangs back home.

But she isn't one, is she? And ED-E will zap her if she gets any funny ideas.

Oh yes. The same robot that got sent flying through a window a few days ago. You can always count on a metallic volleyball to watch your back. Have you forgotten how she can phase through solid matter? How she's quicker than both of you combined?

If she absolutely wanted to, she would've done so long ago.

…fair point.

Six took a deep breath. He grasped his helmet by the sides and slowly removed it. Lyudmila blinked, mouth dropping behind her face mask. She took a step back as Six brushed away his hair and showed off his scars.

"There," he said in an irritated tone. "Happy now?"

It took her a moment to muster up the courage to respond. She walked up to him and stood on her tiptoes, tracing her hand across his scars. She could feel the subtle dents in his skullcap. Six seemed to lock up as she did this, holding his breath. A minute passed before he shook it off and grabbed her wrist. He gently removed her hand from his forehead, prompting her to give him some breathing space.

"So…" she said. "You really were…"

"Shot in the head? Yes."

Six swiftly placed his helmet back on. "And I'd rather not go through it ever again," he snarled.

Lyudmila shook her head and furrowed her brows, "So how come you're not Infected then?" she noted.

"If I am, it's probably on an internal level," Six lied. "It's a miracle that I even survived both shots."

Lyudmila didn't seem to buy it. Before she could interrogate him any further, ED-E interrupted their conversation with an alarming beep.

"What's wrong, buddy?" Six asked.

The eyebot sped off. Six cursed under his breath and chased after the little robot. The fleshlings chased the metal eyeball to a fresh pile of lumber up north. The robot chirped at them as it pointed its laser cannon at a fresh set of footprints on the ground. Human footprints.

Instinctively both meat bags drew their weapons. The trio followed the trail to a clearing in the forest. There, at the heart of the glade, was a lone figure. He was wearing a lightweight chest plate over his camouflage jumpsuit, with a gasmask dangling on his neck. He was sitting before a bonfire, munching down on a granola bar. There was an old-looking motorcycle behind him. What did those pre-war ads call them? 'Dirt bikes'?

Six's motion tracker had the stranger marked as an orange rectangle. He didn't strike Six as a bandit, to be honest. Last he checked, they usually traveled in groups. The man looked up from the flames and noticed the three strangers approaching them. He stuffed his face with the remaining bar and rose onto his feet.

The man swallowed hard as he held his hands up. He said something in Ursine, but the Courier didn't understand a damn word.

"Do you speak Victorian?" Six asked.

The man titled his head, speaking in more of that dialect.

Lyudmila placed a hand on the Courier's shoulder. "Allow me," she said.

She walked over to the stranger and began conversing with him in their native tongue. It didn't take long for them to become acquainted if his grin was any indication. After some more banter, Lyudmila sat her backpack down and procured a map. There were several locations marked on it, but it was all in the Ursus language. Six really wished he could read their dialect right about now.

The two talked with each other some more before he knelt down before the bonfire. Six tensed up, readying himself for a potential sneak attack. Instead, the man merely smothered the flames with a few scoops of dirt, extinguishing them. Lyudmila turned to the Courier as the stranger got onto his bike and drove off.

"He's a prospector from a village I visited a few years ago," she explained. "Apparently it's still around."

"Still around? As in 'not buried under magic ore'?"

"Originium," she corrected him.

"Whatever. I didn't see you mark anything on your map. I assume that you already know the way there?"

"Yep. Let's grab our produce and head back to the car. I wanna get to the place before sundown."

Lyudmila grabbed her syrup and placed a cap on the bottle as they walked back to the Boar. After loading the trunk with their spoils, they rode off down the road. Six kept an eye out for anything signifying civilization. Another road, a clearing in the woods, windmills, radio towers, anything man-made. Just as the sun began to dip out of existence, they picked up a signal.

Six's Pipboy and the Boar's internal compass pinpointed the station's origin. The trio followed it to a settlement just outside of Ursus's border. It was ancient, rundown, and covered in vines, rust, and rotting wood. The buildings themselves were either tents, log cabins, mud houses, or cobbled together from scrap metal. Overall, not all that different from the Wastes of his world.

Lyudmila circled around and pulled up into an underground garage. Six raised an eyebrow as he surveyed the area. If he didn't know better, it resembled a bunker.

Lyudmila seemed to sense what was going on inside his head. "Before you ask; yes, this is a bunker," she revealed.

"Ursus was at war?" Six asked.

"When isn't it?" Lyudmila retorted. "Think this used to belong to some ancient kingdom centuries back. Nobody really remembers the name of it, though."

Six wasn't all that surprised. They were at the doorsteps of this world's equivalent of the Soviet Union after all. Lyudmila hopped out of her seat and grabbed a bag of Metal Crab meat from the trunk. The trio then walked back to the surface and towards the heart of town.

The first thing that caught his eye was the bonfire at the center. Well, if you can call the bottom half of a burn barrel stuffed with firewood one that is. There were several figures in camo jumpsuits, just like the stranger. Some of them had plating crafted from scrap metal, others pieces resembling combat armor from his homeworld. Some just had pieces of leather strapped over their suits. They all screamed 'scavenger' to the Courier.

He also couldn't help but notice their racial traits. Many of them had antlers, Yao Guai ears, and Bighorner horns. But what surprised him were the ones with reptilian tails. Actually, scratch that, they resembled fish tails. The horns also didn't resemble those of their fellow scavs. And their language… Was that Chinese?

And there were a couple with strange ears and tails. The latter brought a certain hairstyle to mind in his head. 'Ponytail', was it? It wasn't very popular back in the Wasteland. So were they part horse or something?

One of the Bighorner "prospectors" noticed Six and froze up. His comrades turned to face him and expressed similar reactions. A stagman was about to reach for something when his eyes fell upon Lyudmila. Six noticed a flash of recognition in his eyes.

"Lyudmila?" he said."Eto ty?"

The girl nodded. Some of the scavs raised their arms and cheered at this revelation. There was a fair bit of banter bouncing between both parties. A mutant pointed at the Courier now and seemed to be asking her something. She replied with the silhouette of a smirk behind her mask.

Then she brought up a word he understood; Lungemn. One of the pony-scavs spat out some tea and babbled out something at a rapid-fire pace. That reaction perked Six's intrigue. That same prospector got up and whispered something into Lyudmila's ear, glancing at him. She shoved him off and said something in a dismissive manner. Another scav walked over to Six.

"You speak Victorian, da?" he asked.

"I might," Six replied.

"Did you really meet her in Chernobog?"

Six shrugged. "Was out scavenging when we met. Killed some graverobbers too."

The man laughed. "Then you know how wild she can be."

One of the stagfolk whispered something to a pony-mutant, pointing at the meatbags in a suggestive tone. Lyudmila must've overhead them because she snapped at them in Ursus. The rad-stag held their hands up defensively and gave her a cheeky smile as he (presumably) apologized. She rolled her eyes and motioned for Six and ED-E to follow.

ED-E briefly stopped beside one of the prospectors and emitted some beeps at them. The only reaction it got from them was tilting their head in confusion. The robot sped back to its master as the humans entered a two-storied brick building. There were a number of signs outside, including in English. That one, in particular, read 'The Black Death'.

The place was just a run-down tavern. There were old posters hanging on the walls, showing men in fur coats and ushanka. Scattered around was the same bird-shaped emblem as he saw in Chernobog. He couldn't help but notice the disdain in the girl's eyes as they fell upon one of them. Hopefully, she can keep her blade sheathed while they were so close to the Empire.

She sat the bag of salted meat on the counter and called over the bartender. They bantered for a moment before the owner handed it to one of their workers. He happily paid the heroes for the fresh meat while his employee put it in cold storage. Lyudmila counted the money and (presumably) thanked him. There was another exchange between the two, but for some reason, he shook his head. Twice. Lyudmila sighed as he tossed a key to her.

"All of the single-guest rooms are taken," she said. "We're stuck with one of the larger rooms."

Six let out a disappointed grunt as he and ED-E followed her up some steps. The room they were taking was #5. Opening it revealed a rather spacious bedroom. A window was at the end of the room, with a bed and nightstand flanking each of its sides. A shelf hung above each cot, holding some reading material for the weary traveler. Against one wall was a table and a couple of chairs. The other one had a wardrobe and a screen for changing clothes.

And tucked away in one corner was a small tub with its own screen. Actually, scratch that, the 'tub' was just a metal barrel with some type of heater placed underneath. He'd seen similar makeshift tubs back in the Mojave Wasteland, but those were usually outside. Considering the environment, though, he shouldn't be surprised to see one indoors.

The humans chose their beds and took a seat, setting their backpacks on the floor. Mila yawned as she stretched her arms out. Six meanwhile was examining each of the books that sat above his bed. To his disappointment, most of it was in Ursus. And the only thing that was in English was what appeared to be a kid's nursery rhyme.

"You got anything in Victorian on your bookshelf?" Six asked.

Lyudmila gave the shelf a quick glance before throwing a book into his gasmask. The woman smirked as the mysterious stranger removed it from his faceplate, grumbling. The cover said 'maintaining your bows'. This would definitely be worth a read.

Lyudmila grabbed her pajamas from her backpack and went behind a screen.

"No peeking, Izvrashchenets," she ordered.

Six made a short 'tsk'. "Already got a good look at you," he mumbled under his breath.

The girl stepped out of cover as soon as those words tumbled out of his lips. Her attire wasn't all that special in the grand scheme of things. Just a white tank top with gray shorts. But it did expose her Oripathic growths, though. Well, maybe 'growths' was not the right word to describe crystalline shards materializing over her skin.

Lyudmila cast a glare at the Courier. "What?" Six asked.

"Aren't you going to change?" she asked.

"Nope," Six asked. "Don't have any pajamas."

"You mean to tell me that that armor is the only attire you've got?" she asked.

"Technically no, but I'm used to sleeping in it."

"How?"

"Experience and usage," Six replied with a shrug.

"What about bathing?"

"Had a shower just before I sprung out of Siracusa. Also helps that the gas mask filters out odors."

"But you've probably built up sweat and grime underneath."

"I could say the same about you. And I don't see a source of clean water nearby either."

"Some inns have Casters that can draw upon sources for us and deposit water into tubs. Hell, some even have spa rooms in these parts. Or there might be a body of water nearby. Most towns try to build themselves near those."

"If you're suggesting that I go skinny dipping into a river while we're in a village full of potential hostiles, then the answer is no."

"I thought you said that you liked roughing it."

"I usually make sure that no enemies are within the vicinity."

"Isn't your robot alone enough security?"

ED-E emitted some confident beeps. Six sighed.

"Is this going somewhere?" he asked in an irritated tone. "Or are you just eager to see my spear?"

Lyudmila snorted. "As if I want to bed with a hooligan like you," she replied. "No, I just want you to be presentable to a potential benefactor."

"Benefactor?"

"Da. This man helped me slip into Lungmen once. I'm willing to bet he can help you too."

"With what?"

"Scoping out security for one thing. What, you think the chief executive is gonna welcome every stowaway with open arms?"

Six resisted the urge to facepalm. That was the first step of any heist and he had forgotten it.

In our defense, we were too busy juggling politics and monitoring mad science. Justified a certain organ. It's only natural that we've gotten rusty with the art of stealth.

No shit pinkie. Six mentally retorted. "And just what kind of security can I expect? Robots, turrets?"

Lyudmila shifted slightly. "A… more human touch," she said. "Though I'd hesitate to call them human."

She stretched her arms out and rolled up under her blanket. "The old man's usually an early fowlbeast," she explained. "So the best time to see him would be before noon. Sleep, stay up, bathe, don't bathe. Do whatever you want. But if you want to get into the city, you need to be up around sunrise. Got it?"

Six nodded. Lyudmila rolled over and drifted off into sleep. Six on the other hand wasn't in the mood and stayed up for a little while longer. After waiting and confirming that his partner was indeed counting sheep, he took out the Holotape and notepad, inserting the former back into his Pipboy. After confirming that a link had been established between it and his helmet, he went to work.

After a couple of hours of comparing notes, he finally got a rough translation of the dialogue between the satellite's thieves.

~"Who the hell are these metal men?" shouted a foreign voice." Are they from Columbia!?"~

~"No. Just a group of hoarders in Power Armor," retorted a raider (if the American accent were any indication). "Let's cook them!"~

~The sounds that came through were the same as before. Hell hounds snapping their jaws, chimes whistling as someone chanted under their breath. Tamed lightning crackled through the air as streams of fire roared. After fighting his way through this world, he could easily pick up the sounds of Arts as they were cast.~

So some Casters have already made their way to Earth. Six realized. Things just keep getting better and better.

He fast-forwarded to the end of the battle.

~There was some laughter and rejoicing. "Thank goodness you are here!" said the same raider. "If you don't come, we're screwed!"~

~"You're welcome. How are things with Jigsaw?"~

~"Not good. His ore disease is consuming his body day by day. I thought those medicines you brought should help him."~

~"They are. But they could only numb his pain, not cure it. Also, your land lacks the elements needed to produce his medicine anyway. We have to teleport over to give it to him! You should thank our mutual benefactor who still finds him useful."~

~"Hmpt. Yeah, 'useful'. So what about the white coats from the East?"~

~"Very good. Between their thirst for knowledge and their despair, our alliance with them is going well. But the Ebony Demons still have some reservations about them and their synthetics. They believe more in cold steel than flesh."~

~"So do we. So how's business in the Frozen North?~"

~"Ursus? Quite well. Our "recruiters'' have wormed their way into the indentured servants market and made good profit. It's also the best place to find labor for our projects. But we hit a snag."~

~"Stumbling block?"~

~"Yes. Our Great Lungmen cell has recently fallen behind on its import quotas. We think the Rat King is attacking them. We may need to speed up our grand opening in Lungmen Underworld."~

~"Friends?" a third voice chimed in. " We have a tight schedule, remember? Let's get this junk out of here before its owner arrives."~

~"Agreed."~

~Then the teleport sounded off again. And that's where the recording ended.~

Six's free-hand balled up. Slavers. If there's one thing he absolutely despised, it's slavers. Bad enough that the Wasteland had groups of those, but to learn that they plague this world too… His blood boiled. He had already worn a Slave Collar at least once in his life.

Never again.

The information he dug up was intriguing, to say the least. The tape mentioned someone by the name of 'the Rat King.' A local in the city perhaps? They certainly sounded like an enemy of this little cabal. But that doesn't necessarily make him an ally either. For all he knew, he could be a rival of theirs. Still, he seemed to be the only lead on those thieves.

But what did he mean by 'synthetics'? Clones, or perhaps Super Mutants? Either scenario didn't bode well for Terra.

A yawn escaped from Six's lips. He softly cursed under his breath as he stretched his limbs and lay down. He'll ponder over the implications after the meeting.

"ED-E, guard mode."

The robot chirped in acknowledgment as the Courier set an alarm on his Pipboy. Six rolled over onto his side and allowed his fleshy curtains to close themselves. Today's act was over. Tomorrow, they will rise to set the stage for another one.

---

Date: October 2nd, 1099

Location: Ascheufer

Time: 11:00 AM

Memory. What exactly defines memory? At its basic level, it's just data stored inside fleshy processors. Images, knowledge, history. Some would also say instinct and personality also count as memory. What happens when it begins to degrade, though? What happens when you have nothing but instinct? What exactly are you then? An animal? No, even animals process more than instinct.

And sadly Feral Ghouls don't know the answer either. Many of the sane ones often worry about losing their minds, devolving into raving beasts. But Ferals aren't mindless beasts. Some of them still possess the cunning to conduct ambushes, and Glowing ones retain enough brainpower to channel the Rads inside of them when the situation calls for it. Beyond those shreds of intelligence, though, all they know is aggression. Violence. No rhyme or reason behind any of their actions.

A pack of them had been wandering this set of ruins for the past few days. Their memory was all shot as hell, but they still hold some semblance of awareness of their surroundings. One minute they were walking across a prairie, the next they fell into some underground reservoir or lake. They faintly recall a battle with smoothskins, bullets and red lights flying at them. And now they're in some urban ruins. Well, maybe 'urban' wasn't the best way to describe the ruins. There was civilization, but nothing as grand as old America. Not that they'd notice of course.

The thing they did notice was the sound of something popping like a fleshy balloon. They all turned to see the head of one Feral burst into bone and gore. The rest of its kin howled and hissed. They knew this phenomenon too well. Someone had just opened fire on them.

They scattered, seeking out whoever was shooting at them. No point in taking cover if you don't even know where the enemy is firing from. A bullet tore off the arm of another Ghoul, but it was able to trace the trajectory to its source. There, poking out of some rubble, was the barrel of a rifle. The Ghoul looked in the sniper's direction and howled before its head was blown to pieces.

The remaining Ferals closed in the screecher's position, hellbent on swarming their assailant. The sniper blasted off the legs of some Ghouls at the frontline, creating a road hazard for the rest of the pack. Many of them tripped and stumbled over their comrades, forcing others to split off and circle around them. A grenade landed at the severed feet of the blockade, sending many of the withered husks to Kingdom Come.

Those with an iota of self-preservation scrambled to cover. They were in for a couple of surprises when they entered some neighboring ruins. One of them was a redhead wielding a thermite blade. The other was a hulking white giant with a sledgehammer.

The Operators sprung their trap. Franka hacked and slashed at the monsters while Mudrock pulverized them. A Glowing One fell back some distance, preparing a blast of radiation when someone tackled it to the ground. It was their sniper, a Feline in a heavily armored hazmat suit. And she had her pistol in its mouth. Just a couple pulls of the trigger and it ate some lead.

Unfortunately, it managed to release the rads before it kicked the bucket. Some of the ghouls were stitched back together by the gamma eaves, some even resurrected. Their second wind was thankfully rather brief. A Reaver was hiding among the rubble, watching as the Operators cut down its kin yet again. It tore off a lump of its rotten flesh and tossed it at the enemy. It exploded into boney shrapnel and radioactive blood, forcing the Operators into cover.

The monster charged at the redhead, expecting her to go down in one swing. Instead, she actually caught its claw and twisted the creature around. With a heave, she ripped it right off of the shoulder. The beast stumbled around as its essence leaked out of the fresh wound. The titan jumped into the fray, breaking its legs with its hammer. Its skull went flying off on the next strike.

Only one Feral Ghoul remained, and it was just as bloodthirsty as its fallen kin. But the Operators weren't going to grant it the cold embrace of death. At least not yet. The bleach-white titan grabbed the monster by the neck and dragged it outside. Despite its efforts, it couldn't claw through the entity's suit. And what happened next it couldn't comprehend.

The earth seemingly came to life and wrapped itself around the Ghoul. Its body was cocooned in soil and sediment, which quickly hardened into solid stone. The only thing it hadn't covered was its deformed face. Its captor threw it and its prison over their shoulder, carrying them to a pickup truck.

And sitting inside the bed was a stretcher. Its captor dispelled the earthly restraints and strapped it to the stretcher. It howled and hissed as it struggled to break free, but the entity with a gasmask muzzled it.

Jessica took the wheel while Franka and Mudrock sat their posteriors on the passenger seats. A turn of the key sealed the creature's fate as the truck sped off toward Müllstad. Franka held up a hand, hovering it next to Jessica.

"High five!"

Jessica cast a brief glance back at her superior.

"..uh, that's an order?" Franka said with a sheepish grin.

Jessica compiled that time, albeit with her eyes still glued to the road. Franka turned to share another high-five with Mudrock. The Sarkaz, however, had her gaze on their latest catch. Without the helmet obscuring her face, it was easy to see the somber look on it.

"Those creatures…" she said. "Is it true that they were all human once?"

Franka shrugged. "That's what Maggy and Short-Circuit said,'' she replied. "Won't know for certain until Kal'tsit runs some tests."

Mudrock's fingers twitched slightly at the mention of the bandit. She turned to Franka with a scowl on her face.

"And you believe him?" she asked.

"I believe Maggy. She said she talked with a Ghoul that still retained his marbles."

"And yet he threw in his lot with marauders?" Mudrock hissed.

"If you ask me, that validates Maggy's claims. Being chased outta town, becoming sterile. All the while worrying about losing your humanity. Sounds like they have something in common with us Infected. Honestly, I kinda pity the poor wrinkles."

Mudrock wanted to argue with the Vulpo, but she bit her tongue. As much as she hated to say it, she was right. Many Infected- including herself- found themselves in Reunion after society threw them to the wolves. She frowned. The 'Ghoul' she could probably pity, but the rest of his crew…

What could drive them to do something like this? Why raid a village struggling to make ends meet in the wastes? Hell, why not form an alliance with them instead? They'd get food and shelter in exchange for protection. A pragmatic solution. But instead, they decided to slaughter as many people as they could. What kind of monster would do that?

Her fists balled up. She lost most of her brothers-in-arms at Wolumonde and on the journey to Kazdel's borders. And now she's lost even more of them. It made her furious. At the killers, at whatever gods allowed said atrocities to transpire. At herself for not being strong enough to protect them all.

Something fell onto her shoulder, drawing her back to reality. It was Franka's hand.

"You okay?" she asked.

Mudrock shook her head. "No, I am not," she confessed. "I just lost several of my friends. Friends that I fought and bled alongside. Friends that have kin back on the Ark. What am I supposed to tell them when we return to base?"

"The truth," Franka replied. "That they fought to protect everyone. That you and the survivors wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for them."

Mudrock crossed her arms. "And that's supposed to make us feel better?" She asked.

"It all depends on how you want to remember them."

Mudrock paused. She turned her gaze to the window beside her, ignoring the gagged ghoul thrashing in its restraints. She kept staring at the wastelands of Kazdel until they returned to the village. To everyone's surprise, there were some new arrivals.

There were three young men roaming Müllstad. One of them was a towering Feline with jet-black hair. Another was a Lupo with silver hair. The last was a Vulpo with orange-red hair. The first two were helping with the reconstruction efforts while the latter was repairing the dropship. Franka recognized those three.

Jessica was the first one out, pulling the Ghoul's stretcher from the trunk bed. Franka and Mudrock hopped out next, the former walking over to her fellow Vulpo. He was chatting away with Castle-3 when he heard her approach. The young man grinned at the sight of the ladies and waved at them.

"Yo Franka!" he shouted. "You called for a handyman?"

"Rangers did," Franka said. "He's busy catching some Z's right now. How'd you get here so quickly, though?"

"By car, duh!" Chiave replied, pointing at a jeep parked on the outskirts.

Franka tilted her head and placed her hands on her hips. "Seriously?" she said in a slightly teasing tone. "That old hunk of junk got you from angel country to Kazdel?"

"Well, the Ark did close some distance before we took off."

"Close distance? Amiya's got the base moving?"

"Yeah. She set a course for Lungmen after your team left. Something about attending a meeting with a couple of important folks. It was at full tilt when we drove outta the hanger."

"Did she say why?"

Chiave shrugged. "Something about catching a Messenger, I think. Liskarm said y'all were digging around for clues too. Even showed me this sketch of the guy."

He cracked his knuckles together. "Can't wait to duke it out with him when we catch up."

"Did Lisky also warn you about his gun collection?" Franka cautioned. "Or that he might have a twitchy trigger finger? Amiya would rather try to reason with him than trade blows."

Chiave frowned in disappointment, grumbling under his breath. He looked like he was about to say something when he spun around. He did a double-take and stumbled back when he saw Jessica carting a certain creature into the dropship.

"Che cazzo è quella cosa!?" he swore.

Franka rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. "Some critter we caught prowling about in some ruins," she tried to handwave. "Kal'tsit wants to run some tests on it."

Chiave shuddered at the mention of the doctor. "Sheesh! I heard that this place had a monster problem, but the walking dead…?"

"I'd hesitate to call it undead," Mudrock said. "And frankly those poor souls weren't the worst thing to pop up."

"Worse? What can be worse than-" Chiave stopped himself. "Oh," he realized, his shoulders slumping slightly.

"You know?"

"Only seen its skull and a claw."

Mudrock didn't respond. Instead, she just closed her eyes and balled up a fist. That made Chaive a bit concerned.

"Why don't you go see Broca or Aosta?" Franka suggested. "They probably could use a hand or two."

Mudrock nodded. "I think I will," she said.

The Sarkaz walked towards the center of the village. Franka turned her attention to Castle-3.

"How long before we can take off?" she asked the robot.

"By my calculations, at least two more hours," Castle-3 reported.

Franka looked back at Chiave. "Who else is here besides your crew?" she asked.

"Myrrh and Saria came here with us," Chiave revealed.

Franka blinked. "Saria?" she said. "What's she of all people doing out here?"

"Checking up on Maggy," Chiave shrugs. "You know how she is with her crew. She asked me to send you her way when you got back. They're both at that farmhouse patching up the locals."

Franka bit her lip. That can't be the only reason she's here.

"In that case, I'll pay our good doctors a visit. You do you."

Chiave gave her a playful salute as she walked up to the farm. The apothecary tended to Sesa while the researcher worked on Magallan. Both of them had their legs in casts.

"It's just a black eye," the Liberi assured her Vouivre friend. "No real damage to my depth perception."

"But what about your skull? Or your brain for that matter!" Saria chided as she handed the Liberi an ice bag. "You took a direct hit from that suit's servos. And there's also the possibility of lead poisoning in your leg. When you get back to base, you're getting an X-Ray and lead testing. Understand?"

Maggy just smiled as she held the bag against her face. "Whatever you say, ma'am," she said.

Saria sighed and turned to face another patient when she heard someone clear their throat. She looked to see Franka.

"Ms. Franka," Saria greeted.

Franka curtsied. "Ms. Saria," she said. "I hear you've been looking for me. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I think you know," Saria replied in a terse tone. "I've read the report."

Franka sighed. "How much did it say?" she asked.

"Enough to concern the science teams. Especially those closest to Team Rainbow."

Franka rubbed the back of her head with a nervous giggle. "Guess there's no point in beating around the bush, huh?" she said. "Why don't we discuss this in private?"

Saria motioned Myrrh over. "Can you and Ceylon handle yourselves while I speak with Franka?" she asked them.

Myrrh nodded. With that question out of the way, she followed the Vulpo back to the church. Franka turned back to the researcher after she closed the doors.

"How much do you know about Rainbow?" she asked.

"Enough to keep them out of the spotlight," she said. "And I was part of the team that studied their weapons."

"Then you understand the gravity of this situation."

"From what Rangers' report says, it's worse than the Orignium Dust incident. So tell me; what makes this Courier so special? Why is it so urgent that we find them?"

Franka sighed as she plopped down on the edge of a worn-out pew. "As Lisa puts it, It's a complicated mess," she said. "Hell, he is a complicated mess from what I've been hearing."

---

Date: October 7th, 1099

Location: Village of Grinkhorn, just outside the southern Border of Ursus

Time: 6 AM

Six's eyes groggily fluttered open as his alarm went off. He rolled over to face ED-E as the eyebot greeted him in binary.

"Morning buddy," Six said. "Mata Hari awake yet?"

ED-E emitted some negative beeps. Six smiled under his helmet as took out his travel guide. After giving its Ursus section a quick read, he grabbed a cauldron near the barrel-tub and walked downstairs. He noticed other scavs doing the same thing, so he decided to follow them. Sure enough, there was a line in front of a water pump.

Some of the locals had been staring at him while he was waiting his turn. He ignored them. After filling up his kettle, he dashed back to his room and filled its drum up. Grabbing some soap and heating the barrel up, he threw his Elite Riot Gear onto his bed. He took in a deep breath as he slipped in.

It's been a while since he had a hot bath. Even longer in drums like these. Sure it was nowhere near as luxurious as the Lucky 38, but it felt familiar to him. It reminded him of the Wasteland. Of home. It was almost enough to make him forget about recent events.

Almost. He still needed to find a way home. He still needed to ensure Vegas' safety (and competence). He allowed his body to soak in the H2O for a few minutes before he started scrubbing. Three minutes later, he had already dried off and redressed himself. All he had to do was dump the water out.

He dragged the barrel across the floor and towards the window. He dumped the bath water out onto the ground below. Someone yelped as it came splashing down. Six peeped his head out and saw a scav directly below him. He was soaking wet and waving his fist around, shouting at the outsider. Six sheepishly rubbed the back of his head and issued an apology in English.

Six closed the window and cast a quick glance at Lyudmila. She was sound asleep. How she slept through the man screeching at the top of his lungs was beyond him. Maybe she was just worn out from the journey? He glanced down at his PIP-boy. It was quarter after six.

He plopped down onto his bed and gave his travel guide a good read. Trying to decode Chinese was one thing, but Slavic tongues were another beast entirely. After spending what felt like an eternity learning basic Ursus phrases, he grabbed his backpack. ED-E gave him an inquisitive beep.

"Just exploring the town for a bit," Six assured his friend. "Maybe some shopping on the side too. Lemme see your internal storage for a minute."

ED-E complied and opened up its quantum storage (an upgrade Six procured from Big MT). Six chose some melee weapons and bows, sheathing them onto his belt and back.

"Stay here while I'm gone, okay? Rather not draw any attention with your unique silhouette."

ED-E issued some negative-sounding tones.

"Hey, this isn't gonna be a repeat of Da Vinci. As long as we stay within range of each other's radios, we'll be fine. If anything happens, give me a boop, okay?"

ED-E gave an acknowledging beep as its master waved him goodbye. The Courier walked out of the inn and into the village. Yesterday's bonfire had been extinguished, but there were still some scavs sitting around it. Most of them were Ursus folk, with the occasional Liberi and Feline. Six recognized some of them from yesterday. A member of the birdfolk was playing the guitar when Six approached them.

"[Speech 50] Prostite, a gde univermag?" he asked in Ursus.

One of the scavs pointed at a concrete building with a large sign. One with a bunch of different languages on display. The English portion read "Kovalenko's Goods". Six nodded with a short 'Spasibo' and ventured off into the store. There was some fresh produce, some swords and bows on display, arrows and bolts in the back. There was even a bookshelf containing various literature.

The Perro merchant- Kovalenko, he presumed- flashed a smile at the Courier as he entered his shop. He issued a greeting in Ursus, but Six wasn't entirely confident in his Russian just yet.

"Do you speak Victorian?" Six asked.

The man had an intrigued glint in his eye. "Victorian?" he said. "Now that is language I haven't heard in a while. What brings you to these parts?"

"Just traveling with a friend. Could use some local knowledge, though."

"What kind?"

"Survival guides, mainly. And maybe a Victorian-to-Ursus dictionary as well. And some ammo for a weapon I just dug up."

Six placed Scout's Rifle onto the counter. The dog-eared man whistled at the sight.

"Vot eto da…" the older man muttered. "And this is indeed a rare sight. Where did you find this beauty?"

"In the ruins of Chernobog."

The man jumped, sputtering in disbelief. "Ch-chu-chah-chernobog!?" he said. "That place is cursed!"

"Cursed?"

Kovalenko stared at him in disbelief. "You don't know? Reunion infiltrated Chernobog and sabotaged its guidance systems. Drove it right through a Catastrophe! And before the ashes settled, their Sarkaz warlock unleashed his dark arts against the survivors. Now the city's haunted by spirits and the walking dead."

Six tilted his head. "Reunion?" He asked.

The merchant's eye twitched a bit. "You know, that radical group of Infected!"

Six shook his head. "I'm from out West," he explained. "I wouldn't know anything about some union."

Something about that name did ring a bell, though. Croissant might've mentioned it when they first met.

Kovalenko had this forlorn look on his face. "…I see. Suppose Westerners have other concerns these days. But why were you in that ghost town?"

"I was looking for shelter from a Catastrophe. The ruins were the closest place for me at the time, so I took a calculated risk," Six lied. "Ran into some trigger-happy mercs scavenging the place. Got that gun off of a sniper."

The man brought the rifle up to his face. "Airgun, huh?" he said. "Guess Arts is not your forte. And I assume 'Scout' is poor sod that attacked you."

Six shrugged. "Or the merc got the drop on them first. Never found a dog tag on the bastard."

Kovalenko removed the rifle's clip and dumped out its contents. "Bolts," he observed. "Pretty easy to forge at workbench. Lots of different insertion points for magazines too. Probably for darts and ball bearings. Hmm, 6x scope and sniper stock. Clearly not made with close encounters in mind."

The middle-aged dogman returned the rifle to him. "Rifles like those are highly customizable," he said. "I got all sorts of magazines and mods if you fancy yourself a tinkerer."

Six sat his goods on the table. "And I've got some wares that you might like," Six said.

The parties commenced their exchange. The Courier paid 200 LMD for several BB rounds and bundles of bolts. Kovalenko handed him 350 LMD for a blade, ax, and a couple of crossbows. He kept a spare bow for modification and handed it to the older man.

"Strength isn't my forte either," he confessed. "Could use some cams to compensate for my noodle arms. Maybe a magazine for rapid firing, too."

The man smiled. "I think I have better idea," he said.

The weaponsmith removed the strings and replaced them with a pneumatic system. A heavy stock was added to stabilize the weapon, while some simple reflex sights and a green laser were added for accuracy. The icing on the cake was the magazine, holding up to eight shots. The end result was this world's closest equivalent to a Tommygun. A jury-rigged, semi-automatic version of Wolf's Bane.

The modifications cost the Courier over 600 LMD, but it was worth it in his book. And speaking of books, he decided to purchase some on the side. Some texts on the Ursus territories, maintenance for bows. He also bought some extra filters for his gas mask. The offworlder tipped an imaginary hat at Kovalenko as he bid him farewell.

He passed by a blond-haired local on the way out. One of those mutants with the Equus tail and ears. She was dressed in a white long coat and had some armor-plating strapped onto her limbs. He didn't get a good look at her weapon, but it appeared to be some type of polearm.

She stuck out among the crowd, more so than him. She didn't strike him as a scavenger, not with how flashy her attire was. It all screamed 'regal' to him. Why would someone like her come to somewhere as rustic as this?

Six then noticed a large tent at a corner of the village. There was a strange symbol crudely painted by the entrance. The best way to describe it was as a six-pointed star inside of a rectangle. Curious, Six walked over and peeped inside.

This was a medical center. Beds hidden behind screens, doctors' bags lying around, cabinets standing behind a rickety old desk. Makeshift surgery trays and tables were all over the place. Hell, there were even body bags and a cart of severed limbs. It brought back memories of Forlorn Hope. Most of the souls under the tarp were either scavs or medics, but two women stood out among them.

The first was a statuesque woman in black-and-white robes. A tattered jet-black cloak covered her fair skin, hazel eyes gleaming underneath. She had bone-white horns protruding from her hood while platinum hair flowed down her shoulders. But what puzzled him was her sword. It appeared to be two-handed, yet she held it in its scabbard like a staff. She couldn't just strap the damn thing onto her back?

The other girl was dressed primarily in white and was lither. Not as well-endowed as her colleague, but she still carried a sense of grace. While her friend had jagged horns, hers were ebony and curled forward. The staff in her hands had a lantern dangling from its tip. One that housed a glowing crystal inside. It didn't look like Originium to the Courier.

Both of them had this atmosphere of mystery surrounding them. The one in black intrigued him the most. She might be a poker face, but he could sense experience behind her eyes. He also couldn't help but find her to be rather alluring. If circumstances were different, he'd consider asking her out.

The white one, on the other hand, was rather eerie. Little Miss Bo Peep was staring at him with a blank expression on her face. He could tell that her friend was putting effort into maintaining her stoic facade, but her… those icy blue orbs seemed rather dull, devoid of life. What the hell was she? An android?

One by one everyone still awake or conscious started to take notice of him. Some of the scavs were whispering amongst themselves, passing glances at the outsider. Six scowled as he mentally facepalmed. He should've gotten a disguise from Kovalenko when he had the chance. Ah well, he can do that later.

Six cleared his throat. "This the medical center?" Six asked.

A Feline in a bloodied t-shirt mustered up the courage to approach the Courier. "Da," he confirmed in English. "I take it you're new around here?"

"You could say that. Just trying to get a good layout of the place. Maybe do some odd jobs on the side."

The doctor was still apprehensive. "Well, dat's good to know. Keep your nose clean and you'll be fine."

Six gave the man a curt nod. "You have any medical supplies for sale?" he asked.

"Just these old medkits. And by 'medkits', I mean 'cases of morphine'."

"What about gauzes or stitches?"

"Running through them like toilet paper patching these debily up."

"Oi!" jeered a scav. "At least we're smart enough to come running here for treatment. Give us a little credit, mate."

The medic sighed as he clasped his gloved fingers against his temples. "Only other item we have in abundance is alcohol. Homebrewed."

"Tastes like crap, but where else can anyone get a cheap vodka?"

Some prospectors joined in the laughter.

"Well I guess some painkiller is better than nothing," Six said. "How much?"

"500 LMD."

"Oof, kinda steep."

"Regrettably. Empire's economy has seen better days."

Six forked over the money and was given a small orange box. Inside were a bunch of needles and a pamphlet. It was a dead ringer for the Soviet medkits of his world. The Courier gave the man a curt nod and pocketed the goods before he departed.

He cast a glance back at the horned duo. That blonde girl was still eyeballing him as he walked out.

Lyudmila was already up and dressed by the time he got back to their room. "Enjoyed your breakfast?" she asked.

Six was about to say something, but his stomach beat him to the punchline. Lyudmila snickered.

"Don't worry," she teased. "I bought a bottle of vodka while you were away. Wanna split?"

"Has it been opened yet?"

"What, afraid that I slipped something in it?"

"Yes," Six said in a deadpan tone.

She made a short 'tsk' sound and pointed at the table. Sure enough, there was a bottle of vodka sitting on it. Six gave the cap a quick tug. It hadn't been opened yet.

"Assuming that it stays like that by the time I get back, sure," he said.

Lyudmila crossed her arms. "Are you always this paranoid?" she asked.

"When you live in the wasteland for as long as I have, you learn to sleep with one eye open. ED-E, stay here."

Lyudmila rolled her eyes and grumbled under her breath as the Courier left the room. A minute passed and he returned with a plate and glass. The only food on the former was a couple of scrambled eggs. Six took out a bar blade from his pocket and popped the bottle cap off. He poured the liquor into their glasses before taking a seat. He gently removed his helmet and set it beside his plate. He gave his meal a quick scan with PIP-Boy before he dug in. Vodka wasn't that different from his world's, judging from the stats. No signs of poisoning either.

It didn't take long for him to gobble up his eggs and vodka. Part of him wanted to spit the liquor back out but he fought the urge. He had tasted far worse back home. After sipping the last drop of his drink he checked the time. 7:01 AM.

"Ready to see your fixer?" Six asked.

Lyudmila nodded and finished her beer, motioning for the dynamic duo to follow her. They walked back downstairs to the bar. The bartender greeted her in Ursine and the two conversed with each other for a bit. Then he pointed her towards the back of the establishment.

There was an Ursus bouncer standing beside a door, with a multilingual sign like the one outside. One of the lines read 'Manager's Office. They walked over to the man and Lyudmila cleared her throat.

"YA mogu vam pomoch'?" asked the brute in an annoyed tone.

"Mne nuzhno uvidet' malen'kuyu ptichku," she replied.

The man snorted. "A kakaya u ptichki lyubimaya pesnya, a?"

"Panikhida po Terra."

The man paused, then gave three knocks on the door. A metal bar slid open to reveal a pair of gray eyes.

"What is it, Morozov?" the stranger asked in an English accent. "Can't you see tha-"

He stopped in his tracks when he noticed Lyudmila.

"You?" he said in disbelief.

Lyudmila waved at the stranger sheepishly. "Hiya Chayka," she said.

"What do you want now?" the older man snarled. "I've already had my fill of revolutionaries in this life. And I'm not taking payments from any mo-"

He stopped mid-sentence when he noticed the Courier. "Who the hell is this?"

"Just an Ex-Courier," Six claimed.

"This one needs help getting into Lungmen," Lyudmila explained. "Preferably without drawing the attention of the Shadows."

Six tilted his head. Shadows? He thought to himself.

Chayka narrowed his eyes. "And why should I?" he asked. "You barely got out of there alive, if I recall correctly. You paid me to cover your trail and now you want to dig it back up? To lead the Shadows back to me? No thank you."

"We're only asking you to sniff around for a new entryway. We've already got the gear needed for the job."

"But not the training? And you still haven't told me the 'why' of it all yet."

"That's for him to tell us."

Six swallowed. He knew this was coming sooner or later. Hopefully this time he can come up with a better cover story.

"Well?" he asked in a chafe tone. "What's so damn important about this, huh?"

"Something was taken from me," Six said. "Something dangerous."

"How dangerous?"

Six walked right into the door and locked his eyes with the fixer's.

"[Barter 30] I'd rather not say out here," he whispered. "Not without risking a bounty on both of our heads. Why don't we discuss this someplace privately? Somewhere away from prying eyes. If you're as paranoid as I am, you can bring your buddy too."

Chayka paused for a moment before closing the shutter. The door opened to reveal a middle-aged Liberi. He was stout, balding, short, and rather crabby.

"Alright, I'll hear you out," he said. "But only because I'm bored to tears. Come on in. I just cooked some fowlbeast."

---

Date: October 2nd, 1099

Location: Rhodes Island

Time: 4:00 PM

The flight back to Rhodes Island had been rather uneventful. While it gave everyone onboard to rest and lick their wounds, it didn't really raise their spirits much. They were all still reeling from the clusterfuck in Kazdel.

Nian was vomiting into a barf bag while Maggy held an ice bag against their skulls. Projekt Red was complaining about headaches (no doubt a side effect of that Radaway stuff). Schwarz has been on edge since the Deathclaw incident, refusing to leave Ceylon's side. Sesa had his leg in a cast, grumbling under his breath while he played some games on his handheld console. And poor Mudrock was still mourning her fallen comrades.

Franka, Jessica, Myrrh, and the Chiave Gang stayed behind at Müllstad to help the locals rebuild. Franka wanted to see about getting an outpost set up near the Courier's LZ, but she couldn't leave the village just yet. Not until some proper security was set up around the zone. Liskarm volunteered to report back to Rhodes Island in her stead. In the meantime, she lent her knowledge of biohazards to the villagers. If anything radioactive reared its ugly head again, at least they'd be prepared for it.

Saria was sitting directly opposite Liskarm's seat, keeping an eye on Maggy and the feral Ghoul. It'd still make a fuss on occasion, but a glare from the Guardian always shushed it. Liskarm was a bit surprised by this, but not by much. If anyone could intimidate those monsters, it was Saria.

The ride back to base had been shorter than she anticipated. When the ship landed and she stepped out onto the hangar, she felt a current crashing into her body. She cast a side glance to see the land rolling by Rhodes Island. Chiave wasn't kidding when he said the base was at full tilt.

Rangers was handling the Ghoul's gurney while some Medics were getting Sesa and Magallan into wheelchairs. The Liberi protested of course, but Saria wasn't having it. Schwarz likewise was escorting Ceylon, despite her assurances. Red sped past everyone towards the nearest restroom, knocking over some Guards. Those fellows were here to cart away all of the evidence the away team dug up. Sesa rolled away with the alien weapons while Ceylon and Saria followed the body bags to the laboratories.

Gavial was pushing Nian towards the medical bay. "A little early for you, ain't it?" she remarked. "Or do you just miss us?"

"Zip it," Nian groaned.

Gavial snickered as she rolled away with the shard of divinity. Liskarm, meanwhile, made her way to the Doktah's office. There, sorting out papers on his desk, was the face of Rhodes Island. She smiled as the Vouivre entered.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Liskarm. How was your flight?"

"Uneventful," she said. "Though I suppose it was a much-needed reprieve. I have an audio tape regarding our interrogation with one of the Iron Devils."

"You mean the raiders?"

"Well, the last of them to be precise. He… expired from his injuries."

Amiya's brows furrowed. "Ms. Liskarm," she said attentively. "This is a delicate situation. There's no need to mince words. Please, explain."

Liskarm sighed. "Schwarz walked into the interrogation at some point and eavesdropped on us. She executed him just as we were finished."

"... I see. Did they say anything that might've provoked her?"

Liskarm crossed her arms. "She did mention hearing about the gang's usage of slave labor. She tried to justify her actions as avenging the fallen villagers on their loved ones' behalf, but I never bought it."

Amiya nodded in agreement. " She certainly has a punitive streak. I suppose that I shouldn't be surprised either, given her background. I assume that she's with Ms. Ceylon?"

Liskarm nodded back. "Have you heard from Team Rainbow yet?"

Amiya shook her head. "No. I was about to arrange a search party for them when you arrived. I know you're probably exhausted from recent events, but…"

Liskarm smiled. "Don't worry," she said. "I got some before we flew back. I'll be happy to retrieve them for you."

Amiya smiled back. "I'll leave the marshaling to you then. Be ready to mobilize in thirty minutes."

Liskarm nodded, then procured a file from her backpack. "Before I forget, here. This is a portrait of Courier Six. One of the locals at Müllstad drew this up for us during our investigation."

Amiya briefly inspected the drawing before setting it aside. "Thank you, Ms. Liskarm. And good luck to you."

"Likewise."

Liskarm briefly bowed her head before departing. As soon as the door was shut, Amiya pulled out a folder from a drawer. Inside were screenshots of security footage from Pete's subhouse. Penguin Logistics was able to salvage recordings in the aftermath of the mafia's assault. Each image was that of the Courier and his robot at some angle or another.

The one she was focusing on was taken just the day after he arrived onto Terra. He was walking down to the shower in a hooded bathrobe. That was the only recorded instance of him ever exposing his face, but the angle and resolution of the image smudged it somewhat. The drawing Liskarm handed her was the best visual representation of him they have.

She turned her attention to another picture on the disk. One in a small frame. It was a photo of her and the Doctor out in the savannahs of Rim Billiton. The Doktah doesn't remember that day of course, but she did. He taught her much during her stay on Rhodes Island. She owed so much to him.

And right now she needs him. Rhodes Island needs him. She placed the sketch in the folder and swapped it out with another one. This was a list of all operators available. She leaned towards the speakerphone and pressed a button. The person she was about to call was probably exhausted, but this was urgent.

"Mr. Rangers, please report to the Doctor's office. Repeat, Please report to the Doctor's office."

She fell back into her mentor's chair and took a deep breath. The butterflies in her stomach relaxed some, but they refused to settle down. Not until she knew for certain that the Doctor was safe.

---

Back in the future at Grinkhorn…

The team was sitting in Chayka's office, enjoying some fried fowlbeast. Well, the natives were at least. Six personally found it to be too greasy for his personal liking. The old Salisbury Steak dinners back home didn't have this much fat.

Six had played the Chinese- erm, Yanese- portion of the holotape for the locals. To say they were incredulous was putting it mildly. Already they were firing question after question at him. Some he was hesitant to answer, and some he just couldn't.

"Teleport? Your thieves are teleporting!?" Lyudmila asked.

"Certainly seems that way," Six replied.

"And you have a teleporter yourself?" Chayka asked.

"Found it in the ruins of a drive-in theater years ago. I had security set up, but they managed to trash it apparently. By the time I received an alarm and rushed over there, it was too late."

"And it was destroyed when you tried to retrieve it?"

"Yep. And I got flung all the way to Kazdel for my efforts."

"How many people knew about it?"

"Not many. And that's what worries me."

"But the device was destroyed, right? They can't transport themselves across the world."

"They probably had a chance to study it, though. They may have been looking to build their own teleporters. And if they've succeeded, well… we can kiss the very concept of security goodbye."

Lyudmila crossed her arms. "Why didn't you tell me about this?" she asked.

"You mean aside from the fact that we just met?" Six retorted. "Or that y'all are looking at me like I'm fucking crazy? Or how we're right next door to a couple of empires in a dick-measuring contest?"

Chayka had a contemplative look on his face as he made an audible 'hmm'.

"That tape mentioned a 'grand opening' in Great Lungmen. Any idea what it could mean?"

Six shrugged. "Sounded like they wanted to showcase something."

"Like what? I'm already having a hard time believing your whole 'teleporter' story. I doubt that your thieves would want to share such technology with others. But they did mention something about synthetics. What could they mean by that?"

"Artificial organs, maybe? Or perhaps augmentations."

"What? They're using slaves as guinea pigs for super-soldier experiments?"

Six's trigger finger twitched at the mention of the word 'slave'. Lyudmila and Chayka noticed this.

"Looks like you've got a bone to pick too," the man noted.

"You could say that," Six said.

"Then why not just get a passport and hire a private detective in the city? I can forge an ID for you."

"Two reasons. One; the authorities might try to confiscate my collection of weapons. I've survived out in the wasteland thanks to most of them. I'm not about to part ways with my guns anytime soon."

Or give the locals an opportunity to reverse-engineer them.

"And the other reason?"

"Because I doubt that they'll keep their hands to themselves. If they found out about the teleporter, they might try to build their own. Maybe even capture and interrogate me. They're still part of Yan, after all."

The man's eyes furrowed. "Alright, you've made some fair points," he conceded. "But I'm not just going to smuggle any stranger into the largest economic center on Terra. Even if half the stuff you say is true, I don't entirely trust you either. I made the mistake of helping gung-ho types in the past. Never again. You want my help, you'll have to earn it."

Six sighed. He should've known this was coming. "And do I do that?"

"Simple; Community service. I've got some bounties on the board outside. Headhunting, recon, resource collection, artifact retrieval. That sort of thing. When you have completed them, see Nadia at 'Cupid's Arrow'. It's the building with the neon pink sign. Can't miss it."

"And how much would I need to earn your trust?"

"Oh, let's say five. Maybe more depending on how you handle some missions. Our medics are also a little understaffed at the moment, so that's another avenue. Prove to me that you're at least competent, and maybe I can find someone that can clear a path for you. Deal?"

Six initially wanted to say 'no'. Time was of the essence after all. But then he remembered that this little conspiracy wasn't just isolated to Great Lungmen. Even if that particular cell escaped from his wrath, he can at least track the slavers up north. He almost grinned at the prospect of putting those fuckers to the sword.

He shook the Liberi's hand. "Deal," he said.

Notes:

I'm back…! *Coughcough* Sorry about the long wait. But I had some personal things going on. Dog's health deteriorated further after the last post. He… kicked the bucket not long ago. So I haven't exactly been in a good mood for a while. And even before that, I was starting to feel a bit fatigued working on this. I had to take a break, get some breathers. Tried to find someone to do some proofreading for me too, but couldn't find any volunteers at the Discord I frequented.

Alright, enough doom and gloom. Let's get some stuff out of the way. First and foremost, I merged the prologue back together. Sorry about the confusion that caused.

I also wanted to take a break from all the action that's been going on. Take things slow and let everyone plan their next steps while they lick their wounds.

So first up. The Followers. They're a group that I wanted to add to this story for a long time. And if not them, then some other wanderer like Whisperain. Sadly this chapter was already bloated as is, so any real interaction between parties has been pushed back. Same goes for any medical drama. Ah well, better late than never, I suppose. Not much to say about Rhodes Island at this point. Just some cleanup and an infodump on the Wasteland.

And now the current pitstop for Six and friends. It's basically an homage to the Rookie Village from S.T.A.L.K.E.R. I honestly didn't learn of the series until I saw the trailer for S.T.A.L.K.E.R. 2 during Xbox's livestream (and a certain fan video). I found the whole concept behind it to be fascinating. It kinda reminded me of Metro and the SCP Mythos. Speaking of the former, there's an easter egg or two from the former series in here. I lifted a certain weapon from Exodus because I thought it'd fit in this X-Over (and give Six another local weapon to fall back on).

So next chapter… Bounty-hunting and questing here, interacting with the Followers there. Probably some Integrated Strategies too. Not too sure if it'll be set during Crimson Solitaire given the timeline, but I imagine that the Crimson Troupe has set up multiple safe houses at the very least. And who doesn't love haunted mansions anyway?

As for Rhodes Island… maybe a meeting or two with some influential people and a couple of search parties. Tone in next time for chapter 12: Apostles of Another Apocalypse! …for real this time. Hopefully…

UPDATE: Bad news. Caught C19 shortly after posting this chapter. Was already vaccinated and boosted thankfully, but it still hit me like a freight train. Already having a coughing fit and my brain doesn't feel like it's fully optimized. So it's probably gonna take longer to write up the next one. Son of a fucking bitch. I do have some good news, though. I decided to port this story to Archive of Our Own while I'm recovering. I was gonna wait until Six reached Lungmen to do that, but seeing as how I'm taking a little break... why the hell not? Still figuring out how it works, though. So many fucking tags! I've also been trying to host images of fanart onto here too. They're all by a user on Reddit call 'GA_LO_KING'. You can also find them on Pixiv and Twitter (though the latter has seen better days. No telling how long before that sinks.).

Chapter 13: Apostles of Another Apocalypse

Summary:

The circumstances of their worlds' apocalypses may be different, but their credos are the same.

Date: October 7th, 1099

Location: Village of Grinkhorn, Southern Ursus Border

Time: 8 AM

Noticeboards. Simple things, aren't they? They're just boards for posting notes and pictures. But they attracted a large variety of users. Universities, corporations, laboratories, law enforcement conspiracy theorists. Many of the larger settlements of Terra had moved onto something called 'forums' in recent times. The wastelands of both worlds, however, didn't have that kinda luxury.

Six and Lyudmila were both reading the board's contents. Half of it was just random messages. Poems, complaints, jokes, news, and gossip. The other half were various jobs. Collecting water samples from a nearby river, catching food for the cooks, recon, salvage.

And of course, there were bounties. An Ursus deserter, a cult of Casters worshiping some dead overlord, Sarkaz raiders, a Sankta sniper, and more. A rather diverse range of targets, if he were to say so. This could be a decent challenge for him.

Then his eyes fell upon a particular bounty. A hulking brute dressed up as a knight of old. Six blinked. This world had the mafia, mobile cities, smartphones, flatscreen TVs… and knights? Real knights, not some cosplayers like the Brotherhood of Steel. It certainly didn't appear to be power armor either. He faintly recalled Croissant mentioning knights in one of Terra's countries, but he didn't think she was talking about the genuine article.

Lyudmila's eyes were fixed on the man's photo. She was gritting her teeth. Six walked over beside her and took a closer look at the poster.

WANTED: Olmer Ingra, formerly "Brassrust Knight"

Dead or Alive

Wanted for several counts of mutilation, murder, and human trafficking.

Reward is 10K LMD

"Looks like you got some beef with somebody," Six noted.

Lyudmila bowed her head. "More like every Infected soul on Terra does,' she bitterly replied.

"I take it that he has a thing against Oripaths then?"

"Oh you have no fucking idea," she said. "A lot of people share bigoted views towards the Infected, but him… he's outright genocidal. Leaps at the first chance to kill any he sees. Most people used to turn a blind eye to his bloodshed until the last Kazimierz Major."

"Kazimierz Major?"

"A 'professional martial game competition', as scholars like to call it. Really, half of it is commercialized gladiatorial combat. Death ain't uncommon in the games."

"So what happened at the last major?"

Lyudmila's fists balled up. "What do you think?" she hissed. "He killed an Infected Knight while he was using his Arts. Oh sure he was banned from the games afterward, but only because he nearly caused an Oripathic outbreak. Hardly mention or condolences towards the actual victim whatsoever. And people had the audacity to question whether the Infected even had any legitimate right to enter the games, let alone become knights!"

She slammed a fist into the noticeboard, knocking some of the papers off. A minute passed by before she calmed down and helped Six pin everything back on. The Courier also helped himself to scan the contents. Always helps to keep a little reminder on hand. Once he had the necessary information, he started looking around for Nadia's office.

Sure enough, there was a pink neon sign in the shape of a bow and arrow. The head of the latter was shaped like a heart. Like many of the establishments here, there was a sign with a number of different dialects written on it. The English portion read 'Cupid's arrow'.

Six whistled at Lyudmila and ED-E to follow, pointing at the building. Both of his companions followed him into the office. It wasn't much to write about. Just a shack built from scrap metal filled to the brim with filing cabinets. A long desk sat at the center of the room, occupied by a middle-aged Ursus.

A bell chimed as they entered, drawing her attention to the door. Her eyes widened when they fell on Lyudmila. She shouted the girl's name and ran towards her. Next thing everyone knew, the assassin was ensnared in a literal bearhug. She gasped and whizzed something in Russian as the woman embraced her. Six snickered at the sight.

Lyudmila phased out of the bear-woman's grip, briefly startling her. When she saw the Lupo on the ground gasping for air, she developed a sheepish look on her face. She said something as she rubbed the back of her neck, probably an apology. Then she noticed the Courier and ED-E. She blinked and said something to him.

The only reply she got was a tilted head. Lyudmila got back onto her feet and spoke to the woman. Six picked up the word 'Victorian' in their dialogue. When the woman returned her attention to him, she spoke in broken English with a strong Slavic accent.

"So, you know Lyudmila, right?" she asked.

Six shrugged. "Just met her a few days ago," he said casually. "And I take it that you're Nadia?"

"Da. I run this little office here. What can I do for you two?"

"You got any intel on some bounties?" Six asked.

"Of course. I keep files on all of them. Which interests you?"

Six walked over and flashed his Pipboy at her, switching between different scans of the posters. She reeled back at one in particular; Olmer Ingra.

"Oh, lord… you go after him?"

"Yes," Lyudmila said.

It wasn't hard for the woman to sense the vitriol in her reply. "Milochka, I understand your distaste for men like him, but he's dangerous. Even more than you."

"Don't worry," Six assured the middle-aged woman. "She's got me to keep her head on straight. And I eat assholes like him for breakfast anyways."

Lyudmila glared at him. Nadia giggled.

"Alright. You convinced me. Just give me minute to get relevant files."

Nadia walked to the back and buried her face in one of the filing cabinets. Six leaned into Lyudmila's ears, whispering to her.

"That ex-knight's wanted poster mentioned human trafficking," Six softly recalled.

The girl glanced back at him, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah? So?" she replied.

"He may be connected to the assholes that stole my satellite."

Lyudmila did a double-take. "Wait, you think he's involved with your tele-"

Six pressed a finger against her lips. He brought another from his free hand to where the gasmask covered his mouth. She got the memo.

"You really think he's smart enough to pull you-know-what off?" she asked.

"You mean spearheading the operation? Doubtful," Six admitted. "But he was probably involved in it somehow. I'd like to interrogate him before we run off with his head."

"And if he's not alone today?"

"That would depend on where he sits in the chain of command."

Nadia had procured and sorted out the relevant files by this point. She stuffed them into a folder and handed it to Lyudmila.

"Here," she said. "Is everything on local scum. Need anything else?"

"Maybe," Six said. "Y'all need someone to collect water from the local river, correct? I assume that you have the tools and materials for such tasks? And bags and preservatives for hunting?"

Nadia nodded, quickly reaching into her desk and procuring some test tubes. She handed it to the Courier, watching him slip it into his backpack. She then grabbed some bags from a makeshift coat rack and gave them to Lyudmila.

"Just bring sample to me and I'll hand it to expert. Bartender takes in fresh cuts"

The fleshlings thanked her for her assistance before they departed. The trio walked back to their room, setting the files on the table and taking seats. For the next hour, the two spent their time reading the papers, formulating a plan of action for each job and bounty.

The general chores would be done during the daytime. The bounties, on the other hand, would be best conducted throughout the night. It'd be impractical to bring in rotting heads from one bounty to the next for a variety of reasons, so they were gonna have to make multiple trips to and from the village. Hopefully Nadia- or at least a coworker of hers- will be up to collect them.

The bounties themselves would be a bit complicated. One of them was a hedge-mage from a country called Leithania. According to Lyudmila, it was as renowned for its research into Arts as it was for its corruption. The only redeeming quality was apparently its musical tastes and contributions.

The weird thing, though, was how they weaved both schools together. The country held a popular belief that music and arts were somehow connected.

Sounds like everyone's a fan of Tolkien there. Six thought to himself.

Another bounty focused on a group of Sarkaz. Their leader bore a striking resemblance to the brutes he faced in Kazdel. Apparently, there were a number of subraces within the Sarkaz populace. One of the more common ones was the Goliaths, easily identified by their ram horns and devilish tails. The males apparently could grow up to the size of a Super Mutant. The similarities put Six on edge. He prayed that these were the result of naturally-occurring mutations and not something like the FEV.

But the biggest problem was Ingra. The files made him out to be an unhinged version of Lanius. Brutal, berserk, and all-around bloodthirsty. And as Lyudmila claimed, he held a zealous hatred towards the Infected. His guide would probably be the bastard's priority during a firefight. Perhaps they could exploit this? She wasn't too keen on the idea of acting as bait, though.

Six rose from his seat and got the door, holding it for his partner with a bow. She rolled her eyes as she walked past him, only to scamper back into the room like a bat outta hell. She nearly knocked Six as she slammed the door shut, falling onto the floor. She was hyperventilating, tail between her legs.

"Woah woah woah!" Six shouted, trying to balance himself. "The hell's your problem!?"

The only answer he got was her pointing back at the barrier. Six raised an eyebrow as he slowly opened the door back up. As he poked his head out, he noticed a familiar sight.

It was that blond-haired woman with the polearm. She was sitting in a rocking chair just outside her room, nose buried in a book. From where Six was standing, it didn't appear to be in Russian or English. He swore he saw that language somewhere in his travels, though. He just couldn't remember the name off of the top of his bullet-ridden head. Six silently shut the door and looked back at Lyudmila. Now she seemed to be lost in her own world, muttering under her breath.

"Mila… what's wrong?" Six asked.

She didn't seem to register anything he said.

"Lyudmila…"

He walked over to the Lupo. Now he could pick up bits and pieces of her rambling.

"I can't believe it… she's here… she's after my head… she'll drag my ass back to Ursus and…"

Six knelt down and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Mila, you okay?" he asked softly.

She was muttering to herself. Six was losing his patients. He shook her. Hard.

"[Charisma 4/6] HEY!" he screamed at her face. "SNAP OUT OF IT!"

[FAILED!] The girl panicked again, this time throwing Six onto ED-E. The dynamic duo crushed onto the Courier's side of the room, the impact quaking the wall enough to throw everything off of his shelf. Books rained down on them as the girl finally snapped back into reality. She examined the scene with a mortified look on her face.

"S-six," she stuttered. "I-I'm sorry. I-"

Six recomposed himself and knelt before her again. This time, he just held out his hand. She gladly accepted it and was helped back onto her feet. Six led her to his bed and shoved the books into a corner, offering her a seat. She sat down beside him.

"Six…" she said. "Do you know who that woman is?"

Six shook his head. She looked at him in disbelief for probably the hundredth time, but she quickly brushed that aside.

"You remember that Major I mentioned?" She asked. He nodded. "Well, she won that tournament. Twice. And without sponsorship from any corporation or knightclub, no less."

Six tilted his head. "She was an indie knight?" he asked.

"And a bit of an upstart at that. So much so that she was exiled from the Kingdom the first time around. Supposedly it was because she was Infected, but…"

She was clawing at the floor now. "That was a fucking lie. That was a lie to get her out of the Chamber of Commerce's hair. And when she came back for another run at the tournament, they revealed the truth to everyone. After she had won."

"Damn."

"And they tried to assassinate her both times. They failed of course. But that's not what this is about."

She turned to look him in the eye. "Six, I fought her before," she revealed.

"You were a contestant?"

"No! But this was before she returned to her homeland. She… was working with a faction that got caught up in my militia's struggles. We made them out as enemies and she proved herself to be a capable warrior. Wiped out many of our squads. Many of my fellow Infected. Our conflict with them ended years ago, but-"

"You think she's got beef with you?"

Lyudmila nodded. Six's brows furrowed.

"How dangerous is she?" he asked.

"Her younger sister beat Ingra to a standstill," Lyudmila replied. "She, however, has enough power and experience to garner attention from the Silverlance Pegasi."

"The who?"

"Kazimierz's elite forces."

Six scowled.

Great. He thought to himself. A knight that can give Centurions a run for their money. If what she said is true, then we've got a powder keg on our hands.

Six lowered his head, debating on the next course of action. An age-old idea crossed his mind.

"What about a disguise?" he suggested. "Or at least a mask?"

Mila's eyes narrowed as she processed the proposal. "That… does sound like a good idea," she admitted.

"Alright then. Just tell me your measurements and I'll-"

"Nyet."

Lyudmila walked over to the window and opened it. "I'm not just going to let you handle my wardrobe, izvrashchenets," she interrupted. "Not when I can just slip out and meet you at the store. Look for a place called 'Yaro's'."

Before Six could ask for directions, she slid out the window. He ran over to the opening to see her vanish into the distance. He cursed as he closed the glass barrier back down. He motioned ED-E to follow him, creeping past the blonde-haired mutant and out of the inn.

Six looked at his PIPboy. Maybe Hoover installed some type of tracking feature on it? He already had her phone number. Six fiddled around in the smart settings until he found something; 'Find Our'. Lyudmila's contact was the first thing to pop up. He smiled as he tapped it.

That expression did a 180 as a message popped up.

Error! Contact appears to have disabled location-sharing. Please speak with them for permission to locate their device.

Six sighed. Well, at least he had an excuse to do some exploring. It took him a couple of minutes of wandering, but eventually, he found his companion. She was standing just outside of a wooden building with a bunch of different signs. The one in English read 'Yaroslava's Rags'. Six snickered. He had seen worse names for stands.

The young woman led them inside. The interior was more or less similar to Kovalenko's shop in regards to layout. Vending both front and center, supplies in the back. The key difference was in all of the clothing on display. It reminded Six of old pre-war stopping centers in the Mojave area.

The vendor herself was actually younger than Six expected. In fact, she appeared to be a younger version of Nadia. Her personality, on the other hand, appeared to be the exact opposite. Where Nadia had the warmth of a hearth, this woman had a sense of cold detachment. Apathy.

Her clothes were in nothing but blacks and grays. Her face was cloaked in dark makeup, giving her a gothic sort of vibe. What was the pre-war term some First-Gen Ghouls used for that style? 'Emo'? Yeah, emo was probably the word he was looking for.

She was hunched over her stand as they entered, hardly reacting as the bell chimed.

"Welcome to Yaro's Rags," she said in an indifferent tone. "Where the garbage is the least of your worries…"

When she noticed the party, she perked up. Did a double-take even as her eyes fell upon Lyudmila.

"Missed me?" the Lupo chuckled.

"Missed you? Nah," the other woman claimed. "But I didn't expect you to come back after-"

She stopped as she noticed the Courier. "Who's the tall and scary guy?" she asked.

"Him? Just a wastelander that needed a ride out east."

"He ain't with Rusthammer is he?"

Six tilted his head. Lyudmila sighed.

"A loose coalition of survivalists," she explained.

Yaro snorted. "And this guy never heard of them?"

"He's from the western coast."

"Huh. But aren't you supposed to be, like, training or something though?"

Training? Six thought to himself.

"Let's just say that I'm on holiday."

"Never knew the old hag cared about those. What's the occasion?"

Old hag? Six pondered again. A memory from Chernobog cropped up. Ah, her trainer from Siracusa. He realized. But she left her years ago, didn't she? Did she crawl back to her after Patriot's death?

Lyudmila looked away and she rubbed an arm while Six was lost in his thoughts. He snapped out just in time to see this and Yaro's reaction.

"Oh..." the merchant realized. "That day huh? And you went to the scene of the crime all by yourself?"

"He helped me fend off some vultures."

"Mercs? Damn, nobody in Chernobog gets any rest these days."

Yaro leaned into Lyudmila's human ear and whispered something to her. She shook her head, whispering back. The Ursus had a slight look of disapproval on her face. Maybe even concern too.

"We're looking for a change in wardrobe," Mila said out loud. "Specifically something with forest camo."

"Finally expanding it now, are we?"

"Just for this occasion. We're hunting."

"For game or…?"

"Both."

Yaro gave the Lupo another disapproving frown.

"Something wrong?" Six asked.

"She… has a dim view on bounties."

"Dead bounties," the vendor clarified. "I have no issue with them being brought in warm."

"Come on, Yaro. The world's hardly a nice place these days. Scum like Ingra would love nothing more than to watch people like us burn. You really want to let them roam so close to home?"

"I'd rather leave them in a cell than in a grave."

"And what jurisdiction would be willing to trade with, let alone pay us? This place wasn't on good terms with the Empire last I was here."

"Plus carrying a live body from their hideout to here comes with its own assortment of complications," Six added.

The woman sighed. "Let's agree to disagree," she said. "Clothes are to your left. Changing room to your right."

"How much protection do your wares provide, if you don't mind me asking," Six asked.

"All my threads have some basic ballistic weaving in them," Yaro replied. "If you need any additional armor or helmets, I've got some behind me."

Lyudmila thanked the other woman and ventured over to some hoodies. Six leaned against the stall while he waited. He cast a quick glance at the items behind him. Just as she said, it was mostly body-armor pieces and some headgear. The former was forged from a variety of materials. Leather, metal, kevlar, and even wood. The latter was just various models of gas masks and respirators. Some of them bore an uncanny resemblance to the ones of his world. Others appeared to be the upgrades.

He returned his attention to the wolf-girl. She was already trotting over to the changing station with something in her arms.

"So… what do you think of her?" Yaroslava asked.

Six turned to face Yaroslava. "What do you mean?" he asked back.

"I mean how would you describe her?"

Six's head bobbed as he pondered. "Fierce, artful, enticing. A bit headstrong at times, but then again what combatant isn't?" he replied. "Threw me off guard the first time we met."

"Off guard? You two tussled?"

"She initially mistook me as a member of some mercs' guild. We sorted it out real quick thankfully."

"Did she tell you anything about her old life?"

"Her dad was a scientist for the Ursus government. And that she fled from said nation after they killed him."

"'Did she ever say why?"

"She showed me a sneak peek. That's all I'm at liberty to say."

Yaro narrowed her eyes. "And what about afterward?"

"You mean living on the streets of Siracusa until she joined a militia back at the Empire? Yep."

"Did she ever say who they were?"

Six shrugged. "'Aegis of the Infected'?"

"That's just the title of a lieutenant," Yaro corrected him. "Did she ever mention them by name?"

Six paused. He shook his head as nothing came up. Yaro was about to say something when Lyudmila waltzed out of the changing room.

Gone was her old assassin's attire. In its place was essentially a camo-themed sports jumpsuit, tucked neatly under an anorak hoodie. Six couldn't help but notice the trefoil-shaped emblem on her pants… and how shapely her new duds were.

[Lady KIller] Six let out a soft whistle. "Functional and fashionable," he remarked. "You're killing it, Tania."

Lyudmila's cheeks turned pink as she scoffed. "Shouldn't you be looking for an outfit yourself?" she asked.

Six leaned off of the counter and thumped his Gear's chest plate.

"That's gonna stick out like a sore thumb in the daylight," she retorted. "Especially to any snipers and game lurking about."

Six's shoulders slumped. He grumbled and cursed under his breath, moving over to the clothing aisle. That robot of his hovered close behind him. Yaro leaned into Lyudmila's ear again.

"Did he just flirt with you back there?" she whispered.

"He did," she confirmed. "And it's rather annoying."

"Sounds like his hormones outpace his brain. Is he always like this?"

"Not when we first met. It started after he pulled me out of a car crash."

"Lemme guess; he stripped you to get to the shrapnel and glass."

"Yep."

"Does he know about your Oripathy?"

"Da. Hasn't deterred his advances, unfortunately."

"But he hasn't gotten handsy with you, has he?"

"My hymen is still intact if that's what you're asking."

"Among other things."

Lyudmila grunted. Six walked past them with something folded up in his arms ED-E stopped to offer them some beeps and chirps, but neither local understood a damn thing it said. The robot followed its master over to the changing room, standing guard at the door.

"So… what do you think of him so far?" Yaro asked.

Lyudmila crossed her arms. "Eccentric. Boneheaded. Perverted. Eerily mysterious. Basically a mudak."

"Have you ever seen him without his armor on?"

"Well, he took off his helmet to show off some scars yesterday. Seemed to be about my age. Or at least part of the same generation. Apart from that, he's too paranoid to remove his armor. Usually sleeps in it."

"He sleeps in all that armor? And he doesn't show any signs of discomfort?"

Mila shook her head. "He didn't have any horns or extra ears under that helmet. His eyes and ears weren't as exotic as some Sarkaz's either."

"Hmm… maybe he's an Agier?"

The former assassin shrugged. "Maybe. Doesn't strike me as all that strong, though."

"Care to elaborate?"

"He struggled to pull the string of a basic bow yesterday. Yet two days ago he was lugging around a Gatling gun."

"Guns!? And he's not a Sankta?"

"Nyet. And some of them fired lasers and green sludge."

Lyudmila leaned into Yaro's ears. "There's something very fishy about that svoloch," she whispered. "And I don't like it."

The ladies heard a door open and shut. They turned to see a towering young man with fair skin and emerald eyes walking toward them. He was adorned in a turtleneck, tactical cargo pants, a keffiyeh scarf, heavy boots, and a parka. Like Lyudmila, the majority of the cloth was in forest-themed camo.

History repeated itself when Yaroslava's eyes popped out and she whistled.

"Well what do you know?" she said. "He does have some muscle after all."

Six looked away and grunted as his cheeks turned pink. The irony wasn't lost on the ladies either, to his dismay. They giggled at his reaction. Hell, even ED-E joined in on the schadenfreude. Six grasped the bridge of his nose and groaned.

"That all you two are looking for today, or would you like some armor to spruce up your duds?"

"Please," Six replied.

Yaro knelt down behind her counter and procured a box of accessories. Padding, pouches, belts, and sheaths for weapons. One item stuck out to the Courier. It was a .308 bullet, repurposed as a necklace. Boone had shown one of these to Six before. It was a Hog's Tooth.

He greedily reached out for it, stopping just inches when his fingers felt… something brushing up against them. Something ethereal. Six shrugged it off and grabbed the artifact, slinging it across his neck. His PIPBoy bleeped as its inventory log was updated. He brought the device up for a brief inspection. He was surprised to find that it carried some actual stats.

Necklace of the Presence: 15 Guns, 1 Luck

That same aura slithered its way into his holsters. He reached down to grab two of his weapons; the Plasma Defender and A Light Shining in Darkness. Both of them felt a bit off now, but he couldn't say why.

"Ah, I see you have a taste for the esoteric," Yaro remarked.

"You could say that," Six replied. "What's the story behind the Hog's Tooth?"

The vendor grasped her chin. "Think it's something Laterano gives to their best snipers," she said. "Heard some superstitious nonsense about their god guiding their bullets and the like. Probably just laced with some homing-Arts or shite."

"Makes sense to me. I'll take it."

Six dished out the LMDs for his wares so far, probably spending up to 700. Lyudmila by comparison paid only 300 for hers, plus 50 for some leather pads. Both travelers purchased a kevlar chest plate, concealing them under their coats. 1000 total. Then it came time for the headgear.

As Yaro was setting them on the counter, Lyudmila froze up. Six followed her gaze to a particular gasmask. It bore a strong resemblance to the M40 line back on Earth. He gazed back at Mila. She had this strange reflection in her eyes now. Was she… holding back tears?

She gently shoved the M40 back to Yaro, shaking her head. The vendor had this condolatory look on her face. She obviously knew something Six didn't. When she gathered herself, she picked up a respirator. Six tilted his head. It bore some resemblance to the RU60's, but it was slimmer. Now that he thought about it, he didn't see any insertion points for filters either. Maybe they used internal pork chop filters? Her friend smiled and rang it up. 300 LMD.

Six already had a good idea as to what he wanted; the MCU-2/P and a helmet. Same price. They pooled their cash together for a few filters, just in case they entered a hazardous zone in the wilderness. 48 LMD for six of those. Satisfied with their shopping spree, the trio left the building.

"Now that you've got a change in wardrobe, what do you wanna do?"

"Stretch my legs some. Gotta get myself adjusted to these threads before we go adventuring. You?"

"Find a shooting range. I wanna try out this crossbow and rifle before the hunt begins."

"Hmm… mind if I join you then? We could trade moves."

Six grabbed his chin as he pondered. "Some training could save me ammo in the long run," he mused. "Alright, I'm game. Lead the way, huntress."

Lyudmila motioned for the dimensionally displaced duo to follow. Both heroes happily complied, keeping close to her as they waved through crowds of scavs.

None of them noticed the bluebird tailing them, though. Nor the soft azure glow it was emitting.

---

Date: October 2nd, 1099

Location: Rhodes Island

Time: 8:00 PM

To say that Rhodes Island has had an interesting life would be an understatement. They had faced insurrections, prevented wars, navigated through political intrigue, stood up against prejudice and injustice, a raid, even faced off against an eldritch abomination or two. And that's not even counting all of the eccentric souls that they had recruited over the years. Former mercenaries and terrorists, noblemen, mad scientists, fallen nobles, victims of mad science, even pieces of literal gods. And those were the tip of the iceberg.

In some ways, today wasn't all that different from their previous adventures. But it also stuck out among those like a sore thumb. Today they weren't just wading through politics or battlefields. No, they were tackling an entirely different beast; SCIENCE!

Exotic technologies have cropped up near Kazdel recently, and Rhodes Island has been working hard to collect them before the neighboring empires did. That wasn't the only thing that appeared on Terra, though. No, several lifeforms have also made the voyage to this twisted little paradise. Most of them were more or less regular humans (albeit of a weaker breed). But some appeared to have undergone… a radical change.

Within an airtight anti-chemical safety cabin were two Medics in hazmat suits. One of them was a Feline with brown hair and amber eyes. The other was a petite Vampire. These were Folinic and Warfarin, respectively. And right now they were scratching their heads.

Kal'tsit came to them with an urgent matter. One that required a fair bit of discretion on their part. When she showed them their 'patient', everything became crystal clear.

The entity before them was called a "Ghoul". Or rather, a feral specimen of a group of mutated humanoids. Not too far from them were the remains of one that retained his facilities. Someone by the name of Bronte. If it weren't for testimony from Projekt Red and Magallan, both ladies would've had a hard time believing that this man was alive to begin with.

At first glance, both specimens appeared to be suffering from leprosy. But closer examination revealed it to actually be necrosis. The Feral's reproductive organs seemed to have rotten off at some point in the past, along with the tongue and some toes. It didn't exactly help that the sweat glands produced macronutrients, drawing in every fly on the landship. Part of the reason Kal'tist had the Feral locked up in this room, actually.

Seeing as that they couldn't identify the phyiscal sex, Warfarin attempted to run a DNA test. To her shock, her instruments couldn't make heads or tails of that either. All it could agree on was the Feral had suffered extensive genetic damage. As far as her machines were concerned, sex and gender could no longer be applied to the husk. Bronte's case, on the other hand, wasn't as severe. Her instruments still identified his genetic sex as male.

Their CAT scans also revealed a number of things about them. Despite suffering from necrosis, cardiac and respiratory processes were still occurring in its chest cavity. Additional scans also noticed some changes in the larynx and vocal cords.

The thing that disturbed Folinic the most was its brain. While Bronte's appeared to be relatively fine, the Feral's was nothing but mush. Amiya had attempted to read its memories earlier, but she could barely get anything out of it. Just that it was wandering some wasteland, occasionally picking fights with the fauna and wastelanders. And Bronte… well, dead men tell no tales.

They quickly had their X-Rays printed off for the Doctor to examine when he returned. Neurology was his domain after all.

And now comes the most interesting part. Some of their returning Operators claimed that Ghouls could be healed by gamma radiation. Not just their skin regrowing or bones mending themselves back together. No, full-blown reattachment of limbs and even resurrection. Warfarin personally found this to be fascinating. Folinic was of course skeptical.

And Closure raised hell when Kal'tsit procured that they reconfigure one of their full body scanners into a radioactive test tube. She argued that could've used the so-called 'Gamma Gun' on the bodies, But Kal'tsit was firm. They had little understanding of its ammunition, let alone that many samples, to begin with. And with how crudely designed it was, they wouldn't be able to study it without causing damage to it or themselves.

They were dealing with new hostiles, hostiles from an alien environment. If any more of them reared their ugly heads, they needed to be ready. Especially when they still have Operators hanging around their point of origin.

Warfarin grabbed a saw and quickly hacked off the Feral's limbs. It howled as each extension went flying off, but it couldn't put up a decent resistance. Not while it was muzzled and tied down onto the patient's bed. Folinic flinched with each strike. As soon as the last one came off, she went to work on collecting and stapling them back on. A bit crude, but necessary for the experiment.

Folinic walked over to the console and brought its settings. Warfarin gave her a thumbs-up. The Feline nodded and activated the machine. The bed was pulled into the tube-shaped base, its test subject still howling and hissing. Their Geiger counters clicked as the radiation leaked out from the machine.

Warfarin looked like she was having butterflies. Considering her race's usual reaction to sunlight, Folinic couldn't blame her. They allowed the machine to run for a couple of minutes before they pulled the plug, Folinic walked over to the 'patient' as the device rolled them back out. To her shock, its limbs were fused back onto its body. There were hardly any signs that they were ever separated to begin with. Both Medics' jaws nearly dropped onto the floor when they noticed its fingers twitching.

"How…" breathed Warfarin.

Neither of them could conjure up an answer, let alone a theory. Folinic shook the stupefaction off and carefully removed the feral from the machine. It was strapped onto a stretcher, so it hardly posed a danger to anyone. She looked back at Bronte's corpse as she sat the creature on the ground.

The 'sane' Ghoul retained some semblance of a face. Sure the ears and nose were gone, but he at least had lips and eyelids. Even if all of his hair was gone, he still retained his frontalis muscles. In her eyes, he still resembled a human being.

She laid the body on the bed and repeated the experiment with it. Just like before, two minutes passed as they bombarded it with radiation. And as the machine released its grip on the corpse, both ladies held their breaths.

Bronte, on the other hand, still wasn't breathing. Each of them took turns checking for a pulse. Nothing. Folinic even grabbed a flashlight and shined it into an eye. No reaction.

They looked at each other. Warfarin seemed a bit disappointed. Had they not pumped enough radiation into him? She put a gloved hand over her shielded face, her gaze bouncing between the living and the deceased. Then she grabbed her bone saw and brought it down just above the Feral's waist.

"Woah, hold up!" Folinic yelled. "Just what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Testing a hunch," she said as she yanked the instrument out. "Run the experiment with this bastard again."

Folinic made a wry face before complying. She helped the Vampire sit the monster onto the bed and ran the machine again. Same as before, two minutes of radioactive bombardment. When the test subject was released from its cold womb, Warfarin unstrapped its legs. Despite the Ghoul's trashing, the legs hardly moved at all. She grabbed one and moved it around some. Nothing happened.

"Just as I thought," she concluded. "Their regenerative properties don't extend to their spinal cord." She frowned. "Pity. I would've loved to have a little word with Mr. Bronte."

The door opened up without warning. Both ladies spun their heads to see another figure in a hazmat suit. They lowered their guard as soon as the emerald eyes behind the mask.

"I think that's enough, you two," said Dr. Kal'tsit.

Warfarin raised an eyebrow. "You sure?" she asked. "There could be more data to be gleaned from these… things."

"These were once human beings, Ms. Warfarin. There's no need for additional testing in this chamber. A simple dissection should be enough to wrap things up… after we put the creature out of its misery."

Folinic shifted slightly. "Is that really necessary, ma'am?" she asked.

"We've already obtained the necessary scans from both of them. And while this entity is technically human, it has long lost its faculties. And given the atrophy and empty stomach, it doesn't appear to possess the mental capacity to sustain itself. To allow it to continue suffering in its current state would essentially be torture."

Kal'tsit drew a needle from her bag. "The only humane thing to do now is to end its pain," she concluded. "I have already arranged for a couple of operating tables and the necessary equipment to be sent here. I am leaving the procedures to you two."

Kal'tsit walked over to the machine's bed and injected the needle's contents into the feral Ghoul. They all waited for one minute. Then two. Three. Five. Nothing happened. Kal'tsit's eyes furrowed as she injected more of the chemical into the alien's body. Five minutes passed and still nothing.

All three medics were stupefied. Warfarin was the first to shake off the shock and grabbed the bone saw again. Folinic wanted to stop her, but Kal'tsit held her student back with a firm hand. Both women looked away as the Vampire sawed off the feral's head. They didn't look back until the screeching ceased.

"There, problem solved." a bloodsoaked Warfarin curtly said. "How much longer before the tables and utensils arrive?"

Fate answered the question for her in the form of a door opening up. Two figures were each pushing a table. And each table had a stand strapped to the front for convenience. The new arrivals- Tuye and Sussuro- swiftly set them up for Warfarin and Folinic. They flinched when they saw the decapitated Ghoul on the jury-rigged scanner.

"Don't ask," the Vampire casually suggested.

Both Medics nodded and promptly exited the chamber. Kal'tsit proceeded to follow suit, but she stopped herself at the door.

"I want a report from each of you by ten o'clock," she said. "Have their brains extracted for further examination. The rest of their remains are to be incinerated. If you excuse me, I have a patient to attend to."

And with that, Rhodes Island's chief medical officer left. Her first stop was the decontamination chamber. Mist rained down on her hazmat suit, washing off any radioactive isotopes that managed to cling to it. A device above the exit scanned her, flashing green and emitting a short tune. As soon as the doors rolled open, she stripped out of the suit and began her journey toward the medical wing.

She smiled as she spotted a certain Lupo among them. Her body was red from all the scrubbing she gave her, but it was a necessity. She couldn't risk affecting everyone else with radioactive particles. And she wasn't going to lose one of her best Operators to radiation sickness.

Projekt Red looked up from her bed to see her mentor walking in. Her tail wagged slightly.

"Doctor…" she said weakly.

"Still reeling from that diuretic?" Kal'tsit asked.

Red shrugged. "Head doesn't hurt as much," she replied. "Stomach's calm now too."

"That is good to hear. Get some rest, Young Wolf. We may need your prowess in the near future."

Kal'tsit turned to leave, but Red grabbed her by the sleeve.

"This man… he came alone," she said. "Do you think… that he is a lone wolf?"

Kal'tsit put a hand on her chin. "Perhaps," she said. "But then again we know nothing about his personal history. And technically speaking he didn't come alone, according to Fox Fire's testimony."

Projekt Red frowned. "Steel cannot hunt like wolves," she said. "Wolves are blood and flesh. And lone wolves… die alone."

"All the more reason to find him before some ambitious nobles do," said Kal'tsit. "And to return him to his homeworld. To his pack, if he still has one."

Red smiled as she released her grip on the medical officer. The young wolf then drifted off to sleep. A slight smile crept onto her teacher's lips as well. She and her squadmates had a hard day yesterday. They all deserved some rest. Pity that Rangers didn't get much R & R.

He was assigned to another squad by Amiya not long after they returned. They had already flown out several hours ago toward the Doctor's last known position. Liskarm had just left with another to track down Rainbow Team. Everybody else- or at least Operators they could trust to keep their lips sealed- was on the lookout for the Courier.

She sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. Even if they had a rough idea as to where he was going, Terra was still a large world. They have a lot of ground to cover if they want to find him. While the Ark was equipped with various sensors, they weren't exactly suited for manhunts. Part of the reason Amiya wanted to go to Great Lungmen was that they had the resources to do so… if they could convince Wei to keep the Yanese authorities out of the loop that is.

She checked her clock. 8:45. Time to visit Closure.

---

Date: October 7th, 1099

Location: Village of Grinkhorn, Southern Ursus Border

Time: 10 AM

Six didn't know what to expect when he signed up for this. Fisticuffs? Pool sticks? Axes? Glaives? Nope, none of those. Just ye olde swordsmanship. Was it a rarity back in the wasteland? Hardly. Hell, he even studied some martial arts during his adventures.

Sadly that skill department has waned since he took over New Vegas. Even when he did manage to sneak a new adventure or outing into his current schedule, it was usually engaging an enemy at medium-to-long range. Why put yourself at risk when you can just shoot? That, and most people tended to look down at melee in the Wasteland. He was no expectation.

Thankfully Lyudmila was happy to fill in the gaps. She had already proven herself to be a capable swordswoman, but he didn't think she'd be a drill sergeant. The way she barked orders and helped him maintain the proper posture brought back memories of the NRC and Legion training their troops.

[Melee 50] Many of the techniques bore an uncanny resemblance to those from Earth. The Zornhau, the Absetzen, Zwerchhau, Vor, Nach, Indes, and so on. Piece by piece it was all coming back to him. But a lot of those techniques were designed with longswords in mind. Not his Ripper, and probably not Bumper Swords either.

He still had Ghenna, but he didn't want to risk starting a forest fire out here. He mentally berated himself for not bringing his Kanata with him. Guess he'll just have to scavenge for a decent blade while he's here.

This exercise highlighted a problem on Six's part. Back on Earth, his Endurance allowed him to tank blows from Legionaries and certain creatures. The Terrans, on the other hand, have long since developed the raw power to surpass the average Homo sapiens. Maybe even Super Mutants or Deathclaws.

"Rotate your sword to its false edge," Lyudmila shouted as Six stepped back.

He complied. Lyudmila struck out with an Oberhau. Six raised his blade up in a corkscrew fashion, catching the other one and thrusting his onto her shoulder.

"Good. Now try a Schielahu."

Six brought his wooden longsword against his right shoulder. Lyudmila assumed his previous position and attacked. Six sidestepped to the right and brought his blade down onto her right shoulder. She didn't give him room to breathe, though. She threw in an Oberhau at him, forcing him to counter. Once more he twirled his sword as it came down, catching her on the wrist.

Lyudmila backed up and gave him a nod of approval before striking again. Six was able to block her sword with his own, but not for long. A drop in pressure warned him of an impending Verhagen - a sweep under and over his blade. The textbook response to this would've been a Mutieren. He raised his arms and twisted the blade onto its false edge. As the wooden blade's tip dipped downward, he thrust it onto her chest.

She stepped back again with a smile. Both combatants swing with an Oberhau, locking each other's blades. Six initially attempts to thrust his toward Mila's face but she raises her blade up. Six pushed forward anyway, letting his drop and pressing its flat edge against her arms. Then he released his grip on the weapon and wrapped himself up around her, throwing her onto the ground.

She grumbled as she whipped the dust off. Six offered a hand up, but she gently shoved it aside and rose onto her feet. Both got into position and swung with Oberhaus, locking their blades once again. Six twisted his blade around and displaced her's with his crossguard. He grappled her again, but this time circled around to her back and pinned her onto the ground.

Six leaned in towards her human ears. "So what's my grade so far, coach?" he teased.

"...B plus," she said, face turning pink.

Six raised an eyebrow as ED-E chimed in with a coy beep. Then he realized just how awkward their position was and promptly got off of her. He held his hands up in a defensive manner as he let out a nervous chuckle. The she-wolf grumbled under her breath while she helped herself up.

"That's enough training for now," she said. "Still up for the shooting range?"

Six nodded and motioned for her to follow. The range itself was rather simple; round multicolored targets on stands. Props resembling animals scattered about. Some decrepit practice dummies dangling about. Hell, he swore he saw something from one of those pre-war carnival games.

There were several weapon racks next to them. Most of them were some variation of bows or another, but he could make out a couple of rifles. Six grabbed one and examined it.

Like Scout's, it was pneumatic, with a hand pump and pressure gauge. Six grabbed it and gave the lever a good pull. To his relief, it didn't require much effort to pump. He pumped in more air until he heard an audible hiss. He looked to see the needle spasming as it reached the red zone, but it calmed down after enough air escaped.

[Guns 45] Six checked it for ammunition but was slightly disappointed to find it empty. Then again, he couldn't blame the handlers. Lady Luck has a mischievous streak, so removing the tubes was wise on their part. He cycled the rifle just to be safe. A BB pellet popped out.

Six's ears picked up footsteps not far from them, followed by an additional marker on his HUD. He turned to see another Liberi. This was closer to his and Lyudmila's age group and bore some resemblance to Latino wastelanders back on Earth.

"Hola," he said with a Spanish accent. "Here to test your skills?"

"More like I'm branching out," Six replied. "I assume that you're the owner of this shooting gallery?"

"Si," he said. "And judging from how you handled that rifle, you have a history with long arms?"

"You could say that."

The lad had an intrigued look on his face. "Sankta, eh?" he said. "There aren't many of those around here."

"What makes you think I'm one?"

The other man shrugged. "Some of them can turn off those annoying lights, believe it or not," he claimed. "They just have to be taught so."

"Sounds almost like a firsthand account."

"I had Sankta friends back in Iberia. I'm Dimas."

"Six."

Dimas raised an eyebrow.

"Amnesia," he curtly explained. "Six was my designation according to some worn-out contract."

"I see…"

"You said you were from Iberia?" Six asked. "That's all the way down in the southern hemisphere ain't it?"

"Si. And it was an arduous journey to the north."

"You came here for greener pastures?"

"You could say that. Anyway, what can I do for you?"

"Just acquainting myself with this type of rifle."

"Ah, first time with pneumatic weapons, eh?"

Six nodded. "Got a soft spot for weapons," he said. "Thinking about starting a collection back home."

"They're not your religion, are they?"

Six scoffed. "Do I look like some techno-fetishist to you?" he snorted.

"I've met worse. You've got experience with firearms, I take it."

Six nodded. "Some, but not a lot," he lied.

Lyudmila glared at him.

"I see. Well in regards to positioning your rifle, it shouldn't be that different from Laterano's arms. Or the standard crossbow. Of course, you'll want to watch the recoil."

Six resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Elementary. He thought to himself. "Which ammo type would be the best for this weapon?" he asked.

"Depends on how close you want to get to your enemies. Ball bearings are heavier than arrows, so they don't travel as far. Pellets on the other hand are aerodynamic and better at penetrating, but they're factory-made. Can't just find or craft them in the wilds. Of course, none of those are heavy hitters, so don't expect them to penetrate heavy that you'd want explosive arrows. Overall, not the best weapon for humanoid targets."

"Mind if I test that theory?" Six asked.

The man handed him a cylinder of ball bearings. Six inserted the magazine and brought the ironsight to eye level. He started with the closest targets first, moving on to the further ones from the back. By his estimates, the maximum effective range for this ammo type was 100 yards. Six tried out some rubber pellets next. Better accuracy and distance, maximum effect was at least twice as greater as ball bearings.

Six placed the airgun back onto its rack and drew out his modified crossbow. He collected some practice arrows from the man and opened fire. Same range as the pellets, so long as sufficient air was provided of course. Not as stable as the rifle sadly.

Six turned to Mila. "Fancy a few lessons, little lady?" he asked. "Or a contest?"

"I'll pass," she said.

"What's the matter? Afraid that I'll beat you?"

Lyudmila rolled her eyes. "As if," she said. "But right now we've got better things to do. Like hunting."

She walked over to him. "That being said, I wouldn't mind a little competition when we've done our chores. Meet back here in the afternoon?"

The way she looked at him caused a bit of a reaction in his chest cavity. He smirked. "Sounds like a tryst then."

Mila scoffed. "Just try not to get distracted, ragazzo amante," she said before walking off.

Six blinked. Did she just speak in Italian? He shook his head and gave chase. The displaced duo found her at the edge of town, near the woods. She pointed at them with her thumb before running off. Six and ED-E followed her into the taiga.

Not long afterward a blond-haired woman with sapphire eyes walked over to the start of the trail. A blue bird landed on her fingers, tweeting at her. She nodded with an expressionless face and watched as her familiar flew after the strange man.

---

Date: October 2nd, 1098

Location: Rhodes Island

Time: 9:00 PM

There are a thousand words one could describe the engineering department with. Busy. Loud. Cramped.

The same couldn't be said for some of the actual souls working inside. Mayer and Passenger were examining the remains of several of the robots Liskarm's team brought in. And suffice it to say they were rather baffled. None of them had seen models like these, let alone anything fueled by nuclear power. Even stranger was how some of them appeared to be Frankenstein-modifications.

Mayer was hunched over one of the 'eyebots'. From what she's been hearing, their quarry has one of these as a sidekick. Personally, she found this type of bot rather adorable. Cute enough to rival her Meebos even. From what Exusiai told her, its AI was on par with- if not more advanced than- theirs. She couldn't wait to meet the little guy… assuming it doesn't try to vaporize her.

This particular specimen unfortunately had a tendency to blurt out advertisements. Mainly for companies and media she never heard of. The Silver Shroud, speeches from someone called 'The Mechanist', a TV show following a robot named Ralphie, a radio drama starring a 'Mr. Dashwood'. And she swore she heard a recording in Yanese.

Passenger made an audible sigh as Mayer's John Doe began playing yet another tune.

What if there was a place with all the zip of Nuka-Cola?

Wouldn't that be the cheer-cheer-cheeriest place in all the world?

Where the river's made of Quantum, and the mountaintops are fiz-

"Miss Stony, if you would be so kind…" the Caster said.

Mayer nodded and unplugged the speakers. Not long afterward the door to another workshop swung open. Stepping out of it was Closure, brandishing some brown vambrace. No, not a vambrace. The Courier's old PDA. What was it called again? "The Pipboy 3000"? And she got that clunky hunk of junk up and running?

"What do you think?" she said with a grin.

"You finally found a compatible battery for that thing?" Mayer asked.

"Yeah, a Fission Battery."

Both operators dropped their tools.

"Fission?" Passenger said in disbelief. "As in 'Nuclear Fission'?"

"Hey hey, the eggheads already checked for leaks in that baby," she assured them. "If there was any, you'd think they'd just hand over a faulty product to me?"

"I'm more concerned with potential leaks in the future," Gnosis replied. "What happens if somebody dropped it onto a hard surface?"

"Can't be worse than that 'Gamma Gun' Liskarm brought back," said Closure. "Or all those other energy cells for that matter."

Passenger's brow furrowed. Microfusion cells, small energy cells, electron charge packs, gamma rounds, Fusion Cores, plasma cartridges, electromagnetic cartridges. Those were all the names Franka scribbled onto some notes while she interrogated some lowly raider. Raiders running around with weapons powered by miniaturized nuclear reactors. How the hell they managed to learn of-let alone acquire- any of them was beyond him. It was as vexing as it was unsettling.

On the one hand, this project excited him. Nuclear reactors had been around for a few decades, but most people just ignored the technology. For one there was a greater abundance of Originim than there were radioactive materials. But the idea that someone managed to minimize one? It sounded like the stuff of science fiction. Half of him was ecstatic over the possibilities.

The other half, however, felt uneasy. Franka's recording of her interrogations mentioned something called the atom bomb. A weapon that would irradiate the blast zone was one thing, but vaporizing everything caught in the explosion? Burning a person's shadow onto the environment? And if that wasn't disturbing enough, the same civilization behind said technology destroyed itself with it. The thought of a nation or some ambitious Sargon warlord getting their grubby claws on such weapons made even him shudder.

"Did you find anything on our cowboy?" Mayer asked.

"Yeah, this thing apparently recorded some of his adventures," Closure said. "Biometrics too. There're some firewalls, though. Gonna take a bit of time to tear 'em down. But that's not the only thing I discovered."

The Vampire removed the PDA from her arm and began fiddling with its controls. What she brought up appeared to be a list of its unknown users. Two of them caught the scientists' eyes; Mitchell and Six.

Last known users:

Mitchell

Date added: 2232

SPECIAL Rating: 4-6-4-6-7-5-4

Tagged skills: Barter, Science, Medicine

Known Affiliations: Vault 21, Goodsprings

Last update: 2274

Six

Date added: October 19th, 2281

SPECIAL Rating: 8-8-10-3-10-8-3

Tagged Skills: Survival, Science, Medicine, Repair

Known Affiliations: Goodsprings, Primm, Novac, Freeside, The Strip, White Glove Society, Great Khans, Brotherhood of Steel, NCR, Boomers, Followers of the Apocalypse

Last update: September 27th, 2288

Mayer and Passenger blinked at some key details. First of all was the final update. That was the day before he reportedly appeared in Kazdel, wasn't it? The second thing was the years on the list. 2232? 2288? That can't be right.

Mayer was the first to speak up. "What the heck does it mean by 'Special'?" she asked.

"Some type of algorithm in its analytical programs. It stands for Strength, Perception, Endurance, Charisma, Intelligence, and Luck."

Mayer snorted. "Sounds like whoever wrote it was a fan of tabletop games," she noted. "So what exactly is that bad boy? A fitness tracker? Biometric recorder? Smart device? Metaverse console?"

"Not a smart device, that's for sure. Doesn't have access to intranet like most of our current tech. That was supposedly one of the upgrades Hoover gave him for a newer model. That being said, there's some leftover firmware for a compass, motion tracker, and Geiger counter. I'm guessing our cowboy ran off with the hardware after Mr. Hoover printed him a new shell."

"Gieger counter?" Passenger asked. "Why would he need a Geiger counter?"

"Dunno. Maybe he worked at a nuclear power plant at some point. But If that's the case, I'm pretty sure there'd be some record of these things. I haven't found a single catalog mentioning this baby."

She flipped over to another tab. It was a graph of some of the things he accomplished in his previous adventures. His kill counts, chems taken, and any previous addictions. Locks and pockets picked, computers hacked, books read, pants exploded.

The thing that made their eyes pop was his killcount. There were two categories; people and creatures. Both of them had a score in the hundreds. Mayer and Passenger rubbed their eyes, but the numbers never changed.

Mr. Glover took a step back. "He's… a hyper-lethal vector?" he asked.

Closure nodded. "Assuming that this thing is telling the truth of course."

Mayer and Passenger didn't say anything. Couldn't say anything. They knew enough military jargon to know that the phrase screamed 'trouble." Hell, some of their fellow Operators would actually qualify as HL Vectors too. The Abyssal Hunters, Schwarz, Projekt Red, Executor, Phantom, Hellagur. Maybe even a certain Ghost of Babel depending on your definition of 'hyper-lethal'.

Just what the hell had they gotten themselves into this time?

Something else clicked in their heads. This device claimed that he's taken dozens of chem samples, yet it doesn't classify as what said substances were. He's also been noted to have developed addictions at least ten times. Yet the Pip-Boy also claims that said addictions have been cured via "Fixer" and visits to certain doctors. As far as either scientist was aware of, there wasn't a surefire way of curing drug addictions. And this man did?

Closure switched to a tab labeled "Perks". She pointed at several items on the list. Most of them contained the word "Implant".

"So he's a cyborg?" Passenger said. "Fascinating."

"Only from a scientific standpoint," Mayer noted. "He's probably a monster with all those mods."

"'Monster' is a rather vague term," Passenger retorted. "From what Leonhardt reported, he provided medical care to Infected wastelanders. So he's at least capable of empathy. So these 'Perks' are all cybernetic implants?"

She shook her head. "The only confirmed ones. There're mentions of armor and advanced tech, sure, but I wouldn't write them all as such. Some of these actually appear to be data-packages unlocked after meeting certain criteria. Take Mad Bomber and Daytripper for example. It had to grade him based on his work ethic and medical history. I found mentions of 'Ghastly Scavenger' and 'Scrounger', but those aren't actually inactive."

She snorted. "I'm surprised he hasn't unlocked all of them, what with his Skills being straight A's and whatnot. Maybe he has to manually activate each package himself?"

Glover put a hand on his chin. "His cybernetics could make him susceptible to EMPs," he ventured. "Perhaps we could-"

"Bad idea," Stony interjected. "If he's got hardware in his brain, we might fry it in the process. Amiya wants him alive, remember? Not braindead."

Passenger frowned." A fair point," he admitted. "Perhaps stasis Arts would be more practical."

"You mean like Sora and Orchid?"

"Precisely. The former in particular is incapable of harming recipients. She'd be valuable in a potential conflict with our cybernetic quarry."

"Assuming Emperor is willing to lend her to us," Closure noted. "Remember our contract with Monster Records."

"She surrounds herself with volatile variables on a daily basis. I'm sure they can provide adequate protection for her."

The doors swung open. All three eggheads turned to see Dr. Kal'tsit entering the scene.

"Have you compiled your reports yet?"

"I have," said Closure. "Already decrypted that flash drive for you too. They're ready for you to read at your leisure."

She cast brief glances towards Mayer and Passenger. "What about you two?"

Both of them nodded, each procuring folders and handing them to Kal'tsit. Closure followed their example.

"There's a meeting in the Control Center," Kal'tsit said to Closure. "And I want you there."

"'K. What time?"

"Now."

Closure groaned before following the lynx-woman out of the workshop. This is going to be a long night, isn't it?

---

Date: October 7th, 1099

Location: Benjamin Boreal, Southern Ursus Border

Time: 11 AM

How many times has Six seen greenery of this scale now? Four? Five? Ten? Did it really matter? Part of him wondered if he should be getting used to seeing it all by now.

They were in another taiga up north. Benjamin Boreal the locals called it. Apparently, it used to be part of another nation decades ago. 'Gaul', was it? Six faintly remembered Caesar mentioning that word from their brief talks back at the Fort. Probably a smaller nation that was absorbed into the Roman Empire. He wouldn't be surprised if this world's version suffered a similar fate.

He asked Lyudmila about Gaul, but she merely shrugged. Why did he even bother anyway? She was an assassin, not a historian. And honestly talking to her in broad daylight was probably a bad idea anyway.

While they were technically out for scrounging up resources and the occasional scouting, their bounties had already set up shop all throughout the region. If they were smart, they'd probably have patrol parties prowling about. Or at least a scout or two

His motion tracker hadn't picked up any movement so far, but that could change any minute now. What bothered him, even more, was some of the trees already had houses and platforms built onto them. That meant that the enemy had ample sniping spots. Lyudmila, on the other hand, saw it as an opportunity.

"You still got that grapple hook and jetpack?" she asked.

Six nodded.

"Then let's get started."

She sat her backpack on the ground and pulled some stuff out of it. A wrist-mounted grapple shot, a wheel of fiber rope, and a utility harness.

"Since you're sorely lacking in the Arts department, we'll just be using the grapple shot. Take off your coat."

Six tosses it over ED-E, earning him some irritated beeps. Once Lyudmila strapped the harness and threaded the cord through some hoops, he reclaimed it. The eyebot emitted some annoyed boops at him. Then she helped him strap the actual launcher onto his right arm.

"That wheel comes with an internal motor," Lyudmila explains. "So does the launcher. Both of them are linked via Bluetooth."

"That's basically short-range radio, right?" Six asked.

"More or less. Now, the grapple line is propelled either via magneto-impulse projector or compressed gas. We used the latter because it's cheaper and not as expensive to repair."

She held her right arm out. "This model uses a servo as an articulated magnetic hook to grab or impale its targets. The primary source of input for commands is hand gestures. Of course, it also includes buttons for each of those, if you prefer a more traditional method."

She points at a nearby tree with a platform. "Try to latch the hook onto the bark above. I'll show you the gesture for 'impale'."

She pointed with her leftmost fingers as if they were the barrel of a pistol. Six mimicked her as he aimed up at the tree. The next thing he knew, he had crashed into the bark with a loud 'thud!' and splinters all over him. Lyudmila was laughing like a hyena and clutching her stomach. ED-E seemed to be laughing with her.

Six growled as he shook his head. "And what's the other one for 'release'?" he shouted back.

It took a few seconds for Lyudmila to control her laughter before she responded. "Snip with those fingers," she shouted back. "Or press that red button on the inside."

Six snapped his fingers like a pair of scissors and the hook retracted. He dropped onto a knee with a grunt. Lyudmila walked closer to his position and sat a fist-sized piece of scrap onto an ancient stump.

"There's an additional command for that gauntlet; 'grab'. Pretty useful for plucking goodies. Hell, if you're precise enough, you can even disarm some jackasses. You can aim and press the green button, or use this gesture. Repeat either way to have it reel the goods in."

She held out a hand with her inner fingers and thumb curled up into her palm. Six was pretty sure he saw that in a comic once. He mimicked her again and watched as the hook's blades realigned themselves into a claw. The servo was flunked towards the piece of scrap, grabbing hold of it as it collided. It held on as the rope was reeled back into the gauntlet. As soon as Six got a hold of it with his actual hand, the talon released its grip.

"Pretty nifty," Six admitted. "But what happens if it grabs an enemy?"

"Depends on their weight. Anything under a hundred-eight kilograms can at least be dragged along. Anything more's too heavy. Might even pull you along if you're really unlucky."

[Intelligence 7] Six proceeded to count with his fingers. A hundred-eighty kilograms was roughly around four hundred po-

[Luck 4/6] -and accidentally activated the grappling hook again. This time it grabbed Lyudmila and pulled her into his chest, toppling him over. Both of them groaned as the world spun and stars danced above their heads.

"You know what?" Mila said in a dazed tone. "Just stick with buttons."

"Gladly," Six groaned back. "Which one for manual?"

"Blue…"

Six reached over her and pressed it. There were some beeps and a couple of flashing lights for confirmation. Lyudmila helped herself onto her feet, then held a hand out for Six. He took it.

"Alright, class is dismissed," Lyudmila said. "Ready to get back to our chores?"

Six nodded. The three of them spent the next half-hour collecting herbs and fungi for the village chef. Another half-hour was spent hunting for game. That grappling hook proved pretty useful for catching those pesky wad-wabbits. Lyudmila proved herself to be a capable archer during their hunt. Six was almost jealous.

The next stop was this nest of giant insectoid creatures. Needleflies, the bounty called them. They were over a meter long, with razor-sharp stingers and (reportedly) corrosive venom. They reminded him of the Cazadores back home (and to a lesser extent drawings of creatures called 'Stingwings'). Six shuddered as a memory of Bourus's abominations replayed in the back of his mind.

Lyudmila quickly took a few photos on her smartphone and marked its location on her map. The trio snuck away with ease and ventured off toward the ruins of another village. What was it called again? "Rouilleton"?

Whatever its name was, it certainly wasn't abandoned. A gang of Sarkaz had already set up shop inside the ruins. And sitting within the center of it was one of their targets; David the Goliath.

Six scowled, taking cover behind a tree. He took out Christine's rifle and peered through its scope. He recognized some of the units from his crash landing in Kazdel. Lyudmila was happy to provide him with actual names and titles. Greatswordsmen, Casters, Crossbowmen, Sentinels, Lancers, Grudgebearers, Bladeweavers, Fighters. David in particular was a Centurion.

Interestingly, their attire's primary colors were bone-white. And some of them appeared to be setting up an altar. It bore a striking resemblance to the ones in Chernobog.

Lyudmila had that righteous fury in her eyes again. She obviously had beef with this particular group. She looked like she was about to pounce on them, but Six put a hand on her shoulder. He shook his head.

"Plan first," he whispered. "Then you can pounce."

Lyudmila's brows furrowed, but she nodded begrudgingly. "Do you know anything about their ranks?" she asked.

"Apart from the standard swordsmen and crossbowmen? Lancers charge headfirst and Casters ensnare. You?"

"Sentinels can empower their squads with Arts if they spot or so much as get scratched by an enemy. As soon as everyone feels it, they'll know we're here. Grudgebearers fire homing Arts from their hands, and aren't shy of dual-wielding them. Bladeweavers just infuse their greatswords with Arts."

She pointed at an altar. "Sarkaz are renowned for their rituals," she continued. "Altars like that unleash Arts-blasts as a sort of controlled pulse. Usually doesn't differentiate between friend and foe, but those Guerilla Casters and Fighters over there are the expectation. It empowers them."

"How volatile are those altars?"

"Dunno. Why? You fancy some fireworks?"

Six smirked as he drew out some C4 and a detonator.

"Well, that might work… if you didn't have to get close to that thing. Once it starts pulsing, it's not gonna stop. For all we know, those waves might detonate your charges prematurely. What about those rockets of yours?"

"You mean Annabelle? Or Red Glare? Their contents might be fast enough to obliterate that thing before it charges up another shot. But everyone's gonna hear the commotion, regardless. I have some landmines, though. Could be useful for ruining someone's leg day."

"Let's wait for the Sentinels to venture off first. Then we'll lure out the Grudgebearers and Bladeweavers. Pick them off one by one before we toss in the fireworks. Sounds good?"

Six nodded. A few minutes passed before they kicked their plan into motion. Six made the first move by grappling one of the smaller swordsmen. He let out a yelp as he was pulled along, but a knife to the throat kept it from escalating into a scream. That caught the attention of a Bladeweaver, however. Six waited for him to leave the town ruins and venture into the woods.

By the time the brute discovered the body, Six had already swapped out the cartridge in Sleepytime with one containing JHP rounds. He ripped through his armor before finishing him off with his Ripper. He heard more footsteps approaching him and spun around-

-to get his gun thrown out of his hands by another Bladeweaver. Six fell back onto his Hyperbreeder, but the lasers bounced off of his armor. Six took out his Plasma Defender and tried that. It merely dispersed around him.

What the hell?! Six thought. What kinda material is that armor made from?

Six spotted his SMG and made a grab for it. He fired whatever bullets he had in the cartridge and stepped back as he reloaded it. He duked just in time to avoid decapitation, firing onto his enemy's sword arm. He smiled as he Crippled it, drawing out his Ripper and sawing his leg off. He screamed as the limb was severed, but his cries were cut down with it. A swing to his neck ensured that.

Some of the regular-sized swordsmen came over to investigate, but they were all reduced to glowing green puddles. Six reloaded his weapons as he walked back to the edge of Rouilleton. To his relief, none of the Sentinels were any the wiser. Lyudmila returned not long after, giving the Courier a nod and thumbs up. The Bladeweavers were all accounted for. Now came the trickier part.

Seeing as the Grudgebearers have a tendency to multitask, it was decided that Six and ED-E lure them out one by one. A .308, JSP hand load from Christine's rifle pinged against the first one's armor, drawing his ire. ED-E was floating out in the open as bait and fled once the Sarkaz began flinging magic at him. Six kept the pressure on him, soon drawing his argo onto himself as well.

More swordsmen were being drawn to the commotion. As soon as a group of them cluttered up, Lyudmila threw a grenade at their feet. Most of them were killed in the blast, and those that survived were swiftly cut down by the Lupo. The first Grudgebearer joined them soon afterward. And the others were felled with the same strategy.

With them out of the way, Six drew up Annabelle and fired at the Altar. Shrapnel and crimson energy rippled throughout the bandit stronghold. A Guerrilla Caster and a Fighter were both caught in the initial blast, and were seemingly vaporized by the subsequent Arts wave. Another of each class survived, though, and were now coated in a blood-red aura.

That same Aura found its way over to the rest of the camp. At first the trio thought it was the energy burst that was responsible, but then they saw needle-like figures in robes running onto the scene of the crime. It was the Sentinels. They and everyone in the camp were now on high alert. The heroes cursed in their respective tongues.

David arrived at the sight of the explosion, shouting something to his fellow warriors. Six loaded up another missile and fired it at a small cluster of enemies, but a Caster intercepted it with a burst of magic. Fortunately, the resulting explosion produces a modestly-sized smokescreen over some of the demon-folk. Lyudmila pounced on this opportunity and made swift work of the unlucky bastards caught in it. She was already gone by the time the smoke cleared.

One of the Goliath Crossbowmen spotted something darting through some crumbling houses. He motioned for his squadmates to follow him. Just as they rounded the corner, though, they heard a soft click. Then something started beeping. They all knew what that meant. The ones in the rear managed to scramble to safety, but the same couldn't be said for the frontliners. Several were blown to pieces, several more having their legs crippled.

The Goliath archer growled as he hoisted himself onto his knees. His heavy crossbow wasn't too far from him, thankfully. He just had to crawl over there. His knees screamed as he made his way over, but he endured. He was a Sarkaz. Just as he reached for his weapon, someone kicked away from him.

He looked up in bewilderment- no, fury- at the bastard who did it. All he saw was a buckshot flying from the shadows. It pierced his mask and buried itself into his brain, splattering gray matter and blood. His killer emerged from the darkness and switched magazines as his surviving goons entered the scene. They each got a healthy dose of magnum rounds.

Six emerged from the building to come face-to-face with a Sentential. He sawed off his legs with the Ripper and then beheaded while he lay there screaming. He turned to see a Gurllia caster staring down at him. He sidestepped an attempt to club him with his staff, emptying his magnum magazine crippling an arm and a leg. While he was switching out a mag of regular 12 gauges, the mutant unleashed an AOE burst of Arts.

This threw Six back, causing him to drop his Riot Shotgun. Six backpaddled and drew out A Light Shining In Darkness. It took most of a magazine to finally put him down. Six quickly reclaimed his shotgun and reloaded both firearms. Just as he holstered his pistol, a battlecry erupted from behind him. He spun just in time to get clawed across the chest plate by a Guerilla Fighter.

Six snarled as he felt a hand against his chest. The plate took out the brunt of the blow, but it was falling apart. Six rolled around another swipe of his claws and fired at his exposed back. He ducked and rolled under a backhanded swing, emptying out another magazine. The bastard was charging at him when Lyudmila leaped from the crumbling rooftop. She landed on his back and grabbed onto his helmet with one hand. Her other one reached for a knife and jammed it into his neck.

He managed to throw her off and yanked the knife out. That turned out to be a bad idea, as he started coughing and sputtering. He drowned in his own blood thirty seconds later. ED-E flew onto the scene with a few scraps on his frame, but nothing serious. Automated repairs were already patching them up.

Someone started clapping their hands. The trio turned to see a certain Centurion applauding them.

"Looks like you finally grew some fangs, little pup," David said.

"Save it, traitor," Lyudmila snarled.

Six passed a confused glance at the wolf-girl. Did she know this guy?

The giant snorted. "'Traitor'?" he asked. "I'm a mercenary, kid. I only lend my swordarm out to the highest bidder. Ain't my fault that Talulah had stepper pockets than you or Patriot."

"I faintly recall some of your buddies forfeiting payment to join our cause."

"Until the Wendigo kicked the bucket. Reality kicked them in the teeth like a fucking freight train. Ideals don't fill bellies, lass. Only hard cash."

"Speaking of cash…" Six butted in as he brandished the All-American.

The Sarkaz snarled. "You're working with a Sankta?" David snapped.

"Do you see any wings or halos on me? I ain't no angel. And I sure as hell ain't a devil either."

"Then what the fuck are you?"

"A Wastelander."

Six struck out first with burst fire from his combat carbine. David dove for cover as bullets and lasers soared. Lyudmila primed a grenade, forcing him out of his cover. Six stuffed an entire magazine of .223 rounds into his body, but he still stood proud. When he saw that Six was reloading, he sent out twin bursts of Arts at them. Lyudmila closed towards him, dancing around his greatsword as she cut into his legs. She tried to stab him in the knee, but her knife's blade snapped off. She was surprised to see a metal plate under those baggy pants of his.

She altered her density just in time to avoid getting skewed by his greatsword. He would've swung it at her again, were it not for a certain enigma. He snarled as he turned his gaze towards the gunslinger, focusing his firepower on his arms. He let out a yelp as the bone beneath his swordarm crumbled, causing him to drop his weapon.

Lyudmila drew her sword from its sheath and swung it at his neck. He could only let out the briefest of gurgles as she nearly decapitated him, missing his spine by a centimeter. It didn't help him that much, though. He expired seconds later.

Six walked over to the corpse and drew out his Ripper. He sawed off the head the rest of the way and transferred it to his PIPBoy's subspace storage.

"One down, four to go," Six said. "Ready for our scavenger hunt?"

Lyudmila nodded, shaking the blood off of her blade. They spend the next few minutes salvaging the items on their clients' shopping list. Wood, steel, glass, gears, springs, leather, plastic, even medical supplies. Once they'd gathered all of the right materials, they made their way to the nearby river.

"So," Six started as he took out a vial. "You and David knew each other?"

"Regrettably," she replied.

Six filled and capped the tube up, stuffing it into his inventory.

"It sounded like there was a divide in your group," Six noted as he repeated the process. "What did you mean by 'tratior' back there?"

Lyudmila bite her lip. "Let's just say that Talulah had bigger plans than she let on."

"And Patriot disagreed with her?"

"By the time he pieced it together, he probably thought it was too late. He would've taken the fight to her himself but he ran into… a third party."

"The knight's group?"

Lyudmila nodded. Six blinked. Her people killed that guy?

"More like her employers," she corrected herself. "But she was among the warriors present at Chernobog. Or rather, its heart. Honestly, he probably thought they were doing him a service granting him a final battle like that. His Oripathy was more severe than most folk I knew at the time."

"And where were you in all of this?"

"I… had a crisis in faith during that time. I stayed out of the fighting and watched from the fence."

"What happened?"

Lyudmila sneered."Look, a lot of this is personal and cuts real deep for me, okay!?" she snapped. "Just drop it!"

Six was taken aback by her sudden outburst. And apparently, she was too.

"I'm…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- It's just… a lot happened that day. You ready to head back to base?"

Six nodded. The flesh bags maintained an awkward silence as they trekked back to Grinkhorn. ED-E kept glancing back and forth between the group and the trail behind them.

"What's wrong, buddy? Six asked.

ED-E emitted some concerned beeps.

"Does it appear to be humanoid?"

ED-E emitted some negative beeps, followed by some expository tones.

"It's probably just some curious critter," Six presumed. "Not everything in the world wants to eat ya after all."

ED-E emitted some bleeps again.

"Well, if something tries to get the jump on us, you'll be the first person to know, right?"

ED-E emitted some prideful beeps. They had already reached the village gate and-

Six locked up. There, fast asleep on a fold-up chair was the Sarkaz in white. Lyudmila walked up to him and tapped his shoulder.

"Hey, something wrong?" she asked.

Six shook his head. "It's nothing."

Six started walking over to Cupid's arrow to collect their payment. Lyudmila cast a glance back at the woman near the trail. For some reason, she was getting a sense of deja vu.

Nadia was inside the building, helping herself to some type of sandwich. It reminded the Courier of something Douglas had once sold. What did he call it? 'Cranberry meatball grinder'?

"Welcome back, Malen'kiye," she said with a mouthful. "What can I do for you?"

The duo unpacked their goods and sat them on the ground. Mila typed something on her smartphone while Six placed the vials and a marked map on the desk. Nadia's phone beeped shortly afterward. She glanced at it while wolfing down the rest of her meal.

"Horosho. That's… let me count for second. Salvage, six hundred. Samples, three hundred. Meat… hm, eight hundred. Recon, three hundred. Is this all?"

Six took David's severed head out of subspace. Nadia jumped up and nearly gagged at the sight.

"Put it in a bag!" she shouted.

Six complied while Lyudmila gave him a 'WTF' look. He took out a wanted poster of the target and showed it to her. The woman calmed down and readjusted her glasses.

"David Reese?" she cast a glance at Lyudmila. "Tie up loose ends, malen'kaya ledi?"

"More like he was an obstacle," Lyudmila claimed. "He and his gang set up shop in Rouilleton."

Nadia frowned. "Ah, I see," she said. "Well, thanks for freeing up that old dump. Now that head is… oh, seven thousand. Total should be about nine thousand LMD. Don't waste it all, deti!

The duo split their payment up and bid the elderly woman farewell.

"Think that's enough community service for you-know-how?" Six asked.

Lyudmila nodded. "Can we get lunch first, though? I think I've worked up a bit of an appetite out there."

"Alright. But who's gonna pay?"

Mila shrugged. "Flip a coin?"

Six took out a strange gold coin from his pocket. On one side was a bald man with a laurel wreath. Engraved above him were the words Aeternit Imperi. The other side contained an image of a bull, with the words Pax Per Bellum.

Lyudmila raised an eyebrow. Isn't that the Lateranian tongue? Or is she thinking of Minoan?

"Something I looted from a slaver's corpse out west," Six explained. "Caesar's Legion."

"Never heard of them," Lyudmila said.

"Of course you wouldn't have. They've been on the decline for a while now."

"Decline?"

"Their leadership hasn't been in good health for the past few years."

"Why?"

Six shrugged. "Old age? Initially, it was because of a brain tumor or something, but that's been taken care of long ago. Probably left its mark on their overlord's brain. Anyways, I've got heads. You've got tails. Ready to flip?"

Lyudmila flipped something alright. She flashed the double cheeseburger at him with a grin. Six rolled his eyes as he flipped the coin and caught it.

[Luck 4/5] Heads.

"God dammit," Six cursed.

Lyudmila snickered. "I never knew you were such a gentleman," she teased.

ED-E joined in on the laughter. Six grumbled under his breath as the trio walked inside. None of them noticed the bluebird spying on them from a nearby rooftop. Nor did they see it fly to a certain woman in white. She stirred to life as the glowing specter landed on her lap.

"You're back," she said. "Have they returned yet?"

The bird chirped.

"I see… what did you find?"

---

Date: October 2nd, 1099

Location: Rhodes Island

Time: Around 9 PM

Geology. The study of the earth and its bones. Its chemical and mineral makeup. Even its history. An underrated science, if you were to ask some students.

Earthspirit was studying some samples taken from the ruins of Staubstadt. Rocks, soil, even pieces of originium The only complication was that she had to wear a hazmat suit while she conducted her research. At first she found it puzzling that they'd have her study something from Kazdel. Even more so when there weren't any reports of Catastrophes within the village's region for the past few years. But when she conducted her tests, she quickly saw.

The first thing she noticed was how little originium there was in these. Usually, some residual particles lingered on after a Catastrophe. Initially part of her suspected these to be from Kjerag, but the Ph levels were too high.

But the most startling revelation came from her Geiger counter. It was subtle, but there were traces of radioactive isotopes in all the samples. As far as she was aware, nuclear power wasn't all that popular in most countries. The only exception might be Columbia, but even they were hesitant to embrace it. She blamed the originium monopoly.

She wasn't the only one involved in this project, of course. Mudrock was also recruited into this project at the behest of Kal'tist. Actually, she was the one who picked out these samples. Her innate Arts allowed her to sense something within them, something that made them stick out.

She tried to form one of her miniature automatons from a pile of clay, but she struggled to maintain a humanoid shape. When she finally got one to function properly, it was… well, a blob with needle-like tendrils. If Earthspirit were to guess, the isotopes might've been disrupting her Arts. But she didn't have the time to test that theory out, though. Not unless Kal'tist waltzed in here and threw another hour of work at her.

She glanced back at Mudrock. She was leaning so close to them, straining herself to hear them. Her facial expressions were a whirlwind of negativity. Confusion, shock, horror, disgust. A couple of times it seemed as though she was about to blow a fuse. Every now and then she wrote something down in a tiny notebook. Small enough to place in one's pocket.

And people call you the crazy one. Snorted a voice in the back of her head.

She followed the source to the originium crystal in her staff and lowered at it.

What? You're the only one that's receptive to my transmissions. It continued.

"And the first ones you sent were nothing but gibberish," she whispered back at the rock.

If it makes you feel any better, your brain was a flippin' maze before I found my way around.

Earthspirit rolled her eyes and resumed her research. The last thing she needed was some annoying telepathic chunk of ore distracting her from her work. She looked at the clock beside her. 9:20. Time to clock out.

"I'm leaving now," she told Mudrock. "Deliver my findings to Kal'tsit when you're done with yours."

Mudrock nodded and wished her goodnight as she departed. Though the halls of the scientific wing were eerily silent, the actual labs themselves were bustling with activity. Mudrock had offered an abridged version of her mission, but she could hardly believe it. Bandits teleported outta nowhere? And armed with advanced technology at that?

And speaking of tech, she just passed by rooms filled to the brim with it. In one were Gnosis and Mayer, studying the wreckage of some robots. Another, more private room was opposite of it. She could hear something resembling energy blasts. It didn't sound like any Arts she knew of, though. Wasn't it occupied by Sesa and Adnachiel?

She shook her head. None of that was her business, and she certainly wasn't being paid to ask about all this. Her main focus should be relaxing and getting some R . She slipped into her dorm and quickly changed into her nightclothes. Tomorrow was just going to be another day of work. Another paycheck.

---

Date: October 7th, 1099

Location: Grinkhorn, Southern Ursus Border

Time: 2 PM

Lunch sped by the heroes real quick. Even shorter was their meeting with Chayka. Nadia had just informed him of their accomplishments and he seemed pleased with their conduct.

"Mhm, everything appears to be in order," he muttered. "So you're at least smart enough to read and identify your objectives. And you're competent in stealth and combat. Alright, you've completed your end of the bargain, I'll start mine. I'll make a couple of private calls and arrange your friend's passage. But if you're going to infiltrate civilization, you'll need a key item."

The man walked over to a cabinet and pulled out something from it. It was a device with an optic installed at the front. If he were to guess, it was this world's version of the camera. Part of him wondered if it used film or contained the images digitally.

"You might be avoiding the front door," Chayka began. "But you're still interacting with society nonetheless. If you want to keep a low profile, we'll have to forge you one. You'll need a passport and a couple of other pieces of identification."

"I thought those were just for gaining entry into the big cities?" Six asked.

"Among other things. You'll need them for certain services."

"Name one."

"Bars."

Six shook his head in disbelief. "Seriously?" he asked.

"Seriously. They're not gonna serve up drinks to random strangers. There are laws against giving alcohol to kids. And the penalties for breaking it can be pretty damn severe depending on the locale. So yes, you need a tiny slip of plastic to get into some places. This won't take long. I'll just take a photo and ask you some questions."

The Courier crossed his arms.

"Don't worry," the elder assured him. "You don't have to be honest with me. Now take off that hood and mask."

"Could I bleach my hair before we start?" he asked.

"If you happen to have anything for the job. And have enough to consistently recolor it to keep up appearances."

Six grumbled under his breath as he removed his headgear. The Courier adjusted his locks of hair slightly before he stepped in front of the ancient machine. Chayka raised an eyebrow.

"Hold up, what race are you? Aegir?"

Six wanted to slap himself but he resisted the urge. Instead, he casually shrugged.

"Woke up without any racial traits after my near-death experience," he lied. " If I had anything like tails or horns, they were probably hacked off when I was ambushed."

"Ambushed? By who?"

"Someone that wanted a package I was carrying. They shot me in the head and I barely survived. Lost my memories and original face in the skirmish. Got my revenge eventually, but it didn't fix anything."

The man clasped his fingers together and let out a small 'hmm'. He walked over to his desk and reached for something from a draw. It was a pin. Then he plucked some of his feathers off of his person and super glued them onto the clip.

"We'll write you off as 'Liberi' then," he said. "When that dries, you can pin these onto your hair and we'll take your picture then. In the meantime, I've got some questions to ask. I can see your eye color and gender a kilometer away, but I don't have a meter stick on hand. Do you know your height?"

"Six feet, two inches," Six said before counting with his fingers. "[Intelligence 7] or at least 188 centimeters in the metric system."

"Alright. Address?"

"Does 'The Wasteland' count?"

"In this case? Yes. And if what you say is true, there's no need to ask about your social security number. Date of birth?"

"Can't remember. Amnesia. But I was revived on October 19th."

"Can't remember the year either?"

Six shook his head. The man sighed as he jotted the answers on a notepad. "What about an alias and signature?" he asked. "Because I doubt 'Six' will sit with most civilized folk."

Six took out a sheet of paper from his pocket. It was a list filled to the brim with names. The man blinked.

"I… reportedly had a habit of using aliases before I lost my memories to bullets," Six claimed. "My old employers at a couriers' guild kept a list of all the ones I used."

"I see… Any, in particular, you had in mind?"

Six placed a hand on his chin as he examined the piece of paper. There were so many to choose from. So many to scramble. Jonathan Guitar. Jason Argonaut. Artem Weiss. Nimrod. Hercules. Ahura Mazda. Ra.

His eyes fell upon two in particular. 'Vela' and 'Theseus'. He smiled and grabbed a small piece of paper. He forged a makeshift signature for the middle-aged man and handed it to him.

The man nodded in approval. "Theseus Vela, eh? Alright then. That's about it. I'll contact you once we've got all the players onboard. In the meantime, relax. Or don't. We've still got plenty of bounties and oddjobs."

Six nodded and gave his thanks before exiting the room with his companions Lyudmila turned to him as they went into the bar.

"So… Liberi, huh?" she asked with a hint of jest. "Certainly explains your reflexes."

Six shrugged. "[Perception 8] Well, folks back home liked to call me a 'Monocled Falcon'," he replied.

"So what's the plan now?"

"Dunno. You still up for that contest?"

Lyudmila stretched her arms out. "Later," she yawned. "Right now I need to rest my legs."

Six couldn't help but yawn too. "Alright. I can get behind that. Got some reading I need to catch up on anyway. How about before dinner then? Loser has to pay."

The girl smirked. "You're on," she said.

The trio made their way back to the room. Lyudmila stretched herself across her bed while Six took a seat at the table and took out a book from his backpack. The medical book that fox-eared woman gave him back in Da Vinci, to be precise. What was her race called again? 'Vulpo'?

He had been curious about the physiologies of this world's races for some time now. Just during lunch, one of the scavs claimed that Perros- dog people- had a chemical aversion to chocolate. Probably the theobromine to be precise. He wouldn't be surprised if they had a similar reaction toward acetaminophen and ibuprofen. Maybe he can exploit these weaknesses in the near future.

Different animals back on Earth also had different levels of durability. Something told him that a regular scalpel won't cut it with some races (or cut off too much). By the time he closed the book, two hours had already passed. It was a good read, but books alone can only get you so far. He needed field experience.

His mind wandered back to the medical center. Chayka did say they were understaffed at the moment. Six rose from his seat and glanced back at Lyudmila. She had already drifted off into a blissful nap. He ripped a page from a notepad and wrote a message down on it. Then sat it in her bed and walked to the door.

"ED-E, guard mode," he ordered.

The eyebot emitted some acknowledging beeps, followed by some inquisitive ones.

"Just lending a hand with the local medics," Six said. "I need to practice my skills with a scalpel if I'm gonna take care of myself and Tania here. I'll be back by dinnertime."

Six locked the door as he slipped out. As he walked down to the bar, he couldn't help but notice how empty it was. Then he saw several scavs running towards the training area. Several more were walking away from it, holding onto bags of ice and the occasional bandages.

"Yo, what's going on?" Six shouted to a trio of Ursus.

"Knight is giving out lectures at sand pit," said one. "Roughed some contenders up a little, but otherwise is careful."

Six put a hand on his chin. That woman was giving out fencing lessons? Sounds like he could pick up a few lessons from her class. Not to mention that'd give him a look at her tactics. If she is as dangerous as his guide described her, then any intel he can pick up would be available.

"Say, aren't you man that killed Reese?"

All eyes fell upon him

"...maybe?" Six replied. "Had some help."

"Did town big favor either way," said the man. "We cannot thank you enough."

Six turned his gaze back to the medical tent. "Uh, you're welcome?" Six said awkwardly. "But I really need to get going."

The bear-man nodded as the Courier walked away. The place hadn't changed a bit since he was here. And neither had its occupants. Scavs were still being bandaged up and medics were running around trying to attend to everyone. It felt even more crowded right now. Probably from the influx of 'challengers'. None of them seemed to be critical, though. Just some bruises and the occasional black eye. Hell, many of them were tending to the more critical patients.

Those two women tending to a man all wrapped up in bandages. If it weren't for the bear ears sticking out, he'd probably have mistaken him for Joshua Graham. Six walked over behind the ladies to get a better look at him.

[Medicine 40] Most of his body was covered up, so it was impossible for him to give a proper prognosis. But he appeared to be missing a limb at least. And he had a peculiar smell to him. It smelled like a burn, but not the charred kind. No, it smelled like some type of chemical. Something about it felt familiar to Six. Where had he picked up that scent from?

A memory replayed in his mind. Dark tunnels, black snail-like shapes, a burnt leg… Six's brow furrowed.

Slugs. Six realized. And the acidic variant judging from the smell.

It was then that both women realized that someone was behind them. Six jumped back as they spun around, the taller lady clutching her sword. They both cooled down when Six held up his hands defensively.

"Sorry," he said. "Got a bit curious. I assume that guy ran into acid slugs or something?"

'Da," said a masciuline voice. "This idiot went digging around in slug nest for easy den'gi."

Six turned to see the Feline doctor from earlier. He still had that deadpan expression on his face, bags under his eyes.

The doctor shook his head. "Ihor didn't think to bring backup with him, or take variants into account. He is lucky that a fellow stalker nearly tripped over him as he crawled out."

He shook his head. "Second-degree burns. Thankfully not deep enough for permanent damage. His clothes took up the brunt of blow, so to speak."

"[Medicine 50] He didn't need skin replacement did he?"

"Fortunately, nyet," the man replied. "It wasn't deep enough to necessitate replacement, but he still lost much of outer skin. Had to graft healthy layers onto damaged ones. Surprised you know about this technique."

"I picked up some medical books out in the Wasteland," Six said. "Many of them were probably outdated by the time I dug them up, though." By several centuries.

"Have you any medical experience?" Six couldn't help but sense some desperation- hope- behind those words.

"Some," Six said. "Stitched up my partner and some villagers in the recent past."

"Praise the Tsar!" the man exclaimed. "Someone with a medical background!"

The man ran to one of the cabinets and tossed a doctor's bag at Six. He started pointing at a trio of patients.

"Take these supplies and tend to the patients in that corner over there!"

The man ran off before Six could inquire any further. He looked back at the ladies, the one in black shrugging. Six sighed and walked over to the beds. On the bright side, there were some clipboards with notes attached. Even a semblance of medical records. On the downside, most of it was in Ursus. He spent the next twenty minutes decoding all of it, but he thought he got a decent translation down.

The injuries these fellows suffered from were similar to the people he treated back in Da Vinci. He wouldn't be surprised if the cause were the exact same too. He took out his latest book and propped it on the table, opening up a page showcasing his first patient's race.

The person in question was a fellow called Demyan Sobol. According to his bio, he was an Anaty. Those fellows had elements of pre-war musteloids, right? As far as Six was aware, most of America's population died out in the Great War. The patient's right arm had been shattered during a hunting trip with some friends. Coincidentally, his group was the ones that found and brought Ihor back to the center. He was given anesthesia after that and has been resting since then.

Six snapped his fingers, making sure that the Anaty wasn't awake yet. Perfect. He started by cutting open the arm and inspecting the bone. It had been splintered into several pieces. A glance back at the book revealed the skeletal structure to more or less resemble the average human's. Rearranging them wasn't that hard, he just needed to glue them back together with a stimpak. The contents of the device also closed the wound up for the Courier, negating the need for stitches.

The next patient was an Ursus named Oleksandr Bondarenko; he had his shoulder dislocated. From what the notes he translated told him, he displaced it while hunting. Probably from a scuffle with the local wildlife. The knives in the doctor's bag weren't going to cut it, though. From what he read about their physiology, they were among the most durable of Terra's races. He wouldn't be surprised if his Endurance was in the teens. He drew out Chance's Knife. That might cut it, pun aside.

Carefully Six sliced through skin and muscle to get to the bone. Realigning it was a simple matter. Stitching it back up was more difficult than he anticipated. He was tempted to use another stimpak, but he didn't know if this world had the chemical components needed to produce more. It took a few tries, but he finally found a needle capable of piercing and stitching the big bear back up.

The last patient was Myron Holub. He was a Liberi, judging from all of the feathers. Two things caught his attention. First of all his arms had a higher concentration of feathers than the rest of his body. Second, his hands were practically non-existent. According to his profile, he was hit with a grenade by an Ursus soldier. Guess it's safe to say that the Empire doesn't like scavs.

It took a couple of minutes to carefully remove the shrapnel, but he succeeded. Strangely, he had some shards of black glass on him too. Six saved some of them for further study. If that was what he thinks it is, then he'll need more than stitches. Once he was certain his patient wouldn't bleed out, he looked back at the feline.

"Hey Doc!" he called out.

The catman raised an eyebrow as he turned. "That quick?" he replied with a chuckle. "You really do have experience after all. Can't pay you right now, though. Sorry."

"I've got a couple of questions, actually," Six said as he pointed at the arms.

"Ah, I guess you've never seen Liberi's wings before?"

Six shook his head.

"Huh. Well, some Liberi can grow wings in some manner or another. Some grow them outta back or hips, some turn arms into wings. Some are born with little wings attached to their scalps. Is as natural as breathing to them."

"Looks like they're stuck in limbo, though."

"I imagine that his injuries have something to do with that. He may have reflexively altered them from all the pain. That can happen on occasion. Was that the other question you had in mind?"

"You wouldn't happen to have a book on Oripathy, would you? 'Cus the ones I got don't have any mention of it at all."

"Oripathy? You're not Infected are you?"

"Me? No. Him…"

Six showed him one of the obsidian shards. "Vot der'mo…" he muttered. "This managed to penetrate his skin?"

The man walked over to his bed and wrote something on his board. "Another poor sod afflicted with the world's greed," he said somberly. "I'll add him to the list when I get the chance. We should still have some anti-oripathics in reserve. Thanks for your help, by the way. Wish I could offer payment, but I'm strapped for cash at the moment."

"What about books on Oripathy? 'Cus my guide's got it and that information mi-"

Something clattered in the tent. Several things, actually. The men spun to see the woman in white buried under a medical cabinet. They ran over to her aid, digging her out and helping her onto her feet.

"You alright, devushka?" the man asked. "Nothing broken?"

The girl nodded. "I was looking for some anti-oripathics," she explained softly. "But my legs decided to fall asleep when I opened the door."

The Feline knelt down and lifted the shelf back up, then began replacing and reorganizing its contents. The lady initially leaned against her staff for support, but lost her strength and nearly fell again. Six was quick enough to catch her, though, and propped her against his shoulder.

"This better?" Six asked.

She nodded. "Thank you," she said softly.

She glanced down at his PIPBoy. "You were here this morning, were you not?" she asked.

Six cursed under his breath.

"Why did you change your attire?" she asked.

"Went out hunting," Six claimed. "Needed something in camo."

"What do you mean by 'hunting'? Wildlife or…"

"Primarily wildlife, but we did run into a wanted Raider."

"...I see."

"What did you mean by your body refusing to cooperate? Is it just a loss of strength, or something else?"

"Nerve damage. I inhaled an originium-based toxin and it ravaged the nervous system in my lower extremities. Memories too."

"Damn..."

"What about you? How good is your memory?"

"Why do you ask?"

She pointed at the scars on his forehead. He wanted to slap himself.

"Oh… well, to put it lightly, my brain did a soft reboot after I was patched back up. I can remember everything after walking out of the doctor's office, but before that…"

Hands and feet tied up. Mouth gagged. The taste of iron in his mouth. Three men and a gun barrel were staring down at him. His eyes burned with fury. Then everything ended with a loud 'crack'!

Six snarled "Just the bastards that took everything from me," he said. "Already caught up to them ages ago."

"But it didn't solve anything, did it?"

"..."

"I'm Liz. What's your name?"

"Can't remember. But you can call me 'Theuses'. You're with that woman in black, aren't you?"

She nodded. "That's Shining."

Six snickered. The girl tilted her head.

"That can't be her real name," Six said.

"It's not," Liz confirmed. "But she'd rather not share it with strangers."

I can relate. Six thought to himself. "So what brings you two to town then?"

"To help every Infected soul we can. Most of Terra turns its back on those suffering from Oripathy, so it falls to people like us to reach out."

"And it's just you two?"

Liz nodded. "What about you?"

"Some personal business out east. Just stopping here to rest our legs."

"And your friend?"

Someone made an audible 'ahem' behind them. The two turned to see the Feline with a couple of items on his person. A bottle of medicine, and a book.

"Did you need this, young lady, or one of your patients?" he asked.

The woman pointed at another Ursus on a slab. The man nodded and motioned for them to follow. Six walked the girl over to her patient and watched the man pop a pill into the patient's mouth. The Ursus' smile was all the gratitude they needed. The woman hobbled over to a chair nearby while the Feline handed Six his book.

"Hope this provides a good read," he said.

"Hey, knowledge is power," Six replied. "That's always a good read in my book."

The Feline let out a short laugh. "You take care now, okay?" he said.

Six nodded as the man resumed his work. He tipped an invisible hat to Liz and turned to leave the tent. Just as he got near it, someone gently shoved their way past him. It was that knight. He raised an eyebrow and watched as the horse-mutant walked over to the Sarkaz ladies. She knew them?

Six shook his head and walked out. Lyudmila was leaning against a building not far from his position. ED-E floated beside her, chirping in excitement as its optical sensors picked up its master.

"Did I keep y'all waiting?" Six teased.

Lyudmila shook her head. "You ready for our bet?" she asked.

"Depends on how full your wallet is."

Lyudmila smirked. "If anyone's paying up, it's the gentleman," she taunted.

The trio walked over to the shooting range. Liz poked her head out and watched them vanish into the distance. A blue bird landed on her finger and chirped at her. A nod was all the permission it needed and it flew off after the trio. Someone started shouting back in the tent.

"Liz!" Shining shouted. "I could use a hand with this one!"

"Coming!" Liz shouted back.

She cast one last glance at the Courier before slipping back inside.

---

Date: October 2nd, 1099

Location: Rhodes Island

Time: Around 10 PM

The Control Center. Some call it the beating heart of Rhodes Islands. Others its brain. Regardless of what people call it, its function was clear. This was where some of the biggest discussions were held. Where Rhodes Island's fate was charted on a daily basis. Where strategies are formed. And right now there was a meeting regarding a certain mailman.

Kal'tsit, Closure and Amiya were the ones heading the meeting, naturally. On the other side of the table was Foxfire Squad. Nian would've been present, but radiation poisoning kept her in bed. Seeing as that she was a fragment of a literal god, nobody expected her to stay down for long. Looming over them all was Shirayuki, the shadow and shield of Princess Fumizuki.

Exusiai and Croissant voiced concerns about bringing the ninja into this conversation, but seeing as that Lungmen was her master's turf, Amita felt it was necessary to rope her along. And besides, she's no stranger when it comes to spywork. She probably would've found out anyway.

The ninja eyed the holographic footage of the Courier and his sidekick. She had to admit, she never encountered anyone like them before. It would be interesting to see him and his alien technology in action… were it not for the complications that would follow suit. Her lady already painted a target on her back when she married Wei Yenwu. The idea of their enemies wielding the Courier's arsenal sent shivers down her spine.

Everybody was reviewing footage taken from Da Vinci, along with a couple of audio logs. One from Liskarm, and one from an employee of Penguin Logistics. He uncovered some files within the Courier's Pipboy. Pieces of an audiobook from a so-called Storyteller, regarding his homeland. Much of their content aligned with the raider's testimonies. The information they both provided… disturbed many of the room's occupants, to say the least. Hell, Kal'tsit of all people seemed aghast by the revelations.

"How's Emperor?" Amiya asked Croissant.

"Grouchy," the Forte replied. "From what Texas tells us, he hasn't slept for the past three days. He's got all hands on deck from Siracusa to the Far East. Still no sign of our buddy and his sidekick."

"We've still got a lot of ground to cover," Amiya reminded her. "There aren't many settlements and working radio towers out in the wastes either. Not to mention that Mr. Six already has a history with Penguin Logistics. That's why we need Mr. Yenwu's help."

"But we can't let the Yanese authorities catch wind of this either," Kal'tsit reminded everyone. "The Chief Executive's already kowtowed to them once in the past. Can we really trust him?"

"From what Ms. Shirayuki tells me, Miss. Fumizuki has given him an earful over his plans. As she reportedly pointed out to him, his actions would have painted a target on everyone he loved. Including herself and Ch'en. That would be the last thing he'd want."

Kal'tsit wasn't entirely convinced. "Even if what you said was true, there's still the risk of someone leaking the information to them. Keeping Leize in the dark on this matter is easy. But the LGD? Or the Shadows? All it takes is one loose set of lips and the whole world comes crashing down on us all."

"Mr. Lin has close ties to the Shadows. And Ms. Swire would be on the lookout for spies. The only thing we should worry about is provoking Mr. Six."

Kal'tsit sighed. "Valid points," she relented. "Alright. We'll proceed with your plan. But we need to have at least one squad available encase droppings hit the proverbial fan."

Amiya frowned. "True," she said. "But it will have to consist of those with restraint. Someone like Rosomontis or the Abyssal Hunters would crush Mr. Six."

Exusiai stretched her arms. "We can worry about that tomorrow, can't we?" she yawned. "We've still got a few days before we arrive anyway."

Amiya nodded. "Then this concludes tonight's meeting. Meet back here in the next twelve hours?"

"Sounds good to me. Night everyone."

Everybody dispersed, heading back to their dorms. All except Suzuran of course. She had her eyes fixated on all the recordings playing on the projector. On all of the Courier's activities in the Diavoli Neri's hideout. She watched him slaughter his way through mafia thugs, splice into a console, and cloak himself with some type of wristwatch.

But the most vivid images lurked in the back of her mind. Of how he butchered the local don. She had pegged him as a survivalist given his behavior in Da Vinci, but after learning about his true origins… how he came from a post-apocalyptic world and conquered a remote region of a radioactive Wasteland… she didn't know what to think of him.

This hadn't escaped Amiya of course. She placed a hand on the younger child's shoulder. "You're worried about him," she noted.

Suzuran nodded. "Our world is nothing like his," she said. "He could be out in the wastes dying, or gagged and bound at-"

She stopped herself. All of that fear and anxiety began crumbling under the weight of Amiya's smile.

"He has experience surviving in such lands," she recalled. "He's not going to fall so easily to our world."

"Not even to Oripathy? Or Catastrophes?"

"I doubt it. From what we know about him, he's resourceful. Stubborn. A wasteland, no matter where you look, is harsh and indifferent. You have to have the right mix of cunning and willpower to survive. And believe me when I say that I speak from personal experience."

A slight smile curled up on the Vulpo's lips.

"He'll make it to Lungmen," Amiya assured her. "And when he arrives we'll welcome him with open arms."

"But will he return the gesture?"

Amiya's smile fell slightly. Suzuran gently removed the hand from her shoulder and walked out of the Control Center. The CEO frowned as she locked the door for tonight. Her mind was plagued with many questions as she walked to her room. Why did Six's people ruin their homeworld so many years ago? What kind of madmen would create a virus that would rapidly mutate a living being? Just what kind of hell did their ancestors produce for their descendants?

She muttered a soft prayer under her breath as she ventured back to her room. For the Courier, for the Doctor, for Rhodes Island… and the people of another Wasteland.

---

Date: October 7th, 1099

Location: Grinkhorn, Southern Ursus Border

Time: 8 PM

Nightfall came as it often did; darkness crawling onto the horizon. For some, it was time to sleep. For others, it was the time to hunt. And right now two souls, (well, maybe three if you count the robot), it was the latter.

Lyudmila grumbled on the way to their target. How the hell could she lose to someone that couldn't draw a bow the other day? He claimed to have a little bit of experience beforehand, but still…

She shook her head. They had a job to do. Well, maybe her companion considered this a job. Her? It was a bit personal.

She had heard horror stories of Ingra's atrocities from many Infected. People like him are why Reunion was founded in the first place. She may have joined the militia for personal reasons, but even she considered Ingra to be scum. His karma warrant had just expired. And they were the reaper's shroud.

Six had switched out to his 'Elite Riot Gear' for the change in skylight. No point in wearing camo if the night was already providing it. They had been staking out Ingra's base of operations for the past hour, memorizing patrol patterns, trying to eavesdrop, and more or less passing the time until nightfall. As usual, he didn't understand a damn word the locals were saying. It sounded like… Polish? Wasn't Poland part of the European Commonwealth?

Most of the 'knights' were seemingly washed-out indies. These either carried a shield, sword or crossbow. There were even some drunken brutes nodding off in whatever shade they could find. Six stifled a laugh as he gazed down at them from their current position.

"The Brotherhood would make mincemeat outta those pretenders," he mumbled.

She raised an eyebrow at the Courier's comment. He scratched his neck.

"Brotherhood of Steel," he explained softly."A band of technophiles out west."

"Never heard of them," Lyudmila whispered back.

"Of course you wouldn't. They're xenophobic as hell. You're not gonna find their knights or paladins at the Major or any other social gathering."

The badgeless grunts overall didn't worry them that much. What did were the ones with tarnished banners. Lyudmila recognized the branding on their armor. Many of them were Bloodboil rejects like Ingra, carrying similar attire and weapons. There appeared to be some devices strapped onto them too. Were those heart monitors? Now that they thought about it, most of the grunts had some similar devices on them too.

Lyudmila also noticed some bowmen from the previous Major. Those were the Roar Guard, weren't they? Didn't their champion get poisoned or something? Guess their club disbanded after his death. If she recalled correctly, they carried experimental energy shields. Something told her boy-genius would be dying to study them.

And then there were the Bladehelms. Apparently, their arts could siphon their enemies' strength, and they carried some type of stimulant for emergencies. All that was left were the Gloompincers. Amphibious arachnids of Kazimierz often raised as tools for training knights and the occasional pit fights. Six asked if they carried any toxins in their bodies, but Lyudmila shook her head. Six let out a soft sigh of relief.

He personally wasn't worried about the Roar crossbowmen. Just kill 'em before they can activate their shields, and if they do just wait for 'em to burn out. Bladehelms on the other hand did. If their Arts really can drain his Strength, wielding heavy weapons would be out of the question. He could probably counter it with Psycho or Buffout, but he didn't want to risk addiction and the subsequent withdrawal effects. The Bloodboils are probably monitoring their goon's vitals too. If they flatline, they'll know something's up.

"So what's the plan?" she asked.

"Take out their lights," Six whispered back. "You slip through the dark and cut down the indies while ED-E and I draw the snipers' fire. Once they're down, we go after the Bladehelms and Bloodboils. Save Ingra for last, though, okay?"

Lyudmila nodded and ran off to the opposite side of the field. Six drew out Scout's Rifle as he knelt down, a crimson hue consuming the world. He tapped into his helmet's radio.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Ready," radioed Lyudmila.

ED-E emitted some acknowledging beeps over his comms. Six fired the first shot. Knives, lasers, and ball bearings soared through the darkness and into the lights. One by one the bulbs exploded into glass shards and sparks, raining down on the knights. They howled and shouted, alerting their comrades. Some of them took out flares, throwing them at their drunkard buddies. As soon as they awoke they let out berserk howls, rampaging across the ruins.

The Roar archers were the first to react, bringing up their shields. Six and ED-E strafed around the base, drawing their agro with suppressive fire. The eyebot's lasers weren't inconspicuous though. There were already knights moving toward his position. Six swapped out Scout's Rifle for Christine's and provided covering fire for his buddy. The goons quickly found themselves caught between a rock and a hard place.

A Bloodboil was leading a pack of knights toward his position now. Six ceased fire and ran from his hiding spot. He left the enemy a small gift as he departed; some breadcrumbs and C4. He waited for them to bunch up while they searched the area. Then the Bloodboil joined in, he detonated the charges. Every goon in range was greeted with a faceful of splinters and shrapnel.

Someone stomped out of a concrete building. It was another member of Bloodboil, though this one was clad in jet-black armor. His eyes were assaying the situation behind mucus-yellow lens, while his hand held an ebony ax. Said weapon and his armor were both caked in faint brown stains.

He barked something in Kazimierzian, probably 'WTF is going on' if Six were to guess. He slammed a fist into a nearby button and Six watched several cages open up. A swarm of Gloompincers scuttled onto the battlefield, burrowing under the earth. Several new markers popped up on Six's motion tracker. He snarled as he switched to his Riot Shotgun, backing up as several of the arachnids burst onto the surface.

His shells ripped through their exoskeletons like a hot knife through butter. A couple of them got lucky, managing to dogpile him. They snipped and chopped away at him with their pincers and mandibles, but his armor held up. He took out Bloodnip and stabbed one in the abdomen, slicing its stomach open. He shoved the other one onto its back and repeated the process.

Some Bloodboils closed in on his position, glowing with a faint blood-red. They moved fast, faster than any Raider with that much armor back on Earth. Six barely had time to prime a grenade before he sidestepped and ducked under a couple of swings. The shrapnel hardly scratched their armor. Plasma, on the other hand, did. He cooked a couple of them alive with his Defender, smiling as they died screaming.

Several bolts flew past the Courier. Some of them collided with his armor, but thankfully neither penetrated it. He wasn't going to wait around for that to happen, though. He moved to cover and traced the arrow's trajectory to theirs. He primed a grenade and threw it over toward them. They managed to shoot it before it got anywhere near them, but he compensated with Thump-Thump. Their buddies were gonna have to glue them back together once their souls reached hell.

Someone managed to slash across his back. Six snarled and spun around to receive another one from one of the Bladehelms. He backpedaled and emptied the Microfusion cell in his Plasma Defender while the mutant swung at him. To his surprise, the globs just splashed off of his armor. IT didn't appear to be eating through it like it did with the smaller mooks.

Six swapped back to his shotgun when they started waving their spear around like a wand. A purple glow fell upon the Courier, followed by an invisible weight. His limbs felt heavier and his carry weight was halved. Thankfully it wasn't enough to encumber Six, but it did make it more difficult to wield his shotgun.

He fell back onto A Light Shining in Darkness. The .45 pistol-plus armor-piercing rounds - proved to be much more effective. He managed to Cripple his sword arm and leg and was ready to execute him while he was on his knee.

But then an orange light enveloped the mutant. Six shielded his eyes as he backed away. Suddenly his HUD was picking up a surge in the Helm's Health Points. To the Courier's shock, he rose back onto his feet and hoisted his spear in the air. Six toggled VATS as the bastard let out a roar and noticed that all of his limbs had been healed. He groaned.

The knight kept his distance, stabbing and swinging away with his spear. That suited Six just fine. He tossed a Plasma Grenade at the brute and watched as the green goop seeped through the openings in his armor. His screams were cut short as he was boiled alive. Six let himself take a deep breath as the invisible weight faded.

Then one of those drunken assholes grabbed and threw him into the camp. He landed near a flare, exposing himself to more of his kin. They all charged at him, but he managed to roll out of harm's way as their blades came crashing down. He also left them a little present; a landmine.

At least two of them lost their hands in the explosion. The rest just shrugged it off. That changed when ED-E charged in and opened fire on them with his Tesla cannon. Six threw in some bolts from his Plasma Defender. That put them out of their misery.

There was a savage battle cry closing in on them. Six turned just in time to roll under the swing of an ax. It was hard to make out in the dark, but he could see a hulking shape with glowing yellow lens. It was Ingra, and he was screeching something at the top of his lungs.

"Could you repeat that?" Six taunted. "I seemed to have skipped Polish class."

The man's head snapped toward his direction, but he had already moved to another position.

"The hell is Polish?!" he asked with an obvious accent.

"You just answered your own question," Six shouted back from the shadows.

Ingra pounced towards his position but once again Six was on the move.

"SHOW YOURSELF!" he bellowed.

He had to admit, this asshole was pretty quick for someone his size. He'd give Lily a run for her money. It'd be wise to Cripple him first before he gets another chance. Six toggled VATS and targeted one of his legs. The bastard howled as he collapsed onto the earth. Six smirked.

ED-E was flung past his head, missing it by an inch. Six turned around to find himself face-to-face with a Wanderer. Six blocked all of his slashes with the marksman carbine, but it was thrown out of his hands at the last one. He backpedaled and took out the MF Hyperbreeder Alpha, zapping away at his leg to hobble him. A carefully placed shot boiled his face beneath his helmet. Six let him fall to the ground, screaming in agony. A .45 bullet put him out of his misery.

Some indies tried to jump on him, but he was quick enough to evade their blows. Some of them also tried the same tactic with Lyudmila, but all that did was expose their back to her. Each one received a stab in the neck, causing them to drown in their own blood. One of Six's assailants got a chest cavity full of plasma. The other got both knee-caps and his cranium blown to bits with shotgun shells. One more tried to hack him up, but Six parried his Uberhau with his Ripper. The knight's hand was the first thing to go flying. His head went next.

Someone rammed into Six while he was reloading, dragging him across the earth. It was Ingra. Somehow he was flying across the battlefield. From what little Six could make out, there was a flash underneath his boots. Jets maybe? They crashed through some crates, freeing him from his iron grip. But he didn't come out of that unscratched. Six snarled as his shoulders flared up. He tried firing his pistol at the mutant, but he dodged each bullet with ease.

He knocked the weapon aside and began slamming him against an old APC (probably this world's version of the MT-LB). Six's ribs and skull buckled with each collision. Six drew out Chance's Knife and went for his captor's fingers, but he caught his arm before he could sever them. For his effort, he Crippled it.

Six gritted his teeth as he suppressed a scream. Ingra then threw him to the ground and stomped his boot on his back. He reached down and crushed the bone in his leg as payback, but Six denied him the pleasure of screaming once again. The Courier drew out his MF Hyperbreeder Alpha with his other hand and fired away, but the mutant yanked and threw it over his shoulder.

He slammed the Courier's face into the mud, kneeling down as he hovered his ax over the Courier's neck. Six clawed at the bastard's fingers, but he couldn't ease his grip on him. Lasers collided with the giant before he could consider an execution. He growled as he rose back up, looking to see ED-E firing from some trees. His response was to grab and throw Six at the eyebot, stunning them both. He would've blasted off toward them, but someone else managed to grab his attention.

Everybody was in for surprise when bullets joined the fray. Six and Ingra turned their heads to see Lyudmila firing A Light Shining in Darkness at the brute. From her pained expression and drooping ears, she was struggling to block out the weapon's noise. She kept firing until the magazine ran dry. She glanced down at the weapon in confusion.

Ingra rocketed towards the Lupo while she fiddled with the small arm. She noticed him just in time to adjust her density, causing him to fly through her and into one of the concrete buildings. He tore through the wall and was buried under rubble for his efforts.

While the bastard was seeing stars, Six reclaimed his Recharger Pistol and Graham's legacy. He offered a curt 'thanks' to the girl as he reloaded his firearm with P+ rounds. He brought up VATS again, this time aiming for his remaining limbs. The man howled as his appendages were stuffed with bullets. He tried to rocket toward the heroes again, but in his condition, he ended up crashing into and flipping the truck over.

Six injected some Hydra into himself as he limped over to the crash site. He glanced down to see Ingra pinned under the rusted old vehicle, helmet ruined. From what little he could tell, he appeared to be one of those horse mutants. Six had A Light Shining In Darkness aimed at his exposed cranium, staring down into his eyes. He could sense the anger- hatred- behind his broken lens.

ED-E and Lyudmila ran over to the Courier.

"Status," Six said to ED-E.

The eyebot gave him some expository beeps.

"Any other survivors?" Six asked Lyudmila.

She shook her head. "No prisoners, either," she added. "If there were any, they've probably been auctioned off by now."

Six snarled."Search the area," he said. "See if you can dig up anything. Maps, documents, audio logs. I'm gonna have a little chat with Mr. Chariot here. ED-E, be ready to vaporize him if he tries anything funny."

ED-E emitted some acknowledging beeps. Lyudmila passed glances between them and the Kuranta before walking off. Six walked over behind the brute and removed his boots. Can't have him flying off again. He set them aside as he returned to face Ingra. Six got onto a knee, switching out his .45 pistol for the Plasma Defender.

"So… Ingra, ain't it?" Six asked.

The Kutanta just grunted.

"Is that a yes or a no?"

"Yes…"

Six smirked at the hiss. "Alright then. My friend says you're some big hotshot from Kazimierz. What's a guy like you doing so far away from home?"

"Work."

"Such as?"

"Recruitment."

"The willing kind?"

The man let out a short laugh.

"Slavery then."

"I prefer 'indentured servitude'."

Six scowled behind his gas mask. He aimed his Plasma Defender at one of Ingra's hands and melted it. The man screamed as green sludge ate away at his fist. When he stopped writhing in pain, he shot daggers at the Courier.

"Where are you sending them?"

"Why should I tell you?" he snarled.

"[Barter 50] Because there's a bounty on your head, dumbass. And I'm willing to bet that the Ursus would pay handsomely for the man abducting their citizens. Your buddies, though? There's no record on them. No bounties. They technically get to get off scot-free "

Sx let the words linger in the air for a bit continuing. "Are you really gonna let your pals waltz away from this? Wouldn't you like to take them down with you?"

The man burst into laughter. "Citizens? They don't give a damn about the Infected. Let alone any scavengers out in the wilds. They aren't gonna come rescue their rocky asses. And even if they cared, so what if my buddies getaway? As long as I get to contribute to more of those Infected bastards' suffering, then I'll die a happy man!"

Six's brows furrowed for a moment. Then an idea clicked in his head. First, he unstrapped the gauntlet that once shielded his ruined hand and tore off the sleeve. Then he drew out a vial of blood from his pocket. Blood with black particles in it.

"The hell is that supposed to be?"

"A blood sample from my partner," he said with a smirk. "She's Infected."

"What? You rub elbows with Infected? Are you crazy or stupid!?"

"I'm a Wastelander, pal. Living dangerously is a bit of a requirement back home. We're not afraid of some magic rock cancer like you 'civilized folk'. Hell, I never even heard of Oripathy until recently. I'm kinda curious as to what the first stage looks like."

He took out an empty needle and drew out some of the blackened fluid, giving the former a couple of good taps for dramatic measure. He could see the fear in Ingra's eyes.

"You wouldn't…"

"I'm a bit of a mad scientist these days. Of course, I'm serious. I'm genuinely curious as to why people like you enjoy torturing biohazards of your own design. Why you moths fly so close to the flame. Perhaps a small donation will provide me with some answers?"

The man locked up. Six knelt down and grabbed his scorched arm, slowly bringing the needle over…

"OKAY OKAY! I'LL TALK! I'LL TALK!" Ingra pleaded. "Just don't turn me into one of those damn rockheads!"

"Then speak quickly," Six instructed him. "Where are you sending them?"

"To some old mansion nearby. There's an old Leithanien fogey conducting experiments there. He pays us for test subjects. Double for Infected ones."

"Where can I find it?"

"West. Straight path from here. He likes to run a fog machine at this time of night. If you start seeing mists, you're already there."

"What about security? What kinda opposition should I expect?"

"Besides mercs and fellow Casters? Saw this colossus once. Think it's modeled after Sarkaz witchcraft. But that's all I know."

Six emptied Lyudmila's blood back into its container and discarded the needle. The man let out a sigh of relief. Six added Ingra's jet boots into his inventory and took out his Ripper.

"You… you are gonna get me out from under here, right?"

"In a manner of speaking. Just a few more questions, though. Do you know anything about a drive-in theater on the western coast? Or a crashed satellite? Pluto's Mines?"

The brute tilted his head in confusion before shaking it. Six sighed as revved up his miniature chainsaw and brought it down on his neck.

Whatever screams escaped from his lips were short-lived. Six then tore off some of his clothing and wrapped the shreds around his severed head. Six and ED-E walked around and found Lyudmila holding a scroll in her hands.

"Find anything?" Six called out.

She turned to face him. "Think so," she replied. "Take a look at this."

She handed the roll of paper to him. It was a rough map of the boreal forest. The layout had more or less matched up with what they had seen for the past few hours; Grinkhorn, Rouilleton, the river, and Needlefly hive. But the thing that caught his eye was something to the west labeled 'Biovin Manor'. There was an exclamation point beside the name, its dot replaced with a skull.

"Did you get anything out of that bastard?" she asked.

"Yeah," Six confirmed. "They're selling folk to some wizard in an old mansion out west. Probably the Manor mentioned here."

"And what about Ingra himself? Are we taking him alive or…?"

"Cold. Got his ugly mug in a bag. Ready to head out?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Let's go."

The trio marched out of the ruins and towards the western woodlands. They crept through the dark, careful not to alert any potential patrol or predator to their presence. The first few minutes were agonizingly slow and rather mundane. Nothing but the howls of wolves or birds chirping.

Then a fog surrounded and enveloped them. Six passed a look at Lyudmila. She shook her head. This wasn't her handiwork. Six tried to toggle VATS, but he couldn't get the program to run. ED-E emitted some agitated beeps.

Then things started to get creepy. Six's motion tracker picked up movement. He could hear the crunch of twigs and something scampering about. Then his ears picked up… music?

There was a tall shape up ahead. No, two shapes. One was thin and tall, another was small and round. The latter appeared to be riding on top of the former. He could hear a chime or bell in the distance, like one of those pre-war bicycles. More music began to play. A guitar, an accordion, a piano, even a choir.

Something compelled Lyudmila to walk toward the noise.

"Mila?" Six asked. Where are you going?"

She didn't seem to hear him. Instead, she shambled towards the mist. Six and ED-E ran after her, trying not to lose her. The music grew louder with each step they took. He could feel something trying to worm its way into the back of his skull. Something… enchanting.

Come and see… beckoned a voice.

Six shook it off. But his head was pounding like hell, though. There was an annoying buzz in his ears now too. White noise. The gray mists withdrew from sight like a curtain, and the trio beheld a spectacle.

There, amidst a dead ranch, was a crumbling manor. And up ahead was the culprit. A small child on a circus bike, one resembling something from the 1800s. They were dressed in blue garbs and a white mask. They were playing the accordion. But something about them seemed… off. Their movements were stiff.

Before Six could react, ED-E opened fire on the child. The bike melted before the Courier's eyes, the little one torching up from the sheer heat.

"ED-E!" Six called out. "What the fu-"

He stopped as he took a closer look at the torched remains of 'child'. There were wires and gears sticking out of their body. He could smell burnt wood and smelted copper, with hints of iron. He also noticed a massive backpack with a windup key attached to it.

This wasn't a kid. It was a mechanical marionette. A robot.

Lyudmila shook her head and looked around in bewilderment. "Wh-Chto za chert!? What's going on?"

"You alright?" Six asked.

"I- I don't know," she confessed. "I remember walking in the woods, and then…"

"The music?"

She nodded curtly. She glanced past something behind Six and froze up. Six was about to ask what was wrong when his tracker picked up movement again. He heard something crumbling behind him as he turned around…

…and was pushed over by Lyudmila.

"Look out!" she shouted as she pounced.

Both of them rolled across the brown grass as something slammed into their previous position. When they rose back onto their feet, they were in for a shock. There, standing before them, was a massive golem with purple veins. Lyudmila was taken aback by the sight.

"That's…" she said in disbelief. "That's one of- that's impossible…"

"Mila?"

Lyudmila cupped her hands around her mouth. "Mudrock!" she shouted into the fog. "What the hell is the meaning of this!?"

Six's eyebrows arched up some. Mudrock? Where had he heard that name bef-

The golem stepped back towards the manor entrance, blocking the doors. Several shadows appeared behind the gray curtains. Rather than attack, they started singing. Some of the lyrics - or rather the language they were in- seemed familiar to the Courier. It sounded like French.

A deranged howl echoed from the mists. Several men in tarnished dress coats charged at them. Six pelted one with several bullets from his .45 pistol, but he hardly seemed to register them. He brought a dress cane down on him, breaking his poise. He capped the loon's kneecap, toppling him long enough for Six to blow his brains out.

Another came after him, but he turned to dust under ED-E's watchful gaze. Two more tackled him to the ground from behind, though. One of them pounded away while the other ran off with his pistol. Six got out his Ripper and sliced off the remaining bastard's leg, then an arm. Like his last kill, he seemed too berserk to even notice this.

There was something off about his eyes. There were bags under them, and the pupils were dilated. Was he drugged? Were they all drugged?

Six looked back at Lyudmila. She was struggling against one of the men in navy coats. She seemed sluggish and disoriented. He ran over to her side and tackled one of her assailants to the ground, driving his ripper into their chest. ED-E vaporized another one as their guide sidestepped and backstabbed another one.

"You okay?" Six asked.

There was a small stream of blood coming down her face. "I'm fine," she assured him. "Just… tired I guess."

Another goon in 1800's attire charged at him. Six ducked under and flipped him over his shoulder. The Courier took out his Plasma Defender, melting the mook. Another one bonked him on the head, but he fared no better. Then a bolt of black energy collided with him. He felt… off for some reason. He rolled under another blast and fired in the direction it came from. He didn't think the plasma hit anything. ED-E did, judging from an explosion of light just now.

An emerald bolt finally hit one of the shadowy figures. But the sound they made as the burning goop ate away at them… it hardly sounded human. The best way Six could describe it was as a banshee's screech. And there was a sudden flash of red while they were screaming their head off.

That glow reached out towards the cane clubbers. Six didn't think they could be any more berserk, but here he was, proven wrong. Two of them lashed, battering him with their blunt tools. One of them managed to knock his Plasma Defender out of his hands, forcing him to fall back onto his shotgun. He obliterated the bastards for their crime, but one of their buddies yoinked it while he was distracted.

The men in coats fled back into the fog. Soon afterward the shadows began bombarding the heroes with a hailstorm of Arts. Both of them kicked their gear into overdrive, trying to find cover. They initially hid behind some hedges, but the bolts ripped right through the shrubbery. Six took out the All-American and tried to lay out suppressive fire.

And then a goddamned ball of mud flew right into them. The heroes found themselves buried under its muck. Lyudmila managed to phase her way out, but she came under fire from the unseen Casters. She went down in a dazed heap, barely able to lift her head. Six was digging himself and ED-E out when a similar fate fell upon the other human. The Eyebot, by comparison, didn't actually seem to be affected by the vampiric power

For a brief moment, the eyebot made one last stand, protecting its user from any grunt that try to get near them. Then a boulder collided with it, throwing it into the mists.

"ED-E!" Six shouted.

[Strength ⅕] The Courier crawled after him, but he didn't get too far. Not when he was sapped of his strength. The humans were each being dragged away by a grunt in navy clothes. The fog dissipated to reveal a circle of scarlet figures surrounding them. Some of them were eyeing Six with sinister smiles. Others sneered at Lyudmila.

One of them procured a music box and started it up. It sounded like… a lullaby? Then the choir started singing again. The heroes' yawned as their eyelids grew heavy. They both fought the urge, but it was no use. Lyudmila was the first to pass out, dragged towards the manor entrance. The golem stepped aside and let the grunt through. They vanished behind the giant doors.

Now the darkness swirled and danced around his vision. His body and senses were starting to go numb now. He heard something chirping to his left. It took all of his remaining strength to tilt his head some. He couldn't make it out, but there was something blue floating about. Something small. Whatever it was, it darted off into the mists. Towards where ED-E was thrown earlier.

ED-E… Six thought.

He reached out for his friend one last time. Then he too lost consciousness.

Notes:

Well. That took longer than I anticipated. Sorry about that folks. Finally got hit by a certain New Plague, but don't worry. SCIENCE prevailed in the end. Though admirably, that was only part of the reason for the delay. The rest was writer's block and a hint of perfectionism. I'm still not entirely happy with this chapter, but I've delayed it long enough. Maybe I'll edit and update it later, but for now, it's best to get it out of the oven before it gets burnt any further.

So first a bit of news. For those of you that don't know, I imported this story onto Archive of Our Own while I was down with the sickness. If you like that site's format, you can follow the story there too.

So on the main hero's side of things, the meatbags have gotten some new additions to their wardrobes. Six's is based on the Fallout 4 Stalker outfit-mod by nevermind43. while Crownslayer's draws more from sportswear like Adidas. Probably not the most durable of attires, but good enough for blending in.

Some of you might also be wondering about the alias he chose. Well… it's kinda twofold. Theseus's most infamous opponent is the Minotaur. Vela means 'sail', like a ship. Put those two together and… well, personally I think that the other meaning can apply to RPG characters. Maybe even RPGs in general. But hey. I just like meaningful names.

And then there are the Followers. I'll admit several ideas swirled around in my head regarding them. There was a scene of Nearl giving out the lecture but I cut that out since CS already gave Six one. He would've gotten his ass handed to him. We'll be seeing her in the near(l) future, don't worry. And we'll be seeing more interactions between him and Nightingale too.

And three of Rhodes Island's pillars are aware of the truth now. I've alluded to the Wasteland Codex mod (or at least a Western Coast variation of it) all the way back in Chapter 2. That was gonna crop up again down the line. I was gonna save Six's SPECIAL specs for after he got into Great Lungmen, but seeing that Closure's a master hacker, I figured that she'd uncover that data sooner rather than later.

And yes, Six's Skills are all 100. It's possible to max 'em out with enough Intelligence and planning. Then again, skill and experience are two different things. And seeing as how they stagnated while he was running New Vegas, coupled with being thrown into an alien environment, he's got some catching up and adapting to do.

Next chapter is gonna focus on the Followers and our heroes. Six and Crownslayer face some ghosts from the past, while ED-E makes a daring rescue. What happens when three traveling medics throw themselves into the mix… we'll find out next chapter. Tune in next time for-

Oh dammit. Too many ideas for the title for me to pick. Integrating Strategies (nah, too on the nose)? Theater of Illusion? It's Dark as a Dungeon? Portal to the Past? Midnight in a Madhouse? Mr. Sandman? Hail the Nightmare? Ghost Riders? What do y'all think?

Oh yeah, Happy 25th anniversary, Fallout. *Taps some Nuka Cola against the laptop screen.*

EDIT: Extended the ambush at the end of the chapter. Gave the trio more of a fighting chance. Also did some rewriting with the prior fight too for similar reasons. Might make some minor edits above later down the line, but for now, I'm a bit more satisfied with this chapter. And to the guy that said that I liked watching Six get thrown around, I'll admit that I had some schadenfreude with that. Perhaps next chapter he'll take up the Stonewall perk? It'd certainly give him an advantage in this new environment.

Oh, and I pushed the timeline of the fanfic up, for those of you wondering.

Chapter 14: Courting the Phantom Death

Summary:

Listen to your master and obey their every command
A puppet can never raise a weapon, let alone a hand

Date: October 8th, 1099

Location: Biovin Manor, Southern Ursus Border

Time: 6 AM

Six groaned groggily as he regained consciousness. The first of his senses to reawaken was touch. He could feel a damp atmosphere and cold stone around him. The second to return to him was smell, assailed by the stench of rust and feces. When his ears started working again, they picked up muffled crackles of fire and water dropping from the ceiling.

The last senses to come back were sight and taste. The latter one wasn't registering anything, but his eyes did. Everything was a brown blur at first, but eventually, his brain got a clear image of his surroundings. He appeared to be in a dimly lit cell, maybe even a dungeon. He craned his head with a groan as he scanned for his companions.

Neither of them was in sight. He glanced down at himself and noticed that his gear was missing too. His attire, weapons, chems, lockpicks. All gone. All he had on him were his Pipboy and some dirty old rags. Six brought the device up to confirm all of this. It turned out there was an additional item in his inventory. Some type of co-

He felt something rub against his neck. Or rather, around it. He pressed a hand against his neck to feel a piece of plastic strapped onto him. His eyes widened in horror.

No… he silently prayed. Nononono NOT AGAIN! NO!

Instinct told him just to tear the damn thing off, but he shot that idea down. If this is what he thought it was, it'd detonate. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Panicking will get him nowhere. He was a thinker, not a tenderfoot. He needed intel, a plan.

He still had his Pip-Boy at least. The biometric locks might've failed to keep his abductors out of its inventory, but they at least ensured they couldn't steal the actual device itself. He can still use VATS to analyze and lock onto targets. He still had a motion tracker and internal radio. Speaking of which…

He toggled the radio tab and selected ED-E's beacon. All he got was static. Six cursed under his breath. Either this place was blocking out his signal, or he was out of range. Neither scenario was good. He had no way of knowing if the eyebot was even functional or not. He prayed to the powers that be that he was.

He decided to examine the area around him further. Apart from a yellowed mattress and a bucket, there weren't many items in the cell for him to use. He could try to forge makeshift lockpicks out of the former's springs, but he had nothing to turn the lock with. A few pats on the bed revealed that there weren't any springs anyway.

[Strength 8/10] The bars were somewhat rusted. Six gave them several tugs, but he eventually gave up. He'd probably need to be one of Croissant's people to be able to beak them.

He heard footsteps echoing down the hall. He craned his head to the left to see a stairway at the end. Waltzing down with a crimson candle was an armored figure. It didn't look like one of Ingra's buddies, though. No, this man had glowing wings and a halo on him. This was one of Exusiai's people. A Sankta. The holstered SMGs on each leg further confirmed this.

"Well well well," said the armored Sankta. "Look who's finally awake."

Six glared at the theocrat. "Who are you and where the hell am I?" he snarled.

"Right to the chase, eh? No time for small talk? Pity. And here I thought this shift couldn't be any more boring."

The knight sighed before continuing. "My associates call me Larsson. As for where you are, why you're in a dungeon of course. Or at least the basement. The actual dungeon is still being dug up last I checked."

"What about my companions?" Six asked. "Where are they?"

The knight tilted his head. "Companions?" he asked back. "The only other person with you was some Infected scum, last I heard. She's been enlisted into the local labor force while you were out."

"I had a robot with me. What happened to him?"

"'Him'? Ah… there was chatter about some drone packing serious firepower among the manor's fandom. But from what I hear, it got scrapped by Geiszler's pet."

Six hands couldn't decide if they wanted to ball up into fists or unfurl as claws. As much as he wanted to tear through his bars and captor, he was lucid enough to realize how unrealistic that scenario was. The man's words struck more than a cord, though. A couple of recent memories flickered through his mind. An image of a wanted poster and Ingra's last words.

"[Perception 6] Gieszler?" Six asked. "You mean the Caster from Leithanien?"

The false angel let a tiny 'hmm' slither through his helmet. "I suppose that old warbeast's reputation precedes him," he replied. "Yes, that Gieszler. And I'm sure you're familiar with that pet project of his. Tall, lumbering, made of stone."

Six's eyes narrowed. He made that golem? He faintly recalled some villager in Kazdel mentioning golems, but seeing one up close? It was almost hard to believe that such a thing existed.

"Say, aren't you the man that took down Reese?"

Six crossed his arms. "Maybe?" he coyly replied. "Was he a friend of yours?"

The knight snorted. "As if!" he retorted. "The only good Sarkaz is a dead one. Nah, you did the world a favor getting rid of him. The old goat, though, wasn't so happy. He was hoping to glean some information from him regarding…"

The false angel shuddered and shook his head. "Nevermind. Our men found quite the armament on you," he recounted. "Hell, I'm practically jealous. But they made some… unsettling observations regarding your little brawl with them."

"You call an ambush by drugged lunatics a 'brawl'?" Six snarked.

"They're expendable," Larsson replied. "But that is beside the point."

Sankta marched closer to Six's cell and leaned forward, grabbing the bars and glaring at him. The Courier could sense him baring his fangs behind that helm as he glared at him.

"Witnesses claim that you have a remarkable aptitude toward firearms. More so than many of my fellow Sankta. Yet some of them do not resemble our gunsmiths' handicrafts. Tell me, where did you find those models?"

Six furrowed his brows as he devised a lie to deflect him. Croissant said that Sarkaz and Sankta had a bitter rivalry if he recalled correctly. Some of the former collected the latter's firearms as trophies. He also recalled her saying that the False Angels licensed some of their weapons out to certain companies.

Six feigned a casual shrug. "[Speech 50] I've done some scrounging in the wastelands," he claimed. "Stumbled across some old battlefields where your people and the Sarkaz fought. Salvaged whatever weapons and gear I could. Of course, I couldn't find any actual info on the producers of those weapons. My best guess is that some of them were jury-rigged from various models."

"And where precisely did you learn such trades?" the Sankta replied. "Who taught you how to wield and maintain my people's holy instruments?"

Six resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the other man's zealotry. "[Speech 60] From Blacksteel," he lied. "Duh! Last I checked, your country signed leases out to certain mercenary guilds. I was part of that one before I went my own way."

The fake angel's face warped and contorted before he pulled away from the cell. The man was grumbling something in Latin, but he couldn't make out all of it. What could make out was his irritation. A word also stuck out to the Courier; sacrilegium. He had three guesses as to what that meant.

Larsson shook his head and turned back to the Courier. "What about the energy weapons?" he inquired further. "Where did they come from?"

"[Speech 70] I dunno. Raythean?" Six lied with a shrug. "Blacksteel was signing contracts left and right before I left. It was hard for us grunts to keep track of our CEO's drinking buddies."

The Sankta's eyes narrowed. "And why, praytell, did you leave them?"

"To be honest, I got tired of being cooped up in my workspace. I wanted to see the world, but I've also gotten attached to those rayguns."

"So you stole them from your superiors?"

"I prefer the term 'liberated'," Six replied. "Though finding bullets and compatible batteries in the wilderness is a real pain in the ass. I had to dig up old battlegrounds to maintain a steady supply."

The man snorted. "And that's it?" he retorted. "You just relied on graverobbing to replenish your ammunition? How do I know you didn't steal from any of the living? Or kill them for their gear?"

"You don't," Six admitted. "But what evidence suggests that I put any Sankta down?"

The man fished something out of his pocket. It was the hog's tooth he bought earlier.

"Bought it from a trader," Six countered. "Figured I could use a little more luck by my side."

The Sankta growled before pocketing his prize.

"You said something about a labor force," Six recalled. "What did you mean by that?"

Larsson snorted. "What else but indentured servitude?"

"You mean slav-"

Six yelped as tamed lightning coursed through his body. He almost fell to his knees from the pain, steadying himself against the bars.

"Ah ah ah," the knight taunted. "We don't use that kind of language around these parts. Milady prefers the term 'servant'."

Six snarled as he glared back at the Sankta. "'Milady'?" he asked.

"That's right, Lady Karine. She's the mistress of these grounds. And she doesn't take kindly to intruders waltzing about or butchering our adoring fans and staff. Normally she'd just throw in with the other servants, but you've caught her eye. She's willing to overlook your transgressions and wants to…. Enroll you instead."

"'Enroll' me?"

"You've already proven yourself to be tenacious with those firearms, but she wants to see how you fare without them. She and Gieszler are setting up some trials for you as we speak. If you pass, we'll remove that collar of yours."

Six's hand briefly drifted back up to the slave collar. "And if I flop too many?" he asked.

"Then at the very least, that thing stays on."

The guard unlocked the cell door and drew a couple of items out of his bag. A lime-green apple and a bottle of water to be precise. Larsson tossed them at Six, catching each one in each hand. The Courier scanned the gifts with his Pip-boy for any potential tampering. It detected no poison or chems, so he decided to chow down.

"That's a nifty wristband you got there," Larsson snorted as the Courier ate his breakfast. "Where'd you find it?"

"It was a gift from a good doctor," Six replied. "He figured that I'd need it more than him after a… bushwhack."

"'Bushwhack'?" said the Sankta. "Ah, an ambush. Is that how you got those little scars on your forehead?"

"Perhaps."

The man walked over and brushed his hair aside while he took some more bites. The Courier glared at him as he examined the scars.

"These look like bullet wounds," Larsson noted. "9mm to be exact. Did one of my kin leave these marks?"

"Can't remember," Six lied. "Lost my memories to brain damage."

"Brain damage? Do you take me for a fool?"

"You don't strike me as a jester if that's what you're suggesting," Six snarked back. "Last I checked, certain races had greater Endurance than others."

"And which one are you, if you don't mind me asking."

"Hell if I know," Six lied as he feigned a shrug."I'm just made of sturdy stuff, I guess."

The man raised a finger to argue but he lowered back down a second layer. He just growled as the Courier finished his meal and tossed the trash into the waste bin.

"So… when do we start?"

"Right now," Larsson replied. "Your first trial is a test of wits. Navigate your way through a little maze and you might get a prize."

"Which is…?"

"For you to discover."

Larsson pulled another item out of his pocket. It was a thin piece of rope. Six raised an eyebrow.

"Rope?" the Earthling asked. "Really?"

"Yes really. Milady is many things, but 'stupid' isn't one of them. Now are you gonna offer your hands, or am I gonna have to pin you against the wall?"

Six grumbled as Larsson bound his hands with rope and gave a good couple of tugs. Then he barked for Six to start marching and gave a more forceful tug. Six grunted as he complied.

The grimy basement gave way to dark corridors of brown, red, black, and ash-gray. The architecture here was something ancient textbooks described as 'gothic', if he recalled correctly. The furniture was a bit worn but otherwise free of dust. People in maid dresses and tuxedos were tending to the manor, carrying out all sorts of tasks. Some of them had collars on, tucked into their attire.

The first things to greet them were the cool morning wind and rising sun. Without the fog obstructing everything, he had a better view of his surroundings. The area resembled a plantation farm from the 1800s, with smaller buildings dotting the area. One appeared to be a greenhouse, another was a barn. He could make out a garden further away, though he couldn't ascertain its actual produce.

Birds chirping around them while pickaxes chipped away at stone. Guards hollered and whips cracked in the air, slapping raw flesh. He heard the cries and whimpers beneath the chorus of backbreaking labor. Some were beaten by their armored hands, some kicked by their shiny boots. Six kept his eyes and ears open for a certain red-head.

Eventually, they reached their destination; A hedge maze. All that stood between them was a simple gate. Larsson paralyzed Six again and untied his hands. He swiftly dragged him through the gate and locked it back up, then freed Six from the stasis field. The Courier spun around to face him.

"This gate is a oneway entry," he said. "If you want to escape from there, you'll have to go through the exit on the opposite end. You have one hour to accomplish this before I send in drones to check on you."

"What happens if time runs out?" Six asked.

"That depends on whether or not you survive," replied the Sankta. "Bene vale, iuvenis."

Six turned back to him and smirked. "[Intellgence 8] Non credo fortuna," he boasted.

Larsson did a double-take before grumbling and walking off. Six turned back to face the pathway before him. His first instinct was to grab at the shrubbery and test out its durability. Thorns cut and scraped into his hand as he attempted to manipulate the branches. He'd need a tool or a torch to get through 'em. Grunting in disappointment, he carefully pulled his hand back out and started his journey through the labyrinth.

His Pip-Boy was writing up a map of the maze as he explored it, located under the Local tab. He'd activate VATS on occasion to check for any landmines or grenade traps, but he encountered none so far. What he has encountered were pressure plates, tripwires, and the occasional pitfall. One trap tried to spray him with some type of gas, another tried to skewer him.

Eventually, he reached the end of the maze. Unsurprisingly it was locked. Triple-locked, to be precise. One was gold, another silver, the last bronze. Something told him that he needed to find the right keys for each one. Groaning, Six proceeded to map out the rest of the maze.

His first discovery brought him to the heart of the labyrinth. Before him was a courtyard, with its own fountain, gazebo, garden, seats, and even a pond. Six scoured the area until he spotted something on a table; A rusting twelve-inch pipe wrench. The Courier walked over and examined it. According to his Pip-Boy, a Strength level of 5 was the minimum requirement to effectively wield it. He gave it a few swings before coupling it to his belt. It was hardly the best weapon, but it was his only one for the time being.

Something colorful caught his eye. He ventured over to the gazebo and spied a piñata dangling from its ceiling. It was modeled after a pre-war animal, some distant relative of today's Bighorners. 'Sheep', if his history books were correct. Yet its fur was pink instead of the typically snow-white. And there was something painted on its forehead. A keyhole?

Six toggled VATS to scan for potential traps. Thankfully nothing cropped up. He drew out the pipe wrench and gave the piñata a good wack. It exploded into cotton balls and confetti, dropping several goodies. Among those was a bronze key. Six snatched it up and left the area.

After another minute of searching, he stumbled across another curiosity. There were several white Xs on the ground, with a shovel lying nearby. He snorted as memories of pre-war storybooks crossed his mind. He gave VATS another run, quickly discovering a landmine hidden under one of the Xs. He grabbed the shove and kept his distance from that spot.

He decided to kneel and wipe his hand across another one. Just because his Pip-Boy's targeting system didn't pick up anything in the others didn't mean they were safe. He was proven right when he unearthed a pressure plate. He moved on to the next X and repeated the process. No plate or mine under this one. He rose back up and dug in with his shovel.

There was a snowglobe - no, a music box- at the bottom, with a silver key already inserted into it. Six retrieved the box and tried yanking its key out, but it refused to part ways with it. He didn't want to exert too much force on it, least it'd snap in half. So he gave the key a few twists to see if the box would relinquish it. It eventually did, playing some music and spinning the Feline ballerina inside. A soft melody filled the air around him, soothing him. He shook it off and added it to his Pip-Boy's subspace inventory. He could probably sell this after he makes his great escape.

His search for the third key was riddled with more traps, but they weren't anything to write about. He eventually found himself in a small clearing, dotted by a dozen vintage tables and matching chairs orbiting them. Judging from the blemishes, they've all seen better days. But what stuck out the most to him was the outdoor stage at the far back.

Some of the tables had a mask, each one resembling the face of some type of animal. Birds, bears, foxes, rabbits, etc. He left those be for the time being and went up to the stage for the time being. There were four busts propped up, yet they were all blank slates. Slates with slots in them. There was a speaker and a button attached to each one. Wires were slithering out of their backs and toward a safe.

Six pressed one. The roar of a Yao Gui erupted from it. He pressed another and was greeted with the chirping of birds. He quickly put two and two together and ran to gather up the masks. The Yao Gui and bird masks went on first. A push on the third bust's button produced a series of barks. A dog mask was inserted into that one. The last one mooed at him, prompting him to strap the Brahmin mask on it.

Something clicked behind them. Six peered past them to see the safe opening up. He walked over and bent down, spying the final key inside. He yoinked it and then jaunted back to the entrance. One by one the locks were unfastened and discarded onto the earth. Six opened the gate up-

And froze up as he heard something else click. A grenade rolled out from a hedge and at his feet. He leaped to the side and ducked, covering his head as it detonated. To his surprise, the only thing it produced was paint. Six just stared at the resulting mess before shaking his head and creeping onward. No more traps lay in wait between him and Larsson. Six couldn't read his face with that helmet on, but his posture hardly seemed to indicate surprise on his part. The older man took out a pocket watch from his bag and glanced back at the Courier.

"Twenty minutes," he noted. "And no paint on you either. You seem to be as meticulous as you are swift."

He pasted another glance toward his Pip-Boy. "But then again, navigating the maze must've been the easy part," he drily added.

"It did streamline things a bit," Six admitted. "But all those traps also served as convenient markers too. What's next on the menu?"

"You prize," the knight replied.

The knight handed Six a clipboard. The Courier narrowed his eyes as he read the contents of the papers attached to it. Dishwashing, mopping, farming, cooking, laundry, maintenance.

This was a list of chores. Six's shoulders slumped as he growled.

"Chop to it, lad," said the knight.

---

Six spent the next few hours slaving away in and around the manor. For the outdoors, he tended to the crops, harvested some along with samples from a botanical garden, cleaned out a farm filled with fauna that resembled Pre-war ancestors to the Wasteland's own critters, and fed some hounds.

[Medicine 50] Some of the flora samples he collected resembled those from Earth. Including toxic species such as nightshade. Those came in handy as 'extra seasoning' for the hounds. He wasn't certain if it'd be as effective against them as dogs back on Earth, but he wagered he'd find out soon enough.

After that Larsson left him under the wing of some Feline butler. He apparently had more important business to tend to, so he left the elderly man in charge of overseeing the next set of 'trails'. He had him scrubbed down and groomed before he got him a fresh pair of threads. They looked like a relic of the Victorian Era if his understanding of history was correct. Top hat, cutaway coat, heavy twill vest, white shirt, black trousers, and a tuck tie. It was a snug fit, to his surprise. His captors must've measured him while he was out cold.

Then the Feline put him to work. Scrubbing the walls, changing lightbulbs, mopping the floor, patching up a plethora of torn clothes (some of which appeared to be his gang's handiwork), making beds, table etiquette… and a fair amount of cooking.

Some of it was simple, like porridge, fruit juice, baked beans, or salad. There was at least one pasta dish he was ordered to make. Something with a sweet brown sauce. Six was certain that it was a pre-war treat back home, but he doubted anybody was making it these days.

"Yo, gunslinger!" called out a voice.

Six turned away from the kitchen counter to see another Sankta. This one was unarmored, and his 'wings' had a different pattern than Larsson's. His choice of weapon was also rather strange. Rather than something modern like an SMG, it was a blunderbuss with a bayonet. Even stranger was that the blade resembled an ax head more than an actual bayonet.

"You the hotshot I've been hearing about?" said the false angel.

"Maybe," Six replied. "And who the hell are you supposed to be?"

"Micael. I'm what you might call a Nuncio. Are you survivalists always this rude?"

"Cultists aren't exactly popular back home," Six said as he narrowed his eyes. "[Intellgence 8] And based on your title, I presume that you're an ambassador for your so-called 'church'."

The Sankta rolled his eyes at the insult. "An educated wastelander," he said replied sarcastically. "Though you're a little off-course. I don't officially represent the Pope these days. I and some like-minded fellows have a slightly different worldview than his and Larsson's generation."

"Different how?"

"Let's just say that my old buddies and I prefer a more proactive approach to things. But we aren't all that interested in waging war with the Sarkaz either. Frankly, I don't even know how it all started or why we continue fighting them."

"'Old buddies'? You're not with your gang anymore?"

"Nope. Our messiah had a… vision of sorts a few months ago. He saw something that shook him to his core. And it drove a wedge into our circle so to speak. I left and ran into Larsson out here. He introduced me to this flock shortly afterward."

"And what exactly do you do around here?"

The man drew out his blunderbuss. "Gaurd duty, mostly," he said before giving his longarm a flashy spin. "But I also dish out justice where I can."

Six snorted. "You call running a 'servant' camp justice?" he retorted.

The Sankta sneered at him. "...some people just need purpose," he replied. "And The Law provides that and more."

Micael shook his masked head. "We're getting sidetracked," he continued. "Gieszler's supposed to be overseeing this trail, but he wants me to determine if you're worth his time or not. He's a busy man."

Micael procured something from his bag and handed it to the Courier. Six narrowed his eyes.

"A harmonica?" Six asked incredulously. "Really?"

"Of course," Micael replied. "The Mistress and Mr. Gieszler are both prolific Casters. And their homelands hold the belief that musical aptitude can hone one's dexterity in Arts."

Six still had a skeptical look on his face. "Has that actually been proven?" he asked.

"It's worked out for the Leithanians," Micael said with a shrug. "So I would assume so."

Six took and scanned the harmonica from Micael's hands. His Pip-Boy detected no explosives or toxins on it, so it seemed safe to use. A phantom memory- or rather, instinct- came back to him as he brought it to his face and played some notes. A couple of minutes passed before something disrupted his rhythm. He opened his eyes to see the kitchen staff clapping their hands.

"Well, you seem to have good lungs," the young Sankta commented. "Decent sense of rhythm too. I think you've earned an audience with Gieszler."

A beat passed before the Sankta spoke up again. "What? Got cold feet?"

"You're not gonna restrain me?" Six asked.

"Wha- Oh, right! You started the day off with the old relic. Of course not, silly! Larsson might be wary of you, but I ain't."

"Why?"

The other youngster smirked and pressed a button on his sleeve. Six's body locked up yet again.

"That's why," he said as he released Six from paralysis. "Come on now, time's of the essence. Chop chop!"

Six followed the local back out into the halls. The trip to their next stop was a rather short one, and a bit of a shocker. Whereas the halls were weathered and dark, this room was spotless and much more vibrant. It was practically crammed when they arrived. Most of its occupants were musicians of various races, tuning with as many types of instruments. An Ursus sat at a piano, some Lupos were playing violins. A couple of maestros were busy tutoring an accordionist with Bighorner horns.

The instructors stood out the most to the Courier. Though both of them bore jet-black cloaks and bone-white masks, there were some differences between them. One of them possessed goat horns and had yellow highlights. The other had radstag antlers and a hint of crimson on his robes. Both of them turned their heads toward the new arrivals as they walked in.

"Ah, ze gunslinger finally makes his debut," The Battleworn Spire Caster greeted in a German accent.

"Mr. Geiszler, I presume?" Six replied.

"Ze one and only. Pleased to finally make your acquaintance, Mr.…?"

"'Grant' will suffice."

"An alias, then?"

"I cannot confirm or deny."

"An understandable sentiment. Tell me, have you had any experience vith instruments?"

Six put a hand on his chin. He faintly recalled some guitar lessons from the Lonesome Drifter. Some days practicing the harmonica with the Kings also came to mind.

"A little," Six said. "Mostly with a harmonica and guitar. Haven't really had the chance to try out the latter much."

Gieszler put a hand on his chin and let out a short 'hmm'. "Vhat model of guitar, if you don't mind me asking," he said. "Acoustic? Lute? Gittern?"

Six shrugged. "Most people in the wasteland are more concerned with survival than musical talent," he said. "And even those with such interests are hard-pressed to seek out uh… erudition regarding the instruments themselves. I only know of a couple musicians back home, and they were self-taught."

"I see."

Gieszler motioned for Six to follow and led him to a guitar rack.

"Do any of vhese resemble a model you've stumbled across?" he asked.

Six examined each one. Some of these looked like something from a history book. 'Lutes', right? Others appeared to be electronic, a King's favorite. But then his eyes fell upon a particular one. Six grabbed it.

"Ah, a Dreadnought," the Leithanian replied. "Zat is vhat ve call un 'acoustic guitar'. Zhose are rather popular with ze Pioneers out vest."

Gieszler tossed something small at the Courier. He caught the mystery object and brought it to his face. It was a guitar pick.

"How long has it been since you used one of vhese?" the stagman -Elafia?- asked.

"Years," Six replied. "I've been rather busy."

"No rest for ze wicked, as vhey say."

Gieszler handed Six some papers from his pocket. He unfolded them to find musical notes printed on them.

"Can you read music sheets?" Gieszler asked.

Six shook his head.

"I vhought not. Take a seat over zhere," Gieszler said as he pointed at a pearl-white stool. "And just… experiment a bit. If you've played a song before, try to recall it."

Six did as told and closed his eyes. The Drifter only taught him how to play one song, so he didn't have to scrap through the archives for long. Replaying it was another story, though. He was well-versed in many sciences, but musicology wasn't his area of expertise. Dr. 8 had tried to tutor him in the field, but Six just couldn't wrap his head around it.

It took half an hour for him to get accustomed to the instrument again. And it took another half for him to get a decent rhythm. One more passed before he got managed to get a rough approximation of 'Home on the Wastes'. By then he was humming the song as his fingers danced across the strings.

He found himself back in the Mojave, watching geckos and coyotes play. Radscorpions and fire ants roamed across the sands, waging war against one another. He imagined Jacobstown developing into the spiritual successor to Broken Hills. Super Mutants, Ghouls, and humans working together, thriving together.

Once again a pair of clapping hands interrupted his performance. He opened his eyes to catch Geiszler in the act.

"Bravo, Mr. Grant," he congratulated.

"Did I pass?" Six asked.

"Only ze first half. Ze second part of vhis test revolves around your singing voice."

Six blinked. "My what-now?"

"Zhat song, does it have lyrics?"

Six nodded.

"Zhen sing it for me."

[Charisma ⅗] Reluctantly, he did. He could feel the men cringe as he sang, heard glass creaking. When the song reached its end, a glass vase exploded into transparent shards. Gieszler scowled.

"Vell, you obviously could use some fine-tuning," he admitted. "but you certainly have potential. Hmm, how often did you practice initially?"

Six shrugged. "Not much, to be honest," Six relented. "I have a photographic memory, but I doubt the same could be said of my ears. The only times I even picked up a guitar were for relieving stress or indulging in my curiosity. As for karaoke? Well…"

"Hmm… and vhat song vas zat, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Home on the Wastes."

"Un local melody from home?"

"You could say that."

"Hmmm… well, you did put your heart into all of vhis. I zhink you deserve un little reward for your performance. Micael, please take our amateur guitarist to ze guest rooms."

The younger man nodded and led Six out of the music room. Six's ears picked up something chiming in the background, beneath the waves of strings and horns. Something familiar. He stopped and closed his eyes, straining his ears to pinpoint the source. It sounded like-

Something metallic threw him stumbling back against a ladder. A maid cursed in Ursus as she fell off of it.

[Strength 8] Luckily Six was able to catch her before she crashed into the floor or him. Blood-red locks of hair brushed against him as she shook her head and-

A familiar set of hazel eyes locked onto his. Both of them blinked.

"Tania?" Six asked.

Lyudmila stared back at him. "Si-"

Six quickly shushed her. "Not here," he whispered. "Call me 'Grant' for now, okay."

The wolf-girl narrowed her eyes at him before nodding back. Six couldn't help but chuckle at her attire.

"You know, present circumstances aside, you don't look too shabby in that, Cinderella," Six teased.

Lyudmila huffed as she crossed her arms and looked away. "Shut it," she grumbled.

Six chuckled again as he stood her upright again. The knight from earlier walked over to them. In one hand was a mace, the other a shield. A helmet obscured their face while a golden tail flowed behind them.

"Are you two alright?" they asked in a feminine tone.

"We are," Six replied.

"Oi, watch where you're walking Nunes!" Micael reprimed. "You could've trampled on our guest of honor. And competent servants aren't exactly easy to come by either."

"My apologies, sir," replied the knight. "I'm running a little late to my next shift."

"Well, just be mindful of your surroundings."

"Yes sir."

The knight vanished around a corner. Something about their tail seemed familiar to Six, but Micael dragged him along by his sleeve before he could put his thinking cap on. He barely had enough time to wave back at Lyudmila before they disappeared behind the other one. The guest rooms rested at the end of the hall.

Before him were a bunch of bland doors, each bearing a number. Micael led him into #6. It was smaller than the room at the Black Death and certainly had less furniture. But the biggest takeaway for Six was the lack of a window. No view of the outside world, and certainly no escape either. Micael set some items on the table while Six was examining the room. A pencil, pen, sharpener, and sketchbook.

"This another warmup?" Six asked.

"More or less," Micael confirmed. "The Mistress asks that you make at least one sketch before your next trial."

"And when is that?"

"When her schedule opens up."

Larson paralyzed Six before he could inquire further. Once again he waltzed out the door and locked it. Six's motor functions returned to him and he fiddled at the knob. It wouldn't budge. Six huffed and stared down at the blank book.

At least I won't die of boredom in here. He thought to himself as he took a seat at the table.

Six grabbed the pencil and began tapping it on his chin. So many ideas came to mind for his first draft. So many memories to choose from.

---

By the time Six bothered to check the clock, it was already afternoon. Several pages have been filled up, though many of these had their sketches X'd out or thrown into the trashbin. Some of the contents were from the Wasteland, others from his recent adventures. Of course, art wasn't the only thing on his mind.

First, they threw him into a maze, then they had him play music and sing. Now they want him to draw some doodles. Why? Was it to test his aptitude for Arts? If what Micael said is true, that would be a plausible explanation. Were they looking to recruit and train more Casters, though? Or were more interested in how he wielded so many firearms? Are they studying them right now?

Six glanced back at his artwork . One page had some sketches of bots back on Earth, including ED-E and an Assualtron. Another was of the t-rex at Novac. On another page were Ingra, Leonhardt, Fiammetta, and Joshua Graham. Behind it were Benny's corpse and parodies of Mostima and Exusiai. Exusiai was a… 'biblically' accurate angel to put it politely. Mostima, on the other hand, was far more demonic, bearing the horns and talons of a Deathclaw. A two-headed Croissant rested at a bottom corner.

On the next two were a Yao Gui, a Super Mutant, Rotface (with his fancy hat), an anthropomorphic Lupo, and a Metal Crab. Yet two more had guns and other weapons from both worlds, including Exusiai's SMG and a plasma defender. One more showcased three suits of Power Armor; Patriot's, the Ganon family's Tesla suit, and that blond Kuranta in a Brotherhood Knight's T-51b. The helm of Lanius was crammed into the bottom right corner.

Six tried to bring up ED-E's beacon on his Pip-boy's radio multiple times in between breaks. And each time it was nothing but static. This time, something did pop up on the device. Something he hadn't expected.

Level Up!

Six blinked. This thing's still recording my adventures? Six thought to himself.

He brought up a series of windows on the Pip-Boy. The first one was the Skills tab. Everything had already been maxed out years ago, so he skipped that. The next one was the Perks tab, a selection of data packages for him to unlock after reaching certain criteria. Several were already being presented to him. Explorer, Here and Now, Quick Draw, Retention, Junk Rounds, Paralyzing Palm, Solar Powered, Plasma Spaz, Cowboy, Super Slam!

One caught his eye; Stonewall. He originally ignored that Perk because most people relied more on guns than brute force back home. Terra, however, is a different sort of animal. The locals have already bodied or flung him around like a ragdoll several times by now. It was time that he changed that.

He opened the Perk up, revealing several images, short animations, and a text file. He smiled as he examined its contents and reviewed previous Perks. He spent a few minutes practicing its stances, remembering all the times he got knocked down by some thug or merc here. Lyudmila's recent refresher seeps back into his mind, reinforcing his posture. Then he shifted his focus onto counterattacks, imagining himself brawling against some Legionary or Fiend.

He didn't know how long he practiced for. Time seemed to fly before someone knocked on the door. He turned to see a masked woman in a feathered dress entering the room. Yet another Sankta, but her wings seemed to be… crumbling. Her halo appeared to be fragmented, too. She also lacked any sort of firearm, too, now that he thought about it.

A smile curled onto her domino-masked face as she curtsied before the Courier. "Ah, bon après-midi, chérie," said the Scarlet Singer. "I am Paulina, your next guide through our slice of heaven."

"[Perception 8] You don't carry the same accent as your predecessors," Six noted.

The Sankta girl tilted her head. "Oh?" she asked coyly.

"They had a sort of… I dunno how to describe it."

"Lateran slant?"

"Something like that. Yours is more like Fre- erm, Gaulian."

"Ah. You're an astute one. Zhey only left ze Holy Land recently compared to me. I was… compelled to do so at a younger age."

"'Compelled'?"

"It is a long story. One I would rather not tell today. And from what I hear, you feel ze same, non?"

Six nodded.

"Zhen I'll get straight to ze point. Firstly, please hand over your papers."

Six did as instructed. A small 'hmm' slithered from behind her mask.

"Interesting designs," Paulina noted. "Are some of zhese based on your personal experiences?"

"Some. I've seen plenty of zany sh-"

Six yelped as the shock collar went off. He let a short growl before finishing.

"Crazy stuff out in the wasteland."

"I see. I hear zhat Columbia conducts all sorts of experiments in ze wild. Are zhese some of zhem?"

Experiments? Like the Vaults? Six thought to himself. "You could say that," he lied.

"What's zat thing?" she asked, pointing at a sketch.

"An Assaultron. A robot that fires a concentrated Arts beam from a head-mounted cannon."

"You mean ze massive eye?"

"Yep. Its actual ones are right under it, as far as I can tell."

"How many have you encountered?"

"Just one. And I pray there aren't more out there."

She glanced down at another one. "And zhis is your robot, oui?" she asked.

Six somberly nodded. "Yeah," he said. "ED-E. My first companion on this hellhole of a planet," His face morphed into a scowl as he continued. "And your buddies trashed him."

"My apologies," Paulina said. "We can find a suitable replacement-"

"Replacement? ED-E's one of a kind!" Six shouted back, bolting up onto his feet and slamming a fist on the table. "There's no way in hell anybody can replace him! He was the last of his production line and your damned abomination of science scrapped him! Where the fuck am I gonna find a replacement, let alone the parts to repair him!?"

Six stood there huffing and puffing for a minute, trying to cool down. The Sankta girl held her breath during that time and was happy to let it out when he calmed down. She glanced down at the drawings of the creatures and turned the sketchbook.

"Are these creatures from ze wasteland?" she asked.

"The Deathclaw?" Six asked. "Yep. They're the apex predator where I'm from."

"Mon Dieu! And I thought Higashi had terrifying beasts. And zhese two?"

"Super Mutants and Ghouls? They're… part of a personal side project I've been writing up."

"Really? Like a play?"

"[Speech 45] More like a post-apocalyptic sci-fi novel. Something I call 'Project Exodus'.

"Interesting. And are some of zhese characters and items for said project?"

"More or less. Though the former were inspired by real individuals I encountered."

"I see. And judging from ze halos and wings, two of zhem were Sankta?"

Six nodded. "They haven't left a positive impression on me."

"What did zhey do to warrant your animosity?"

"They tried to steal my gear."

"For what reason?"

"They weren't happy about my gun collection."

Paulina put a hand to her mouth. "You… you can wield firearms?" she asked with…consternation? She didn't sound as offended as Larsson, for some reason.

Six tilted his head. "Uh, yeah?" he confirmed. "Your theocratic buddies didn't fill you in?"

There was a brief flicker of something behind her eyes. Something on the negative side of the emotional spectrum. Something caustic. Her brows furrowed for a nano-second but she quickly regained her composure.

"I never had ze opportunity to earn my patron firearm," she relented.

"Patron firearm?"

"Your very first gun. Many Sankta consider zhem to be an extension of zheir soul."

Six snorted. "Fucking technophiles," he muttered.

"Excuse me?"

"Guns are technology, tools. From my understanding, they're just fancy staves that require intense focus to properly wield. There's nothing holy about any of it."

That little whirlpool culminated into a tsunami. The young woman slammed her own fist against the wall beside her, leaving a sizeable mark. The fury in her eyes almost matched that of Joshua Graham's.

"You don't know what it's like to be denied your birthright!" she snarled. "To be robbed of your freedom!"

"Oh, I do," Six retorted, pointing at his collar. "And you're working with snake oil salesmen that're robbing at least dozens of theirs."

"At least my cohorts and I offer zhem salvation."

"What, 'obey thy master' and your deity will offer them a seat in heaven?"

"Exactly! Ze strife of the living world is evanescent, trivial. What Zhey need is faith."

Six glared at her. "You call gaslighting 'faith'?" he snarled back.

"As if a non-croyant like you would know ze meaning of such a word. What do you coquins believe in anyways?"

"Empathy. Basic decency. Freedom for all sapient beings. That sort of thing."

"If it's freedom you what, you'll have to earn it like the rest of us."

"And I'm supposed to take the word of my wardens?"

Paulina didn't respond to his retort. Instead, she merely opened the door and beckoned him. After a moment's hesitation, he obliged. Just like Micael, she didn't bother to blindfold him. Hell, she didn't bother to flash her remote at him. Probably didn't want to risk Six snatching it out of her hands. Seeing as that she wasn't as hearty as her predecessors, he couldn't blame her.

She led him down to the ground floor of the manor and through the lobby. Eventually, they walked into… a ballroom? No, not just a ballroom. A stage and Opera pit rested at the end of the chamber, while two balconies flanked each side of the room. A choir stood on the stage, singing in French. Some speakers around the ceiling provided additional ambiance with their music. This place must double as a theater too. The stage certainly looks big enough to hold a play.

Seeing this place brought back memories of The Gourmand and Tampico. The people dancing between the choir and pair certainly wouldn't look out of place of the former. And just like the Ultra Lux, it was putting up a facade of Old World opulence. He could see cracks in the walls, worn-out wallpaper, and faded areas in the crimson carpet and walls. He held his breath as his eyes processed the speakers, ears awaiting the dreaded beeping to follow suit. He was relieved to hear nothing of the sort.

So far.

Wait. Those blemishes looked more like stains. Was something splattered here? Pauline tugged him through the masquerade before he could analyze it any further, catching a glance from its participants. He didn't sense anything behind their masks as they crossed the room. Whatever interest they held quickly faded and they turned their attention back to the party.

The conductor directing the ensemble was a middle-aged woman in a similar outfit to Paulina's. While the Sankta's dress and mask showed signs of age, the other woman's was rather pristine. Judging from the fox ears and tail, she was a Vulpo.

The thing that struck Six, though, was her gauntlet. Though it had an elegant sheen and design, he could make out wires and pistons underneath the plating. A shard of Originium rested on the back of her armored claw, giving off a subtle hellish glow. A smile slithered across her face as she turned to face the newcomers.

"Oh, Mon petit ange," she said, ruffling the girl's hair. "How are you on zhis fine day?"

"Merveilleuse, madame," Paulina replied with a cursy. "Comment était la vôtre?"

"Ma journée a été productive, ma chère," the Vulpo said as she pulled at the false-angel's cheek.

Then she noticed the younger dancer's company. "Ah, ze Mysterious Stranger finally graces zhis hallowed place," she said. "Bienvenue, monsieur Grant. I am Madame Karine, zhe mistress of zhis fine manor. It is an honor to meet you finally. You caused quite a commotion last night."

"You didn't exactly roll out the red carpet," Six retorted.

"And you weren't invited," Karine quipped back. "But it is fortunate that someone with as much backbone as you happened across us. We have a bit of a staff shortage and are in dire need of some able bodies. Follow me."

The women led them backstage and into a dressing room. They more or less resembled the ones at the Serria Madre, possessing makeup stations, a sofa, and a personal closet. Both women took a seat on the couch.

"Gieszler informed me of your singing voice," she said. "It sounded like you gave him an aneurysm. How about a dance? Do you know how to… how do you say it? 'Boogie'?"

[Agility 5] Six initially tilted his head in disbelief before shaking it. He nodded and took some steps back away from them. Lessons from Tommy Torini swam back to him and he found his body falling back into memory lane. Both women were impressed by his soft-shoe act. He stopped dancing as soon as he heard them clapping.

"Now zhat's more like it!" Kirane said. "But about a tango? Or a waltz?"

"Hate to break it to you, but I'm a bit of a lone wolf," Six said. "I only know solo dances."

"Ma petite chou-fleur can show you how to waltz. Shouldn't take too long. Once you've got ze rhythm and proper dress, you shall join ze Masquerade."

Kirane walked over to a nightstand and turned on something resembling Earth's cathedral radios. Six's hairs raised on their ends as the device roared to life, expecting his collar to start beeping. Instead, all his ears picked up was classical music. Karine had this look of nostalgia on her masked face as she let the ambiance sink in, murmuring something in French. Six on the other hand had a less pleasant memory running through his skull. He barely took note of the mistress swinging to the music as she departed.

Paulina had to snap her fingers to bring him back to reality. He shook his head and glanced back at the Sankta.

"Are you alright, monsieur?" she asked.

"Just had a bit of a flashback is all."

"Flashback?"

"That radio can't set off my collar, right?"

"Set off-?" was all could mutter before bursting into a giggling fit. "Oh you must've seen one of zhose bulkier collars, haven't you?"

"You could say that."

"Oh do not worry about it, monsieur. Our collars are heavily encrypted. No foreign signal can interfere with zhier systems."

Six exhaled in relief as the apprentice motioned towards a wardrobe. Six walked over and opened it up to find a costume inside. Old posters of Zorro flashed through his mind as he grabbed its hanger. Yet it was far more elegant than most portrayals he knew of. Black vest, gloves, and trousers, the latter of which had some gold accents. White shirt and blood-red cape. Black hat with a crimson feather. A pearl-white cat-themed domino mask. And all sorts of holsters and pouches.

Six glanced back at Paulina. "Don't suppose you're gonna give me some privacy. Or at least a different type of mask?"

She shook her head. Six scowled and switched outfits as quickly as he could. Paulina let out a small 'roar' and swatted her hands like a cat as she gazed upon his scarred body. Six grumbled and cursed her under his breath as he changed. As soon as the last piece slipped on, she put a playful hand on her chin.

"Hmm, perfect fit," she noted. "Almost ze same physique as its previous wearer. You fill his shoes quite well. But can you still dance in zhem?"

[Agility 6] Six re-enacted the Rad Pack's hustle yet again. The change in footwear and the addition of the cape made things a bit more complicated, but he was still just as light on his feet as before. The Sankta's hands clapped as he finished.

"Parfait!" she said. "Now ze real challenge begins. Come on over to me. Don't be shy now."

Six just glared at her for a minute before he gave in to her request. She guided one hand just under her arm and had it grip the pit. The other one was stretched to the side, locking with hers.

"Ever heard of ze Box Step?" Paulina asked.

Six shook his head.

"I zhought not. It is rather simple. Ze couple dances in a box-like pattern. Just follow my guidance and you should have it nailed down."

Six nodded. They spent the first ten minutes getting him into a rhythm. Left foot forward, glide to the right, close legs, right foot back, glide to the left, close legs again. Partners are offset, right leg allows out. Count to six. Rinse and repeat.

They moved on to the Progressive from there. Instead of going in a square, they shuffled forward. Left forward, shuffle right, right foot forward, shuffle back. The next step- Hesitation- was just shuffling back and forth. Quarter turns for well, Turning Boxes. The under-arm turn wasn't as easy as those pre-war movies make it out as. The promenade position, twinkle, open rolls, back-to-back, shadow position boxes, and the chasse certainly weren't either.

They spent the next hour practicing before they heard a knock on the door. Pauline broke off from the Courier to greet their guest. A masked Sankta with a familiar halo and 'wing' patterns.

"Is the man of the hour ready?" Micael asked.

"Oui," Paulina confirmed. "And his partner?"

"Already cleaned up. And nicely too, might I add."

"Partner?" Six asked.

"Oui," Paulina replied. "Ze main objective of zhis exercise is to find and dance with your partner."

"And they are…?"

"Someone you're already familiar with. Zhat is all I'm at liberty to say. Oh, and before you go, take zhese…"

She handed a sword and a sheath to him. Both of these looked like they were plucked from the Revolutionary War. He glanced back at the girl for an answer, but all he got was a sheepish wave. Six turned to Micael, who signaled for him to follow. The Courier complied and was guided back into the ballroom-slash-theater. The Madame was nowhere to be found.

"You've never been to a ball before, have you?"

Six shook his head.

"Figured as much. Never had any love for these events myself, but Paulina taught me a few things: one, keep your mask on until a bell or some other alarm rings. Two, maintain your anonymity and respect everyone else's. You can inquire about and gauge someone's identity but don't expect any straight answers. Three, basic manners. I'm sure you don't need me to explain that."

Six shook his head.

"Well, now that everything's said and done, it's time for you to find your dance partner. As for me, I've got a couple of chores on my to-do list. Choro fruere."

Micael broke off from Six and vanished through the crowd. The Courier waded through the waves towards one of the walls. One-half of it was covered with tables, bearing bowls of some crimson liquid. It had a slightly fruity scent to it, but he couldn't identify it. A quick scan with his Pipboy revealed that there was something in the drink, but it couldn't make heads or tails as to what, though. He opted to leave the bowl be for now.

His eyes focused on the other half of the wall. Several chairs lined up against it, each occupied by some lonely soul. He analyzed each of them, trying to figure out which one was his partner. That theocrat claimed that it was someone he knew, so he figured- he prayed- that it was Lyudmila.

None of the women were Lupos. Some of them reached out to him, asking for his hand in this dance. He declined and was about to resume his search when he heard someone arguing. Some inquired about his background, bringing up topics like the recent deaths of certain mercs. He played coy and dodged their questions before moving on.

He stopped occasionally to eavesdrop, trying to pick up clues on his partner's condition and location. In one particular instance, he spied on two men arguing in French. He had no idea what they were saying, but it seemed pretty heated. One of them grabbed the other's mask-

-and their collars went off. Instead of exploding, they unleashed a torrent of tamed lightning throughout their bodies. They collapsed in sizzling heaps, smoke slithering out of their charred orifices. A couple of servants appeared and carried the fresh corpses over their shoulders. Nobody else seemed to notice any of this.

Six blinked before shaking his head and continued his search. He slinked across the edges of the ballroom, weaving past couples frolicking towards or limping from the dance floor. The latter group seemed to have a dark red fluid dripping from their shoes. He hoped that wasn't what he thought it was. Fortune finally smiled upon him when he spied her sitting by the exit.

Though a wolf-shaped domino mask and neck gaiter obscured her face, he recognized the red hair, drooping wolf ears, and crimson eyes behind it. She was dressed in attire similar to his, laying bare the scars on her arm. Her cape thankfully wasn't as long and cumbersome as his, though the inside was a warm orange instead of Six's crimson. Her Lupo tail dangled from her back as before, twitching as her gaze fell upon his Pipboy.

Six plopped down beside her. "Enjoying the party, Mata Hari?" he asked, allowing a sliver of sarcasm to slip through.

The girl glanced up at him to meet his emerald eyes and blinked. "Izvrashchenets?" she asked.

Six nodded. "Are you ever gonna tell me the translation for that word?" he asked coyly.

She stared at him before shaking her head and reaching out for his mask. He gently grabbed her wrist before she could unmask him.

"Not yet," he warned. "These masks appear to be tied to our collars. If they're removed-" he acted out the final moments of the recently departed to get the idea across. "Not until some bell rings anyway.

Lyudmila's eyes narrowed in disappointment, but she relented with a grunt.

"So how's your day been so far?" Six asked.

"Hell. Yours'?"

"Same. This gala doing your spirit any favors?"

Lyudmila let out a small 'hmm' before she replied. "Can't say, honestly," she said with a shrug. "This is the first one I've ever attended."

"[Perception 5] 'Attended' as in 'with an invitation'?" Six noted.

Lyudmila paused before nodding. "Da. The Ursus don't typically invite the Infected to their grand parties, not even as servants. I snuck into one while searching for a… person of interest, but that's about it. You haven't been to one either, have you?"

Six shook his head. "Galas aren't exactly common back in the wastelands, let alone popular. You know how to dance?"

"I've just learned my first steps. I'm used to footwork, but not this."

Six offered her an assuring smile and his hand as he rose back up. "That makes two of us," he confessed. "But we've made for a dynamic duo thus far. I'm sure we can pull off a simple dance."

Lyudmila rolled her eyes. "Just be mindful of where your hands wander," she warned. "You wouldn't want to prick your fingers on my thorns."

Six chuckled. "As if a little papercut is gonna scare me," he boasted. "[Ladykiller] And I've always had a soft spot for wild roses anyway."

Lyudmila's face flushed underneath her mask as she took his hand. He pulled her up onto her feet and guided her into the party. Once they found a space, they locked together and began to waltz. It took a couple of minutes for them to get in sync, but they quickly found a decent rhythm. They bumped into other couples now and then, but they always brushed it off. Actually, they barely seemed to register each collision.

"And how about that thick skull of yours?" Six whispered in a teasing tone. "Got any additional bruises or bad ideas I need to patch up?"

Lyudmila glared at him. "It might've seen better days," she whispered back. "Got any more bullets in yours?"

"As if. Though I'll admit that I'm already missing-"

Six's response turned into a grunt as her heeled boot stomped on his toes. He glared daggers at her.

"Watch it," he hissed. "These boots don't have any plating in them."

He could sense her smug aura even if her mask and gaiter concealed her face.

"Le mie scuse, signore," she taunted in his ear. "I'm still learning the ins and outs of this art."

Six growled under his breath as they danced. "Among other things?" Six whispered back.

"Such as?"

"The Capital A."

Luydmila's eyes narrowed as she pieced together his query. "Not with this… necklace on," she hissed. "What about yours?"

"Nope. Otherwise, I would've turned those 'patron guns' on their masters. And judging from your choice of words, sounds like you've already discovered that thing's blacklist."

She nodded with a scowl. "What did they want with you?"

"The lady that owns this manor mentioned something about a 'staff shortage'. Sounded like recruitment, but she didn't specify for what occupation, though. You?"

"Labor at first. Put up as much resistance as I could, but…" she sighed.

"Did they hurt you?"

"Bruised me with their whips but nothing too serious. That pale devil saw to it."

Six blinked. "'Pale devil'?

"Da. With dark horns and blue eyes. Probably the best medic I've met thus far."

Six lowered his head for a brief moment. "Liz," he whispered.

"You know that woman?"

"I bumped into her while doing volunteer work at the medical center. Was she wearing a collar like us?"

"Da, but I can't see what these people want with her. Or us, for that matter."

"We're missing a lotta pieces of the puzzle here. What kind of tasks did they give you?"

"Clearing a nest of Originum slugs, hunting with their hound-master, feeding their hounds, cleaning, cooking something from a shoddy Sirausan recipe book, some farming. Then they cleaned me up and had me do some singing. And you?"

"Same for the most part, minus the huntin'. They threw in some weird tests too. Navigating a booby-trapped maze filled with puzzles, drawing, a guitar lesson, gauging my singing voice, dance lessons, and finding my 'partner'."

Lyudmila tilted her head. "You said you spoke with their leadership?"

"Yeah, the manor's mistress. A Vulpo woman with a funny accent. Sounded like Fren- ahem, 'Gaulish' to me. One of the local bounties- that Leithanian Caster- is here too. They have some Sankta colluding with them, but I don't know where those theocrats sit on the chain of command. Far as I can tell, most of them have a passion for art with a lowercase A."

"Hmm… sounds like they were testing your sense of culture," Lyudmila speculated. "Maybe your intelligence too. Not sure about the traps, though. Some twisted game, maybe? What was their reaction to each test?"

"They liked my sketches and didn't complain about my skills with a harmonica and guitar. That hulking Sankta seemed pissed that I survived their maze."

Mila tilted her head again. "Huh, never took you as a musician," she commented.

"Never had the time or desire to experiment in that field. I'm a scientist, not an art historian."

"And your vocals?"

"The less said, the better."

Lyudmila playfully cringed. "I guess not everyone appreciates your voice," she snickered.

Six's response was to step on her toes. She grunted and hissed back at him. He smirked.

"Sorry," he claimed. "Haven't had a proper dance with anyone in years."

"I thought you said you didn't go to a gala?" Lyudmila hissed back.

"I haven't. And certainly not the waltz. But I have learned a thing or two about the Tango."

"Tango? That's a bit old school."

"It kinda is," Six admitted. "Last I heard, Rock and Roll was the craze before-"

Six stopped himself.

"Before what? Before you were born?"

"Something like that."

Mila's eyes narrowed behind her mask. "Not sure if you wastelanders have heard, but techno's the new Rock and Roll these days."

"You mean electric guitars?"

"Not exactly. Look, if we get out of here alive, I'll help you broaden your musical horizons."

"An exchange of culture? Deal."

Silence fell between them as they ran out of topics. The only thing their ears registered was the music and echo of everyone's footsteps. It felt… repetitive. Robotic. Even their fellow dancers seemed soulless. The only thing in the room with any semblance of life (aside from the pair themselves) was the choir. Speaking of robots…

"Have you at least seen ED-E?" he whispered back.

"Not since last night," the girl admitted. "But I overheard one of the guards mention something about a workshop. If they found its remains by now, they'll probably be sent there for study. Or at least salvaging."

A small 'hmm' slipped through Six's lips. He could help himself to his next jailor's keys, but they probably wouldn't have much use beyond escaping from his initial prison. And from what he saw of the manor thus far, there weren't many hiding spots. Maybe he could unlock some if he were lucky, but the chances of there being company behind the other doors were fairly high.

Six hadn't noticed it until now but Lyudmila had a strange smell to her. Something sweet. Something his wastelander brain couldn't identify. Probably some shampoo or perfume her captors sprayed on her. He kinda liked it, to his surprise. And he had to admit, she looked nice in that outfit. Not all that revealing or formfitting in comparison to some of the other attendees, but certainly badass in its own right.

"You know, you look good in that," Six whispered as her back was to him. "Like something out of a movie poster." He then gave her a brief sniff. "Smell good too."

He could sense her temperature rising behind her headgear. "...I could say the same about you," she relented.

Six chuckled. His outfit was hardly as armored as he would've liked, but it was miles better than prison rags at least. He wouldn't mind keeping it after he got this damn collar off. Maybe even modify and add it to his collection back at the Lucky 38.

The music eventually drew to close. The clock's bell chimed and everyone else removed each other's masks. Seeing as none of their collars went off, Six and Lyudmila followed suit. The latter's gaiter dangled around her neck as her partner pulled it down, while both masks were dropped to the floor. Both of them allowed themselves to exhale in relief. Six normally would've preferred to keep his face covered, but that mask felt suffocating as hell to him for some reason. Felt wrong.

"Heh, there's the fiery wolfgirl I know," Six remarked.

Lyudmila didn't say anything immediately. Her eyes were scanning him up and down. Without warning her hands honed in on his scars and started feeling them over.

"Hey!" Six snapped. "What are you-?"

"Just double-checking your identity," Lyudmila replied.

Six scowled as her fingers brushed against his skull's dents and ran through his hair. "Is this really necessary?" he asked.

"No, but better safe than sorry. Hm…"

"What?"

"Well, you aren't hiding any horns or ears under that hair," she confirmed as she stepped back. "What exactly are you?"

"Hell if I know," Six said as he crossed his arms. "And you're the second person that asked me that today. Maybe the tenth in the last week alone. I'm honestly getting sick of hearing that question over and over again."

That annoyed scowl quickly morphed into a mischievous smile. "That being said, how do I know you are the real Lyudmila?"

She barely had the time to protest before he returned the favor. He felt faint scars on her cheeks and combed through her hair. He tugged at both pairs of ears and scratched around her wolf ones, earning a vexed growl from her. One of his hands trailed down her back to her tail, stroking it.

"Yep, it's you alright," Six said as he pulled away from her.

Lyudmila flinched under his touch, grumbling as her face turned a faint pink. She didn't want to admit it, but his little experiment stirred something within her. She couldn't put her finger on it, but she was certain that it was a positive sensation. Something familiar. Where did she-?

All of a sudden her wolf ears jolted up and she narrowed her eyes. She had this serious look on her face. Six was about to ask her what was wrong when his motion tracker picked up movement. One of the orange rectangles just shifted into scarlet. And they were right behind him.

Six spun around and saw a Gaulish Liberi bringing his blade down. Lyudmila managed to pull her partner back in time to avoid it. Six shrugged her off of him and delivered a roundhouse kick, dazing his assailant. A stab through his back and slice up through his shoulder neutralized the enemy.

Most of the other IFF markers in Six's HUD took on the same scarlet tone by then. The dance quickly dissolved into a battle royal. Some attendees stuck with their partners while others fought each other or split off to find other prey. Some were Casters, others Snipers, some swordsmen. It was a sudden shock, but the carnage wasn't new to him.

What threw him was how jovial everyone was. They were still laughing and giggling, still drowning in revelry. They didn't see this as a fight for survival. They saw it as gaiety. Six couldn't tell if they were as juiced up as Fiends, or if they were truly this demented.

Lyudmila parried another woman's dagger as it made its own swipe at her. She managed to disarm the Caprine and spin behind her, slashing her throat. The woman croaked out a wet giggle as she stroked the bloodstains on her dress, then dropped dead. Lyudmila bumped against Six's back as they surveyed the chaos.

"What the fuck is wrong with these people!?" Lyudmila snapped.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Six shouted back through the mirth.

An arrow was the next thing to fly past him. He turned to face a man in a red dress cackling, aiming a wrist-mounted mini-cross bow at him. The man backpedaled to reload but he stumbled on his heels and fell onto the floor. Six pounced on him before he could reload, slicing his throat open. Six glanced down at the recently deceased's arm and unfastened his weapon's straps. He then gave it a brief inspection before adding it to his inventory. He'd love to study that later.

A woman in a tuxedo tried to run Lyudmila through with a rapier, but she vaulted over the bitch and jammed a knife into her spine. Another attendee in similar attire tried to gut her, but she strafed around him and grabbed his arm. She bent it backward, eliciting a cry of agonized ecstasy. She cringed before impaling him through his chest. Six meanwhile shuddered as he saw that grin curl up on his corpse.

Someone managed to swing their cane at him. It left a mild bruise on his cheek but didn't take much HP off of him. The man charged at Six, but a leg sweep tripped him over. The Courier finished him off with a thrust towards his heart. Another bolt flew by him, nicking his other cheek. He traced its trajectory back to the box seats. There was a crossbow sticking out up there.

"Tania, sniper in the boxes!" Six cried out.

Lyudmila shifted her focus towards Six's finger as she finished off another dancer. She gave him a brief nod and ran up towards a brute of an attendee. She bounced off his shoulders and grabbed onto the ledge of the box. She waited for the sniper to open fire again before she struck.

Six meanwhile took cover behind a toppled buffet table. A Caster was pelting it with Arts fire. Six glanced around for something-anything- to throw at him. A tomahawk was buried in the back of a guest's spine. Six reached over and grabbed it. He toggled VATS and allowed his Pipboy to take the steering wheel for a moment. He got shot square in the chest, but so did his target. The Courier shrugged off the pain and rushed over to the downed native. Six yanked the tomahawk out of his body and cleaved his opponent's face in half.

A table flew over Six's head and crashed into some other dancers. His head snapped towards the party responsible. It was a tuxedoed Cerato. He seemed just as muscular as Guntur, and had no issue throwing the other patrons around. He already had arrows and Arts burns on his body, yet he hardly seemed to notice. He didn't seem to be as cheerful as the rest of the party, though. Six didn't know if he should feel relieved or worried.

He settled on the latter when the brute shifted his gaze towards him. Six sidestepped the brute's tackle and blocked a backhanded punch with his sword. He hacked away at him for a bit before his opponent caught it between his palms. To Six's shock, he snapped the blade off and tried to stab him with it. The Courier was quick enough to evade his swings and thrusts, but he barely had a weapon left.

He sheathed the broken sword and settled on fisticuffs. Back on Earth, Six would just tank through his enemies' punches, but he didn't have that luxury here. He was bouncing around on his tiptoes, gracefully dancing around the Cerato. He even managed to parry him at one point and buried his ruined weapon into his gullet. He hardly flinched.

He did, however, react to Lyudmila pouncing on his shoulders and jamming daggers into his eyes. He let out a screech as he grabbed her, throwing her over and crashing into a buffet table. While he was blind, Six used the opportunity to scavenge another sword and crossbow from a couple of fallen attendees. He sliced off one of the rhino-man's legs with the former and swapped out for the latter before he hit the ground. He toggled VATS and locked onto his skull, letting his Pipboy take the steering wheel.

The bastard's skull exploded under the barrage of bolts. Six smirked as his enemy's vitals vanished from the HUD. He glanced around the room for hostiles, but he was relieved to find no more. The choir was nowhere to be found. They must've fled when the carnage started.

He turned his attention back towards where Lyudmila flew and spied her on the floor. He walked over and knelt beside her.

"You alright?" Six asked.

Lyudmila grunted as she rolled onto her bottom. "Just added another bruise to today's collection," she said, rubbing her arm. A faint trail of crimson seeped through her fingers. Six pulled her hand back revealing a cut on her arm. She scuffed at him.

"Had a piece of that punch bowl embedded in me earlier," she added. "I already got the shard out."

"You're still bleeding," Six noted. "And blood loss can lead to many complications. Not to mention that open wounds are an invitation for infections and the possibility of more shards hiding in there."

"It's just a small cut, dammit! And I'm already Infe-"

She stopped mid-sentence when Six unbuckled his cape and tore a portion of its bottom off. One piece was used to soak up the blood and cast aside. Another was used to bandage the wound.

"There," Six said. "That should hold until we find a healer or some supplies."

Speak of the devil and she shall appear. Both combatants turned to see her, Paulina, Karine, and a few goons walking into the ballroom. Six would've thought the mistress to be upset, but it was quite the opposite. She clapped her hands at them all giddy-like. Everyone else, by comparison, had poker faces on (though Six sensed some distress behind Liz's eyes and a flash of… recognition?).

"Merveilleuse!" Karine cried. "Merveilleuse! I figured at least ze Lupo would survive, but both of you? And with all your limbs attached, no less? I'm impressed. Ms. Liz, tend to zhem, will you?"

Liz nodded and made her way to Lyudmila. The staff in her hands wasn't the same one Six saw at the tent. It was crudier, clunky, rusted to hell and back. Their captors seemed lenient towards medical Arts, but they felt the need to replace her instrument. Why? Did she have other powers at her disposal?

A faint cyan glow appeared over Lyudmila's wound. The fresh crimson stains vanished under her staff's rays, but he couldn't see if the same could be said for her actual injury. A scan with VATS showed that some of her limb's health had been restored, though. The blonde whispered something to the redhead, but it was too soft for his ears to pick up properly.

Liz broke off from the wolf-girl and moved to Six. Her hand hovered across his body, coating it in that same aura. Not only was the pain numbed, but his HUD also noticed an uptick in his HP (although that could just have been his Monocyte Breeder's handiwork. Or maybe it was reacting to her powers?). A small 'hmm' crept through her lips.

"Something wrong?" Six asked.

"It's nothing. Your outfit just reminded me of someone for a moment. What race are you, if you don't mind me asking?"

Six's brow twitched and he sighed. "I'll tell you the same thing I've said to everyone else today, I don't fu-"

Six howled as the collar went off yet again, startling Liz. When the surge wore off, he glared back at the Sarkaz.

"I don't know, okay?" he snarled. "I've been a blank slate since I crawled out of my early grave."

"Do you at least have some suspicions?" Liz asked.

"No, and frankly I have more important things to worry about than my heritage. For example, you. What're you doing here?"

"I was... escorted here by the Mistress's agents."

"You mean kidnapped?"

Liz nodded.

"Why?"

Liz looked away for a moment. "For a bargain."

"With whom?"

"I'd rather not say. Not here at least."

Liz scanned the Courier some more before she spoke up again.

"Have you ever seen the ocean?" she asked.

Six raised an eyebrow. "I don't think so. Why do you-"

The next thing Six knew he was in a metallic hallway. No, not a hallway, a deck. A deck with a shanty town built over it. He could make out the dark waters rippling against a rusting ship and decaying pier. A Chinatown gleamed in the distance like a beacon, beckoning wary travelers.

A middle-aged nanny was tending to his wounds, or at least trying to. He kept shaking her off, shoving her arm away. She mumbled something to herself, shaking her head.

"Mr. Theuses?"

He snapped back to reality and found Liz's hands on his arm. He shook his head.

"Sorry," he said. "Think I might've got pulled into a flashback."

"Flashback?"

"Or hallucination. Kinda hard to tell the difference between the two, in my experience."

"I… see. Did I trigger it?"

"Maybe? Maybe not. Last I checked, it's rare for a hallucination or flashback to be triggered by anything. They just tend to pop up."

"Hmm…"

Six allowed Liz to wrap up his treatment. The mistress approached them as they stood back up, carefully stepping over some fresh corpses.

"You and your partner certainly have strong stomachs," Karine noted. "Did you two happen to sample our cuisine before zhis little brawl started?"

Six would've quipped with the Survival Tag, but his stomach ruined the moment. He cursed it under his breath.

"Hmm, can't say I blame either of you. Zhis was hardly an appetizer by our kitchen's standards. I'd dare say zhat ze food here was just edible props for ze exercise. Why don't I treat you two to a proper meal?"

"What, you're gonna make us dinner?" Six asked with slight sarcasm.

"More like inviting you to one. Today already has a guest of honor in mind, but I can add you two to ze list."

"'Guest of honor'? Who?"

"You'll see soon enough. But supper's still a couple of hours away. Paulina, escort zhese lost souls to back to ze guest rooms and send some fresh clothes zhier way. We don't want zhem leaving bloody trails into ze dining room."

Paulina nodded and motioned for the pair to follow. They reluctantly complied. The mooks went to work on cleaning up the recent carnage. Some of the bodies appeared to be growing obsidian crystals on their surface.

Six had been sent back to his previous dorm, while Lyudmila went next door. A minute later a servant returned with yet another fresh set of clothes for him. It consisted of an ash-gray tailcoat, a military-green waistcoat, gray slacks, a light-gray shirt with a cravat, and long light-grey socks. It had this 1800's military vibe to it. Maybe it belonged to a veteran? Like every outfit before, it was a perfect fit.

They didn't bring him any reading material or anything to occupy himself with, though. He had to go over the room with a fine tooth comb for it instead. He dug up some old magazines and books, but they were all in French. And he didn't have his travel guide to translate any of it.

The former at least had some nice photos and artwork. He was rather surprised to see some saucy material among them. The medic and mad scientist within him couldn't help but wonder if any of the people in that one were anatomically correct. Probably not.

It didn't take long for him to get bored with the magazines, though. He found himself wondering about the mistress's 'guest of honor.' He hadn't been on the property for long, but he was certain that it was in the middle of nowhere. Bad place for hosting parties with the nobility, but perfect for hiding from prying eyes. Was Karine involved in the theft of the satellite? She and Geiszler were during business with Ingra, after all. Maybe one of his colleagues was invited over to discuss business. Or turn over Ingra's killers to them.

Speaking of killers, what was the point of that 'dance' back there? She said she counted on at least one of the pair surviving. Was she looking for survivalists, killers, both? Was she looking to recruit either traveler? If so, for what purpose? His mind wandered back to their trials. Lyudmila mentioned hunting with a hound master, purging a slug nest, cooking, slavery. They wanted to make sure she followed orders at the very least.

But what about him? Were they testing his intellect, just as Mila suggested? The maze and puzzles would support this theory, but what about the musical and artistic side of things? His aptitude for Arts perhaps? That would certainly explain why Gieszler wanted to see him in person.

Alright, so they want fighters, maybe killers, Six thought to himself. They wanted to test out my skills and Lyudmila's deference. But to what end? Do they want bodyguards? Slavers? Assassins? Soldiers? Who would be our enemies in any of those scenarios?

Six growled. The suspense was killing him. He had no idea what their goals or hand were and wasn't even too sure if he had enough cards himself. By the time a servant came to collect him and Lyudmila, his PIP-Boy read 7 PM. The sun's probably set by now.

Lyudmila's outfit had changed yet again. This time it consisted of a double-breasted tailless jacket, a jabot shirt, divided skirt, and leather riding boots. It looked like something worn by aristocratic hunters and horse riders from the Victorian era. What did those Pre-War history books call that kinda attire? A 'riding habit'?

At this rate, we might as well be fashion models, Six thought to himself. "Digging the new threads, Tania?"

"Can't say it's my cup of tea," Lyudmila admitted. "Especially under current circumstances."

"Agreed. The sooner we get this over with, the better."

The servant frowned slightly at their banter, but he supposed he couldn't blame them. "This way, please," he said as he motioned them to follow.

More of that gothic architecture awaited them in the dining hall. They trodded over the velvet carpet, taking note of the ebon furniture and their golden etches. Ash-gray walls and pillars surrounded them, while velvet linens added life to the dreary environment. A couple of cracked mirrors flanked each side of the table, the light from the fireplace and chandelier bouncing off them.

Above the fireplace were portraits of two men with feathers, probably Liberi. They both had this regal air surrounding them, yet Six couldn't help but feel that something was off about the artwork. It looked like both men were glaring daggers at each other. The only thing keeping them from ripping into each other- figuratively speaking- was yet another speakerbox. It was playing more of that French music.

But what caught his eye was all the food on the table. A menagerie of deserts, soups, roasts, wines, appetizers, salads, fruit, cheeses and crackers. It was enough to put even the Gourmet to shame. He recognized some of the dishes from the Mojave. Shepherd's Pie, steak fries, something smelling like Cook-Cook's stew, A Wellington, blood sausage. The rest were either generic enough for an idiot to guess or completely alien to the average wastelander.

Both travelers bent down and examined the treasure trove before them. As tempting as the aroma and visuals were, they kept their hands off the goods. There was no telling if the locals spiked any of it. They gave the food a brief sniff before a voice called out.

"Ah ah ah!" teased a French voice. "Wait for ze others first!"

Both of them turned to the far end of the table. There sat Karine, with Geiszler sitting to her right.

"Young lady, if you could take a seat zhere," Karine requested, gesturing towards a spot a couple of seats down from the Caster. Lyudmila reluctantly complied.

"Monsieur Grant, directly across from ton ami, if you will," Karine continued, pointing at the seat before the wolf.

Six did as told, sharing a glance with Lyudmila before turning back to the mistress. A minute later Paulina arrived with Liz, the former sitting between Lyudmila and Gieszler while the latter sat beside Six. He didn't like the way she was staring at him.

"Where's Larsson?" Karine asked.

"Running maintenance on his patron firearms," Paulina replied.

"At zhis hour?"

"Weapons are part of our religion, remember Madame?"

"I am well aware. Who else provides zhose men with ze funds for zhier bullets? Zhough I must confess, Micael isn't as solicitous as Larsson when it comes to guns."

"Perhaps he's reminiscing on his Gatling gun?"

Six's head perked up. Gattling gun? He thought to himself. The Sankta've already developed Gattling guns? Damn…

"Speaking of Micael, where is he?" Paulina continued.

"Waiting for ze guest of ze hour," Karine replied. "Ah! And here zhey come."

Everybody turned to see Micael guiding a woman adorned in tattered robes into the dining room. Six blinked as he noticed the pearl-white horns and the sword she was cradling in her arms. The woman's eyes scoured the room before they settled on Liz. Then she sent a piercing gaze towards Karine.

The death glare didn't phase the woman in the slightest. She hopped out of her chair and waltzed over to the Sarkaz, curtsying before her.

"Welcome, dame Shining," she said. "Welcome! We've heard so much about you and Ms. Liz over here. It is an honor to finally meet you, face to face."

Notes:

Ladies and gentlemen, I’m back! Apologies for the… long shore leave. A lot of things came up in life and I had a case of burnout. I dunno if it’s from COVID-19, ADHD, my perfectionist tendencies, or some combination of them and potentially more. I’ve had three or four separate versions for this chapter, but I ultimately settled with this version.

I wanted to cram a lotta things into this chapter, but some of it went either to the next one or the cutting room floor. So no ghosts coming back to haunt our heroes (at least, for this chapter). I was worried that y’all might burn out reading between 20-to-30K words too. ~Nervous chuckle~

Alright, with that outta the way, let’s get into the details. First of all, I’ve pushed the timeline up on the Terran side of things. It’s now set in 1099, so it’s after Ideal City and Guiding Light, with Il Siracusano, and Dorothy’s Vision closing in. I’ve brought Fiammetta out of Mostima’s shadow and gave her more time in the limelight… only to get flustered by Six, LOL. As for whether or not Six will find himself pulled into either of the latter events or those after, well… we’ll see.

Now, some of you might be concerned if I’ll shift the timeline again as content for Arknights enters the Global schedule. While I can’t deny that being a possibility again, I’ll try to refrain from doing so again. Especially if something happens to Crownslayer down the line. As much as I want to see Six interact with the Sui siblings (Dusk portaling him around for hitting on her and Nian hounding him for a spot in her B-movies. Maybe Ling eating away at his patience with her purple prose too.), I don’t want to do too much rewriting either.

And second, our heroes’ wardrobe. Six’s second outfit here is literally Phantom’s Focus outfit. I was gonna initially go with Dream Within a Dreammare for the dance, or at least the gasmasked clone’s outfit. I switched over to Focus because of the Trope’s involvement and… Karine’s plans for rising through their ranks. Lyudmila’s was modeled after a design from this fan animation ported from bilibili to YouTube. Party Night, I believe it was called. It at least used music from DAOKO. That outfit kinda gave me Zorro vibes the first time I paused the video and squinted my eyes.

Next chapter involves some dirty laundry, interrogation, and plenty of righteous fury. Stay tuned for ‘Skeletons in Our Closets’! I was almost done (or at least halfway, now dinner’s been pushed back. Things can change.), so hopefully I’ll be able to get it up before Valentine's Day. Will it involve some ship-teasing or flirtation, you might ask? Well, that'll depend on how things go down between two sinners. And whether or not I throw in another chick to stir up some chemistry in later chapters. Don’t worry, I have no plans for this becoming a harem. And frankly, I doubt Six can maintain one with his lousy Charisma.

Tootles!

Chapter 15: Skeletons in Our Closets

Summary:

We all have something to hide. Some of it out of embarrassment. And other times, well...

Date: October 8th, 1099

Location: Biovin Manor, Southern Ursus Border

Time: Evening

A curtain of tension descended upon the table as Shining sat at Karine's left, beside Liz and facing Gieszler. Micael flinched as the Sarkaz sat down, while the Spire Caster's trigger finger twitched ever-so-slightly. Karine and Paulina, by contrast, were all too happy to have her on board and started passing plates around. Only then did the men relax.

Understandably, the guests were wary of their meals. Six frequently scanned the food for chems with his Pip-boy, but each time it came up blank. Liz was the first one to take a bite. A nod from her was more than enough to convince Shining to join in. Six and Lyudmila exchanged a glance at each other before selecting their meals as well.

It all tasted like something from the Gourmet. Fresh, juicy, warm. As much as he admired their craftsmanship, he always loathed its atmosphere. He hadn't been to that place since a Frumentarii infiltrated the kitchen staff and tried to poison his last meal there.

Despite the immaculate cuisine, the guests didn't really cotton to the hosts. Shining's gaze bounced between Liz's shock collar and the senior hosts. Paulina was glaring at Lyudmila while Micael tried to avoid looking Six in the eye. For some reason, the Nuncio seemed nervous around him. Granted, Six tended to have an intimidating aura at times, but this didn't feel like a fear of him, though.

Karine had shocked Lyudmila plenty of times for her table manners during the feast. Six less so. Paulina showed her the proper posture, but the wolf-girl wasn't so receptive to her. Six mentally -and begrudgingly- thanked Marjorie for teaching him 'proper etiquette' during his visits to the Gourmand.

Karine cleared her throat and turned her attention to Shining.

"So, I trust zhat your journey here was bien?" she asked.

"You left enough breadcrumbs for me to follow," Shining replied. "Though your welcoming committee hadn't given me exactly the warmest reception."

Six snorted in agreement. Karine cast a glare at him before Micael butted in.

"Yeah, some of our staff haven't had the best experiences with Ursus or Sarkaz. It's only natural for them to have itchy trigger-fingers. They need people like Gieszler and me to keep 'em from strangling our guests. And each other."

"I'm surprised to find a Nuncio like yourself this far north. What brought you to Ursus?"

"I thought that I could enlighten the locals with the Law's blessings. Bringing them into its resplendence was a bigger challenge than I anticipated."

Six rolled his eyes. I wonder why? He thought to himself.

"Speaking of enlightenment," Karine said. "Gieszler here was wondering if you had any to offer him, Ms. Shining."

The Elafia let out a short huff.

"We could be having un proper conversation back in my laboratory," he retorted. "Vas it really necessary to drag me from my research?"

"Of course! We wouldn't want you to pass out from hunger again, would we?"

"What kind of research, if you don't mind me asking?" Shining asked.

"Psionics," Gieszler replied. "Karine and her guild have a vested interest in ze field. And from what vhier sources tell me, your clan has some experience vith zhat."

Shining didn't respond. When Gieszler spoke again, it was in a different tongue. It appeared to be a mixture of Latin and… something else. Something Six was unfamiliar with. He wasn't even certain if it was a tongue from the Old World.

The corners of Shining's mouth twitched into a faint frown. "Where did you learn those words?" she asked.

"From my academic days. His Majesty inspired his subjects to explore all avenues of Arts. One of mien professors studied and taught Sarkaz culture to us during my youth. Some of ze nobles turned vhier noses at your people's history and contributions, but not Herr Himmel. Nien, he saw potential vithin your people's tribes."

He continued his conversation with Shining in that alien tongue from here on out. While Six couldn't understand most of it, one word did crop up frequently- Noosphere. That was Earth's theoretical informational field, according to some ancient magazines from Big MT. A lot of people laughed at the notion in their scientific journals back home. Did Gieszler believe in that sort of thing?

Whatever it was, it certainly got under the pearl-haired Sarkaz's skin. The gestures he made towards Six and Liz weren't doing him any favors either. Shining also flinched slightly as the stag-man formed a halo with his hands at one point.

"-wo meet-?"

Six shook his head and turned towards Paulina.

"Sorry, did you say something?" Six asked.

"I said 'How did you two meet each other'?" Paulina explained.

Six narrowed his eyes. "Why the sudden interest?" he asked.

"It's uncommon to see a man such as yourself traveling with an Infected maiden," Karine explained. "Most people tend to steer clear of zhem."

"Magic rock cancer is the least of my people's problems," Six claimed. "We can't exactly be picky about our partners back home."

"You still haven't answered my question," Paulina pointed out.

Lyudmila shot a glance towards Six. He didn't need to be a Psyker to read her message; 'You handle this'.

"Tatiana was out laying a vigil for her dad in a necropolis," Six claimed. "I came across the ruins in search of shelter. Some vultures were looking to loot her pa's grave and we made a deal. I poached those assho-"

Six's collar shocked him yet again. Lyudmila snickered at his rotten luck. He grumbled before continuing.

"I poached the parasites in exchange for her guidance through this side of Terra."

"And what, praytell, brought you to our side of the globe?"

"Need-to-know basis."

Paulina frowned and turned to Lyudmila. "Ton père- ah, your father… how did he die, if you don't mind me asking?"

Lyudmila swallowed before answering. "He was caught in the Catastrophe that wrecked Chernobog."

"You mean when Reunion attacked?" Karine asked.

"...yeah."

A small 'hmm' escaped her lips. "Were you living there when it fell?"

"No. I left before that shi-"

Now it was Lyudmila's turn to get shocked. She caught Six smiling, indulging in Schadenfreude. She growled at him before clearing her throat.

"I left that cesspool behind before Reunion showed up."

"Hmm. And what exactly made it a 'cesspool' back zhen?"

"Political strife. That's all I'm going to say."

"Notzhing about ze Infected?" Karine asked, pointing at the obsidian lesions on her arm.

Lyudmila Instinicvey flinched and covered her scars.

"Do not worry, child," Karine said. "We harbor no ill will towards ze Infected. Not like ze savages up north."

"Really? I can't but notice how so many of your sla-"

Zap!

"-' Servants' are afflicted with Oripathy."

"Yet we also have non-Infected personnel among zhem," Karine pointed out. "Zhat portion of our workforce always complain about sharing rooms with ze Infected, but I do not pay them any mind. You must prove yourself if you are to rise through ze ranks in this house. Barking about your problems won't get you anywhere."

"But you must also carry conviction," Paulina added. "Something certain groups lack."

She cast a glare at Lyudmila. "Like Reunion."

"Paulina…" Karine cautioned.

"What? Am I not allowed to point out ze hubris of ze self-righteous? Zhose radicals proclaimed zhat zhey wished to end ze cycle of oppression for ze Infected, yet zheir methods suggested otherwise. Zheir hearts were filled with wrath and envy, and ze fires within only further fueled zhose around zhem. Zheir lack of faith made it easy for ze Ursus's Pale Dragon to exploit zhem."

Pale Dragon? Six thought. Why did that sound so familiar to him? He brushed that thought and her rant aside.

"Is this leading somewhere?" Six asked. "If so, just spit it out already."

"Salvation only comes to zhose with piety. Reunion fell because it was a band of heathens."

"Oh really?" Lyudmila retorted. "Where was your Law when Infected Sankta prayed for a chance to return to your homeland? Where was your Law when Liberi children were beaten to death by their neighbors and classmates in Iberia? Where was it when people were being rounded up by the Ursus as 'indentured servants' for their Originium mines and buried alive when those ran dry? Where was your Law when wise-guys butchered my uncle in Siracusa?!"

Both Sankta flinched as Lyudmila's rant ran on. Six could be imagining it, but he swore he saw something in Micael's eyes. Was it shame? A frown formed on the young angel's face while his counterpart looked down.

"Ze Law works in mysterious ways," Paulina claimed. "It offers solace for zhose with Oripathy, but it doesn't meddle in ze affairs of mortals."

"Your churches suggest otherwise."

"What ze churches do- especially zhose outside of Laterano- is zhier business. Not ze Law's."

"Then what is the business of the Law? What's the point of worshiping your god if it allows the Infected to be dragged kicking and screaming to a living hell? Why should the Infected look up to something that allows all sorts of atrocities to be committed right before its eyes? Do you even know what it's like to be Infected? Do you!?"

Everyone jumped as Lyudmila slammed her fist onto the table, throwing her food and drink around. She was glaring at Paulina, huffing and puffing like the Big Bad Wolf. The false angel from her seat lifted her skirt to the side.

There- festering above her ankles like tumors- were scraps of Originium. The Sankta girl cast a glare of her own towards Lyudmila.

"Enough to know how you and your Reunion amis nearly dragged two empires- if not half ze world- into open war," the false angel hissed. "And leave ze Infected as scapegoats. But zhen again, Reunion was founded by Ursus citizens. By barbarians. All you northerners do is salt ze earth and burn everything you touch. You know nothing about faith or loyalty. Only deceit and bloodshed."

"I wouldn't say all of ze northerners are savages," Karine said. "But zhey are far from innocent. I've seen zhier Infected Patrol units and what zhey do to zhier people. Yet no one stood up to zhem. Zhey just watched their friends and family be dragged off into the night. Watched all of zhier belongings and records be thrown into pyres. I know what's like to lose everything, especially your home and freedom."

You're one to talk about freedom. Six thought to himself.

"Tell me, who among our guests have heard of ze word 'Gaul'?"

Everybody's hands rose, one by one.

"Hmm, perhaps ze world hasn't forgotten about us yet," the mistress mused. "Almost seventy years ago, many regarded it as ze beating heart of Terra. Ze font of inspiration for all nations. But zhen Corsica I ignited a campaign of expansion, clashing with neighboring nations. It came to a head in 1030 when zhey united against him. Within two years, zhey devoured Gaul. Gorged on its remains and divvied up its territory amongst zhemselves.

"Ma mère was forced to marry an Ursus noble in the aftermath to salvage her prestige. Our property became ze Empire's overnight. And as the years went on, Gaul and its legacy began to disappear from ze minds of everyone. All zhat remains of Gaul are our arts, among other relics. Our culture, history, and language have been consigned to oblivion."

Karine rose from her seat. "I sympathize with ze Sarkaz and ze Infected. I really do. I lost my home when I was a little girl. I cling to what little of my heritage I can in modern society. And I would kill to see it all restored. We have more in common zhan many of you zhink, Madame Shining and Lyudmila."

Lyudmila and Six froze up at the last word. Beads of sweat rolled down the Lupo's forehead as a dark chuckle slithered out of Karine's throat.

"What? Did you zhink you fooled anybody here? Ursus and ze rest of ze world may have forgotten about you, but not the local Infected. Oh yes, many of Reunion's troops flocked to my doors in the aftermath of Chernobog. Some were looking for sanctuary, others in search of a new purpose. You left a sea of forlorn souls in your wake, Crownslayer."

There it was again. That name.

The next thing Six knew, Lyudmila was standing before Karine with her knife at her throat. Yet she didn't use the opportunity to slice it open, though. Or rather, she couldn't. She was paralyzed just as Six was earlier today. The shard on Karine's mechanized gauntlet was glowing blood-red.

Six and Liz rose onto their feet and opened their mouths, but their bodies too froze up. All any of them could do was stare (or growl, in the combatants' case). Karine cackled as Shining bolted off her chair and glared daggers at the Vulpo mistress.

"My my," she taunted. "You're just as swift as your former underlings say. It's hardly any wonder Talulah made you her right-hand woman, Crownslayer. Or do you prefer to go by 'Lyudmila' these days?"

She walked over to Six and brushed the back of her armored hand across Six's cheek. His hairs were standing on their ends as he sneered at her. She giggled at his reaction.

"Monsieur Grant, were you aware that you were traveling with ze deadliest assassin in Ursus?" she asked. "Or that she was an ex-terrorist?"

Six blinked as he processed her words. An assassin was one thing, but 'terrorist'? He didn't believe her words at first, but then his brain started compiling everything together.

It replayed faint memories of exposition from Croissant while on the road. Recounted the dead bodies and discarded garbs in Chernobog. Conjured up that poster of the horned woman- Talulah- in the city ruins. It recalled Chayka's talk of revolutionaries and Reese's banter with Lyudmila before they claimed the latter's head. Patriot's power armor loomed over Kovalenko as he regaled Six of Chernobog's downfall. All that data conflated with this dinner's revelations into a singular truth.

With a flick of a finger, the shackles of paralysis were lifted from everything above Six and Lyudmila's shoulders. The Courier turned his head to face his companion. A thousand questions swirled under his skullcap but his lips settled on one.

"Lyudmila…" Six finally asked. "Is it true?"

The wolf-girl just stared back at him. Her silence further fueled the maelstrom within.

"That militia you joined up with years ago. The one that Patriot merged his with. Was that Reunion?"

With the flick of Karine's finger, the paralysis field holding Six in place dissipated. He wasted no time in rushing towards Lyudmila and throwing her against the wall.

"Answer me dammit!"

Her invisible shackles were soon lifted as well. She pushed Six onto the table and bolted towards the exit. A crimson wall of light blocked her way, throwing her back and giving her a decent dose of volts along the way. Karine let out another cackle, clasping her hands together.

"Oh non non non," she teased. "No one is leaving zhis room. Not until I say so. It's been a long time since we've had a proper drama under zhis roof, and I'm in dire need of inspiration for my scripts. So go on ahead, mes petits oiseaux. Lash out."

Lyudmila rolled away in time to dodge a stomp toward her chest. As soon as she was upright, she unleashed a fury of kicks, punches, and chops onto the Courier. He managed to block and weather through the barrage of fisticuffs.

Thank House for that Stonewall perk, Six thought as he grappled with the wolf girl. "So… this all a 'yes' then?" he groaned as he struggled. "That everything I heard about them is true? That they're terrorists who drove Chernobog through a localized apocalypse? That they nearly started a world war? That they forced kids to kill each other? To eat each other?!"

Karine was writing in a notebook as Six ripped into Lyudmila. The lupo kicked him in the groin, but all she got out of him was a subtle flinch. Her sword, on the other hand, did force him to hop back and draw his own. Six parried his blade against hers with each swing, waiting for the chance to disarm her. When that opportunity finally came, he legswept her and ripped the sword from her hand. He had his to her throat as he pinned her to the floor.

"Alright, let's change the subject then. Who were their intended targets? The police? Army? Civilians? Non-Infected? Other Infected?"

She managed to break her legs free and threw him off of her. He lost his sword during his brief flight across the room and barely had enough time to search for it. Not when the she-wolf pounced on and pinned him against the wall. She was holding him down with one arm and reaching for his throat with the other. It took all of his strength to keep her mitts away from it.

"And what about you?" Six hissed, staining under her might. "Where do you fit into all of this? What was your role? Assassin? Sabatour? Spy? Executioner? How much of the city's blood is on your hands? How much did you allow your buddies to spill? What did you even hope to accomplish? Were you really trying to improve the lives of the Infected, or was it all just an excuse for vengeance?"

"You don't know anything," Lyudmila snarled back. "You're just like those pompous aristocrats. You don't know what it's like to be thrown to the wolves. You don't know what it's like to be reviled because of some rock-cancer. You don't know what it's like to be betrayed by your loved ones or manipulated by some ambitious sociopaths."

"I'm a Wastelander, honey. I've been backstabbed, strung along on puppet strings, and forced to contend with all sorts of lunatics and monsters since I clawed my way out of my god-damned grave. And I've met at least a dozen people who've been put through similar hells and back. What makes your case any different from ours? What the hell compelled you to-"

"Enough!" cried out a third voice.

Both travelers felt a faint breeze rush towards them before firm hands separated them. It was Shining.

"She may have concealed her past from you, but has she ever led you astray?" Shining asked. "Has she done you any wrong since you two started traveling together?"

Six didn't respond immediately. Her angle was fairly obvious, but he couldn't deny the logic. "...how long has it been since Chernobog fell?" he asked.

"Almost three years," Shining answered. "Plenty of time for her to reflect on her sins and atone. And I wager that you have your share engraved on your heart."

"But nothing like killing inno-"

Six's jaw froze up as a couple of memories flooded back to him. One of them was hazy, as if from a dream. A small box branded with an E surrounded by stars. Hellfire erupted from the earth while the winds flayed people alive. And a man from wells run dry glaring down at him.

The other memory emerged from the depths of a certain vault. A sadistic choice lay before him. Sacrifice a group of survivors for some crops. Or the opposite, dooming those who relied on the produce of the fields to survive. Anyone looking at this would've considered it a war between objectivism and compassion.

But neither one factored into his final decision that day.

Six lost the strength to keep his head up. Shining was right. As much as it pained him to admit it, he and Lyudmila were not that different. And from the look in the Sarkaz's eye, she had some skeletons in her closet as well.

"And his share of secrets too, I bet," said a gruff voice.

Everyone glanced at the crimson barrier to see a certain Sankta walking through it, sans helmet. The middle-aged man cast a sneer towards the Courier as he drew closer. It was then that Six noticed some of his own guns holstered around the man's armor. The irises in his eyes shrunk as he realized where this was going.

"Ah, Monsieur Larsson!" Karine greeted. "I was wondering when you'd arrive. Have you finished your-"

Larsson ignored his mistress and shoved Shinging and Lyudmila aside, paralyzing the latter for good measure. Six tried to resist the false angel, but he was swifter than he looked. His body from the neck down froze up and he was thrown against the wall by the brute.

Larsson then drew the MF Hyperbreeder Alpha and fired at the cake on the table. It erupted into an orange sheen and crumbled into dust. The party's attendees jumped at the sudden display of fireworks.

"Mon dui!" exclaimed Karine. "What is ze meaning of zhis?"

"Call it a tech demo," Larsson replied. "Where the hell did you get this?"

"I told you, Blackst-" Six gritted his teeth as the man kicked him in the abdomen.

"Bullshit. Blacksteel may have some advanced tech, but nothing as compact as this. And even if they did, they would've at least incorporated Originium into it. Micael and I haven't found a single strand in any of your gear. Not the energy weapons. Nor in the guns, let alone bullets. So let me ask you again, punk…"

The false angel gripped the younger lad's throat and gave it a not-so-subtle squeeze.

"Where in the Law's name did you find all these weapons?" he demanded.

Six's jaws clamped up as he thought of a cover story. "[Speech 80] From the ruins of some Columbian lab," he lied.

"Where in Columbia?"

"From the wastelands. There're at least a dozen abandoned sites with those babies."

"Bullshit. If that were the case, there'd be an arms race."

"There ain't because they're locked up tight. I managed to hack into their vaults, but I couldn't recover the data. I also changed their passwords to the front doors as a precaution while I was at it. Nobody else has been able to get inside since."

"So you have no idea how the gunpowder or batteries are made?"

"Nope. The machines just spit it all out."

"Did those same machines grant you cybernetics?" inquired a new voice.

Everyone's head turned to Liz.

"Come again?" Micael asked.

"He has cybernetic implants within his body. I thought I sensed foreign materials and currents when I examined him earlier. And something else. Remnants of a phantom sickness, right down to his core. I want to say it might've altered him to some degree, but I've never met someone like Mr. Grant before."

Six blinked. She was able to sense his cybernetics with her Arts? And 'phantom sickness'? Was she talking about gamma radiation?

Liz slowly rose from her seat and walked over to the Courier. Larsson put himself between her and him, sneering at the Sarkaz.

"Back off, devil," he said. "This is between me and the defiler, not you."

"This involves my patient," Liz replied. "I have every right to be part of this conversation. Mr. Grant, where did you get your implants?"

"From the labs," he lied. "There was an automated personality running a medical facility. She offered them in exchange for Columbian currency."

"Did it also filter out all of the Originium in your blood?"

"In my-? I'm not Infected, if that's what you're implying."

"I'm not. But every living creature has some semblance of Originium in their bodies. In their blood. Even their… what's that phrase scientists use?"

"[Science 40] Which one? Genetics? DNA?"

"Something like that. Yet you don't have a single milligram of Originium in your body."

Shining's jaw shifted slightly at this revelation. Lyudmila and Paulina, by comparison, nearly had their eyes pop out.

"Mr. Grant, you are unlike anyone I've ever encountered," she continued. "You resemble an Aegir, yet you do not suffer from dry skin like most would. Nor do you possess the physical attributes of any other race. You claim to be from the Western wastes, yet you're devoid of any originium in your system. And despite your medical skills, you never realized that that same substance resided within all of us?"

"Maybe my sources were severely outdated," Six countered. "Or maybe certain factions and countries omit such facts from their texts because they're afraid of it challenging their status quo."

"Even a nation as brutal and stagnate as Ursus wouldn't conceal such information from their people. Not when certain groups like the Infected Patrol Unit rely heavily on it."

Liz walked past Larsson and looked Six straight in the eye. "Mr. Grant, are you even from this world?"

Silence fell across the room. The gears in Six's head ground to a halt as it processed her question, paralyzing him. For a brief moment, his brain had forgotten every bodily function. Thought, breathe, movement. A small part of him wanted to let out a nervous laugh, to call her crazy. Another wanted to clock her and run like hell, but he was still trapped here with everyone. A scoff from Larsson got them spinning again.

"Preposterous," he said. "I knew devils were liars, but madwomen? That's a new low, even for her kind."

"I don't know," Gieszler said. "You said zhose veapons had no Originium in vhem. Were you able to identify ze propellent or power sources?"

Larsson shook his head.

"Vhen perhaps ve shouldn't disregard her words so quickly. After all, our eyes and ears have touted her medical prowess when vhey reported ze Followers' presence. And if mein time under der Hexenkönig has taught me anyvhing, its vhat anyvhing is possible."

Larsson scowled. "No," he retorted. "No, it has to be some new propellent from Columbia. Those paranoid meddlers have always been sticking their noses into everyone's business since they left Victoria. They've dedicated many projects to replicating Laternao's holy light."

"Holy light or monopoly?" Six asked with a snort. "That's rather rich, coming from the therocrat whose country merely 'discovered' firearms. Not invent them."

Larsson's response was to clock Six. The impact threw him against the dining table, throwing food and drink all around. It also seemed to have released him from the paralysis field.

"Larsson!" Karine scolded.

A chuckle escaped from Six's throat. "You know, I've always wondered where your people got their guns," he continued. "Did y'all happen across a UFO filled with them, or did y'all 'appropriate' those weapons from another group of people and slap a patent on them?"

Larsson charged at Six, but he rolled out of the way. The Courier let out a laugh as he crashed through the table, burying himself under its debris.

"Silence, graverobber!" Larsson snarled as he wiped the mess off of his face.

"At least I own up to that title. You Laterans, by comparison, strike me as assholes with a messiah complex. You false angels built an entire religion around guns to justify hoarding them from the rest of the world, didn't you? Tech that never belonged to you. Are you sure your people aren't the real graverobbers here? Or do you have a 'morally superior' synonym for such a word?"

Larsson grabbed Six by the collar of his shirt and aimed the barrel of his SMG under his chin.

"Larsson, stand down!" Karine ordered as she marched toward them.

"I've had enough of this defiler's sacrilege," Larsson hissed. "It's one thing to collude with devils. But to lend an ear to such slander, to blasphemy? No. I don't care what plans you have in store for this thief, I-"

Suddenly all the speakers sputtered and failed. Karine blinked and fiddled with some remote, trying to get it to play again. She cursed in French and took out a smartphone. Yet when she dialed a number, all she got was static. Whatever heat the house had quickly dissipated and gave way to the cold of night.

Six, Lyudmila, and Liz felt their collars unfasten themselves and dropped to the floor with a metallic 'thud'! The forcefield that contained the 'guests' twinkled out of existence before they hit the ground. Karine stared at the three of them all bug-eyed as the situation dawned on her.

Six activated Implant GRX and grabbed Larsson's SMG just as he pulled the trigger. Karine ducked under the table as bullets soared past her and the manor's other occupants. The two played tug of war with it until Six heard a distinct 'click'. Lyudmila used the opportunity to fling scolding hot tea into Larrson's eyes.

While he was blind, Six ripped the SMG out of his hands and started punching away at his skull. When he lifted his arms to block the blows, Six just threw him into the wall and then smashed his head against the floor. He knelt and swiped all the weapons that bastard brought with him; A Light Shining in Darkness, his Plasma Defender, and the MF Hyperbreeder Alpha.

To his disappointment, none of them carried armor-piercing rounds. Then again, Larsson's head was already exposed. A few shots from A Light Shining in Darkness with VATS were more than enough to put him down. He barely had enough time to search the body before he came under fire.

A blast of Arts collided with him and threw the Infected gals back. He scowled as he spied a certain Spire Caster charging up another attack. He was prepared to vault over the broken table when a bubble shield appeared out of nowhere and blocked the shot.

Six turned to see an icy blue energy swirling around Liz. He snapped his head back to the enemy as Karine reemerged and threw a bolt of Arts herself, but it only fared as much as Gieslzer's did. Her response was a growl and a charge forward, claw first. Lyudmila rushed ahead to meet her, phasing through her and attempting to backstab her. She caught the blade with her mechanized gauntlet and crushed it in her palm. The ex-terrorist did a doubletake before swerving to the side as the mistress fired another blast from that same device.

Paulina meanwhile channeled her Arts into her blade and clashed with Six. He could feel a sliver of its energy slipping past Liz's shield and onto his body. It carried the same numbing sensation as those dancers from last night. He tried to draw one of his sidearms to shoot her kneecaps out, but she never gave him the chance to do so.

He didn't need to. Not when Shining snuck up behind her and bonked her on the head with the hilt of her sword.

"This isn't the ideal place for a prolonged firefight," Shining said. "We need to leave, now!"

Six nodded in agreement. "Mila, smoke!" he called out.

Lyudmila was taking cover behind the remains of the dining table when Six called out. She shouted back in Ursine over the the gunfire of Micael's blunderbuss before spewing out her smokescreen. The hosts coughed and gagged while their guests made a quick escape. Karine cursed in Gaulish as the gray shroud dissipated.

"Get our defense systems online," she ordered. " I am not losing either of mes Diamants De Sang tonight!"

---

The journey back to the lobby wouldn't have been so long if it wasn't for all the security crawling about. Knights, dancers, and the fanbase in navy blue were all waiting for them around every corner. On the bright side, they were kind enough to provide Lyudmila with a replacement for her sword. On the downside, fighting through them was a total slog.

After cutting through their third or fourth fireteam, their ears picked up a strange 'zap' ahead. Something that the fighters recognized. A familiar metal orb was floating in the entry hall amidst dust piles. It turned to greet them in binary.

"ED-E?" Six said in disbelief. "That really you?"

The construct bobbed up and down with excited beeps, followed by more coy tunes. Six ignored its snide comments and just hugged the robot. The eyebot chirped some somber notes in response and brushed against its user.

"I thought I lost you, buddy," Six said. "They said thier abomination of science scrapped you and I…"

Six shook his head and backed away. "How long have you been online?" he asked.

ED-E chimed back at the Courier in a matter-of-fact tone, glancing toward Shining. Six blinked in disbelief.

"What, Maiden-In-Black here repaired you this morning?"

"More like I speed up its automated repairs with my Arts," Shining clarified. "It and my party have been scoping out the manor grounds before my 'appointment' with the mistress."

Six turned back to ED-E. The eyebot beeped back with positive tunes, followed by more expository ones.

"So you're the one who took out the power, huh?" Six translated. " Looks like I owe you both one."

"And our infiltrator," Shining added. "They mapped out the building and reported the generator's location to us. Hmm, they should have rendezvoused with us by now."

"Think something happened to them?"

"I pray not, but with a company as devious as this one…"

A flash of red and the chime of Arts interrupted their reunion. Another crimson field cut off their exit while metallic shudders slid down and blocked the windows. The hallway was drenched in a red hue as the emergency lights flickered on.

Six stepped back and fired the MF Hyperbreeder Alpha at both barriers. They soaked up all of its blasts. ED-E tried firing with its Tesla Cannon. Same results. Six scowled as he turned back to the party.

"Dammit," he cursed. "Probably gonna need to find a terminal or that field's power source. Did that spy of yours report finding either one?"

Shining shook her head. Six sighed.

"Something tells me splitting up ain't the best idea right now. Where should we start?"

Shining simply motioned for everyone to follow. Their first stop was the ballroom-slash-theater. The emergency lights provided limited visibility in the manor, along with a trail. During the trip, Six requisitioned Gehenna from ED-E. Well, Gehenna 2.0, actually.

He built a spiritual successor to the original weapon based on schematics from the New England Commonwealth. Instead of a showerhead hose linking a lawnmower blade to a motorcycle's gas tank, it was a wakizash with a small propane canister attached to the blunt end. A much more efficient design compared to the original one, in the Courier's honest opinion. The only issue was that he wasn't certain if propane even existed on Terra. Best to conserve it as much as possible (at least until he finds a suitable alternative).

Their destination had already seen some renovation by the time they arrived. All of the furniture and partyware had been replaced with theater seats. The bodies and carnage from earlier had also been removed, but Six could see faint stains here and there. The box seats and balconies surrounding them lacked emergency lighting, cloaking their contents in the darkness. His Pip-Boy hadn't picked up any movement since they arrived, but that hardly put him at ease.

He toggled VATS and it highlighted a plethora of new targets. All of them appeared to be gift boxes, but he was fairly certain they were explosives.

"My Pip-Boy's picking up some funky signatures ahead," Six warned. "Could be landmines."

Shining shook her head. "Not regular landmines," she replied. "Arts Units. I can sense their energies from here."

"Can any of y'all defuse them?" Six asked. "I know my way around explosives, but magic's outside of my purview."

"I can." Shining turned to Lyudmila. "What about you, young lady?"

Lyudmila nodded. She took the left side while Shining took the right. Six and ED-E stayed behind with Liz, the former calling out each 'gift's' position with VATS. The woman, however, stared at him until all the Arts Units were defused.

As soon as the last one was defused, all hell broke loose. First another wall of light flickered into existence, blocking off the exit. Then several of the fanatics in blue shambled from backstage and flooded the main floor. Bolts flew out of the boxes, pushing everyone back to the hard light field.

Six tried to lock onto the hidden crossbowmen, but the only people VATS registered were those on the ground level. He scowled as he and his Companions repelled the Derisive Audience.

"Everyone up to the balconies," Six called. "We'll have the high ground and some breathing room if we take care of the snipers."

Everyone nodded in agreement and ventured up the stairs. Some more of the boys in blue were waiting for them, but they were cut down by blade and laser. That caught the attention of the cloaked snipers and they too joined in. While everyone had to scramble to find cover, the enemy's archery gave away their position. Six and ED-E tried peppering them with lasers, but their beams seemed to either miss or phase through them. And there wasn't a holographic target in sight to dispel their cloak.

Lyudmila bolted from her cover and straight toward the sniper's positions. Six called out to her, but she didn't heed his warnings. Shining channeled her Arts toward the Lupo, deflecting as many bolts as she could. To his surprise, their cloak failed as soon as she got close.

The snipers were goons in white masks and Ghillie suits. The same type of masks he saw in the ruins of Chernobog. Lyudmila let out a cry of 'Predateli!' as she cut the first one down. The team circled the balconies after her, with the offworlders providing covering fire against the Derisive Audience while she went on a hacking spree. She flicked off the blood after the last sniper- now coated in two shades of red- fell.

"Is that all of them?" Shining asked Six.

The Courier checked his HUD and turned to ED-E for feedback. A positive beep confirmed their findings.

"Of this wave? Yeah. Vitals have flatlined and our trackers are blank. But no telling when the next one's gonna crop up. Let's find the generator and get the fuck outta here already."

Everyone nodded in agreement as they returned to ground level and gave it a sweep. Lyudmila and Liz went to check on the backstage while Six and Shining inspected the stage. The maiden in black walked up to the boxes while Six inspected the stage. ED-E patrolled the area while the fleshlings searched the area.

It wasn't long before he discovered a hatch. Unfortunately, there wasn't a tab or anything to grab onto to open it. He assumed that it could only be accomplished from the other side. He walked around the ballroom until he found a hidden panel in the Opera pit. Six tugged it open and crouched down, then slipped into the darkness.

He expected himself to be besieged by the enemy as soon as his Pip-Boy's light flickered on. To his surprise, he found nothing. No goons or monsters, no landlines, no tripwires or plates. Nothing.

He spotted a crimson glow at the center of the trap room. He slowly crept over to the generator, yet he found no more surprises. Six braced himself for an explosion as he flipped the switch.

Nada. He let out a soft exhale through his nose, but then something occurred to him. If he could easily shut this thing down, then the enemy could just as easily undo his work.

[Melee 50] It didn't take long for him to notice the cables on the floor. Six took out his Gehenna 2.0 and hacked away at them, slicing them into a dozen pieces. He smiled at his handiwork. That should buy them more time.

The Courier made his way over to the hatch and popped back up onto the stage like a bat outta hell. He gave everyone quite the scare as he made his grand entrance, causing Lyudmila to draw her own sword.

"Chert poberi!" she sneered. "I could've lobbed your head off!"

"Nah, I'd dodge your swings," Six laughed as he got onto his feet.

"Have you honestly forgotten our first meeting?"

"You had a smokescreen, bitch."

ED-E emitted some angry chirps as its User recounted that day. Lyudmila snorted and rolled her eyes.

"Did you find at least anything?"

"Found a backup generator and hacked its cables up. Hopefully, that'll bring the-"

He stopped midsentence as his motion-tracker flared up. Two enemy signatures, but he didn't see anyone nearby. Either they were hiding in the trap room or-

He snapped his neck towards the catwalk and was greeted with an orange blast of Arts. Rings of solid light ensnared Six, restraining him. Next thing everyone knew, it was raining cats and dogs.

Well, spotlights and sandbags. ED-E vaporized anything that tried to land on its User's skull while everyone else dodged the debris. The impromptu shower ended as soon as Six broke free and toggled VATS.

Two halos gleamed in the dark. He locked onto the center of mass of their owners and fired. None of the lasers hit their mark. ED-E fared just as poorly with his attempts.

One of the assailants tried to squash him with a plunging attack, but another dose of GRX prevented that outcome. His would-be assassin turned out to be Paulina. She shouted something in French at him before flinging Arts at him. ED-E provided some covering for Six as he dodged her sorcery.

Micael tried pouncing on Lyudmila a moment later, but she dodged his drop attack just as swiftly. His blunderbuss, however, was quick enough to ensnare her in those damn rings. The Nuncio marched over to her and raised ax head above his head.

Something deflected the blade's descent, though. It was Shining. Micael blinked and swung again, but the maiden in black knocked the weapon out of his hands. All without drawing out her blade.

Lyudmila broke free when the Sankta scuttled after his firearm. Six was too busy dodging Artsfire to admire Shining's handiwork. Paulina was howling like a banshee as she flung her Arts, probably throwing all sorts of profanities at him. She tried to move in for a melee with the Courier, but ED-E's lasers kept her at bay. Liz stayed behind and cast her bubble shields on everyone.

That put her in the crosshairs of both Sankta. Paulina fired a couple of Arts Bolts at Liz, stunning her. Shining bolted to her defense, but she and Lyudmila were caught in energy rings. The Infected Sankta moved in to finish the frail Sarkaz off, but Six blocked the killing blow.

Micael reloaded his blunderbuss as he danced around ED-E's beams, then ensnared him as well. The eyebot attempted to blast its way out, but all its Tesla Cannon did was sputter. The eyebot emoted some aggravated bleeps.

Liz slowly rose back onto her feet, still dazed by Paulina's Art's. Micael had reloaded and took aim at her with his blunderbuss, channeling his own into the relic.

Six wasn't about to let that happen. He activated his GRX implant again and disarmed Paulina, then threw her between Liz and Micael. The bitch cried out as the shrapnel tore into her flesh and Arts strangled her. Micael called out her name and ran to her side, dispelling the rings and cradling her in his arms. Shining in turn rushed to Liz's side.

"Are you alright!?" Shining asked.

Liz nodded. "I am, but…"

Everyone followed her finger toward the two Sankta. Paulina was coughing out blood (in an overly dramatic manner) while she wiped the tears off of Micael's face. Both of them were conversing in Latin while Micaela attempted to stop the bleeding. To everyone's surprise, Paulina pulled her face towards Micael's face and locked her lips with his. Though stunned for a moment, he returned the gesture and gently laid her back down.

Her eyes lost their light as she went limp. Micael let out an anguished howl, raging at the heavens. His halo and 'wings' dimmed as turned into a vortex of neutral hues, then splintered into holographic shards. Demonic horns burst from his skull while an impish tail sprouted from his back. Everybody's jaw dropped as the young man mutated.

"What the fuck…?" Six uttered. He looks just like-

Micael snapped his head towards the Courier, glaring daggers into his eyes, into his soul. He reloaded his patron gun and pulled the trigger, yet it didn't fire. He fiddled with the blunderbuss before throwing it aside.

"You monster!" he screeched. "Murderer! You killed her and yet I have to pay for your sins! I'll tear out your soul-!"

Lyudmila wasn't going to let him have his shot at vengeance. She grabbed and slit his throat mid-rant and threw him aside. He gurgled and gasped as he glared back at them, trying to stop the blood from pouring out. Then his gaze lingered back to Paulina, and he embraced her with his free arm. He expired shortly afterward.

Six couldn't help but frown as he stared down at the bodies. It almost looked like something out of Romeo and Juliet. That frown mutated into a scowl as he collected their weapons and knelt to loot the couple's pockets. Shining's hand stopped him.

"Wait," she cautioned. "That woman's Infected."

"And dead," Six pointed out. "So what?"

"When an Infected individual expires, the cell-originium assimilation rate of their bodies escalates. Therefore they become vectors for Oripathy."

She pointed at Paulina's ankle. Earlier the Originium shards on here were more or less flakes. Now they were bulbous as hell, with a faint glow.

"That young man might've scrapped himself on one of those shards," Shining continued. "For all we know, he too could be a vector."

Both Sarkaz knelt beside the recently departed, channeling their Arts into them. Already he could see the black veins and shimmer diminishing under their incandescence. Shining then turned to Lyudmila.

"You have experience in disposing of Infected bodies?" she asked.

Lyudmila gave her a grim nod.

"Then you know what must be done."

"Want me to help?" Six asked.

"Not without proper protection," Shining replied. "Liz can alleviate Oripathy symptoms with her Arts, but they don't grant immunity to infection."

Six respectfully ignored Shining's advice as he dragged Micael by his collar into Lucian's room. Lyudmila followed behind home with Paulina, just as disapproving as everyone else. Shining tore down the curtains and brought those along. Six dropped the Fallen Sankta onto the floor and looted his corpse. He had some keys, a keycard, pellets, and (what Six presumed to be) some type of propellant in a pouch. He was about to add the latter to his inventory when Liz stopped him.

"Wait," she said.

"What now?" Six scowled.

"That propellent might be active."

"Active? As in 'about to explode?"

"Or at least on the verge of burning into your skin. Both scenarios can lead to infection."

Six grumbled as she took it out of his hands and into the wardrobe. She placed it in a compartment and shut it back. Shining and Lyudmila, meanwhile covered the bodies (though not before the latter looted them). Then they covered up all the vents and taped over some cracks. When the party left the room, Lyudmila stuffed some more shreds of cloth into the keyhole and every gap in the door.

"Find anything useful on the Sankta bitch?" Six asked.

Lyudmila flashed several items. A wallet, keychain, some knives, and-

A pistol? It bore a striking resemblance to the .45 handguns of Zion. Odd. Didn't Paulina say she was denied the chance to get her own gun? Maybe she looted this one off of somebody.

Six reached for the gun, but Lyudmila holstered it before he could examine it further. "Haven't you already got enough?" she asked.

"I can always sell 'em," Six retorted. "And I'd like to study that when I can."

"Then it'll be safe with me in the meantime."

Six scowled. If it weren't for the fact that the Sankta were gatekeeping their weapons with magic, he'd be worried about getting shot in the back. Speaking of which, he turned to Shining.

"Did your spy happen to find any armories while they were snooping around?" Six asked.

"Some," Shining replied. "Two outside, at least one inside. Why? Looking to expand upon your current collection?"

"More like reclaiming my previous one," Six replied. "I'd like to find it before we leave this place. And our bounty."

"Bounty?"

"A certain brute's head. Hopefully, it- or at least his dental work- is still intact."

Six led the group back to the lobby, scanning their surroundings with his eyes and Pip-Boy. No sign of the mistress or the stagman thus far, but he did pick up movement on his HUD. Right near the exit. He held up a hand and scoped it out.

The source of the blimps was right out the door. With the security system disabled, he had a clear view of the outside world. Or at least as clear as the night sky and red smog would allow it. He saw shapes weaving through the crimson haze, laughing at the top of their lungs as they swung their weapons at each other. Two of them slammed into the window with a hard thud, trying to choke each other with a mad grin on their faces.

They wore the same rags as he had this morning. And from the looks in their eyes, they were both drugged. The ladies and eyebot arrived on the scene in time to see one of the 'servants' strangle the other with a clothesline while a knight slit his own throat. They all took a step back.

"Well, so much for the front door," Six grumbled. "Anyone any suggestions? 'Cus I doubt we have enough candle wax for wings or gliders. And ED-E sure as hell can't fly or carry a human."

ED-E emitted some offended tunes at Six.

"Aristocrats like Karine usually have a hidden escape route on their property," Shining suggested. "Or at the very least gas masks for situations like this."

Six glanced down at his Pip-Boy. There were still some blank spots on the local map. He was about to pick a spot to investigate when everyone heard something echo in the distance. Something… metallic? Six turned to the ladies, just as perplexed as he was. He motioned for them to follow as they crept toward the source.

They followed the sounds back to the basement. Something was banging away, but they couldn't see what. Then Six's motion tracker picked up a blimp. It was coming from the end of the room, but VATS found nothing. Unless…

Six began feeling around the room, moving and peeping inside every barrel, groping everything from candles to wine bottles. Then his fingers brushed against a loose brick. He yanked it out and discovered a card reader behind it. Six checked around for similar bricks and found a retinal scanner. He motioned everyone over.

"Anyone happen to nab any Sankta eyeballs during all this commotion?" Six asked.

Everyone shook their heads while ED-E broadcasted negative beeps. He sighed.

"Is someone out there?" called out a voice.

Everyone bounced away from the wall and raised their weapons.

Wait a minute. Something about that voice seemed familiar.

"Nunes?" Six called out.

The voice behind the wall stuttered. "Um, yes!" they shouted back. "Squire Nunes, sir! I was perusing our wares when-"

"There's no longer any need for the charade, Margaret," Shining interrupted. "You're among friends again."

Lyudmila froze up as soon as that name left the Sarkaz's lips. Six tilted his head. She hadn't looked that scared since-

The Courier blinked. "Wait, as in the champion of the last Kazimierz Major?"

Shining nodded. "I had her infiltrate the guards' ranks after your friend and I surveyed the manor grounds," she explained before returning to the wall. "How did you get stuck in there, old friend?"

"I was looking for Liz's staff when I saw a Sankta exit from a hidden room," Margaret explained. "And slipped inside before it sealed itself back up. Unfortunately, it turned out that you need a certain key to enter and leave this space. I've been trying to tear the door down from this side, but I've hardly made a dent with this mace or the weapons in here."

"You couldn't have used your Arts?"

"Not with all these munitions and Arts units around me."

Shining allowed a 'hmm' to slip past her lips. "Six, keycards."

Six gave an acknowledging grunt as he handed them over. A green light lit up as she inserted a card into the reader, but nothing else happened. Shining furrowed her brows as she pocketed them.

"It would seem that we're in dire need of good eyes," she concluded. "Stay put while we fetch some."

A chuckle echoed from the armory as the party departed. "And people say you don't have a sense of humor," Margaret called back.

---

Their first stop was the dining hall. None of the hosts- living or dead - were nowhere to be found. They didn't see either of Larrson's eyes either. At Six's suggestion, they decided to search the music room next. While he was leading them to their next destination, his mind wandered back to another Sankta. Or rather, two of them.

Several of Terra's races sported horns but they generally resembled those corresponding to Earth's fauna. Micael's horns, on the other hand, didn't. They looked more demonic, like those of a Sarkaz. The tail he grew only further solidified this. But what intrigued him the most was that he somewhat resembled another Sankta back there. A certain chick with azure hair.

It didn't take long for them to reach the music room. Six's motion tracker wasn't picking up movement, so they had free reign to explore and ransack the place. Then he heard that chime again. He closed his eyes as he shifted all of his processing power toward his ears. He slowly crept through the room as he followed the noise, opening his eyes when the sound was directly above him.

He found himself staring at the end of the hall. He flipped his Pip-Boy's light on and shone it around the area, scanning for any signs of a door or hatch.

[Perception 7] A patch of wallpaper stuck out to him. It seemed fresher in comparison to the rest, devoid of the scars of time. He traced a hand across it, feeling for anything. It eventually found and pressed a hidden button, causing the wall to split open with a metallic groan. An elevator laid itself bare before him.

He turned to see Lyudmila and Shining running towards him. He pointed back to the elevator with a thumb.

"Think it still works?" he asked.

"Perhaps," Shining said. "But I wouldn't be so quick ride in a potential coffin. Let's check the power first."

Six walked inside and glanced at the car operating panel. All of the buttons had a dim glow, while the floor indicator flickered. Six stomped on the floor covering and waited for a moment. Seeing as that the cab hadn't fallen yet, he motioned for the party to step inside. Once everyone was in, Six pressed the button for the next floor. With a slight jerk, the doors slid shut and the cab rose upward.

It was a bit cramped in here. Shining and Six were at the back, Liz leaning against the former. Lyudmila had her back against Six while ED-E hovered over her head. Her nose was drowning in all that perfume and cologne on him. She could barely pick up the stench of iron amongst themselves, let alone their scents. The redhead's wolf tail rubbed against Six's leg, stiff as a log.

At least that's the only stiff thing between the two of us. Lyudmila thought to herself.

Darkness and that chime were the first things to greet them as the doors opened back up. Six held up a hand as he checked his motion tracker yet again, then VATS.

Two souls were up ahead, each in the furthest corners. One on a stretcher, the other in a chair. It was hard to tell if they were strapped in, conscious, or what. At the very least his HUD displayed their vitals in orange, so they weren't hostile.

Yet. He put his finger to his lips before taking the lead with ED-E. His eyes scanned for traps while his ears guided him toward the source of the noise. Eventually, his hand brushed against something metallic. Something thin. A spike?

He scanned the room with VATS again. Again, the John Does were marked as friendlies. He risked turning on his Pip-Boy's light and beheld something pulled out of Weird Tales.

There, sitting on a lab table, was the severed head of Ingra. It was wired into an iron block with an Originium shard, probably an Arts unit. Whatever color his face had was reduced to an ashen gray. His eyes and the corners of his lips gave off spasmodic twitches, yet the former were as dull as stone.

That wasn't the only item on the table. There were jars with preserved brains, chemicals, scattered papers, more Arts units, and some sort of crystal ball. A ball wired into one of those Sarkaz alters. Liz and Lyudmila took a step back and covered her mouth.

"Chto... kakogo cherta?" the Lupo uttered in disbelief.

Six couldn't help but agree with her. He snapped his fingers in front of the grunt's head. No response, or at least changes to its current behavior. Six turned to Shining for answers, but all he got was a look of revulsion. What the hell was that old goat doing? Turning Ingra into this world's version of a Robobrain? Or auditioning for the role of Herbert West?

There was a lamp nearby. Six activated and waved it around, shedding as much light in the room as possible. There was a chemistry set, a sink, a chalkboard littered with equations and chemical formulas, a skeleton-prop of an unidentified race, shelves with more chemicals and brains, and canisters with Originium shards.

The John Does were both strapped to their respective places. The one in the chair was an Ursus goon in blue, yet he didn't seem as gaunt as his colleagues. There was a ring of Originium above his head, bringing to mind electric chairs from Pre-War prisons.

The man on the stretcher had pale skin and pointed ears. He seemed to be malnourished from where Six was standing, but he needed to get closer to confirm this. He also couldn't help but notice the fangs sticking out too. They looked natural from where he was standing.

Six turned back to the elevator. There was a fancy coffin beside it, probably a prop from a horror movie. It appeared to be locked. There was also a sculpture with Bighorner horns flanking the other side.

He set the lamp back down and took a seat at the desk. He picked up some papers and tried to analyze them, but they were written in German. He did notice a couple of words frequently cropping up on them; Sarkaz and Noosphere. The Sankta also received an honorable mention here and there. Shining helped herself to them too, gladly taking each one from Six's hands. Judging from the look in her eyes, she was far more familiar with the dialect than he was.

A few books were lying about. Some seemed to be scientific journals, One a textbook on the Sarkaz, another about the Sankta, and…

Six raised an eyebrow at the third one's title 'Ein Geisterführer zum menschlichen Gehirn'. He was even more intrigued by the symbol on the cover. A rook chess piece within a triangle. There were some words underneath, but they long since faded. He didn't see the author's name anywhere either.

Six flipped through the pages of the book, blinking at its contents. Many of the images in it were brains. Human brains if his understanding of neurology was up to date. Each chapter seemed to focus on the neurology of a certain race.

What was even stranger, though, was the Sarkaz tab. Not only was it the largest chapter of the book, but it was also split into several sections. Gargoyle, Banshee, Goliath, Vampire, Cyclops. Subraces, maybe? There were plenty of sticky notes within that chapter, along with the ones for the Sankta, Oni, and Anasa.

Everyone jumped as the John Does began thrashing about. Shining grabbed the lantern and waved it around. Both lab rats were now awake, with bags under their eyes and agony etched on their faces.

"Poh… pomogi mne…" the Ursus croaked out.

Lyudmila rushed to the Ursus's side, with Shining following suit. Six and Liz turned their attention to the pale man while ED-E stayed where it was. The fanged stranger had these scars on his forehead. They didn't appear to be from bullet wounds like Six's. Rather they looked like-

"Liz, does this look like a lobotomy to you?" Six asked.

Liz nodded and turned to Shining. "Are there any signs of similar procedures on the other patient?"

"Negative," Shining called back. "But this one appears to be in a state of delirium. How's yours?"

Six and Liz glanced back at the Vampire. He just stared at them as saliva dripped down his cheek.

"He's a fucking vegetable," Six reported back.

That was a bit premature on his part. The haze in the Vampire's eyes suddenly dissipated as he honed his gaze toward Six.

"Teeh… Teekaz?" he droned. "Teekaz?"

Both of them jumped back as he spoke. "I stand corrected."

Liz approached the Vampire and leveled her face to his, speaking to him in their tongue. He didn't seem to register her presence as he stared up at the Courier. His brows furrowed as he sniffed toward Lyudmila and arched an eyebrow. Then he turned back to Six and snarled.

"Eindringling…" the pale man growled. "Eindringling!"

Everyone heard a couple of beeps sound off. The clamps restraining both men suddenly sprung open. Each one bolted toward a combatant and tackled them to the ground. The man in blue pummeled away at Lyudmila while the pale one tried to sink his fangs into his neck.

Six could barely hold him back as ED-E flew to his defense and opened fire. Liz took a step back as a crimson glow consumed and disintegrated him. Six coughed as he bounced onto his feet and whipped the dust off.

Meanwhile, Shining managed to pry the man in blue off of Lyudmila, allowing her to slit his throat. Like the attendees at the earlier party, he went out with a smile. The she-wolf and Sarkaz grimaced for a moment before shaking it off.

"Everyone alright?" the pearl-haired woman asked.

Everyone else nodded. "Who the hell let the mad dogs out?" Six asked.

"Dogs?" Lyudmila asked back.

Six's brows furrowed. "You know, hounds?"

Suddenly the lights flickered to life. The Courier and assassin scanned the room for hostiles, or at least the hand that flipped the light switch. Then they heard stones grinding and spun their heads towards the sculpture. It stomped its way between the party and the elevator as the coffin door swung open.

And out the box waltzed Gieszler. Six held a hand up as ED-E chirped in an alarmed tone.

"No disintegrations," he mouthed to the eyebot.

"You kept me vaiting, Dame Confessarius," he greeted. "I vas vundering if you vould ever show."

The two sinners turned with confused looks, then to the Sarkaz. Shining's brows had furrowed.

"That word means nothing to me," she coldly retorted.

"Your tone suggests otherwise. I vas hoping zhat I could give you un tour under… better circumstances."

"It's a cesspool of atrocities."

"Science is neither clean nor messy. It simply is. Ze Troupe vanted to streamline zhier indoctrination process. Or at least imprint zheir scripts into ze actors' brains."

"Troupe?" Six asked.

"Ja, ze Crimson Troupe. Zhey vere initially hitmen for hire, masquerading as un traveling troupe. But when His Majesty declared war on Gaul, zhey sided with Corsica I instead. Why? I cannot say. Perhaps zheir leadership had political ties to ze Gaulish Emperor. Regardless, zhey and Gaul lost ze war. Among other zhings, judging from zhier obsession with Gaulish culture zhese days."

"I'd say you lost your marbles if you thought I would ever work with madmen like them," Shining sneered. "Especially after they tried to use Liz as a bargaining chip."

"And you're naive to zhink you can bury your clan's legacy. Zhere's so much to be gleaned from all of zhis, from her."

Gieszler motioned at Liz.

"Zhink of ze advancements in communications, nay, in evolution!"

"Communication?" Six snorted. "It looks more like you robbing people of their will and knowledge. What the hell are you doing with Ingra's head, anyway? Reanimating it?"

Gieszler seemed to be arguing back, but Six's focus was elsewhere. While that man was bantering with Shining, he was bouncing in and out of VATS. And right now he was locking onto the biggest threat with said system. The Pip-Boy guided Six's aim toward the old man's arm. A few lasers were more than enough to Cripple it.

Lyudmila dashed toward him, phasing past the Mass-Produced Colossus before it could squash her. She grabbed his staff as it fell to the ground and knocked Gieszler off his feet. Then she smashed its head against the floor, rupturing its Arts unit. She tossed the broken device at the golem, bolting back to the gang as it exploded at its feet. The giant stumbled back and spasmed, stunned by the blast.

Six and ED-E opened fire on its legs. As soon as both limbs were Crippled, Its lower half crumbled into dust. Gieszler made a break for the elevator as the construct crawled toward the enemy.

Six bolted past the drone while Lyudmila and ED-E handled the golem. The Courier tackled and pinned Gieszler to the back of the cable box.

"You- your people…" he croaked. "Are you… Übermenschen?"

Six scowled. "Some of them certainly believe themselves to be," Six snides before decapitating him.

Six glanced back at his party. The golem had already crumbled away from the combined might of blade and laser. Six claimed Gieszler's and went back for Ingra's. Hopefully, both will last long enough in subspace storage for him to collect their bounties.

Everyone huddled back into the elevator and toward the room. They crept back to the basement, keeping their eyes peeled for traps. Nothing of the sort reared their ugly heads. It was almost a relief as they used Gieszler's head and keycard to unravel the hidden door.

Stone and gears groaned as the wall split open and slid out of existence. There, waiting on the other side, was the champion of Kazimierz herself. Surrounding her was a treasure trove of weapons, armor, and other armaments. Many of which were his.

Six wasted no time in reclaiming his gear and ammunition. Margaret offered everyone a smile while he looted some bolts and additional weapons for bartering down the line. ED-E chirped a greeting toward the knight as it ejected her sword-spear(?) from subspace storage and into her hand.

"It's good to see some friendly faces again," she said. "And to finally ditch that helmet."

One face wasn't too thrilled about seeing the knight though. Margaret noticed a flash of red behind Shining and walked around her. She blinked.

"Crownslayer?" Margaret said in disbelief. "What in the world is she doing here?"

"That's none of your business," Lyudmila sneered. "And for your information, I don't operate with that name anymore."

Margaret's grip on her weapon tightened, but Shining held her hand up.

"You need not worry about this one," the Sarkaz assured the knight. "She has absolved herself of her sins with her companionship to this man."

Margaret shifted her attention to Six with arched eyebrows. "She's really your partner?" the blonde asked.

Six's gaze shifted back to Lyudmila for a moment. The second their eyes locked together, he sensed a whirlpool of negativity. Mistrust, regret, shame, fear, even some embers of fury. Part of him couldn't help but wonder if he was staring into her soul, or seeing a reflection of his.

Six turned back to the knight in shining armor and gave her a nod. "I only just learned about her dirty laundry," he confessed. "But I'm willing to hear her side of the story… after we leave this fucked up dollhouse."

Six glanced over to the back of the room. There was a stairway leading down into… somewhere. Six descended down the steps and shined his Pip-Boy's light into the abyss.

He could make out training dummies, wooden swords and arrows, practice targets, and punching bags. Didn't take a genius to realize that this was a training room. Probably for the Troupe's assassins, he wagered.

Six removed his Pip-Boy and set it on the ground, still lighting the surrounding area. He swapped out his suit for his usual garb before strapping it back on. He climbed back up to find everyone strapping gasmasks onto their belts. Lyudmila had changed back into her camo-outfit and added some armor to it.

"Are we ready to depart?" Margaret asked.

"Not yet," Six said. "We still need to deal with Karine."

Margaret furrowed her brows. "The Mistress?" she asked. "What about her? We don't have to waste time on relics like her. We can just go."

"What about the slaves, though? Are we just going to abandon them?"

"They've probably already left. Without the collars restricting their movement, they can just run for the hills."

"And the ones that haven't or couldn't…?"

Margaret paused. Shining stepped up.

"This isn't about them, is it?" the Sarkaz observed. "This is about vengeance."

Six didn't speak up for a minute. "Maybe," he admitted. "The only good slaver's a dead one, in my book."

But then he shook his head. "[Speech 50] But that's not the only thing on my mind. Karine doesn't strike me as the type to let go. She has plans for me and Lyudmila, and she's tried to blackmail Shining with Liz here. Who's to say that she won't send out hunting parties for a do-over?"

Everyone's brows furrowed as they processed his words. Shining gave a reluctant nod of agreement.

"An astute argument," she relented. "Women like her are not the type to relinquish their prey. So long as she lives, she will send her hounds after us again and again. Very well then, stranger. It's open season."

A wolfish grin grew under his helmet as he reloaded his weapons. He and ED-E took point, leading everyone back to the entry hall. And waiting for them were a dozen hostiles.

Some of them were lightly armored, others rogues duel-wielding swords. A couple of Casters and Heavy Defenders were on the stairways, both in a color-scheme of black and red. But the thing that caught Six's eye was that most of them bore the same masks he found in Chernobog.

And sitting on the railing of the foyer's balcony was Karine, with a smug smile and a hand under her chin.

"Well well well," she chimed. "What do we have here? Two little birdies trying to fly ze coop with a couple of demons and…"

She feigned a sniff as she turned her gaze to Margaret. "I zhought I smelled a stinkfowl amidst our ranks," she noted. "But to zhink zhat we'd be graced by ze Radiant Knight herself. I don't know whezher to applaud you for your subterfuge or to gut you for your interference."

"What makes you think we're running?" Six retorted.

"Oh? Have you two considered our invitation?"

Six's response was to draw out the All-American. Karine let out a snobbish laugh as she glared down at the party.

"So forward," she taunted. "Solitaire used to be more coy back in ze day."

"Solitaire?"

"Oui. Our guild's prodigy. Le diamant de sang, or 'Blood Diamond' in your tongue. As charming as he was deadly. But alas, he decided to part ways with us ages ago. And he left a vacuum in our talent pool as he made his grand exit. None could compare to him or ze agents we lost… unto you two stepped onto our porch."

"You want us to replace your runaway assassin."

"You two would make decent successors to Solitaire. You both put up as much of a fight as he did and have enough intelligence to appreciate art. With furzher refinement, you two would be a proper gentleman and lady.

"Ze Crimson Troupe and I can offer you many things. Wealth, fame, power, debauchery. With you two's prowess, we can become lords. Become legend!"

"Those things mean jack-shit when you're tangled up in puppet strings. I'll pass."

A disappointed frown slithered across her face. "Zhen I suppose some disciplinary action is needed," she concluded. "Rough up la coppia di battaglia and Confessarius. Dispose of ze rest."

Several Light-Armored Soldiers charged forth shields first and blades out. They were smart enough to cover their fronts but left their legs exposed. Six switched to his Riot Shotgun and shredded those, then their skulls. ED-E was swift enough to flank and disintegrate them from behind. The dual-swordsmen fell even quicker, charging at him with their sword-arms stretched out.

Lyudmila danced around her opponents, barking in Ursus at each of them as she dodged their swings. Six didn't understand her words, but she seemed to have an earnest look on her face. No, not just earnest. Her tone of voice almost seemed like she was pleading with them. Most of the grunts didn't register whatever she said to them. The few that responded didn't carry any emotion behind their words.

Shining stayed back with Liz, deflecting any blade or arrow that came her way. She'd throw a kick or a bop from her sword's hilt for anyone who got close, but she never drew the blade itself. Let alone take any lethal action against them. Why the hell was she holding back? Did she have one of those 'AoE' tricks like Leonhardt and wanted to avoid friendly fire?

Margaret was taking a similar approach to Lyudmila. Six could hear her trying to reason with the grunts, but the few responses she got were just as empty as Lyudmila's bunch. Were they all indoctrinated? Were any of them in control of their actions?

Six shook those thoughts aside. If none of the locals can get through to these brutes, then they are beyond salvation. Survival must come first.

As the last swordsman and soldier fell, the Heavy Defender Leaders tried to box them in. Shining and Liz shielded everyone from Arts bombardment as the Senior Casters waltzed down the stairways. The 12 gauge flechettes from Six's Riot Shotgun tore through the formers' shields and armor, carving openings for Margaret and Lyudmila to exploit. Any Caster that came down the steps had their barriers torn open with grenades, exposing them to the heroes.

Karine scowled as she stared down at the carnage below. While she was far from a slouch, neither was that damned knight. And with the young man's arsenal back in his hands, her chances of climbing up the Troupe's ladder practically vanished. Unless…

She pressed a button on her gauntlet, causing the originium crystal to flash neon purple. Just as the last henchman fell, the ground started to rumble. The heroes froze up as they tried to locate the source of the quakes, each one more intense than the last.

Suddenly the manor's doors were sent flying towards them and Karine. Everyone rolled to the side as the barriers crashed and exploded into splinters. Crimson mists flooded the manor, forcing everyone sans Six to hold their breaths and don their gas masks. And stomping their way through the smog and dust was the Lost Colussus.

"Oi!" Karine shouted. "Who told you to wreck ze place?"

The golem just stared at her. The mistress cursed under her breath as she pressed her fingers between her mask's lens.

"Crush ze knight," she ordered, pointing at Margaret.

The golem charged forth, bringing its fists down on the Radiant Knight. She rolled to the side, slashing at its limbs with a faint golden shimmer in her blade. The construct tried swatting and stomping at her, but she strafed gracefully around each strike. If it weren't for the situation at hand, Six would've thought she was a ballerina.

"ED-E, Anti-Material," Six ordered.

ED-E issued some acknowledging beeps, popping out his GRA-issued Anti-Material Rifle. Six inserted a magazine of explosive rounds into it and bolted up the stairs. Karine fired some blasts of Arts at Six, but a boost from Implant GRX kept him ahead of the game. As soon as he reached the top, the first thing he locked onto was her center of mass.

Karine tried to block the bullets with her gauntlet, but the explosions crippled her arm. It soon proved a horrible idea when fissures appeared on the originium crystal. Before she could remove the gauntlet, it exploded into a hail of Arts and shrapnel. The middle-aged woman howled as her arm disintegrated and collapsed onto the floor, clenching the charred stump.

Just as Six brought VATS back up, something slammed into him. It was another goddamned mudball. By the time he shook off the stars orbiting his skull and dug his way out, Karine was already behind him. She unfastened his helmet and ran off with it, taunting him in French. Six held his breath and bolted after her.

Arts Gaurds and Casters stood between him and her, but he gunned them all down. Unfortunately, he was forced to draw in some breaths on occasion, taking a hit in his health bar. He also felt a faint pressure building up beneath his skullcap. Something akin to a shot of Psycho.

[Chem Resistant] Whatever it was, he managed to suppress it. Eventually, he caught up to and cornered Karine in her bedroom. His helmet was nowhere to be seen.

"Toi... espèce de bâtard," Karine hissed as she leaned against her bed for support. "I offered you two a new beginning, and zhis is how you respond!?"

"New beginning?" Six snorted. "There's no future in chains."

Karine charged him with a rapier, but Six sidestepped and blew off her leg. She howled as she skidded past him and back into the hall. She tried to hoist and balance herself upright with the sword, but Six blasted her other arm apart too. The woman howled and gritted her teeth.

"And what about ze past?" she snarled. "Isn't zhere some baggage you'd like to discard? Regrets to forget?"

Six's eyes narrowed. "Every memory is precious to me," he replied as he switched back to the MF Hyperbreeder Alpha. "And I won't let anyone take them from me ever again."

Karine raised an eyebrow and was about to say something before Six disintegrated her. The only things that survived the laser's beam were her skull and her belongings. Six shifted through the ashes and dug out some goodies. Some antique coins, LMDs, a skeleton key, and her gas mask (resembling Earth's ANP M51).

Six quickly donned her headgear and injected a stimpak into his systems. The mask was hardly in mint condition, but it will do for the time being. While his HP ticked back up, he rummaged through her room and discovered some more loot.

Once he pillaged it, he grabbed her rapier and gave it a few swings. It felt a little bit flimsy in his hands. Must have been designed as a badge of office instead of a proper weapon. Still, could fetch a decent price with the people of Grinkhorn.

Suddenly he heard a beeping sound. Six turned to see a yellow light flashing in Karine's ashes. He shuffled through them again and discovered a small piece of hardware. It bore some resemblance to the heart monitors Ingra's gang bore, albeit smaller and more compact. Judging from the faint crimson stains, it must've been surgically implanted.

The next thing Six knew, a stone hand ripped through the floor and grabbed him. The Lost Colussus stared down at the Courier before chucking him through the nearest window. Six's body flew into the red mists and bounced across the cold earth, crashing into and toppling over a jet-black jeep. Luckily it didn't pin him down like Ingra.

Six groaned as he slid off the wreckage, rubbing his forehead-

[Luck 4/5] Only for Karine's mask to crumble into dust. Six cursed before holding his breath again. A screech from the crimson mists and a set of crimson rectangles on his compass demanded his attention. He turned to see ebon arachnids, some with magma-orange highlights, some with blood-red. Infused Originium Slugs, like the ones in that abandoned mine.

Six drew out the All-American took a few steps back and toggled VATS, locking onto them. One bullet was more than enough to detonate them. With a little precision and baiting, he managed to bunch some up and score a few chain reactions. Then their Caster masters entered the field, firing Arts at him. Thump-Thump was his response.

Then the goons brought in artillery. Six danced around mortar fire and Arts, returning fire with That Gun and his Plasma Defender. Things got even worse when someone decided to make a beeline for him. Someone with a flaming sword and-

Six's eyes widened in disbelief. No fucking way! He mentally cursed.

Charing right toward him was Vulpes Inculta. The spymaster of Caesar's Frumentarii, the destroyer of Searchlight and Nipton, and by all accounts, a dead man. Last time Six saw him was when he tried to assassinate him after the second battle for Hoover Dam. He left that bastard's head and dog-hood on a pike in The Fort's ruins.

Six drew out his Ripper in time to block Vulpes's blade. Sparks flew as the handheld chainsaw's teeth ground against the fiery blade. Was this another hallucination?

Maybe. He had a crimson IFF marker on the HUD's compass, so he was a physical threat. Six couldn't lock onto him with VATS for some reason, though. Maybe this fog was interfering with his Pip-Boy's systems?

"Well, well, well," snarled Vulpes's ghost. "If it isn't our favorite Courier. Did you miss me?"

Six's response was to kick Vulpes between the legs and back-step, firing a shot from A Light Shining in Darkness.

"Hmph, I thought not," Vulpes grunted. "So how is Red Lucy these days? Have you two finally mended bridges or-"

A slash across his arm was the only answer he received. A dark chuckle slithered out of his throat.

"I'll take that as a 'nec' then," Vulpes commented. "And what about Sarah? Is she walking again or are you content with leaving her bound to a wheelchair?"

Six slashed across the Legioanry's leg next.

"Hmm, I suppose even the Omniscient Courier cannot repair one's spine," Vulpes taunted as he parried another blow. "Especially if it was sliced in half by a .308 round. And what about Joana and Carlitos? Still nice, warm, and snug in their-"

Vulpes snarled as a .45 auto went through his boot.

"Did you really think you could protect those two?" he snapped. "Their delusions of happiness lasted for, what? One year? Two? And then it all went up in literal flames. The Omerta at least met a swift end, but his pet whore?"

Vulpes spat on the ground. "Her descent was slow. We could've provided security for the Mojave, and yet you decided to stick a knife into Caesar's back. We pardoned you for your crimes and you repaided Caesar's generosity with a horde of metal demons. You razed the Fort to the ground, and with it, Caesar's hopes and dreams!"

Six's trigger finger twitched. He knew he shouldn't open his mouth in his current predicament, but his fury compelled him to.

"Hope?" he retorted. "Since when the fuck did slave collars and cages give anyone hope?"

"They provided the Proflorgates with purpose and order."

"And yet they robbed people of their goddamned souls. You ain't gonna find purpose or order if you've got nothing but empty husks wandering about. Especially with so many of your warriors breaking Caesar's tenets behind his back anyway."

The Legionary's blade flared up. Six had to break away from the Frumentarii to avoid being incarcerated, injecting another stimpak into his skin while he had some breathing room.

"You always thought so highly of yourself," Vulpes snarled. "Come. Let me reunite you with the exile and his whore."

It was a dance of fire and bullets between the vengeful assassin and the Courier. The flames of the katana flew at the Courier, but he dodged and weathered through them with ease. Eventually, he sawed off the bastard's hands when he attempted a vertical strike. Vulpes howled and ranted at him in Latin, bearing his fangs and prepared to pounce...

…only to get crushed by a giant green fist. Six glanced up and beheld the tallest super mutant he had ever seen. Many of the ones he encountered were at least a couple of heads taller than him and twice as broad, but this one made them look like dwarves. He had stories of these specimens out East, 'Behemoths' if memory served.

Six swapped out the Ripper and .45 pistol for the riot shotgun and some Drago's breath. He dodged the abomination's fists, feet, and lumps of debris as it stomped after him. Blood gushed out as he chipped away at its legs. One of them was eventually Crippled, causing it to crumble into dust clouds and gore.

The beast roared as it collapsed onto the ground. Six swapped the shotgun out for Gehenna 2.0 and the MF Hyperbreeder Alpha, opting to conserve his remaining rounds. He compensated for this with a dose of Pyscho before charging forth. He howled back as he slashed away at its arms with blade and laser, drawing out more blood.

It tried to swat him away like Bloatfly, but he blocked each of its strikes. The most they accomplished was pushing him back a few inches. So it decided to lower its guard and allow him to throw a few more swings. While he was distracted, the 'Behemoth' dropped a mound on top of him.

Six snarled as he clawed his way out yet again. He was in for a bigger shock when the beast grabbed him and began to squeeze the life out of him. His armor cracked and groaned from the pressure as he tried to wriggle his way out of its iron grip. Between this and the toxins surrounding them, Six's life was fading.

By the time his Nerd Rage kicked in he was barely conscious. He had just enough cognition and strength to squirm his way out before being flicked into a tree. The world spun as Six rose back up and wasted yet another stimpak. He reached for his Shishkebab and recharger pistol but found neither on his person.

Shit. Six thought to himself. Must've dropped those in the mists.

Six reloaded his riot shotgun and aimed at the 'Behemoth" as it crawled to him. Someone pounced on the giant's back before he could pull the trigger. Six didn't believe in angels, but he knew a knight in shining armor when he saw one. A Brotherhood Knight with a Plasma Glaive, to be specific. They dropped onto it like a wrecking ball, impaling the glaive through its back. And the person donning the suit of T-51 Power Armor was-

Six blinked. A part of his brain wanted to shed a tear. He resisted the urge.

"Veronica?" he croaked out.

The battle cry that came out of her mouth wasn't hers. It was deeper than the soft voice that the Courier remembered.

"O sun, bow to me!"

The 'Behemoth' was consumed in a golden incandescence. It reached back toward the knight, but it crumbled into dust before it could grab her. 'Veronica' slid off its dustpile and walked over to the Courier. Se raised her suit's servos up as he aimed his shotgun at her.

"It's alright friend," 'Veronica' assured him. 'You're safe."

Six wasn't so entirely sure. Just because his HUD registered her as 'friendly' didn't mean she'd stay that way. That was until a floating eyeball floated over to him. It spoke to him in gurgles, but something about them felt familiar. And in its tendrils was his helmet.

Six carefully reached for his headgear and checked his Pip-Boy. It was real, alright. Six donned his helmet and waited for a few seconds. His HP had stopped ticking away. He allowed himself to take in a sigh of relief as clean air seeped into his lungs.

Vulpes morphed into one of those swordsmen with flaming blades. 'Avengers', Lyudmila called them. Verorinca, to his disappointment, morphed into Margeret.

The eyeball darted around the battlefield for a bit while Six's brain flushed out the hallucinogens. It- no, ED-E- returned with Gehenna 2.0 and the MF Hyperbreeder Alpha. He reclaimed those without hesitation.

"Thanks for the save," Six said to Margaret. "Where's everyone else?"

"Right here," Shining called out.

Six turned to see the Sarkaz and Lyudmila walking through the blood-red mists, still wearing their gasmasks. The shroud soon dissipated, revealing the dead and the fresh ruins of the manor grounds.

"Y'all's handiwork?" Six asked, pointing at the torn-down mansion.

Lyudmila shook her head. "The Colussus did that," she clarified. "It went berserk after you went you chased down the mistress. What the hell did you do?"

"I vaporized Karine and found a heart monitor in her ashes," Six explained. "Then that thing caught up to me and threw me like a damned baseball. She must've had a deadman's switch surgically grafted into her."

Shining frowned slightly. "Not too surprising, considering the pack she travels with," the Sarkaz commented. "How re you feeling?"

"A little sore, but nothing I can't sleep off," Six said with a shrug.

Six scoured the property and bodies for valuables for a few minutes, Pipboy lighting the way for him. The women looked at him with some disapproval, but he ignored them. He and Lyudmila- assuming that she hadn't lied about her childhood- had to scrounge for resources to survive back home. Those three women, on the other hand, struck him as 'civilized' folk. People who know nothing about survival. Know nothing about hardship and the cruelties of the world.

Six dug up a jadestone, a jewel box, first aid kits, Hemostatic agents, a damaged revolver cylinder, a round shield, coins with the number 777 on 'em, and a rusty hammer. He also found a Joker card in a songstress's pockets, with an unnerving smile in its artwork. He always entertained the idea of adding cards to his helmet like some NCR soldiers. Perhaps something like a Joker or the Fool tarot card.

But this card gave him bad vibes. He tossed it back onto its owner's corpse and returned to the party with his loot in hand. He handed the medical supplies to the healers.

"Here," he said. "The locals need these more than I do."

"Have you checked these for contaminants?" Shining asked.

Six nodded. "Pip-boy's scans didn't pick up any harmful materials, and they seem clean. Probably wouldn't hurt to give the instruments an extra scrub anyway. Everybody ready to leave this dump?"

The women nodded while ED-E chirped in positive tunes. Six wasted no breath and motioned for everyone to follow him back to Grinkhorn. The sun had already begun its descent into the horizon, leaving the world in darkness. Six turned on his Pip-Boy's flashlight while Liz conjured up some type of bird-shaped hologram(?) for illumination. The Courier took the front while ED-E guarded the rear.

Everybody was still wound up after today's events. Six most of all. He had walked right into the Troupe's hands and was almost reduced to a fucking puppet. Almost like his 'adventures' at Big MT and the Sierra Madre. If his captors hadn't made the mistake of abducting Liz as well…

Six shuddered. A hand rose to where the collar sat not long ago. Where they and Elijah placed an explosive leash on him.

Never again.

ED-E noticed Six's agitation and beeped some concerned tunes at him. He ignored them as he took in some deep breaths. His motion tracker picked up movement, but none of the markers were labeled as hostile. Most of the culprits were just wildlife, nothing humanoid.

Wait. He saw something in the woods. Or rather, someone. A tall, masked figure with marionette crosses in their hands. Six toggled VATS as he drew out A Light Shining In Darkness-

Only for them to vanish. Six blinked.

"ED-E, you picking up anything?" he asked the eyebot.

ED-E emitted some negative chirps. Six glanced around. Apart from himself, the only other person staring at the stranger's position was Shining. Everyone else was giving them confused looks.

"Is something wrong Shining?" Margaret asked.

Shining shook her head. "No," she said. "Just some beast scurrying about is all."

Six hastily nodded in agreement. He was hit with a neurotoxin earlier. Maybe his brain hadn't fully flushed the stuff out.

Apart from that little distraction, the return trip was uneventful. Grinkhorn had an influx of new visitors when they arrived. Most of them were surviving slaves from the manor, either chatting with the locals or receiving medical attention from them. The rest were the goons bound in chains, being herded into the old bunker. Probably for interrogation.

Nobody paid them any mind, thankfully enough. Both parties ventured back upstairs to their rooms. Margaret and Lyudmila had a bit of a staredown before they parted ways. Six and ED-E follow her into their room, passing a glance at the wandering healers as the former-

Something got caught in the door. Or rather, someone stopped it. Six blinked as he saw a lantern sticking out. He was even more surprised to see Liz forcing her way inside. Margaret and Shining ran after her with bewildered looks on their faces.

"Liz, what are you doing?" Margaret called out.

"Getting an answer," the pale woman replied.

"An answer for what? What's going on?"

Shining didn't say anything as she locked the door. The dynamic trio tensed up as Liz approached them.

"'Theuses Grant' is just an alias, that much is obvious to me," she said. "But what isn't is your reason for being here."

"That's none of your business," Six growled.

"You still haven't answered my question from supper."

"[Charisma 4/7] Because it's crazy. You're crazy. As crazy as those theocrats. Just because I don't have obvious racial traits doesn't mean-"

[FAILED!] Someone slapped him across his helmet's gasmask. Hard. Everyone jumped as Shining suddenly stepped between Six and Liz, glaring daggers at the Courier.

"How dare you," Shining hissed. "Liz is many things, but 'delusional' isn't one of them. I am willing to absolve people for their fear and ignorance, but I will not tolerate such slander against her!"

"So you actually believe her?" Six hissed back. "You really think I'm some fucking spaceman?"

"Her observations do align with reality," Shining replied. "Your physiology does not match any race I have encountered. Your arsenal is… unorthodox, even compared to the Sankta."

"'Unorthodox' is putting it mildly," Margaret added. "Before you all freed me, I spent some examining the Crimsom Troupes' ill-gotten goods. I found no trace of originium in Grant's wares whatsoever."

Six's trigger finger twitched.

"The Troupe made that observation as well," Shining recounted before turning back to Six. "And that's not even accounting for your ignorance of the wider world. I've met many isolated communities in the past, but they all at least acknowledged Arts as a legitimate concept. You don't. You constantly refer to it as 'magic', as if it was the work of fantasy. Something outside the realm of science."

Something in Six snapped. Maybe it was the chems he had inhaled, but he wasn't certain. All he knew was that something broke loose and shoved down every ounce of logic and restraint.

"'Cus it's paracausal bullshit!" he howled. "I can get behind Originium acting as a source of energy. But conjuring up flames and smokescreens? Accelerating the body's healing process? Generating force fields? Inducing fatigue into targets? Altering one's density? It's not just sheer insanity! It defies the laws of nature and mocks my people's understanding of the universe!"

Six's fist slammed onto the table, a web of cracks sprouting from the epicenter of the impact. Everyone else but Liz flinched at his rant.

"Your people," she began. "They've never had anything like Originium, did they? They've never faced things like Arts, Oripathy, or Catastrophes."

Liz gently shoved her guardian aside and looked Six in the eye again. This time her gaze was much softer.

"Today wasn't my first time in a cage," she revealed. "Once upon a time, I was imprisoned in an empty room. I only saw another human being when they either needed my healing or to poke and prod at me."

She placed a cool hand on his arm.

"I know what it's like to be locked in a cage," she continued. "To be strapped to an operating table and tested on like some beast. It's a fate I wouldn't wish upon anyone. Not even my worst enemies. I don't want the same thing to happen to you."

Liz squeezed at Six's arm.

"Mr. Grant-"

"Six," Lyudmila blurted out in correction.

Six cast a glare at the assassin.

"Mr. Six…" Liz reiterated. "Why are you on Terra?"

Six stood silent for a moment. He was already running a hundred different strategies and plans in his reinforced skull. Strategies on how to escape from this interrogation. How to take down the locals. From where he was standing- in a cramped room with xenos capable of harnessing a seemingly mystical power- his chances of success were slim. Getting out with all of his limbs attached even less so.

Even if he accomplished both of these without a scratch, the commotion would certainly alert the rest of the village. They'd probably destroy his ride before he'd reach it and he'd be forced to face them too. Walking on foot and potentially into another Catastrophe was not on his bucket list either.

Tell them… pleaded His Brain.

What? Six mentally shot back.

Tell them the truth.

The truth? That I'm a xeno from a dying world with advanced technology? Technology and resources that my species wasn't mature enough to handle? You're asking me to paint a target between my fucking eyes!

If you retaliate now, you'll lose all hope of survival. Of returning us home.

How do I know that this isn't some trap? How can I trust them when Penguin Logistics tried to rob and lock me up? How do I know that they're any different than Gieszler!?

If Shining were anything like him, she wouldn't have orchestrated our escape. She would've left ED-E to rust and us in chains. And besides, if any of them try to expose us without substantial evidence,, who's going to believe them? Two of them are Sarkaz, one's a notorious assassin, and the last one's a knight raging against an oligarchy.

Cassandra's curse?

Exactly!

…

Six closed his eyes and took in some deep breaths. His HUD wasn't picking up additional IFF markers on the compass.

"ED-E, you picking up anything outside the window?" he asked.

ED-E emitted some negative beeps.

"Close it and stand watch. Make sure nobody tries to eavesdrop."

The eyebot chirped in acknowledgment as it followed its orders. Six grabbed a chair and turned it 180 degrees before sitting in it.

"Grab a seat," said the Courier. "And maybe a barf bag too if your stomach ain't made of iron. This is gonna take all night."

Notes:

And here we are. Finally got the second half of this misadventure up and over with. Sorry it took so long, but things happened. And also writer's block. I swear I'm more active at night than I am during the daytime. Am I a vampire or something? Bah, anyway, onto the Notes.

First of all, is the Reunion bombshell. Honestly, Six had suspicions, but no evidence to confirm anything. While I certainly intended for him to go berserk toward Crownslayer, I also wanted to touch on his own sins. His role in the Divide's destruction and… maybe a certain Vault. As much as he hates to admit it, he's not as innocent as he claims to be. He has his issues and phantom pain.

And second, Nightingale's interrogation. This was an idea I've had on my mind for a long time now. Nearl's probably a supersoldier compared to Six and Shining's background as a Confessarius would probably make her just as dangerous, but he could at least fool or deflect attention from them.

Not Liz, though. As awesome and terrifying as it might be to see Ms. Nearl and Qui'saršinnag in action, Liz might be the Follower who scares Six the most. Not because of her skill in combat or her demeanor, but her keen eyes. She can see through Six's bullshit and that scares him.

And as for relationships… well, one sunk after losing its mates, and another's got some holes to patch up. I have considered making Gieszler and Karine an item in early drafts, but I threw those in the waste bin since I already had two angels orbiting around each other.

And speaking of which, Micael wasn't the first candidate I had in mind for Falling. Larsson was the first, but I doubted even he would be quick to gun down his fellow Sankta. At least not intentionally. And after spending so much time in the Crimson Troupe, I'm pretty sure The Law is willing to exempt Paulina seeing as she's been indoctrinated at a young age. Now whether or not she's killed a Sankta before… I haven't decided and probably wouldn't care too much about that detail.

Next chapter's probably not gonna be as action-packed. At least not in the beginning. Six exchanges goodbyes with a fellow bad-luck charm and finally sneaks into Lungmen. What's it called, you might be asking. Either 'Streetrats' or 'The House of Everything'. Depends on who greets him first. Hopefully not someone 'Hungry Like The Wolf'. 'Truth and Reconciliation' is another contender for the next chapter's title, with 'Culture Shock' as another. Okay, that last suggestion would probably describe the next little arc better.

And to those wondering how things will go between two survivors... well, as one song says, 'sometimes goodbye's a second chance'.

Now if you excuse me, I got a couple of games to try out for inspiration. One with another post-apocalyptic society living underground and one that hasn't been torched but is slowly drowning in neon lights.

Chapter 16: Truth and Reconciliation

Summary:

Sometimes goodbye's a second chance...

Date: Unknown. At least one year since the Second Battle for Hoover Dam.

Location: Vault 21

Time: Sunrise(?)

Vaults. Every Wastelander's heard of those at some point. Some regard them as sanctuaries for the rich and lucky. Others saw them as mass graves where unspeakable atrocities were committed. It's been said that if you saw one on the surface, they were either on a mission from God or banished from Eden.

Many of Vault 21's residents were forced into the outside world after Robert House flooded the lower levels with cement. He would've destroyed the entire Vault were it not for the Weintraub siblings, who appealed to his sense of business. At their suggestion, the upper levels were converted into a hotel, allowing customers to get a taste of life underground. And right now a certain VIP was sharing a bed with its manager.

Six's eyes fluttered open to find Sarah lying next to him.

"Morning, monster," she greeted with a smile and peck on the lips.

Six kissed her back. "Morning, blueberry," he replied with a stretch and groan.

Sarah giggled as she rolled off of him. "Really?" she snickered. "Out of all the pet names you could've picked, you went with a critically endangered species?"

"Some populations might not be nuked to hell and back. And it's more creative than 'blondie' or 'Goldilocks'."

"True. But then again the berries might've been harvested to extinction by desperate survivors."

"But at least you're smarter than Goldilocks."

Sarah laughed. "Ain't that the truth?"

Both of them jumped upright and stretched some before heading to the restroom. They took turns at the sink and shower, then returned to the bedroom to dress back up. Sarah giggled as she noticed the crimson dye running off of Six's hair.

"Do you always have to dye your hair when you come down here?" she asked.

"I'm a VIP, remember?" Six replied. "I'd rather draw as little attention as possible."

"Are the sunglasses and hat necessary for every trip down here, though? I mean it's stylish, sure, but…"

"It's for your protection. Can't risk you getting associated with me topside."

Sarah frowned. Even after he booted the NCR and Legion off of Hoover Dam, both factions sent out spies back onto the Strip. The ones from the former were at least courteous when unmasked. The latter's though… not so much. They'd rather try to take down the Courier then and there than fail their overlord. And they didn't care about collateral.

Six was disappointed when he heard that Caesar made it outta The Fort before the Securitrons reduced it to rubble. They reported seeing injuries on him, but that was about it. Injuries can be treated and healed. But egos? Some people have a harder time patching those up than their own bodies.

Caesar sent many of his men to an early grave since then, trying to overwhelm the Securitrons and local militia with sheer numbers. To make matters worse, some Frumentarii have used these attacks as smokescreens to infiltrate New Vegas. One spy managed to cause a mass poisoning at the Gourmand last week, and not all of his victims lived to see the sunrise again. The bastard slit his own throat shortly after his dishes were delivered.

That frown flipped a 180 as a more positive thought crossed her mind. "But you still drive down to my pod anyway," she noted.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and locked her lips with his. Six deepened the kiss as he wrapped his arms around her waist. She squealed as he gave her ass a good squeeze.

"Seriously?" she teased as she broke off the kiss, playfully slapping his arm. "I only just got my strength back."

"Sorry," Six teased back. "Couldn't resist that look on your face. Or that sound you make."

Sarah smirked before returning the favor. Six grunted as she pinched his cheeks back, then growled as she left a hickey on his neck.

"Don't forget that I know your weak points too," reminded Sarah.

She loved the sounds he made in and out of bed. How that big brain of his had an animalistic side. Most people found them intimidating, but she personally thought they were adorable. And sexy in the right context.

"How long have we been dating now?" she asked him.

"Officially?" Six replied. "Hm… I'd say three months now."

"You've actually been keeping track?"

"I don't need a calendar for that."

"With everything you juggle with, I find that doubtful."

Six laughed. While they have been sexual partners since before Hoover Dam, they've only started entertaining a more serious relationship recently. Though Six personally preferred someone who could hold their ground, he wasn't one to look down on those who couldn't. It was inevitable that not everyone he'd meet was a born fighter like he was. He didn't mind playing the guardian angel, though. After all, the role provided him some dopamine for the thrill seeker within himself.

"How're Carlitos and Joana?" she asked.

"They're fine," Six replied. "Still learning the ropes around farming, but they're making process. Of course, it's a little difficult when one of them's pregnant."

"You're not one of the fathers, are you?" she teased.

Six snorted. Though he slept with many women (and experimented with some men on the side. And maybe a robot...), he had a soft spot for Joana in particular. He felt a sort of… kindred spirit with her. Someone he sympathized with. And yet he went out of his way to defy fate and reunite two star-crossed lovers.

"[Perception 6] I haven't shared a bed with her since her daring escape," Six reminded Sarah. "And I used protection when we first met. It's definitely Carlitos' kid."

"Mhm. And what about Red Lucy? You two still in touch with each other?"

Six paused before nodding again. "She's taking care of the kids if that's what you're asking," he replied.

"You two never really hit it off, right?"

Six shook his head. "She's hot, and as much an animal in bed as you are," he admitted. "But we never felt a spark between us. She wanted an heir to her throne, and only the strongest could plant the seeds in her garden. We merely obliged each other."

"But you still drop by when possible?"

"Only to see the young'uns. I'm still surprised that she gave birth to twins."

"Goes to show what that lady's made of. What did you two name those little sand devils again?"

"Artemis and Apollo."

"Aren't those Latin names?"

"[Intellgence 7] Greek, actually. Artemis was the Goddess of the Moon and Hunt. Apollo was the God of the Sun and healing, among other things."

"Huh. So she wants one of them to pick up the torch, right? What about the other?"

"Honestly, she'd probably care less about what they would do with their lives. Me? So long as they're not slapping Slave Collars on anybody's necks, I can concur with her."

Sarah nodded in agreement. "Well, at least you two are on the same wavelength when it comes to kids."

Six nodded back. "Speaking of wavelengths, you still in touch with your brother?"

"Yeah, we still text each other from time to time."

"How long has it been since you two saw each other."

Sarah shifted slightly. "Didn't I just say that we talk?"

"You know what I mean."

Sarah sighs, breaking and turning away from Six. His response was to pull her into a hug. He bent down and rested his head atop hers.

"Sarah, it's been years since you've seen him in person," Six recalled. "Don't you at least want to see how he's doing?"

She didn't respond. Six sighed. He was well aware of the sibling's agoraphobia, but from his understanding, Sarah's case wasn't actually the most severe. Perhaps it was more of a fear of his enemies than the great outdoors?

"This isn't about my brother, is it?" she asked.

Six frowned slightly. "Okay fine, I wanted to take you out sometime. Maybe do some star gazing."

"Star gazing? In Vegas?" Sarah snorted. "That's sweet but if my brother's assistant is to be believed, you can't see them with all the light pollution in town. And I'm not setting foot outside of Vegas. No siree!"

Six bent down and pecked her on the check. "Babe," he started. "You don't have to worry about the outside world. Not when I'm around."

Sarah turned to face him. "Aren't you worried about someone seeing us together?" she noted.

"Hey, I'm a master of disguise, remember?" Six retorted. "And even if I wasn't, only an idiot would dare take me on. I won't let anything happen to you."

A soft smile crept up on Sarah's face as she placed one of her hands over his. "I know," she replied. "I just… so much has happened in the last couple of years. With you at the center of the storm. I can't help but feel overwhelmed at times."

Six squeezed her hand back. "Same," he confessed. "I've been juggling politics, training militias, and warding off assassins since I filled in House's shoes. Your room's one of the few places I can consider a safe haven. I can't thank you enough for that."

Sarah rested her head against his chest plate. "And I can't thank you enough for everything you've done," she added. "For keeping Vegas free and safe."

She ran a hand up his arm and against his cheek. Six nuzzled against her palm before she broke away from his bear hug.

"Well, I've got a hotel to manage, and you've got god-knows-what on your schedule," she said.

"And my offer?" Six asked.

"I'll… consider it. You're right about one thing. It has been some time since I saw my brother. I at least want to make sure he hasn't lost too much weight these days."

"So it's a date then?"

"I said I was considering it, Casanova. Don't get your hopes up."

"I was hoping to raise yours."

Sarah giggled. "Beleive me when I say you already have," she said. "Have a good day, tiger."

Sarah then sauntered off. Six sighed. She was born and raised in this Vault. This was her Eden, her haven. Six, however, saw it as a prison. A gilded cage. And as far as he was concerned, no human being should have to spend the rest of their lives in one.

Six exited the room and began walking back to the surface. Or at least he thought he was. He hadn't come across the cafeteria or atrium. He hadn't even stumbled across the parts of the Vault buried under concrete.

Something was wrong. Six brought up his Pip-Boy to look at the local map, but it glitched like hell. His HUD flickered away before he could check the motion tracker. Six drew out the Mysterious Magnum and winced as that damned audio cue played in his head.

Out of all the guns I have, why this one? Six mentally cursed.

He slowly crept through the Vault, overclocking his senses with each step. Part of him always wondered how Vault Dwellers could even stand living in a place like this. Living like rats in a maze, their lives dictated by the whims of an Overseer.

His ears picked up a sharp echo bouncing off of the walls. An explosion, from the sound of things. And voices too. Laughter and… crying? He silently sped down the hall and into-

Wait, a cell block? Yeah, a cell block. But Vault 21 didn't have anything of the like last he checked. Not when all disputes were settled at the roulette table. Even if someone had gotten violent, the offending party would just face exile into the great unknown. Where the hell did this come from?

He froze up as he noticed one of the cells' occupants. Or rather what was left of them. A headless corpse in rags was lying on the floor, blood still oozing from where the head once sat. Around the body's neck was the remnants of a Slave Collar.

[Medicine 60] Six couldn't help but notice all of the bruises and bent fingers on the body. Blemishes from cuts and fisticuffs were littered across the corpse, along with what appeared to be a burn mark. Whoever this person was, their death wasn't a swift one. If anything, the collars going off might've been an act of mercy.

The voices came back. More laughter, more crying. The former was far more sinister now, almost like a raider or Legionary. The latter sounded like a plea. Before Six took a step further, the scene changed.

A crowd appeared before him, laughing and howling like a pack of coyotes. Some of them were combat armor, others blue-and-yellow jumpsuits. All of them had the infinity sign on them for some reason. Some of them were pounding away at something on the ground while the rest stood guard.

That something turned out to be a child. One with another Slave Collar.

Six's blood boiled at the sight. He didn't bother to ask what the fuck was going on. He just pulled out Blood-Nap and slashed the throat of the closest asshole. The first one to respond to his transgressions had his eyes slashed before he was put down. The second one had his teeth knocked out and-

Wait. Where'd his glove and sleeve go? Suddenly he felt a weight being lifted off of his shoulders. Six glanced down at himself to see his attire replaced with a medic's coat. He shifted his attention back to the goon in time to sidestep his charge. Six tripped him over as he sped by and then fired a couple of bullets into his skull. He can worry about the change in wardrobe later.

He then capped the kneecap of one of the brutes picking on the kid, eliciting a howl of agony from them. He grabbed his submachine gun and fired at him, but Six used one of his buddies as a meat shield. A shot from the Mysterious Magnum ripped through his shoulder, causing him to drop his gun. Six slit his hostage's throat before throwing the dying fool into one of his friends and scooping up the SMG. Then he gunned down its owner.

The tell-tale click of an empty magazine caught his attention. He tossed the empty gun at another jackass and capped his skull with the Magnum while he was dazed. One more got the rest of the magazine stuffed into his chest cavity. Six reloaded his gun and-

Someone tackled him to the ground, knocking the Mysterious Magnum out of his hands. A guard pummeled away at Six's skull before he broke free and spun him around for a backstab. As he drew his combat knife off of the recently deceased, he noticed something off about his hand. It seemed more worn, wrinkly even. Six blinked.

He didn't have time to process this before someone pinned him to the wall. It was a douchebag in combat armor, with a smug grin lurking beneath his helmet. He couldn't see his eyes through the sunglasses, but he could feel the malice burning behind these lenses. A dark chuckle slithered through his lips as he stared down at the Courier.

"Well well well," he snarled. "I was wondering when you'd finally show your true colors."

"And you showed yours beating on a defenseless kid," Six retorted. "What's the matter? Raiders too much of a challenge for you?"

The man sneered. "Waste disposal dumbass," he growled. "First Citizen's orders."

"First Citizen? Don't you mean Overseer?"

The man snorted "Hell naw. We did away with Overseers ages ago. Did you forget history class or something?"

"I wasn't aware that slaves were allowed in Vault 21."

The man tilted his head. "21? That ain't our Vault's number. Shit, are you old geezers finally going senile?"

Six's response was to bite down on the asshole's hand. Hard. The bastard yelped and punched the Courier, but that cost him his thumb. He snarled as he tried to pick up his gun with his dominant hand, but it always slipped out of his hand.

"You… you goddamned piece of shit!" he bellowed. "HOW FUCKING DARE YOU LAY YOUR HAND ON THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD!"

Six cocked his head. "Captain? What kind of captain sulks in Vaults, away from the real action?" Six scuffed.

The jackass could only stutter before he went berserk. He pummeled away at the Courier before gunshots sounded off. The captain slumped over Six, with fresh holes in the back of his skull. Six struggled to throw the recently departed before he climbed back onto his feet.

There, standing before him with the Mysterious Magnum, was the child. Most of his face was blurred, but he could make out dark hair and-

Six did a double take as he registered their eyes. They were a rich shade of green, just like his own. At first, he thought it was one of the twins, maybe Apollo. But then their face started to change shape, remold itself.

Six took a step back. The child was wearing his face now.

"What the fuck…?" was all he could utter before the boy- clone?- tossed the gun aside and bolted past him.

"Wait!" Six called out.

He was about to give chase when his face fell upon a cracked window. The face behind it was that of an elderly man, wearing the same lab coat as he did. There was a blue shirt with a yellow strip tucked underneath it, stained with fresh blotches of blood.

Six reached out toward it. So did the man. The elderly medic and Courier exchanged handwaves before taking a step back. This wasn't a window. It was a mirror.

And the face in it was not his own.

---

Date: October 12th, 1099

Location: Grinkhorn, Southern Ursus Border

Time: Morning

Six awoke with a jolt, head swiveling as he scanned the inn room. He sighed in relief as he checked the time on his Pip-Boy. 8 AM. ED-E floated over to him, chirping some concerned tunes.

"I'm fine, buddy," Six assured him. "Just had another crazy dream is all."

ED-E emitted some inquisitive beeps.

"Maybe later," he added as he looked toward Lyudmila's bed. "Where's she-wolf?"

ED-E emitted some puzzled beeps at the Courier. Six exited the Pip-Boy's 'app' and shuffled through several more before he found the tracker. Her phone was at the farmlands at the eastern edge of town if he was reading it right.

Six yawned and stretched his arms out. It's been days since their misadventure with the Cirmson Troupe. Since he told Lyudmila and those wandering medics the truth about himself. The four women have bombarded him with questions each night since then, and he returned fire with his own inquiries. The experience had been… illuminating for both sides.

All of them were stunned by his tales of the Old World's downfall. What sort of anarchy plagued it and what followed suit after the end of civilization. The three medics- the Followers (not of the Apocalypse, mind you)- were baffled by his medical history in particular. Surviving two consecutive headshots was one thing, but being experimented on by a group of floating brain jars sounded ridiculous. The only reason everybody believed him was because Liz sensed all of the alterations done to him. And even she was baffled by how any of that was possible.

Margaret was appalled at groups like Vault-Tec and the Crimson Caravan. She expressed mixed feelings about the Brotherhood of Steel, especially after Six played recordings supposedly made by their founder, Roger Maxson. The story of Robert House was intriguing to her, though she expressed no love toward him either. The tale of Joshua Graham and Six's efforts to keep him from giving in to his darker desires brought a smile to her and Shining's faces. All three Followers expressed sympathy for those of the Apocalypse and furrowed their brows when he brought up the Fiends.

Lyudmila was unsettled by his descriptions of New Reno and the Van Graffs, expressing surprise when he brought up Cachino and the Omertas. She showed discomfort when he regaled the Khan's bloody feud with the NCR and the Master's dreams of forced evolution. Her eyes narrowed as he recounted the Powder Gangers, Boomers, and the White Legs. And she was downright sympathetic to the backstories of his companions.

Just about everyone shared his disgust toward Ceaser's Legion, Mortimer's attempts to reintroduce cannibalism to the White Gloves, and the discrimination against post-human races. They all went wide-eyed at the atrocities of the Enclave on both the Eastern and Western Coasts. They were also rather surprised with the tale of the Remnants Six encountered, though he pointed out that surviving cells might not be so empathetic. Everyone expressed horror at the effects of the atomic bomb and the experiments of the Vaults he explored.

The Followers couldn't help but express some level of admiration for the New California Republic. Even when he showed nothing but contempt toward its Warhawks and expansionism, he held some respect for its soldiers and civilians. Six admitted that had he not seen the bigger picture- seen the infection eating away at the top brass and the cost of stretching themselves thin- he would've handed the Mojave to them on a silver platter and signed up with the Rangers.

Six himself found the similarities between Kazimierz's oligarchies and the corporations of Old America disconcerting. He sympathized with Margaret's struggle to bring change but was frustrated by Shining's cryptic sidestepping of his inquiries about her and Liz's past. When the Followers weren't around, Lyudmila would recount her time in Reunion and Siracusa to him. She expressed shock when he told her about what he discovered in Peterheim Middle School. She knew that Mephisto was mentally disturbed, but for him to go that far… she concurred with Six when he said that he'd kill that bastard on sight if they ever bumped into him.

She was also the only one to hear his story of Ulysses and the Divide. About his role in the settlement's destruction. Six admitted that his memories of the place weren't perfect, but he recounted feeling a sense of deja vu while exploring its ruins. How wave after wave of emotions crashed against his soul as he trekked deeper into it. And he mourned ED-E's counterpart after recounting its sacrifice.

Six shook his head and rubbed his eyes. He had better things to do than get lost in thought. He grabbed the cauldron and went outside for some water. Once it was filled, he dumped it into the drum barrel in the room and took another hot bath. These people had a working faucet outside. Couldn't they scavenge the plumbing from Rouilleton or the manor?

Would they even have enough for every house in the village? A part of him thought to himself. Or workers skilled enough to pull it off?

Six let out a disappointed huff as he finished washing off. He redressed himself and hauled the drum over to the window. Before dumping its contents out, He checked to ensure there wasn't anyone below. He didn't want a repeat of his first day here.

He went downstairs, ordered breakfast from the tavern, and then bolted back up to eat it. He still refused to show his face to the locals. If what Margaret said about the Troupe was true, any of their assassins could've survived the slaughter-fest and infiltrated the village during the chaos. Chayka assured him that they rooted out and executed all the spies after that night, but Six wasn't going to take any chances.

With his tank filled, Six ventured back into the village. The past few days have been blissfully uneventful. Some odd jobs here, some reading there. He had even gotten to do some polearm training with Margaret as part of a lecture for the locals. She kicked his ass in the ring more times than he could count.

Six had tangoed with many of the locals by now, but Margaret was a different animal. With her reflexes and strength, she almost resembled a super-soldier from one of those Old World sci-fi novels. It was hardly a wonder she inspired so much awe in the villagers and fear in Lyudmila.

Note to self; don't piss off the Kuranta paladin. He thought to himself.

Speak of the devil, and she shall appear. The knight stood guard outside the tent while Liz and Shining were tending to the ill and wounded. She was reading the copy of Tæles of Chivalrie he loaned her yesterday.

"Six," Maragert greeted. "Sleep well?"

"I've had worse," Six replied.

"Another nightmare?"

"Hard to say. I didn't wake up in a cold sweat or anything this time, so I guess not."

A small hmm' slip plast Margare's lips. "And how is Crownsl- ahem, Lyudmila doing?"

Six shrugged back. "She's still breathing," he said. "Heard she netted some bounties while I was taking lessons from Shining yesterday."

"That's not what I meant."

Six paused. "We've had a couple of chats about her past. Apart from that, nada. Guess she's still shaken by you-know-who."

"And you?"

"They're dead. We're not. I think we're good."

Margaret shook her head. "In my experience, such villains are like a hydra," she retorted. "Chop off one head and two more take its place."

A hydra… Aelius used the same word to describe his group. Nobody in Grinkhorn had heard of the Diavoli Neri, but that didn't mean that they weren't a front for some bigger organization. Someone like the Crimson Troupe or one of the 'Dodici Famiglie' Lyudmila spoke of.

Six tried to dig around in the manor's ruins for intel, but most of the texts he found were in French (or Gaulish as the locals call it). Chayka spent the last several days translating the one he brought. So far nothing major has come out of his work.

"And what about you and Lyudmila?"Six inquired. "You two ever speak to each other outside of storytime?"

Margaret shook her head. "She keeps her distance from me," she said. "Can't say I blame her, given our… superiors' relations. I'm not surprised by her decision to sever ties with hers either. Not after having her faith abused."

Six nodded in agreement. Faith was a volatile thing in his experience. When it's broken, people often find themselves at a loss. Some of them take a step back and analyze the situation before adapting. Others either spiral into despair or reject reality and double down.

"Your homeland, it was like Kazimierz and Columbia before it collapsed, right?" Margaret asked.

"Maybe?" Six replied with a shrug. "A lot of old terminals I hacked into certainly implied that it was well on its way to becoming an oligarchy. But I haven't seen either country yet, so I can't really draw a comparison right now. Especially since I was born long after the ashes settled."

"Right…"

Margaret reached into her pocket and pulled out a couple of cards. As soon as his fingers brushed against them, it scanned and downloaded them into its database. One of them was a business card for 'Lee's Detective Agency'. The other just had an address. Six tilted his head.

"That's a business card for a private detective agency in Lungmen," Margaret explained. "Well, officially they are one. Unofficially, they handle a lot of things in the gray zone. Rhodes Island- My old employers- had a partnership with them before I left."

"You think they can help me?"

"They at least understand that loose beaks cause leaks. And Mr. Lee's savvy enough to realize where those can lead. If anyone can get a lead on your… 'quarry', it's them. Who knows? Maybe Mr. Lee will make you the latest addition to his family of misfits."

Six snorted. "They can't be any worse than the one I made back home," he replied. "But what's the address for?"

Margaret glanced around before leaning into his ear. "My family estate," she whispered.

Six blinked. "Come again?"

"Kazimierz is as ripe with corruption and conspiracy as it is beautiful. If you find yourself in her nomadic cities, you will need sanctuary from the oligarchy. I'm offering you a place in mine."

"Why?"

Margaret put a hand on Six's shoulder. "Because we're kindred spirits," she explained. "You're the sort of person who wanders the world and drinks in all its glory. The kind of soul who doesn't sit on the sidelines and let evil flourish. An incandescence yearning to usher in dawn in a world of dusk. Someone… someone that wants to be the tides of change and wash the doubt away."

Six's gaze shifted away from Margaret for a moment. "And what about Lyudmila?" he asked. "Is she welcome as well?"

"If she truly wishes to walk a new path, then my doors shall also be open to her. However, should she return to her sinful ways, the doors will be the least of her worries."

"It won't come to that."

"Is that a promise, or a fact?"

"She watched my back for nearly two weeks. I doubt she'll sweep in to stab yours."

"Do you expect her to follow you into Lungmen? Or the local Infected to welcome her with open arms? Even after all this time?"

"No."

"Then how can I take your word when her only light in this world leaves her?"

"She's a grown woman. She doesn't need me to babysit her."

"But you're the only person keeping her grounded right now. Once Oripathy claims a host, very few people stick with them. She's had the misfortune of losing her guiding lights at a young age."

"Then shouldn't you or Shining be that light?"

Margaret furrowed her brows. "The Infected will only accept salvation from those they trust," she pointed out. "And my relationship with her is… complicated. Yours is more simple, honest even."

"And just what the hell do you expect me to do? Be her Prince Charming?"

Margaret paused. "Just… let her lean on your shoulder before you go. Set a fire in her heart and stoke it one last time before you return home."

Six lowered his head, processing her words. "Would she be willing to hear me out?" he wondered.

"She hasn't put a knife in your back yet, has she?" Margaret replied with a smile.

A soft chuckle fizzled through his helmet's vocoder. "I should get going," he said. "She's probably waiting for me."

"Hold on a minute. I got something else for you."

Margaret pulled out a book from her inventory. The cover was azure and ebony, with a rook chess piece on it. The title of it was "The Cycle of Oripathy; The Infection of the Human Body and Spirit." The author's pen name was rather cryptic, though.

The Doctor.

"It's a medical book written by one of my… former superiors."

Six couldn't help but notice something swirling behind her eyes. Something he hadn't seen much of since his arrival here. Nostalgia. Admiration.

Hope.

"They weren't just your employer, weren't they?"

Margaret shook her head. "No," she confessed. "They too are a guiding light. Even after leaving the company, I continue to follow in their footsteps."

"Why did you leave then?" he asked.

"To not besmirch their good name in my activities back home. I have already drawn the ire of the oligarchs there. I don't want to drag h- them into the murk of Kazimierz."

Six added the book to his inventory. "Well, knowledge is power," Six said. "And I could use all the firepower I can get. Thanks."

"You're welcome," Margaret replied before placing a fist over her breastplate. "May the light guide you through hardship and darkness."

Six offered her a curt nod and mirrored the gesture before departing.

The farm wasn't that grand from where he was standing. Sure it was sitting in a sea of green, but then again so was the rest of the region. It consisted of a small shack, barn, ranch, and a few fields of crops. No silos or windmills, but he did spy a couple of tractors and some bovine creatures pulling a rake along.

He found Lyudmila digging some potatoes out at a far corner of the field. Her wolf ears perked up as she heard his boots walking across the soul. Her face tilted up and she squinted her eyes as his feet came into view.

"Izvrashchenets," she curtly greeted.

"She-Wolf," Six greeted back.

"Why do you insist on calling me that?"

Six snorted. "Ain't it obvious?" he asked. "You're literally part wolf."

Lyudmila narrowed her eyes before shaking her head. "Hyena, actually."

Six shook his head. "Come again?"

"Hyena. I'm a Reproba, not a Lupo. What, you've never seen a hyena before?"

Six shook his head again. "Only in old nature books," he admitted. "They were on another continent before the Great War. Probably extinct by now. Wolves and coyotes are still abundant back home, though. I still find it hard to believe that my world's fauna are regarded as mystical beasts on yours."

"Hmpt. Suppose I can't blame your ignorance in that case. Still made yourself look like an idiot either way."

Six used the eye-roll gesture. "At least I'm learning," he retorted. "Not everyone has the balls to admit that they've made mistakes. Speaking of learning, when are you gonna give me a translation of that word?"

Lyudmila scoffed. "You're really that curious, huh? Fine, it means 'pervert' or 'freak'."

"You're still pissed at me for patching you up back in that necropolis?"

"Not as much these days. But you do need to bite that silver tongue of yours from time to time."

"What's the matter, never had anyone compliment you?"

"Your flirtations are obnoxious."

"[Ladykiller] I can't help but admire a kick-ass woman."

"Especially one who kicked yours?"

Six growled. Lyudmila giggled.

"So what did you want?" she asked. "Some singing advice?"

"Just wanted to check on you is all," Six replied.

Lyudmila snorted. "I'd thought you'd be playing hero right now," she noted. "Or Ladykiller with the Followers."

"Nobody needs saving or killing right now. And frankly, I'm not in the mood for dating anyway."

"Ah, what's the matter? Afraid that Shining or the Radiant Knight will turn you down? Or are you still licking your wounded pride after the latter floored you in front of the village?"

"They have their hands full as is," he retorted. "I don't think now's the best time for a romantic stroll through the woods either."

"So you do have a brain buried beneath those hormones," she teased. "And here I thought you were just a himbo. So, you're not dying of boredom then?"

Six shrugged. "Everybody needs a breather from time to time," he said. "And I at least get to practice my shooting and medical skills here. What about you? Are you feeling bored right now?"

"Nyet."

"Really? 'Cus I never took you as someone interested in farming. Especially after recent events."

"Moy nastavnik taught me some of the basics."

Six cocked his helmed head.

"My mentor," Lyudmila sighed.

"Ah. Wait, you two owned a farm?"

"Nyet. We briefly worked at one owned by a Famiglie, but we were forced to flee when their rivals burnt it down."

"Shit. Is there anything sacred in Siracusa?"

"If you ask a wise guy, it's 'honor'. But that's just a hound-whistle for 'obedience'. Your homeland has similar issues?"

Six nodded. "Some people try to live like the mafias of old," he said. "But it's just window-dressing for tribes one step away from becoming raiders. Or already had roots in raiding."

"But they don't last too long, do they?"

Six shrugged. "Beats me," he said. "The only families I know of are a pack of cosplayers and a cell from out west. The Van Graffs supposedly filled in a vacuum left behind by another family before expanding to the Mojave. Their representatives… got whacked on their way back to their don."

"Hmm…"

Six broke off from her momentarily to speak with one of the farmers. To her surprise, he joined her not long afterward. Six chuckled at her bewilderment.

"What?" he said. "You think you're the only one who knows a thing or two about agriculture?"

"Where did you-?"

"[Survival 40] Aside from books? I visited some farms before I became lord of New Vegas. And managed to sneak back to them on occasion afterward."

The two of them worked under the sun for the next few hours. Gathering crops, tending to livestock, a little maintenance work. It was grueling as hell with the Slave Collars on, but without them, it felt… oddly therapeutic. It offered a nice breather for the pair after everything they went through. Not as exciting as hunting or exploring, but it was a refreshing change of pace.

Six's motion tracker picked up movement. He drew a Light Shining in Darkness and pointed it toward the woods as some brush rustled. Lyudmila bolted upright and reached for her blade in response.

"What is it?" she asked. "Company?"

Six narrowed his eyes. "Hard to say," he said. "Cover me."

Six slowly approached the bushes, drawing out his Ripper. He poked and prodded at the brush with it, keeping an eye on his motion tracker. Nothing. He motioned for Lyudmila to do the same. No response either. Maybe it was just a pest?

Six grew impatient and revved up the handheld chainsaw, waiting for a reaction. The marker hadn't moved an inch. Everybody jumped as Six began hacking and slashing away at the shrubbery, demolishing it before their eyes. Only then did the marker shift. Or rather, vanish.

[Perception 5] Six and Lyudmila knelt and combed through the leaves and branches. All they found were some tracks. From the looks of things, they belonged to a canine.

"Just a fangbeast," Lyudmila concluded.

Six finally breathed as they rose back up. Someone whistled at them not long after. Both wanderers turned to see Morozov gesturing toward them.

"Boss wants to see two of you," he said.

The duo glanced at each other before calling a farmer over. Lyudmila chatted with them in Ursine before he nodded and waved them goodbye. The two of them followed Morozov back to the Black Death and into Chayka's office. The corpulent Liberi was sipping some coffee when the pair entered.

"Ah, good afternoon," he greeted. "Enjoying nature's bounties?"

"Not until recently," Six replied. "A part of me still can't fathom all this green."

"Hmm, left your heart in the wastelands, eh?"

"More or less. Is my ID card ready?"

"Almost. Just need a couple more details. Your photo and your new name. I've had the files on my computer for a while, but after recent events, I figured you two deserved some R&R. What did you want your new alias to be again?"

Six paused. The original plan was to go with 'Theseus Vela', but after his run-in with the Crimson Troupe, it might be best to go with something else. Six gave his list a brief reread before he made his decision.

"Jason Argonaut," Six replied.

Chayka furrowed his brows before nodding at him. He motioned for the young man over toward the camera as he prepared for the photo-op.

"Smile," said the eldest man.

Six gave him a subtle, cocky smile. His vision went white in the flash, prompting him to rub them. He growled as Lyudmila giggled in the background.

Chayka meanwhile bolted over to his computer and quickly typed something into it. He returned a moment later and handed them some sort of data pad and a… pen? Or was it a wand?

"Just sign your new signature here," he said. "You do know cursive, right?"

Six nodded as he grabbed the smart pad. It felt a bit awkward 'signing' something into a digital space, but after a few tries, he got a decent signature on the screen. The man gave the Courier a nod and fiddled with his laptop. A moment later a printer whirred to life and out came his new ID. When Chakya handed it to him, Six's Pip-Boy scanned and added it to its database.

"There you go, Mr. Argonaut," he said with a smile. "One free pass into society, two for every bar on Terra. Prices may vary. While I'm at it, would you like some licenses for your weapons?"

"License, for my weapons?" Six asked. "You're kidding me right?"

Chayka shook his head. Once again, Six growled.

"[Sneak 50] I can sneak plenty of weapons in," he retorted. "I don't need a damn license for them."

"Can you sneak those in?" Chayka retorted as he pointed at Christine's and Scout's rifles. "Or that one?" he added as he pointed at the Riot Shotgun. Then he turned his attention to Gehenna 2.0. "And that one?"

Six's scowl grew beneath his helmet. He could sense Lyudmila smirking behind him as the man sighed.

"Lemme ring up some templates for you," he said. "I can at least file some paperwork for them. How many do you have?"

"Probably at least a dozen," Six admitted.

Chayka's eyes nearly popped outta his skull as Six laid some of them on the table. He shook his head.

"Let's stick with up to three," he suggested. "Any more and we'll have to smuggle the rest in."

"I have ED-E for that," Six replied.

"And you're certain your buddy won't set off any metal detectors or rile up hounds and Beckbeasts?"

"Metal detectors? Like the kind that scans for coins and salvage? Or the handheld models used by pre-war police?"

"'Pre-war'?"

"Erm, 'civilized'."

"Hmm… Not quite. Certain people tend to carry weapons with them in the city, so various businesses have some metal detectors installed around the entrances. If the device's scanners detect any of such weapons, they'll ring an alarm. Unless you've got a coat that can conceal stuff from the sensors, I wouldn't advise going shopping."

"Then let's test one out and see if my coat fits the bill."

The man grunted in agreement as he took something from his desk. It certainly resembled something he'd scavenged in old police stations. The device didn't start beeping until he moved it toward ED-E. The eyebot emitted some agitated chirps.

"Well, both seem to have some shielding," he said. "But that outfit still makes you stand out like a sore thumb. Luckily our fixer's gonna provide a disguise for you anyway."

"Hold up, you already reached out to someone in Lungmen?"

"Of course. After everything you've done for Grinkhorn, it was the least I could do. Don't worry, you don't owe anything on my end. Our fixer's, though… well we'll discuss that after you sign these papers."

Six didn't like the sound of that. He pointed at the weapons he wanted licenses for and the middle-aged man popped them out. One for Scout's Rifle, one for Gehenna 2.0, and one more for the bow (which he dubbed Quincey). Six quickly signed all three of them, relaxing as he sheathed each weapon across his person.

Chayka pulled out the pin with his feathers from a drawer and handed it to Six. "Still want these, kid?" he asked.

Six nodded before pocketing it. "Just as a last resort," he said. "Anyone asks about my feathers, I'll just tell them it's a genetic defect."

"Family history?"

"Environmental pollution. Mutations and health complications are a cap-a-dozen among my generation."

"Cap?"

"Bottle caps. My community's fairly isolated."

"I see. Well, try not to go overboard with the drinks, alright? You don't want to embarrass yourself in front of your ferrymen."

"When and where are we meeting them?"

"Tomorrow morning. At an abandoned Originium mining facility on the outskirts of Lungmen territory. Lemme jot down the coordinates real quick."

Chayka took out a sticky note and wrote some numbers down. As soon as Six's fingers brushed up against it, it scanned and downloaded them into its database, adding a new marker on the World Map. He couldn't help but notice Lyudmila's eyes widening as she glanced at it.

"[Barter 45] You said that I might have to repay our client," Six noted. "But you didn't mention a particular price. I'm guessing they're not looking for monetary compensation?"

"Pretty much. They need a little favor from you while you're in town."

"Such as?"

"Helping the Rat King solve a problem."

"The Rat King?"

"The dai lo of Lungmen's Slums. The official translation is 'big brother', but these days it just means 'Mob Boss'"

"Mob-? Are you fucking kidding me!? I already had to fight my way through a horde of Siracusan wise guys last week. I ain't in the mood to put up with another mob."

"Don't worry. Mr. Lin is nothing like the Grey Hall and their thugs. He might rule with a firm hand, but he has a heart buried beneath his fancy coat."

"Did they say what sort of problem he had?"

"Nope. His representative is supposed to fill you in on the details."

His brows furrowed as he processed the information. He wasn't entirely sold on the Rat King, let alone taking a deal without knowing the full details. But then he reminded himself that people Carlitos and Cachino exist. Plus, he can always steal another car and drive off if things go south.

"I guess I'll take your word for it," he relented. "But who exactly am I going to meet?"

"Our fixer didn't identify themselves on the call. Probably scared of the Yanese Censors listening in on us. Can't say I blame them."

"Did they at least leave a clue?"

"We did entertain the idea of cryptography during our calls. I came up with a riddle for you two to recite at first contact. Lemme find it real quick."

Chayka scrounged through the papers in his office for a bit before he found a small paper. Just like those before it, the Pip-Boy scanned it as soon as it found its way into Six's hand. Chakya cleared his throat before continuing.

"The first must ask 'Where do you hear the dragon's roar'? The other must reply with 'at the gates of paradise'. How'd I do?"

"Snazzy," Six snorted. "But why not hell?"

"Because the Lungs aren't as greedy as the Dracos."

Six cocked his head to the side. Chayka sighed.

"Dracos. One of the two races that ruled Victoria until two decades ago."

"I'm assuming that they're part dragon."

"The fire-breathing kind, to be precise. One of their houses was reputed for their avarice and caused a bit of a stir before they all vanished."

"And the other race making up the ruling class?"

"Aslans. Lion folk. Some people think they're just a royal family of Felines who regard themselves as a master race. Word is they were involved in the Draco's disappearance and were overthrown by the nobility afterward."

"As retribution for the Draco's demise?"

"Ha! For daring to raise the aristocracy's taxes and not the common folk's. But enough about political strife. You should make a beeline for the mines ASAP. Shouldn't be any Caststrophes any time soon, and there's plenty of shelter still standing last I checked. I'd grab a tent just in case, though."

Six nodded and bid Chayka farewell, exiting the bar. He and Lyudmila decided to buy some more supplies before they packed up. Some extra ammo for Scout's Rifle, medkits, filters, rations, even a tent. Most of it would be for the hyena-girl. He had plenty of food and water for the trip, and he could always find more in the city.

The Courier dropped by the medical center to say goodbye to the Followers as well. Both Sarkaz women wished him good luck and handed Lyudmila some medicine for her Oripathy. She tried to turn them down of course, but she gave up after some pestering from them and Six. Liz exchanged one last look with them as they departed from the tent. Six had a hard time reading the emotions behind her sapphire eyes. To be honest, part of him bet that she was just as stumped as he was.

ED-E beeped out a greeting in binary as the two fleshlings returned. Six curtly briefed his robo-buddy on the situation as they packed their gear. The eyebot helped carry some of the supplies over to the Boar and tethered itself to the back via tractor-beam. Lyudmila, as always, took the wheel before they all sped off into the distance.

---

Date: October 12th, 1099

Location: Lungmen Border

Time: Afternoon

The rendezvous point turned out to be bigger than Six anticipated. He had seen a few old factories on Earth, but this… this towered over even the facilities of Big MT. Just how much Originium did they need to power their settlements? How much resources did those damn things gobble up?

Lyudmila had this wistful look in her eyes as they surveyed and scavenged the area. Something similar to when they first met in Chernobog. With recent revelations still fresh in Six's mind, it almost looked like… regret? Or perhaps grief?

The first place they searched was the barracks. There was hardly anything in them but worn tools, discarded medical kits, and the occasional photo. Lyudmila left them all be.

All except a pair in a pendant. She cleaned off the glass inside as she examined the locket. The first was of an Ursus couple with an infant. The second was of a woman- the same one from the first picture- with a young boy and girl. It didn't take a genius to realize that she knew them.

A blimp cropped up on his motion tracker. Six held up a hand, prompting an inquisitive beep from ED-E. He put his finger to his gas mask's vocoder as he crouched, then crept along down the hall and back outside. He spied a canine shape sprint off into the distance and gave chase.

It left a trail of smokey vapor toward the local mine. The entrance was sealed shut, but he found plenty of things there. Broken weapons, shields, crossbows. He could faintly pick up an exotic fragrance from some lumps of wax. The remains of candles, perhaps?

Several of those white masks dotted the area. Some dangled from the ceiling, others rested on pedestals or weapons. The latter had equally worn boots to keep the makeshift posts steady. Hell, there were even dog tags here and there. He had seen the NCR and Legion leave behind similar markers in the Mojave.

But one stood out front and center. It was a gas-mask, one resembling the M40. But that wasn't the most interesting bobble among the relics. No, that honor belonged to the MGLs flanking its sides.

[Explosives 50] Six swore he saw those in a copy of Duck and Cover once. It bore some resemblance to a model produced by a company in South Africa. 'Milkor', he believed it was called. Both of them have seen better days, though. While they certainly suffered under the elements, he noticed the telltale battle scars on them too.

The rouge marker reappeared on his HUD. He turned to see a wolf with smokey-grey fur and blood-red eyes walk up behind him. It didn't resemble any specimen from Earth he knew of, pre-war or post-war. He was expecting it to snarl and throw itself at him, but instead it just… stared. It sat down and stared at him like it owned the whole damn world. An ethereal air surrounded them as it locked eyes with the Courier.

"Indossi il mantello della Morte come un distintivo d'onore," echoed a voice. "Ti saluto, figlio di cenere."

Six blinked and swiveled his head around, trying to find the source of the voice. No additional markers cropped up on his motion tracker, nor did VATS lock onto anything. It was just him and-

The wolf and its IFF marker were gone. Six blinked before shaking his head. Dammit. Those fumes at the mansion must've hit him harder than he realized. He was almost tempted to flush it out with Fixer, but he reminded himself that his Pip-Boy hadn't detected any addictions since that night.

Six knelt and hovered a hand over one of the grenade launchers. He could feel the mystical aura of Originium in it, its circuits glowing a faint crimson. He was tempted to pick it up, but he hesitated. He almost lost his fingers trying to study a perfectly functional jetpack. He didn't know what would happen if he tried to dissect something as worn as those MGLs.

Someone called out to him. He turned to see Lyudmila and ED-E coming around a corner and toward him.

"What happened?" Lyudmila asked. "Did you find anything?"

Six shook his head. "Just a stray wolf," Six replied before motioning toward the vigil. "And this. Must've been looking for its pack."

Lyudmila tilted her head. "A wolf?" she asked in disbelief, crossing her arms.

"Yeah. You ain't got any out here?"

"Not this far east. They typically lurk in Siracusa or further out west."

"Maybe this pack got desperate and ventured out here for food?"

"Or maybe you're seeing things. You did get a whiff of that bioweapon, after all."

Six glared daggers at her before turning back toward the vigil. "You said that Reunion tried to launch an attack on Lungmen," he said. "Was this place a beachhead?"

"More like a forward operating base," Lyudmila said before shrugging. "The real 'beachhead' would have been the slums. Or at least that's how Patriot would've described it."

"Hmm…"

Six cast a glance back toward the MGLs.

"Don't even think about it," Lyudmila snapped.

"Don't worry, those things look like they'll explode at any moment," Six replied. "Though that wouldn't be the only reason to leave them be, now would it?"

Lyudmila shifted slightly, as did the glint in her eyes. She shook her head before motioning for Six to follow her. She led him back to the barracks, where the furniture was pushed against the walls to make room for their sleeping bags. An electric hot plate sat at the center, boiling some instant noodles. Lyudmila offered some to him. After scanning for contaminants, he accepted.

"How is it?" she asked.

Six shrugged. "It's serviceable," he said.

Lyudmila snorted in agreement. "It beats stale bread and mucky water," she added.

Six snorted back. The rest of the day was spent patrolling or training. During archery lessons, Lyudmila decided to make another bet. She challenged Six to another shooting contest, proposing that the winner take some LMDs. Six readily accepted.

Both of them were using traditional bows, so Lyudmila had the advantage when it came to draw strength. And since their targets were inanimate objects, Six couldn't use VATS. When it was over, he lost to her by three points.

"I guess you Wastelanders aren't at the top of the food chain after all," she laughed as he paid up.

Six didn't know which was worse at this point: her bite or her bark. All he could do was snarl as she sauntered back to their room. He spent the rest of daylight at target practice to blow off his newfound steam before joining her. She gave him a smug look as he sat down before the electric lamp.

Six summoned a couple of sketchbooks and a pencil from subspace and started doodling away. Six had drawn up some things and people from his homeworld to provide a visual reference for Lyudmila and the Followers. She recognized many of them based on Six's descriptions. The Deathclaw, Robo-Brain, Assaultron, nuclear warheads, Super Mutant, Brotherhood Knight, Desert Ranger, Legionaries, Uylesses, Think Tank, cyberdog (she was sensing a pattern with all of those brains), Cazadors, Nightstalker, Ghouls, Robert House.

She leaned over his shoulder as he sketched away. Margaret dressed up in some Power Armor while strange halos hovered above Shining and Liz's heads. The firearms they collected from those Sankta were present on another page, along with a model unfamiliar to her. That was one of those 'SMGs' Six spoke of, right? It certainly looked like Laterano's craftsmanship.

Wait. One of the most recent drawings was of her. More specifically, the maid's dress she wore at the manor. She yoinked the drawing book from Six and flipped through its pages, eliciting a 'Hey!' from him. There was another drawing of her, a portrait with her normal attire and her face exposed.

"Do you mind?" Six quipped. "I'm trying to jot down some memories while I still have them."

"What the hell is this?" Lyudmila asked, showing him the sketches of herself.

"Uh, memories?" Six retorted. "Just because I have a photographic memory doesn't mean it's guaranteed to last. I already lost my last batch to bullets. I'd like to preserve as many of them as possible."

"Do you really need to draw me in this?" she hissed, pointing at the maid outfit.

"No, but I thought I'd immortalize your cute glare before either of us kicks the bucket."

Cue the glare in question as she ripped the offending page out and tore it to shreds. Six's shoulders only sagged slightly before he snorted.

"Whatever," he said dismissively. "We're both still young. I've still got an eidetic memory."

"If you make another sketch like that, I'll break both of your arms."

Six laughed. "I'd like to see you try," he boasted.

Lyudmila gave him a dirty look, fingers twitching as she huffed. She took in a sharp breath and shook her head. Six smugly crossed his hands behind his head and relaxed some. That only lasted for so long before he turned back to her with a more serious tone in his voice.

"That marker with the gas mask and grenade launchers," Six said. "It doesn't belong to the average grunt, does it?"

Lyudmila shook her head after a beat. "Nyet," she replied. "It… belonged to a couple of troubled kids. You remember Sergei?"

"The scientist that was blackmailed into selling out your dad's research team?"

"Da. That marker belonged to Skullshatterer. AKA Alexander, and later Misha."

Lyudmil opened the locket up and showed him the photos inside. "His own children."

Six blinked and shook his head. She told him about Skullshatterer and Reunion's other lieutenants. About how he was radicalized as a young lad after an Infected Patrol squad beat his mother to death. But she never said anything about him having a father or siblings. Let alone still being a child.

"They were infants when the Fourth Army held them hostage, and when my father sealed the Sarcophagus. They released Sergei's children after the slaughter fest, but he never reunited with them for some reason. I don't know if he feared another kidnapping, or felt too ashamed to see them again, or what. All anybody knew was that he left his family. His ex-wife and children moved to a remote village, where they all contracted Oripathy. Someone ratted them out to the local Infected Patrol and they…"

Her fist balled up. "Misha fled into the wilds while Alex joined Reunion. The latter eventually found me in Siracusa a few years ago, claiming that he had some information on my father. He told me about everything that happened that night and who to blame. And when he spoke of Reunion, I decided to sign up. But Alex wanted me to prove myself first. And he had a particular target in mind."

"Sergei," Six realized. "He blamed his father for everything that happened to them."

Lyudmila nodded. "Among others. I followed his tips and found the old man. He was an empty shell by the time I found him. I asked if he was the traitor who sold out my father's crew, and he said 'yes'. I slit his throat immediately afterward."

"You should've interrogated him."

"You think I don't know that?! Alex and I were both drunk on vengeance at the time. If we had bothered with the details- if we simply asked him 'why'…"

Lyudmila closed her eyes as she held back tears. "After Talulah took Chernobog, Alex and I were sent to Lungmen. He happened across Misha and brought her back here. Showed her what Reunion was all about, or at least what we believed in. Even a little lesson in Arts from what surviving foot soldiers told me. Then Rhodes Island and the LGD launched a siege on this place."

"LGD?"

"Lungmen Guard Department. They're the city's gendarmerie."

"You mean Military Police."

"Something like that. Alex and one of Talulah's other lieutenants- W- were in charge of coordinating defenses here while I stayed in Lungmen. That Sarkaz bitch convinced him to make a break for the commanding officer of Rhodes Island and… and…"

The dam was beginning to crack. "He got skewered by Arts," she continued. "By the fucking CEO, no less. His squad mates carried the body back to his sister and she snapped. When nobody was looking, she donned her brother's outfit and masqueraded as him. She did this to raise Reunion's spirits, but she had no combat experience whatsoever. She barely lasted a few minutes on the battlefield before she got cut down too. We didn't even find out until after Rhodes Island arrested Talulah."

Lyudmila buried her face in her knees. "I should've been there for them. I shouldn't have left them with that psychotic devil. She let those kids throw their lives away, and for what? For that dragon to try to ram into Lungmen and start a war between Ursus and Yan? To leave the Infected as the scapegoat for a plot from a military-industrial complex?

"My whole squad got cut down by those Black Coats and I barely made it out of there alive. And just as I got out of the fire, I bumped into another 'traitor' from my father's group."

"There were survivors?" Six asked.

Lyudmila nodded. "One," she clarified. "The head of the Sarcophagus project and my father's mentor. Dr. Kal'tsit. I tried to avenge him, but she kicked my fucking ass. The only reason she spared me was that I didn't know the full truth. After she laid everything out to me, she asked several questions about Reunion's plan for the future. About what we'd accomplish if we took Lungmen too."

"She knew about Talulah's plan?"

"Nyet, the central platform hadn't begun moving at the time. Nobody pieced it together until it did. But even before that, her words got me thinking. Doubting. That was when I decided to sit on the fence and see where things went. And when the dust settled, I was the only figurehead left standing."

"But you passed the torch down to someone else."

She nodded again. "To a woman calling herself 'Nine, '" she chuckled. "I didn't think I'd meet someone with as lousy a taste in names until I met you."

Six rolled his eyes again. She giggled before that frown rotated back into place.

"But we lost so many good people back then. Killed some too. And worst of all… I realized that the people I blamed for my pain were just as much victims as I was. I robbed Alex and Misha of their father and left them at Rhodes Island's mercy. W might've sent them to their deaths, but I was the one who left them with her. I… I…"

The dam finally broke. She was too busy crying her heart out to notice Six placing a hand on her shoulder. So he pulled her into an embrace. That caught her attention.

"They were the closest thing you had to a family, weren't they?" he deduced.

Lyudmila looked away. "Them and the rest of Reunion," she admitted. "But I'm not sure I know what the word means anymore. I watched my uncle die and never got to say goodbye to my father. I abandoned my mentor to hunt down someone I blamed for the latter's demise, and had to beg for her forgiveness afterward. I abandoned Reunion and watched it collapse from Talulah's betrayal and infighting. And what do I have to show for it all?"

"You survived. You analyzed the situation and stepped down to let new life breathe into your movement. You returned to your mentor and made amends. And above all…"

Six scratched Lyudmila behind her hyena ears. "You helped me survive out here. I don't think I would've lasted this long without you."

Lyudmila blushed as he retracted his hand and looked away. "Well, you are a tupitsa," she cheekily remarked with an aside glance.

"And you're headstrong," Six retorted.

"But you survivalist types love strong women, don't you?"

Both of them chuckled. Lyudmila rested her head against his chest plate and closed her eyes. Her hyena ears could pick up his heartbeat beneath it. It pounded away like a drum, with a faint crackle beneath it. Six assured her that all of his original organs were returned to him, but he admitted that some alterations were made. Perhaps his heart was- what was that term some geeks back in Reunion used? 'Techno-organic'?

Six had a peculiar smell to him too. Ever since they met she couldn't get it out of her head. At first, she was disgusted by it, assuming it to be how disheveled he was. But once he washed off and the Troupe put that cologne on him, she realized that wasn't the case. He was… piquant for lack of a better word.

After the shitshow at the manor, she asked Yaroslava if she smelled anything on him. The Ursus vendor admitted that her nose might've picked up something off of him, but nothing strong. Or at least nothing that provoked a strong reaction.

"Maybe it's the old hag's training," she suggested. "Lupos and Perros are renowned for their sense of smell, after all. I'm surprised you don't make use of it often."

Then Yaro smirked. "Then again, maybe it's just your nose."

Lyudmila hadn't spoken to Yaro since then. She was not interested in that goddamned casanova. She hasn't even known him for that long anyway. They've only been traveling together for what, two weeks? The most they are is-

That train of thought skidded to a halt. What were they? Colleagues, for sure, but it felt like something more. Companions? Please, they haven't known each other for that long. Friends maybe?

Friends… she hadn't had those in a long time. Ever since her uncle's death, it was hard for her to find some. She invested so much time in her quest for vengeance that she almost forgot what the word meant. Yes, Patriot and Talulah were her idols, but that was about it. She got along with Faust and Yelena just fine, but never bothered to get close to them. Not like she could befriend the latter when she was a literal blizzard.

But Six? As much as she hated to admit it, they had much in common. Both of them were survivors brought into crapsack worlds. Both of them had to fight for their freedom and lives on a daily basis. And if his stories about the Divide were true, then he understood just how heavy one's sins can be.

She fell asleep in Six's arms. And for the first time in years, she slept soundly.

---

Date: October 13th, 1099

Location: Grinkhorn, Southern Ursus Border

Time: Morning

The first sense to return to Lyudmila was smell. Her nose picked up the scent of smoke, but not necessarily of ash or fire. Rather, it smelled like something was recently cooked. She yawned and stretched her arms out as her eyes fluttered open, rubbing them. She smacked her lips as she rose back up and-

She blinked and glanced down at herself. She was wrapped up in her sleeping bag. She spun her head around before her eyes landed on a certain robot. It chirped a greeting in binary at her as she noticed a couple of water bottles beside her. She twisted her head toward the exit as f footsteps echoed outside. Six walked into the room with a paper plate in each hand. It smelled like roast beast and scrambled eggs.

"Morning, huntress," Six said. "Sleep well?"

Lyudmila paused. She considered ignoring the question, but she decided to entertain him. "I have," she said. "No thanks to you."

"Really?" Six teased back. "And here I thought I was the cuddly one."

"I don't see any fur on you."

"But I do have animal magnetism."

Lyudmila rolled her eyes as she accepted a plate from him. Six plopped beside her as she munched away at breakfast.

"Not bad," she said. "But it could do with some seasoning."

"If I see any growing out in the wilds, I'll add it to the shopping bag."

Lyudmila swallowed and chuckled. He got her there. "Has your middleman arrived yet?"

"Nope. It's just us sinners."

Lyudmila furrowed her brows at the comment. Six twitched and cursed as he realized his mistake. The two of them briskly dined in awkward silence, throwing their trash into one of the many bins nearby. She sighed as she and Six returned to their room.

"Six, you know I can't follow you into Lungmen, right?" she said.

"Because of your history with that place?" Six asked.

"And because of my mentor," she added with a nod. "She's not a spring fowlbeast these days. She's expecting me back soon."

Six lowered his head.

"Are you… going to be alright there?"Lyudmila asked back. "You're not dealing with a burnt-out ruin or small town. You'll be walking among civilized folk. Probably people similar to those of your 'Old World'."

Six snorted. "I'm the goddamned king of Vegas, remember?" he reminded her. "I know how to behave."

"In a post-apocalyptic world. Lungmen's going to be nothing like any of your home's cities. You need to watch your back, Strelok."

"Hey, I got ED-E with me, don't I?"

ED-E bopped up and down as it emitted some prideful beeps.

"And 'strelok'? That's a new one."

Lyudmila tsked. "It means 'gunslinger', you rubberneck."

"Gunslinger, huh? Am I sensing a relationship upgrade?" Six teased.

"Don't push your luck, tupitsa," Lyudmila retorted. "Especially in the Rat King's territory. Do you even have a plan for when you step into it?"

Six flashed her the business card for Lee's Detective Agency.

"Where did you-?"

"From Liz."

Lyudmila blinked before shaking her head. "Alright, fine. That's as good a plan as any," she admitted. "But can you really trust them?"

Six shook his head. "Don't need to," he countered. "I just need to be careful with my choice of words."

"How long do you plan on staying in town."

"Until I find another lead back home."

"And if not?"

"Dunno. Maybe a month at most. Why? Feeling lonely already?"

Lyudmila grumbled and turned away from him, shifting her focus to his sketchbook again. Six was about to make another witty comment when she grabbed and jotted something down in it. Six narrowed his eyes and tilted his head as she showed him her portrait. Or rather, the address written underneath it. His Pip-Boy scanned and downloaded it as he stared. Two words stuck out; 'Volsinii', and 'Siracusa'.

"Hold up, is that your address?" he asked.

"More like one of my stomping grounds," she replied. "An old coffeehouse I used to frequent."

"So we are stepping things up a notch," Six teased. "And here I was, worried that you hated my guts. So who's paying for drinks this time?"

Lyudmila rolled her eyes yet again. "Coin flip," she said. "So try not to spend all of your lunch money."

Six chuckled. "I'm surprised you're leaving the door open for me, especially given our short time together. Why are you leaving this with me?"

"You said so yourself last night. You wouldn't have survived without me. And I doubt you will after so long."

Six's brows furrowed at her comeback. He could sense yet another smirk behind her mask as she crossed her arms.

"I don't exactly have a phone," Six pointed out. "Am I supposed to contact you in some other way, or am I supposed to sit there like a good dog while I wait for you?"

"Dog?"

"Canine. Hound."

"Ah. I'll probably drop by every other day and give the place a sniff."

Six booped her nose. "That so?" he asked. "You sure that little thing can pick me up in a crowd?" he asked.

Lyudmila scoffed. "Better than your anosmic nose, strelok."

Six snorted back. "Me? Anosmic? As if! This nose has sniffed out danger plenty of times."

"Oh really? Then how did Gieszler and those Sankta evade it?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

Lyudmila growled. Six laughed and was about to make another retort when ED-E blurted out an alert. It pointed toward the window with its blast, beckoning the meatbags over.

There, marching up toward their hideout were two figures in hooded jet-black ponchos. One of them appeared to have a similar height and build to Six, with white highlights on their garb. A duffle bag was slung over their shoulders while a shield rested in one hand. The other person more closely resembled Lyudmila, with royal purple accents on her cloak.

Six could make out tails swaying behind them, but he had to wait for them to move closer for a proper view. The shorter one had a… rat's tail, from the look of things. What did Croissant call the race with rodent features again? 'Zalak'? Their companion had a bushier tail dangling behind them, but they could be any race as far as he knew.

The shorter stranger glanced up toward them. "Excuse me," a feminine voice with a Chinese slant called out. "But I've been told that Lungs have the most angelic voices. Where might I hear the dragon's roar?"

Six and Lyudmila glanced at each other. "Have you tried sitting at the gates of paradise?" Six called back.

There was a beat before the taller one replied in a masculine voice. "We thought about it, but then we probably would've lost our hearing. So you're the problem solver the old fowl sent?"

"I am. And I take it you're his pen pal?"

"Her da- Ahem, our employers are. We're only here on their behalf. Mind if we join the club?"

Six glanced at Lyudmila. She was glaring daggers at the short stranger.

"What's wrong, girl?" Six whispered to her. "You smell something on that lady?"

She didn't appreciate his sarcasm. "There's something familiar about her," Lyudmila whispered back.

Six's brows furrowed. "Friend or foe?" he asked.

"Hard to say right now. But that outfit did bring up a sense of deja vu. Keep your guard up."

Six nodded, hands hovering his hands over his holsters. It didn't take long for the guests to find their way to the room. And for trouble to spring up.

The second that Lyudmila locked eyes with the mistress of mystery, they charged at each other. Six kicked in his GRX implant and drew out his Ripper and Gehenna 2.0, bolting between them. A grain of sand flew toward the woman as she drew up a wand, forming a blade of glass around it. He barely had time to block their blows, but he was able to keep their swords at bay.

He had a much clearer look at their 'guests'. The woman had the round ears of a giant rat atop her skull, and strands of pinkish hair (maybe silver pink?) flowing out of her hood. Pinkish eyes glared at them, slowly widening as she realized who had just stepped between them.

The other stranger was an anthropomorphic… dog? Six honestly wasn't sure what the hell he was. He at least possessed canine elements in his physiology, judging from the snout and ears (though the horn on his forehead only added to the confusion). He caught glimpses of fur on his arms as he pulled his companion back, suggesting that he was at least mammalian.

"The fuck's gotten into you two?" Six snarled as the burly stranger restrained his partner.

"I could say the same about you," the woman hissed. "Bringing Talulah's hellhound to Lungmen's doorsteps."

"I'm not with her or Reunion anymore, princess," Lyudmila snarled.

"Princess?" Six asked.

"Da, Mafia princess to be precise. She's Lin Yühsia, the Rat King's daughter."

"And you're Crownslayer, the terrorist," Yühsia spat back. "Do you know just what kind of grief you gave my father with your stunt?"

"Grief? You're one to talk, selling your father out to the Black Coats."

"I never betrayed anyone. You and Reunion, on the other hand, abused my father's trust. He offered you all an olive branch, and you repaid him by harassing the slums and attacking the main city. You drew the ire of the Censors and Shadow Guard with your riots."

"And you directed their wrath toward everyone. Not just Reunion, but every soul under your father's protection. Infected and normie alike."

"That's not what happened," the Defender accompanying Lin interjected. "She-"

Yühsia held up her free hand. "That's confidential information, Hung."

Yühsia turned her attention back toward Six. "Tell me, traveler," she said. "Did you know who your companion was?"

"I only learned of her dirty laundry days ago," Six confirmed. "But we've been traveling together for a couple of weeks. As you can see, she clearly hasn't backstabbed me."

"So you'd trust her with your life?"

"We both owe each other. And we've pulled each other's asses out of plenty of fires. Besides, your father ain't looking for a knight in shining armor, is he?"

Yühsia and Hung glanced at each other before both women cooled down.

"You do realize that she's a wanted woman in these parts, right?" Yühsia asked. "Being associated with her can be grounds for life behind bars, or the death sentence. Or an interrogation from Yan's Central Judicial Office."

"Don't worry," Lyudmila assured them. "I'm just a chauffeur for cowboy here. I'm heading back home after I see him off."

Six's head snapped toward Lyudmila as soon as the word 'cowboy' left her throat. She blinked at his reaction for a moment before smirking behind her mask. Six mentally berated himself for exposing his distaste for the word like that.

"You don't know how to drive a car?" Hung asked.

"I'm a wastelander, bub," Six replied. "Barely anyone's got a working set of wheels where I'm from."

"Oh. I can teach you if you'd like."

"That can wait," Yühsia butted in. "My father can't. Give him the bag, Hung."

Hung nodded, setting it on an empty bedframe. Six zipped it open and examined its contents. It was a suit, not too dissimilar from Manto d'argento. The main difference was the scarf and the inside of the coat were blood-red. Not to mention all of the scrap-on pouches, belts, and bits of armor. He could probably recycle one of the suits for raw materials if the other got shredded.

"This don't come with a mask, does it?" Six asked.

"Do you count the scarf and sunglasses as one?" Hung asked.

Six shook his head.

"Then nope, it doesn't. Are you disappointed?"

"Very."

Hung patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry. Those are more than enough to conceal your identity. We'll give you some privacy while you get changed."

Hung motioned for Yühsia to follow him as he left the room. The young woman gave Lyudmila the evil eye before they vanished into the hall.

"No peeking," Six said to Lyudmila as he started unpacking.

Lyudmila rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time today before complying. At least for a few seconds. Curiosity got the better of her, and she risked a glance. Her face turned cherry-pink as she gazed upon Six's form.

The other outfits that Six had worn for the past few days had clung to his frame, so she had a decent idea of his build. Seeing him semi-naked- seeing goddamned muscles- was another thing entirely. If it weren't for all the scars on him, she'd mistake him for an athlete. And unsurprisingly, he had no tail, tentacles, wings, or any other Terrans bits.

Six had only dressed his lower half when he caught her peeping. He smirked.

"What's the matter?" he teased. "Rad-rat got your tongue?"

Lyudmila stuttered before looking away and crossing her arms. "You look like a twig compared to some people," she huffed.

"Maybe, but brains and bullets always triumph over brawn," Six quipped back.

Lyudmila rolled her eyes. Her hyena ears twitched as she heard someone snicker. She turned toward the door but didn't see anything. She shook her head and grumbled under her breath.

"Y'all can open your eyes now," he called out.

Yühsia and Hung returned as soon as he gave the word. The latter seemed to be suppressing a smile for some reason. Six had three guesses but he had already embarrassed Lyudmila enough today.

"Well, it's got Kevlar and armor-padding," he said, admiring his new duds. "That's something. This thing can repel electromagnetic fields, right?"

"Yep," Hung replied. "Just as long as you don't brandish your sword or do anything stupid. You ready to roll out?"

Six shared a glance with Lyudmila. "Just need to grab some stuff from our car before we split," he said.

"You mean the boar?"

"You saw that?"

"Saw it? We packed our technical right beside it."

Hung led the party down their rides. Sure enough, there was a pickup truck sitting not far from the boar. The word 'Antony' was engraved on its grill, while the actual model - Hilltop - was imprinted on the driver's door. But the thing that caught his eye was the gun installed in the truck bed. Or rather, blaster. He could make out a battery where the ammo box should be, with faint glowing veins of crimson.

Six was about to inspect the trunk when he noticed Lyudmila opening the hood up. "What're you doing?" he asked.

"Checking for signs of tampering," Lyudmila replied. "For all we know, some Rusthammer could've rigged it with explosives."

The glare she sent toward Yühsia suggested otherwise. She gave the Reproba an evil eye of her own.

"An astute point," Yühsia replied. "Hung, give ours a check-up before we depart."

Hung let out a nervous chuckle as he went to work. Yühsia stood guard at her car while Six and ED-E guarded Lyudmila's. After a couple minutes of inspections and intense staredowns, both parties found that neither had been tampered with. Even still, Six was hesitant to leave Lyudmila behind. Even if his HUD didn't detect any enemies, even when VATS found no landmines or cloakers, he still lingered near her.

He felt a lump in his throat. His brain knew that this was the part where they bid farewell, but it practically forgotten how. The only thing it could recall was how much he hated the word 'goodbye'..

Lyudmila scowled at him. "What are you gawking at me for, zasranets?" she asked.

"I… er…" Six stuttered.

Lyudmila crossed her arms and tapped her feet impatiently, but then her mask crinkled slightly. "Don't tell me the rat's got your tongue?" she taunted.

"You can say that," Six admitted.

Yühsia glowered at the pair.

"I just… don't know what to say."

"Don't know, or don't want to?" asked Hung.

"..."

Lyudmila took a deep breath. "Well, I've got a thousand things I want to say to you," she said. "But we don't have the time for a sass-off, so…"

The next thing Six knew, he felt a pair of slim arms wrapping around him. He glanced down to see Lyudmila ensnaring him in a bear hug. She shifted her grip onto his shoulders, stood on her tiptoes, then ran a hand behind his neck and angled it down toward her.

She gently felt the scars on his forehead before resting on his cheek. Six froze up as she leaned toward his ear.

"I'll give you three months to meet at the rendezvous point," she whispered. "If I don't see you by the end of January, I'll assume that you either made it home or died trying."

Six blinked before shaking the shock off and chuckling. One of his arms wrapped itself around her to return the hug. The other reached for her hyena ears and scratched around them, eliciting a growl from her.

"Please, I got better things to do than die," he whispered back. "And even if I do find a way back, I'd at least like to stop by and visit my guardian angel before I go."

Her eyes widened at this before narrowing again. She gently freed herself from his grip and took a step back.

"J-just take care of yourself, okay, strelok?" Lyudmila said.

Six cocked his head in a coy manner and gave her a two-finger salute. "You too, huntress," he finally said.

ED-E chirped its own farewell to her in binary. Lyudmila nodded back before climbing into the boar. She was about to speed off when Six called out to her. He handed her a couple of strange syringes. One of which had a strap around the needle.

"What are these?" Lyudmila asked.

"Stimpaks," he said. "They boost the human body's healing capabilities. They're primarily used for postoperative care, but they're handy for sealing up cuts and bullet wounds."

He pointed at the smaller of the two. "This is the regular dosage," he said before gesturing with a larger unit. "And this is a Super Stimpak. Far more potent chems, especially useful for dealing with chronic damage. But it can leave a nasty after-shock and numb the hell outta you. You might also feel a bit of fatigue and dehydration, so I'd advise against using it in the middle of combat. You Reprobas seem to handle the normal stimpaks just fine, but the Super variant? I honestly don't know how you'll react to it. Use at your own risk."

Lyudmila stared at the stimpaks before pocketing them with a brief 'Spasibo'. As soon as he stepped back, she revved up the engine and finally sped off into the horizon. She couldn't help but stare at his reflection in the rearview mirror as she drove away. Her attention bounced between him and the road ahead until his silhouette disappeared entirely.

A hand hovered over her chest before balling it up. She never put much stock in prayer, especially what happened to her uncle. But just this once, a small part of her turned to it. A small voice prayed that whatever powers that be watch over Six. To protect the first friend she ever made in a long time.

Six didn't budge until her car vanished into a dust cloud. A concerned chirp from ED-E convinced him to climb into the back seat of the Hilltop. Hung took the wheel while Yühsia sat in the passenger's seat. ED-E floated over beside its master. Once everyone hit the road, she pulled her hood down and turned her gaze back toward the dimensionally displaced duo.

"I suppose now is the time for introductions," Yühsia said. "I am Lin Yühsia, daughter of Lin Gray. And this is Hung."

"Nice to meet you," Hung said with a wave.

Yühsia's brows furrowed. "Your fixer never did mention your name," she recounted. "What should we call you?"

Six paused. Part of him contemplated going with just that, but he didn't know if he could trust either of them.

"You can call me Jason Argonaut," he finally said. "This is ED-E."

ED-E issued a standard greeting in binary.

"I'm assuming that is merely an alias," Yühsia noted.

"It is," Six confessed. "Now that we're acquainted, can you tell me what my end of the bargain is?"

"That can wait until we rendezvous with my father."

Six glared behind his sunglasses. The paranoid part of him was worried about getting shanked, but then the rational part reminded him that she would've done so by now. Still didn't make him feel any better, though.

Something gleamed ahead in the distance. Six squinted his eyes for a moment before they got closer. His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when he finally got a good look.

There, up ahead, was a city on a roving platform. He had already seen Chernobog, but that place was just an urban ruin. Lungmen, however, was very much intact and mobile. And despite this, all those buildings- all those skyscrapers- still stood proud. Anyone attempting to pull this off on Earth would watch everything topple over like dominoes.

He had a hunch that this world's physics differed from his own, but seeing those laws in action… Someone like Arcade would pull their hair out from the major shift in logistics. It was already driving him mad from the calculations he was running.

Hung chuckled as he glanced up at the rearview mirror. "First time seeing this place?" he asked.

"First time seeing an intact city," he confessed.

Both Lungmenites arched their eyebrows. "Truly?" Yühsia asked.

"Yep."

The technical darted underneath the industrial beast. Yühsia picked up a handheld radio and spoke to it in Yanese. Someone on the opposite end responded in kind and a ramp descended from the colossus. The car drove up it and into the urban jungle, parking inside of a weathered garage. It was far smaller than the ones he saw in Chernobog, housing only a handful of vehicles. Not to mention in far better condition, for obvious reasons.

Yühsia led the party up a flight of stairs and into a warehouse. Some more Zalak in grey suits waved at and greeted her in their native tongue as they walked by. Some of them froze up as they laid eyes on Six, though a wave from Hung often alleviated their anxiety. And as soon as they got outside, Six's jaw dropped.

If House were standing here with him, he would probably go mad from envy. While Vegas fared better than most cities, it was still very much a ruin. Lungmen showed no signs of degradation or a nuclear holocaust whatsoever. It- or at least the district they were in -had far more lights than the Strip. The architecture was unlike any he had ever seen before, too. In the flesh or from the pages of Pre-War books.

"Welcome to Lungmen, Mr. Argonaut," Hung said, stretching his arms out. "First stop: downtown."

Notes:

And here we are at last. After all these chapters and years, we've finally reached the gates of paradise. But all is not well in the dragon's den, especially in the rat's nest. What could be ailing the Rat King, you may be asking? Well, you'll just have to wait and see.

So first of all, the exposition dump. I didn't feel like typing all of that up and just put in the previous party's reactions. Arknights has a lot of shady groups, but I think a lot of us can agree that Fallout has far worse ones, by comparison. Even before the apocalypse.

As for the Followers themselves, it's safe to say that he's made some of his first genuine allies. People he feels he can really trust. The info they've given him on Kazimierz is gonna be a lifesaver if he ever makes his way there. I already can imagine him going butting heads with Mlynar and Whislash, and bonding with Blemishine over their interest in technology (though her name might put him off a bit initially). Hell, the latter in particular could give him some input for his Power Armor if their friendship's strong enough.

And while we're on the topic of friendships, let's talk about Crownslayer. Honestly, she wasn't my first choice for shipping with him when I initially drew up the outline for this story. But as time marched on and some folks posted reviews on FFN, I started contemplating it. Apart from her animal traits, she'd blend right in with a crowd back on post-apocalyptic Earth and has a fair amount in common with Six. For now, though, I want to leave the door open for other possible suitors.

Would a relationship with anyone interfere with his quest to head home? Absolutely. But as with real life, not even romance is eternal. Doesn't mean that he can't give it a shot, of course. Even if a breakup does occur, both parties can use the time they spend together to improve themselves and gain the experience needed to maintain a relationship.

What about harems or polyamory, you might be asking? I don't have much exposure to the former, and I'm not sure if I could pull off the other organically either. And frankly, Six's Charisma probably isn't high enough to form a very big pool either. At most, he'd probably hook up with and maintain three or four love interests in that scenario, one lady per Point. Maybe two if we make it one lass per every couple of Points. And I doubt he'd want to pursue that route because he's probably seen harems and love dodecahedrons collapse into bloody messes back in the Wasteland.

So yes, I do plan on exploring the chemistry between him and some more potential suitors, but that doesn't guarantee that any of them will form a genuine romance with him. A healthy relationship takes time and trust to build. A one-night stand, though? Well, the Courier can bed with multiple people in New Vegas, yet none of those really lead to anything romantic. The Sole Survivor can also have one with Magnolia too, if my memory's correct. So we might see one down the line. Might.

Next chapter, Six navigates his way through an urban jungle. Rats, cats, wolves, and devils, oh my! And unfortunately for him, the latter breed is one he's all too familiar with. Since he hasn't really gotten to know any of the major players in Lungmen yet, the chapter titles I listed off last time may still crop up.

Of course, there're some new contenders as well. From rat-related puns like 'Rat-Trapped', 'The Rat Pack', 'The Rat King', and 'Cornered like a Rat', to canine-based ones like 'Lone(ly) Wolves' and 'A Hound in The Boiler'. For the musically inclined, 'Machine Gun', 'Keep Some Faith', 'We Walk on Broken Halos', 'Robots in a Dream', 'Neon Red', 'City of Night', 'Night on Fire'. Oh, and ye old 'Concrete/Urban Jungle'.

Dammit, so many good ideas! I guess we'll just have to see where the digital pen goes from here. Oh, and I just cross-posted onto SpaceBattles, so if you like that style of format, you can follow this story there.

PS: I just realized that I posted this around 810nicle day. Huh. Well, happy belated 810nicle Day, everyone. And I finally managed to get more fanart posted here. Once again it's (moko) go la king. Had to go look it up and link it from Twitter.

Chapter 17: The Rat Pack

Date: October 13th, 1099

Location: Lungmen Slums

Time: Morning

Six had seen all sorts of zany shit in his new life. Killer holograms, raiders cosplaying as the Roman army, Super Mutants with invisibility, ghouls flying off in rockets, a flaming Yao Guai, a badass religious man in bandages and old riot gear. Hell, even little green men and a saucer.

But finding himself in a city filled with anthropomorphic animals and working cars? A city that looked like it jumped out of photos of the Old World? A proper metropolis with thousands, perhaps tens of thousands or even millions of healthy citizens living in it? That took the cake.

He was even more surprised at how the beast folk lived alongside the other natives. He would've thought they were separate species, but no, they were the same race as the near-humans. They weren't even considered a mutation or deviation of any kind. Hung couldn't help but chuckle at Six's befuddlement.

"Yeah, I've gotten plenty of strange looks from foreigners myself," he recounted. "But none of them reacted the way you did. You never really seen anyone with this much fur before?"

Six shook his head. "My people and I are… fairly isolated."

"Really? Huh. You don't strike me as an Aegir or Vouivre. What are you?"

Six shrugged. "Liberi, I guess. Can't say for certain. Amnesia."

"Ah. I've met plenty of amnesiacs. Some of them didn't even know what race they were until someone put them through a blood test."

"I'm guessing that certain races tend to get mixed up with each other?"

"Yep, some people have trouble telling the difference between a Lupo or Perro. Or a Vouivre and an Archosauria."

"Or a Lupo and Reproba?"

Yühsia's eyes narrowed. "Are you referring to your previous partner?"

Six paused before nodding. Hung chuckled again.

"Don't worry, you aren't the first. Heck, even I thought the same until I saw her profile."

"Her profile?" Six asked. "The LGD's distributing bounties on Reunion survivors?"

"They did for a time," Yühsia replied. "But as the organization faded into obscurity, so did the need for bounties. And frankly, most of Reunion's leadership was written off as KIA."

"Like Patriot and Faust?"

Yühsia nodded.

"I'm surprised that people moved on from them so easily."

"They were only a pretext for war from an Ursus conspiracy. There was no point in hunting pawns when the hand manipulating them was the real threat."

"You mean Talu-"

Yühsia's finger crashed into Six's lips before he finished the word.

"Names hold power, Mr. Argonaut," Yühsia cautioned. "That one alone carries more than all of Reunion combined. And plenty of people on this half of Terra would kill to obtain it. If you wish to remain a free man, I'd advise you not to utter it."

Six stared at Yühsia before slowly nodding. "And what about Tatiana?" he asked. "How much is her's worth?"

Yühsia arched an eyebrow before she got the memo. "For now? Nothing. But opening up old wounds would certainly give someone an excuse to dust off some old fliers."

"To pin back up, or to strong-arm?"

"You really think someone would try to hire an ex-assassin?"

"You live in a world of intrigue, don't you?"

"And you?"

"Survival."

Yühsia furrowed her brows. "You spent some time with that woman, yes? What are your thoughts on her?"

"Why do you ask?" Six asked back.

"Maybe the princess here wants to know if you believe in second chances," Hung speculated with a smile. "What do you think, Mr. Argonaut?"

Six closed his eyes as he mused over his answer. "She was dealt a bad hand," he said. "And she's trying to make the most of it. She's fucked up some, but she wants to do better. Wants to be better. It's all any of us can hope for."

Hung nodded. "Truer words have been said. Wouldn't you agree, Ms. Lin?"

Yühsia paused before giving a curt nod and grunt. "But those aren't your only thoughts, are they?" she noted.

"Yeah," Hung added with a grin. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say there was magic between you two."

Six paused again. It's true that he felt a chemical attraction toward Lyudmila. Why wouldn't he? She had a nice body and cute personality, was a badass, and they could sympathize with each other's pain. But genuine romance? They hadn't reached that kind of bridge. And he didn't know if he was ready for that kind of commitment. Not after-

Six shook his head. "Just chemistry, as far as I can tell. She's probably better off with a loc- ahem, with someone else."

"What makes you say that?"

"Let's just say that I made a lot of enemies back home. I've had friends and loved ones caught in their crosshairs for being associated with me before. I don't want the same to happen to her. And she probably feels the same about me."

Yühsia ruminated over his response before giving another nod. "I can honestly relate. Father and I have had to push away friends and family to maintain order in the slums. You know how that goes; 'needs of the many outweigh those of the few'."

Needs of the many, huh? Six thought to himself. That was the same thing he said to his Companions back on Earth when they asked about Vault 34. Was Lin's excuse as much a lie as his was? Or was she being sincere?

"Speaking of needs, what exactly does daddy need an outside contractor for?" Six asked.

"I told you, he would discuss your contract with you in person," Yühsia reminded him.

"[Perception 5] You only said the details," Six pointed out. "And where I'm from, being a know-nothing gets you killed or worse."

"What can be worse than death?" Hung asked.

Six stepped in front of the duo and gave them a cold glare. "Living as a warlord's concubine for one thing. Experimentation for another. Indentured servitude. And gods help your soul if the jackass decides to raise your debt every Sunday in that scenario."

He took a step forward. "[Barter 50] All I want is a clue at what I'm getting myself into. If you really insist on having your father give the details, fine. But I'd like to see some of the roadmap before starting the journey. So, are you gonna fill me in?"

Yühsia bit her lip before she finally spoke up. "There's a disease spreading in the slums. And it's eating away at everything."

"Not something a medic can handle?" Six asked.

Yühsia shook her head. "If it were, we would've called in a house doctor. Instead, we reached out to you. My father would be more than happy to discuss the cause and symptoms."

Six lowered his head. It wasn't as much as he'd like, but at least he could get an outline. Knowing how Old World mafias operated, probably extermination (or at least assassination). He can accomplish those, no problem.

Suddenly something appeared in front of him, prompting a karate kick. His leg phased through a short blond girl in a frilly outfit, yet she didn't register the attack. An electric blue aura emanated from her body as she waved at him. Six immediately realized what she was; a hologram.

He bolted behind a post box and took cover. He was about to shout for everyone to find their own, but then he noticed something odd. The hologram wasn't shifting colors, let alone firing lasers. Now that he thought about it, neither VATS nor the motion tracker had registered it.

He poked his head out and caught a glimpse of the projector. It was a small disk hidden among some shrubbery, with a ring of Originium red in it. He crept up to the hard light entity and snapped his fingers in its face. It just danced and galloped with a smile as it spoke in various languages.

"You alright?" Hung asked.

"Y-yeah," Six said. "Didn't know that friendly holograms existed is all."

"Friendly?"

"As in 'doesn't try to vaporize you with lasers'."

"Woah, seriously? Where'd you even find that sort of thing?"

"An old testing ground in the Wasteland. That's all I'm at liberty to say."

Six cocked his head as he walked around the digital illusion. There was something familiar about her outfit for some reason. Maybe it was the colorscheme, but he had a hard time seeing it through the digital haze.

"So who's this chick supposed to be?" he asked.

"What, you never heard of Sora?" Hung asked.

Six shook his head. "Some new artist?" Six asked back.

"Not quite. She's been in the idol business for at least a couple of years now."

Six cocked his head again. "Idol? She's not part of a cult is she?"

"Part of a-"

Hung burst into laughter. Yühsia furrowed her brows at Six before the Defender finally calmed down. "Oh man, being bedazzled by our home is one thing," Hung wheezed. "But full-blown culture shock? How can your people live without music?"

"Who said anything about my folks being uncultured?" Six playfully retorted as he inserted a holotape into his Pip-Boy.

Que Danny Kaye and the Andrews Sisters in 'Civilization'. Hung couldn't help but snap his fingers to the song. "Catchy," he said. "I thought you Columbians moved on from those kinda tunes, though."

"Not my folk," Six replied. "My partner exposed me to new genres on our ride's radio. Pop rock, heavy metal, synthwave, dubstep, techno, hardbass, rap. It was…. enlightening."

"I'll beat," Hung said. "Sora's dabbled in at least half of those genres and more. She's uh… what's that word for someone that specializes in many things?

"[Intelegence 7] 'Renaissance woman'?"

"Yeah, that. Hard to imagine someone like her navigating through the musical world with such finesse. Say, you wouldn't know your way around instruments, would you?"

"Just a harmonica and guitar," Six said with a shrug. "Why? Looking to strike up a band?"

"Nah," Hung replied. "Just remembered that Mr. Lin here could use a drummer or guitarist for the parade. The princess here has a beautiful voice and all, but she could use some strings or beats to add some flavor."

Yühsia rolled her eyes. "I doubt my schedule as is would allow me such privileges," she said. "Besides, is that karaoke recording not enough?"

"Hearing a recording and the genuine article are two different qualities," Hung replied. "And hey, it's not like Monster Records can sue you for copyright infringement anyway."

"Monster Records?" Six asked.

"The studio Sora works for," Hung explained.

"Ah."

More and more of those holograms cropped up. Some of them were cartoony characters, others were just digital signs and animated posters for products. One projector even displayed a news feed with footage of a festival and some interviews. Too bad he barely understood a word they were saying.

As the party and time marched on, the skyscrapers and the IFF markers began to dwindle. Cafes, restaurants, retail, a couple of parks, a race track, and even an artificial river cropped up and took their place. Eventually, they made it to a construction site with some warehouses. Just beyond were some industrial ruins: graffiti, crumbling infrastructure, huts assembled from salvage and rubble, flickering neon signs. It almost reminded him of Freeside.

Three things caught his eye. The first was a partially collapsed coliseum in the distance. It looked like one of those old stadiums he'd seen in Pre-War tapes and photos. The second thing was the cluster of tenements in the opposite direction. The way they were packed together, they almost looked like a barrier or a maze. Those further apart seemed to have ramps and makeshift bridges atop them. It looks like parkour was a key element in that region. Could be a good place to practice grappling.

The last one was the rusted towers further off into the distance. From where he was standing, it looked like a refinery—probably for the originium they'd mined. Considering the size of the old mine, he would've thought it'd be bigger. Then again, it might've only been one of several. Just how much energy was being pumped through this city's veins?

Six glanced around the site. All of the materials and vehicles bore some company brands on them, but he still had a flimsy grasp of Yanese. His understanding of architecture was also limited, but he was almost certain they were meant to be apartment buildings. Was someone renovating the slums, or setting the stage for gentrification?

ED-E emitted agitated chirps as they walked through the sight. Six was about to ask what was wrong when new markers—red markers — appeared on his motion tracker.

Six barely had time to shout 'contact!' before the enemy sprung their ambush. Yühsia threw up a glass dome around herself while Hung ducked under his shield. Bullets and bolts rained down on them from the rooftops. ED-E and Yühsia returned fire with lasers and glass shards while Six grappled upward.

The assailant waiting for him was a man in a fancy plaid suit and hat, with salvaged armor pieces over it. In his hands was a strange sniper rifle, with a shovel's handle as the stock. Six toggled VATS and Crippled both of his arms with Lucky. Then he revved up his Ripper and tore him in half.

A bolt scrapped against his sleeve before he could loot the fresh corpse. He spun around to see a Lupo wise-guy with a rapid-fire crossbow. He emptied the rest of Lucky's chamber into the goon's chest cavity, breaking his poise. A laser sliced through his throat before Six could exploit the opening.

"That was my kill!" Six called out with jest.

ED-E emitted a series of coy beeps as it vaporized another gangster. Six playfully shook his head as he crouched and reloaded. He risked a peek from the roof and checked in on his tour guides. Hung was as good with his fists as his shield and a quick thinker on his feet. Yühsia was much more elegant, dancing around grunts and hacking them with a fancy glass blade. Those glass bubbles she conjured up managed to withstand an onslaught of assaults, from bare fists to bullets.

[Guns 69] Speaking of bullets, Six used the opportunity to scourge the recently deceased's pockets. At a glance, the bullets appeared to be .308 rounds, but a further inspection revealed otherwise. These were actually 7.62mm. From his understanding, this round was reserved for the US military before the Great War. He heard talk of some people in California digging these babies up, but nobody's found any in the Mojave.

But that wasn't the most disturbing part. What disturbed him was how… mundane the rounds felt in his hands. None of the ethereal glow or warmth of Originium whatsoever. A sniff at a spent shell confirmed his fears. These were Earthling rounds.

Six examined the corpse itself. No horns, ears, tail, etc. This was a fellow Wastelander. Probably one of the thieves that started his whole quest in the first place. Six cursed under his breath for being so quick to the draw. He could've at least gotten a couple of answers from this jackass before capping him. He was a bit intrigued by the emblem, though; A bleeding heart in crosshairs.

He shifted his attention back to the ground as the euphony of combat died down. Some of the grunts lay dying, choking on their own blood. Others merely tossed and turned or limped away with their legs between their tails. Yühsia glanced up at the Courier when she sensed his gaze.

"Are you alright?" she called out.

"Don't worry," Six shouted back. "This ain't my blood. I'm more worried about you two."

"We're both fine," Yühsia explained. "Though I can't say the same for our assailants."

Hung was busy tying up the survivors and treating their wounds, slinging one of them over his shoulder when he was done. Six strapped the homemade rifle onto his back and hopped down to rejoin the party. He looted the bodies on the ground, checking to see if any were Earthlings as well. One was, and all he had was a .44 Magnum revolver and some chems. Six stuffed his goods into subspace before turning back to the Lungmenites.

"I take it these guys are the disease you spoke of, doc?" he inquired.

Yühsia nodded. "They'd hardly be the first to send assassins my family's way," she confirmed. "But this particular pack at least kept to the slums. For them to venture beyond it… they're getting bolder."

A Lungmenite in a white coat came running onto the scene. Like Hung, he was a xeno with mammalian traits such as a snout and fur. And much like him, Six had trouble determining the newcomer's race. Six instinctively redrew Lucky, but Hung put a hand on his arm. The look on his face convinced him to holster it.

"Is everyone alright?" asked the stranger with a huff.

"We're fine, Aak," Yühsia assured him. "But what about my father?"

Six almost scoffed at the native's name. Aak? He thought to himself. And people call my name stupid.

"Safe and sound," Aak replied. "Your old man was starting to get worried about you. He almost sped off to your side when we heard the gunfire, but Lee talked him into letting me out instead. Looks like you had things under control."

"Naturally."

The furry tilted his head as he counted the ones in her party. His eyes widened as they landed on Six and ED-E, more so when he saw the fresh pile of ashes.

"Woah," Aak blurted out. "That our exterminator?"

Yühsia nodded.

"No need to worry, bro," Hung assured Aak with a handwave. "He doesn't bite."

"Bro? You're brothers?" Six asked.

"Not by blood," Hung replied before gesturing toward the surviving grunts. "Mind sending someone to fetch these guys? I gave them basic first aid, but I think some of them need your needlework."

Aak sighed before reaching into a pocket and pulling out one of those smartphones. He spoke into it for a moment before handing it to Yühsia. Judging from the sighs and the faces she made, Six had three guesses as to who was on the other end of the line. She handed the device back to the cat-kid soon after.

"Some able bodies are already on their way here," she said. "You two stand guard until then."

Both of the Beast Men nodded as she and the offworlders ventured into one of the warehouses. Just when Six thought things couldn't get any weirder, they did. There, sitting in the back, was an anthropomorphic rat in a suit. He was chatting away with a… fish man? The tail certainly brought the carp to mind.

Both natives turned when they heard the party enter the scene. A hearty smile grew on the Rat King's face as he got up and hugged Yühsia. This guy was her father? How the hell does genetics work on Terra? A part of Six almost dreaded the answer.

The elders then turned their attention to Six. They attempted to include him in their conversation, but the tilt of his head revealed how little Yanese he knew. The lizard(?) man cleared his throat before speaking up again in Victorian.

"So, you're our exterminator?" said the reptile(?).

Six shrugged. "So they say. Everybody's been all cloak-and-dagger with me, but considering recent events, I guess I can't blame y'all. And you are…?"

"My associates call me Lee," The native said, offering his hand. "And I'm sure you already deduced who this gentleman here is. Our mutual friend never told us your name, though. What should we call you?"

Six scanned him with VATS before shaking his hand. "Argonaut."

Lee arched an eyebrow. "'Naut'? Like'naútēs'?" he asked. "The Minos word for 'sailor'?"

Six mirrored Lee's expression. "Huh. And here I thought I was the only person in this room that knew the tongue."

"Our little fowlbeast said you had deft hands, but nothing about you being a linguist. Do you go to college?"

Six shook his head. "Just scrounged up whatever books I found in the wastes," he confessed.

"Ah. And your grappling hook too?"

"Among other things."

"Hmm. Well, as ecstatic as I am with meeting a fellow intellectual, I believe we have more pressing matters at hand."

Mr. Lin nodded and guided everyone toward a notice board. One with papers and photos stapled onto it. With all the colored yarn and tacks dotting it, it looked like something from the mind of a conspiracy theorist.

"A few months ago, a new gang had immigrated into the city's underworld. At first, they abided by the rules and got along with everyone. They stuck to the smuggling trade, things like drugs and weapons. But as time passed, they got feisty, pushing and prodding at everything they saw. I've tolerated their antics for a time because they left the civilians be. But then these started cropping up."

The Rat King tossed a couple of items onto the table. One of them was a rusty revolver cobbled together from salvage and scrap metal. The other was a freshly printed magazine with said weapon on its cover. Six blinked as he examined each of them. The magazine didn't just contain instructions on constructing the gun, but also some advertisements for an underground arena. And some incendiary drawings of the Rat King and Yühsia. He couldn't read the Yanese characters beside them, but he wagered that they were just as vulgar.

"Suddenly gang violence and unrest escalated around here," he continued. "Thugs started assembling and carrying these glorified slingshots, shooting up anything that moved. The old stadium- neutral grounds where everyone in the Slums can receive medical treatment- was flooded with people caught in their skirmishes. We found many gangsters and civilians in a berserk state and conducted drug tests after subduing them. All of them tested positive, yet their concoctions possessed… unique elements. Elements exclusive to a certain group of contrabandists in the old mining platform. Mr. Lee was about to launch an investigation when the prime suspects declared war on me."

"Declared war?" Six asked.

"Yes. Recently, they launched a hostile takeover of the metro station near the old stadium. That area is the slums' gray market and another neutral zone under my jurisdiction. After that, they started attacking the city's smuggling routes and targeting missionaries, grabbing everything they could. To say they're causing pandemonium in the underworld is putting it mildly."

"And the hitmen?"

"Not the first bunch they sent our way. I've seen burdenbeasts concoct better schemes than those trigger-happy brutes. But what really bothers me is how the citizens are caught up in all of this. Disappearances weren't unheard of before they arrived, but they skyrocketed after those thugs reared their ugly heads. Not to mention that they're withholding vital supplies for the Infected and just set up a beachhead near the closest thing to a hospital in these parts."

Six furrowed his brows as he examined the weapon. He had encountered similar craftsmanship from raider gangs in the Mojave. Normally, he would scoff at it, but he found it surprisingly clever given the circumstances. What troubled him was how someone was distributing guides to build these. Crude as they are, they're still modeled after Earth's tech.

"[Guns 40] Is anybody carrying longarms or just these?" he asked. "And what about ammo? Rubber pellets, etched bullets?"

"Some individuals have crafted longarms, yes," Lin confirmed. "Yet none of those hoodlums are Sankta. And up until recently, they only had rubber rounds. Someone is supplying and training this gang. Someone with deep pockets and connections."

"But you've never been able to find out who?"

Lee shook his head. "Neither of us have. No documents, no middleman to interrogate. We've found shipments with the parts for those guns, but not their ammunition. It's almost as if they appeared out of thin air."

"What about infiltration?" Six suggested.

"Mr. Lin tried that," he said. "But the head honcho is very picky about his recruits. From what I've heard he throws people into gladiatorial combat as part of their initiation. Sometimes he also injects the new meat with his crew's drugs. The couple spies that survived those ordeals weren't exactly in the mood for talking afterward. As for interrogation, the grunts we've captured- who weren't stoned out of their gourds- were as clueless as us."

Six's brows furrowed again. "This doesn't sound like some simple gang. Who are they?"

"They call themselves I Lupi D'Acciaio," Mr. Lin revealed. "Or 'Steel Wolves' in Victorian."

Six blinked. The Lupi D'Acciaio? Here? And with Earth's tech?

No, that can't be right. Aelius said that he had been shooting for years before Six butchered him, and he seemed as surprised as the mayor when they examined the weapons they stole. Even if they had the time to figure out and reverse engineer the guns, they'd lack the propellant for the bullets.

You're also assuming that Aelius was ever the Don. His Brain argued. It's possible that he was just the head of a small outfit. One that didn't have the privilege of seeing ongoing developments.

Need-to-know basis. Six mentally concluded. Shit.

Yühsia waved a hand in front of Six's face before snapping her fingers. "Mr. Argonaut, are you still there?" she asked.

Six shook his head rapidly. "Sorry, just caught up in my train of thoughts, I guess," he said.

"I take it you have some history with them?" Mr. Lin surmised.

"You can say that," Six admitted. "Bumped into them a couple of weeks ago. Or at least one of their cells. They had nothing like Sankta gear when I last fought them, though."

"That so? Do you have any experience in infiltration?" Mr. Lin asked.

Six nodded. "Though I'm prepared to go loud if the situation calls for it."

Mr. Lin and Lee glanced at each other before turning back to him.

"Alrighty then," Lee said. "We've got a few objectives on our bucket list. One, retake the station. Two, bring down the demon plaguing our friendly neighborhood- preferably alive for interrogation. Three, find out who's supplying said monster and ruin their goods. Fourth, rescue as many civilians as possible along the way. And we must do all of this before those brutes spill out into the main city and draw the LGD's ire."

"They haven't yet?"

Lee shook his head. "The Chief Executive has a long history with Mr. Lin here. He usually lets him delegate matters in the Slums. But even his patience has limits. Trust me when I say that you don't want to see its full extent."

"I'm guessing the front door is out of the question."

"For the foundry? Yes. They've got drones patrolling the skies and snipers all around the foundry. They'll pick you apart before you get anywhere near the doorbell. The station, however, isn't as heavily guarded. They're still consolidating most of their forces at the refinery. The only reason Mr. Lin hasn't launched a counter-attack yet is because we don't know how many civilians they've got with them at either location."

"So we'll sneak in and introduce them to Mr. Sandman before they can raise the alarm?" Six concluded.

Mr. Lin nodded. "And slither through the metro before they are the wiser. If you're as good as our little fowlbeast says, then we can kill these featherbrains with one stone. Are you willing to be that rock?"

Six cracked his neck as he slammed a fist into his palm. "I've killed plenty of raider gangs in the wastes," he boasted. "Street thugs got nothing on me." He then glanced back at Yühsia before continuing. "You gonna give me the grand tour, princess?"

"Not in this outfit," she replied. "And certainly not with my face exposed. I might be able to borrow something from our assailants, however. Give me a minute while our respected elders line up the pieces."

Yühsia's father chuckled as she trotted out of the warehouse. A new IFF marker lit up not long afterward. Six spun his head around before he spied a dark blur bouncing around the top shelves of the warehouse. Six drew out A Light Shining in Darkness as someone landed and rolled along the ground before him. He blinked as they straightened themselves upright.

Standing behind him was an anthropomorphic tiger girl in a leather biker outfit. It consisted of a short coat, leather skirt, goggles, steel-toed boots, and leggings buried beneath armored kneepads. Her trench knives had words molded into handguards: 'Rise' and 'Fall'.

"Easy there, kid," Mr. Lee cautioned, setting a hand on Six's shoulder. "It's just an employee of mine."

Six cocked his head as the scaly one dashed over and motioned his arms toward the chick like a salesman.

"Mr. Argonaut, this is Waai Fu," Lee announced. "Kung Fu adept, junior detective, college student, and vigilante. With a dash of mechanical engineering."

The tiger-girl curtly bowed her head to the Courier. "Pleased to meet you," she said with a slight Chinese accent.

Six blinked before suppressing a snicker and sheathing his gun. "Your name's seriously Waai Fu?"

Lee sighed as Waai Fu furrowed her brows. "Yes, it is," she replied. "In Western conventions, it would be Fu Waai."

"At least this dude didn't ask about wedding rings," snarked a voice.

Everyone turned to see a returning Aak, with Hung and Yühsia following behind. The latter was dressed in a brown jacket and black dress skirt, with scraps of salvage strapped over her. A garter mask, goggles, and a worn fedora concealed her elegant face. In lieu of that sword hilt was a Ripper (though he wouldn't be surprised if she hid it beneath the coat). Six's eyes wandered down her legs before he shook his head.

Aak cast a smirk at Six before clearing his throat. "Lady Yühsia already filled us in on the plan," he reported. "And we've got all enemy survivors in the next warehouse. Some of them were in pretty rough shape. I suggest we let 'em get some rest before we start grilling them. We ready to head out?"

"That depends on if our exterminator has a means of communicating with us," said Lee.

"I have a radio in a helmet," Six replied. "And my Pip-Boy can pick up radio transmissions, but it doesn't come with a microphone."

Lee tossed something small to the Courier. An earpiece from the looks of things. A prompt appeared on the Pip-Boy's screen.

Bluetooth device detected. Connect?

Six selected 'yes'. An app opens itself, displaying numerous settings. Six fiddled with it until a voice chirped through the earpiece.

"Waai Fu to Argonaut, do you read? Over?"

Six turned around to face her. "Yep. What about you? Over."

Waai Fu flashed a thumbs-up at him.

"You may want to get a disguise too," Yühsia suggested.

"What about the rest of our merry band?" Six asked.

"The enemy… only tolerates people with smooth skin. For some reason, they detest anyone with fur over it. So they'll be on standby in case dung hits the fan."

"Ah. Which warehouse did y'all leave the threads at?"

"13."

The Holy Number, huh? Six thought to himself. "Thanks."

Six trotted over to the warehouse in question and slipped inside. All of the surviving grunts were strapped onto stretchers in one corner, their belongings hidden between two shelves. Six walked over to the latter and switched clothes. His next choice in wardrobe was a plaid suit and tie, with some heavy armor on the side. Like Yühsia, he slipped on a garter mask but kept his hat.

His Pip-Boy notified him of his disguise, but he was certain that the Rat King's gang was smart enough to recognize him. They were already waiting outside for him when he exited the building. Aak flashed a thumbs-up at him.

"Well, you certainly have better fashion sense than those guys," he remarked.

"I dress to kill," Six replied. "Ready to rock?"

---

ED-E and the furries hung back in the shadows as the Courier and mafia princess approached the stairway to the metro. A Wastelander with a colorful homemade rifle and equally garish attire stood guard, bearing a signal vaguely resembling a canine creature. Six couldn't help but notice the bones and teddy bear strapped onto him.

"Hold it," said the guard said. "What's the word of the day?"

Six mentally cursed at himself. He was about to reach for Blood-Nap when Yühsia came to the rescue.

"Mags," she replied.

The guard snorted but gave a curt nod. "Yep, that's the one," he confirmed. "Come on in."

Six and Yühsia hurried past the guard and down the stairs. Both of them caught grumbling 'fucking softies' before reaching the bottom. A ravaged concourse awaited them, and it was crawling with gangsters. Thankfully there weren't any guard hounds to sniff 'em out, so they had free reign to explore the place. Six was tempted to split up, but after seeing the looks Yühsia received from some guards, he opted against it.

Some of the old stores were converted into barracks for the grunts, others into armories or drug dens. It didn't take long for the duo to find the concourse's main generator, but they left it be for the time being. The old restaurants and food court still served their original function, housing a few drunkards. They spied some Terran ladies carrying drinks and dishes for them, wearing bulky collars around their necks. Yühsia noticed Six's trigger finger twitching and inquired about his mood. He ignored her.

They later discovered and crept down the escalators into the actual station. The guards below had even more armor than the ones upstairs. Charing in head-on would likely end with Six wasting Stimpaks. They slipped back to the concourse, with Six planting some satchel charges along the way up.

At last, they found a barracoon in an old clothing store. There were a couple dozen souls inside, each one handcuffed and on their knees. Men, women, and children, all of varying ages and races. All with a Slave Collar around their necks. A Lupo in an armored suit and another of those animal-themed wasters were standing guard, wielding more of those handmade rifles.

"Did the boss send ya?" asked the suit.

Six nodded. "[Speech 30] Wanted us to inspect the livestock," he said, motioning toward the hostages.

"An inspection?" asked the other one. "We just made a delivery last week. Are those jackasses in black breathing down his neck again?"

Jackasses in black? Six thought to himself before nodding. The second guard growled.

"Shit, those people have even less patience than Mason. Alright, fine. But make it quick. They don't like us being anywhere near the product."

Six and Yühsia walked inside and inspected each collar. These were all the same models from the Wasteland, alright, but he didn't see any explosives on them. It was probably a shock variant. He could probably cut their wires, but not while these guards were around. Even without their eyes on him, disarming each one would be tedious, not to mention the risks of his cover being blown or the collars malfunctioning.

"Who's carrying the remote for these collars?" Six asked.

"We are," answered the garish guard. "Why? Fancy some alone time with one of them muties?"

Yühsia and the Lupo shot the waster an offended look.

"Present company excluded, of course."

"Just want to make sure no junkie ruins the products," Six replied.

The guards rolled their eyes. "Don't worry," assured the armored suit. "We're levelheaded compared to the rest of the perdenti here. Ain't gonna see me near their stashs. Speaking of heads, when's the next match? I'm itching to see some rollin'."

"Whenever the boss says so," Six replied. "If you excuse us, we have some other errands to run."

"No rest for the wicked, eh?" laughed the guard. "I can relate."

The duo walked off from their post and into one of the armories. "Did that man seriously call me and his partner mutants back there?" Yühsia whispered.

Six nodded.

"But I'm not Infected. What reason would he have to say such a thing?"

"Let's just say that some people have very narrow definitions of the word 'human'."

There were several locked chests surrounding them. He could pick the lock for each of them, but that'd probably be a waste of time. Luckily for them, a nearby stoner happened to have the key to those. A pair of daft hands and quick feet were all that he needed to pry them open. It took a bit of searching, but eventually, they hit the jackpot.

Desert Eagles, Tommy Guns, Winchester City-Killers, Colt Rangemaster, M60s, Milkors. Even a couple of Wattz laser pistols and rifles. And plenty of ammo for all of these.

Yühsia bulked at the arsenal. "我嘅神…" she breathed. "This is Sankta hardware. How did they manage to smuggle these into the city?"

"We'll ask their boss when we find them," Six replied as he helped himself to all the ammunition. "Right now we need to focus on what to do with all this."

Yühsia gave him a grim nod. "Smashing them will set off alarms," she said. "And we don't have the time to dismantle them."

Six returned the nod as he took a few guns for Juryrigging. A memory from Gomorrah replayed itself in his head soon after.

"[Science 80]Thermite," Six suggested. "We can brew thermite at one of their chem stations and dump it on their goods. Then rig the lights to give off a spark and 'boom'! Molten slag."

Six could feel a smile curling behind the garter. "A sound plan," said Yühsia. "What do we need to make the compound?"

"Rust dust and ground-up aluminum. But something tells me that getting the ingredients will raise more eyebrows. We'll need to clean the base out before we set off the fireworks. You any good with a knife?"

Yühsia nodded. Six and she tiptoed to one of the dens and examined their goods. Jet, Turbo, Mentats, Day Tripper, Cateye, Steady, X-Cell. He didn't see any alcohol with them, so they were at least smart enough to avoid mixing the two vices.

[Medicine 60] Six decided to rectify that. He spiked all of their stashes before sneaking into the barracks. Then he and Yühsia introduced the sleepers to Mr. Sandman. Then they ventured back into the food court's kitchen. The cook shouted something at them in Siracusan, but Six didn't heed his words. His fists weren't in the mood for talking.

After donning his garbs, he fixed the goons a batch of Cook-Cook's Fiend stew while Yühsia stood guard. She spied him adding something foul to the mix and covering it with spices before he started distributing it.

"Ugk, that was that?" she asked.

"Needlefly venom," Six replied. "Collected some as part of a side job back in Ursus. The locals let me keep some for coating my weapons."

Yühsia jumped as her rat-ears picked up wet gurgles and coughs. She spun to see the gangsters' jugulars and stomachs melting right before their eyes. Six slipped back into his previous disguise and collected all the aluminum he could while she looked on. Before either one could sneak out, though, two guards arrived at the scene. They froze up as they processed the carnage before them.

"The fuck's going on here!?" asked another Lupo in an armored suit.

"The cook poisoned everyone," Six lied, pointing an accusing finger at the unconscious chef.

"Everyone but you two?" asked the other with an incredulous look.

"[Speech 40] We were running late for lunch. By the time we got here, everyone was dead. All we could do was clock him."

"You could've just shot him."

"[Speech 50] Figured the boss would've wanted a piece of him."

Both guards narrowed their eyes and exchanged glances. Six used the opportunity to perform a Ranger Takedown on them, finishing one off with Sleepytime. The other had his throat punctured by a blade of glass. Six gave Yühsia a nod of approval as he went back to the kitchen and had the cook bound and gagged. He'll let the Rat King decide his fate when the dust settles.

The duo slithered back to the slave pen, stealthfully taking down any guard they came across and dumping their bodies in the nearest hiding spot. Once they reached the last turn, they pepped around the corner.

"Can you fire or fling your Arts around?" Six asked. "Or is it exclusively for close quarters?"

"I can make throwing knives if that's what you're asking," Yühsia replied. "You don't need to worry about my aim either."

"Good. Go for the arms on my mark."

Six held up his hand, counting down with his fingers. Once it curled up into a fist, the two struck. Six toggled VATS and fired a shot from a Desert Eagle he looted. Bullets and glass shards embedded themselves into the guards' arms, Crippling them. A dose of Implant GRX and a couple of headshots silenced them.

Six looted the keys from their bodies and went to work on releasing the store's hostages, handing a couple of them their captor's weapons and some ammo. Once that was done, he tossed Yühsia the remote and headed to the generator. She meanwhile bolted over to the nearest pub before he killed the lights. The mafiosos cursed as they fumbled around for a light. Yühsia introduced them to one at the end of their tunnels, then freed the wenches of their burdens.

"T-thank you," uttered each one. "How can we ever repay you?"

"You can start by collecting all the rust and aluminum you can find," Yühsia replied.

"Rust and aluminum? What in the world would you need those for?"

"Let's just say that a friend of mine is conducting a little science project. Meet us at the drug station once you've gathered every sample you can. But avoid the metro. My partner left a 'gift' for the thugs downstairs."

The civilians exchanged glances with each other before nodding and scattering to the wind. Not long after everyone felt a subtle quake near the station entrance. Mafiosos cried out in agony as several small explosions went off. Yühsia glided over with a blade and shield of glass out, but Six was already firing away with one of their own rifles by the time she got there. She tackled a thug and sent him barreling down into his comrades. Six tossed a grenade at them while they were dazed, ripping their armor to shreds. The Courier then gunned down the grunts who survived.

Six crept back down the defunct escalators and scanned the area. "Clear!" he called out.

Yühsia swiftly joined him, marveling at his handiwork. This display of brutality was more uncouth than she liked, but she let it slide for now.

"How're things upstairs?" Six asked. "Is the upper level clear?"

"More or less," Yühsia replied. "I enlisted some help for your alchemy experiment. They should be waiting for you at the lab."

Six nodded and motioned for Yühsia to follow him. He and the mafia princess called out as soon as he picked up movement on his tracker. Some of the 'waitresses' from earlier shuffled out of the lab, holding everything from swords to frying pans. Six then suggested that everyone wait outside in case there was a volatile reaction.

Step one was grinding the aluminum into a fine powder. Easy. Mixing it with rust, however, worried Six a bit. There were subtle differences between Earth's ingredients and Terra's, but thankfully nothing severe enough for an explosion to occur. Six scooped up the compound into some vials and sprinted back to the armory. He climbed up on top of the crates and nicked some wiring in the ceiling. Then he hopped down and dumped the contents on top. He warned everyone to take shelter at the metro station while he powered the generator back on.

A stray spark was all it took to ignite the powder. There was a roar of thunder as a flash of heat and white light consumed the crates. He could smell the resulting slag a mile away. The natives struggled to decide which set of ears to cover as they were assailed by the chaos echoing above. Six heard boots storming down the stairs and drew out A Light Shining in Darkness. To his relief, it was Lee's crew and some of the Rat King's pack.

"Is everyone alright?" Waai Fu asked. "What in the world was that?"

"Thermite," Six replied. "And everyone's fine. We cleaned out the market and sent the civilians downstairs before I started the chain reaction."

Aak gave Six an approving smile. "Thermite, eh?" he said. "I didn't take you for a chemist."

"My chemistry's a little rusty. I could use a little refresher when this is over," Six then turned to Lee. "So cross two things off of the bucket list. What next?"

"An incursion," Lee replied. "We send a strike team down the tunnel and into the black heart of their lair. The less noise we make, the easier it'll be to get the drop on the psycho in charge."

"What can you tell me about them?" Six asked.

"From what I gathered, their leader's a brute by the alias of Scalper."

"I'm assuming that he collects scalps?"

"When he isn't swindling people. You all ready for phase two?"

Everybody nodded.

"Alright then. The Grey Tails and I need to remain here and secure the perimeter while my employees and Mr. Argonaut infiltrate the refinery. Yühsia will remain here and serve as mission control in my stead. Just be mindful of potential dead zones and pests."

Six gave her a two-fingered salute before he led Lee's adopted children into the abyss. "Wish us luck, princess," he said before entering the darkness.

If Six bothered to look back, he would've heard Lee utter a small prayer to them.

---

The cold air nibbled at the merry band of five trekked through the old tunnel. The lights were barely functional, flickering with each step. Six had to turn on his Pip-Boy's flashlight to illuminate the way for the team.

They ended up shunning it when they came across their first pack from the Lupi D'Acciaio. Most were carrying pneumatic weapons. One was standing atop an old rail car in a makeshift post, shining a spotlight around. The wastelanders and junior detectives crouched behind some crates and turned to each other.

"What's the plan?" Hung asked.

Six peeped over their cover. "Killing that spotlight is a first," he said. "Shooting it is just gonna sound the alarm. How good are y'all with stealth?"

Waai Fu flashed a smile before she vaulted over their cover. She vanished into the darkness and clambered up the lone platform. He caught a glimpse of her pulling him back before the gangster's IFF marker disappeared and the light twinkled away. His buddies were none the wiser… so far.

Six toggled VATS on and off as he weaved through the shadows. Five guards remained, all wearing hard hats with headlamps installed. Six proceeded to topple them down one by one. Chokeholds, neck snaps, haymakers, slit throats, brain stems severed. When the last red dot disappeared Six switched on his flashlight.

Four orange marks closed in toward him. Six almost pulled out his gun as a pair of feline eyes gleamed in the dark. Six swore under his breath as Aak stepped into his light.

"Not bad," he complimented. "Find anything good on your prey?"

"Nothing worth taking," Six replied. "Come on, we've still got a ways to go."

They bumped into more security along the way. Waai Fu got to show her some parkour skills with the second wave, bouncing around the raised bridges and platforms. Hung hunkered down in the shadows and radioed enemy positions whenever he could. And Aak got to demonstrate his concoctions with his mini dart gun. Unfortunately, their effects weren't always subtle, and his targets' reactions often drew their comrades' attention. Six had to fall back on Quincy and Scout's Rifle to clean up his messes.

The next checkpoint was littered with traps. Grenade bouquets, caltrops, tripwires tied to bombs and guns, mines, tin can chimes, swinging logs, and support beams. The locals had a good eye for picking out and disarming them. Of course, Six couldn't resist turning the traps against their makers either.

Things were going smoothly until they reached the tunnel's end. The floor ahead had collapsed into the sewers. Waai Fu scowled and cursed under her breath as she backed away.

"Looks like the filters here broke down," she observed. "Everyone got their gas mask handy?"

Hung and Aak nodded before each furry pulled a respirator out of their bags. Something resembling the 3M 6000-series, if Six's understanding of history was correct. He would just summon and don the Elite Riot Helmet, startling everyone.

"Woah," uttered Hung. "How did you-?"

"Call it a magic trick," Six sarcastically replied. "Anyone see a way across?"

"Only thing I see is the third rail," Aak reported. "But I'm not sure if there's still power running through it or not. And that's assuming it can even hold anybody's weight. Does anybody see a breakbox, or better yet an alternative?"

Six shined his flashlight around until he saw a loose pipe dangling above them. It was long enough to cover the gap and large enough for them to cross over. Aiming with his recharger pistol, he fired away at its supports. It collapsed onto the ground with a loud 'clank!', causing the natives to wince as their ears flattened against their scalps. Once they recovered, Hung and Six secured it with some rubble.

Waai Fu and Aak were the first ones across, the former gracefully striding along the pipe like a ghost. Must be easy, being part cat and all. ED-E was next, gliding across in the blink of an eye. It emitted some excited chirps after it reached the other side. Six carefully hopped up and waded over the pipe, taking his sweet time. To his relief, it held under his weight.

The same could not be said with Hung. His breath vanished when everyone heard a metallic groan beneath him. The pipe snapped in half before he could sprint across, but Six was quick enough to fire his grappling hook at him.

[Strength 8/10] Unfortunately, he wasn't strong enough to pull him up. Waai and Aak rushed to lend their paws, but they were too slow. Six and Hung plummeted into the sewage below, coughing and sputtering as they swam back up. Aak and ED-E laughed their heads off as their companions crawled onto the nearest walkway and wiped the gunk off their lenses.

"Are you two alright?" Waai Fu called out.

"We're fine," Hung called back.

Six tried grappling back up the ledge, but his line was too short. He tried near the wall for a jump, but the hook bounced off it. He scowled.

"Do the sewers and subway intersect at any point?" Six asked.

"Yes," Waai Fu called back. "There should be an intersection up ahead. Just keep moving forward and you'll reach it. We'll be waiting for you there."

She bolted out of sight afterward, while Aak lingered for a bit longer. ED-E emitted some concerned chirps at the Courier before departing as well.

"You too, buddy," Six shouted back.

He switched his light back on and motioned for Hung to follow. His Pip-Boy added a waypoint as it tracked ED-E's signal, giving him a rough sense of direction. At least the sewers here were as spacious as the ones under Vegas. He didn't have to crawl around like some vermin.

And it wasn't long before some genuine articles tried to take a bite outta the duo. Originium slugs, Gnawbeasts, and vesper-wings tried to swarm him, but his MF Hyperbreeder Alpha and Ripper made short work of them all. Gloompincers and Metal Crabs lurked in the muck before springing ambushes. The latter were still a pain in the ass thanks to their armored shells, but at least they weren't heat-resistant. Hung was also strong enough to toss those crusty buggers around.

Then they came across a rather unpleasant sight; bodies. Some of which were fresh, possessing a variety of wounds. Cuts, broken limbs and necks, dismemberment, bullet wounds. They also found claw and bite marks, but those were probably applied postmortem.

Hung grimaced. "Another dumping ground," he sighed.

"I take they're fairly common in these parts," said Six.

"You'd be hard-pressed not to find one. The sewers, the metros, junkyards, back allies. The slums always had some corner or another for these things if you're creative enough."

Six knelt and examined the corpses. Thanks to environmental factors, it took a lot of work to gauge the exact age of each one properly. Some seemed fresh, while others looked a few years old. What struck him as odd was the bits of Originium on the more withered specimens. Aren't Infected bodies supposed to disintegrate after a while?

[Medicine 50] Six leaned in for a closer look. Oripathy was the assimilation of biomass into Originium, right? Skin turning into obsidian surfaces or clusters bursting through the skin were the tell-tale signs of infection. Yet some of the fragments appeared to be stabbed into them. These were external wounds, probably postmortem too. Can corpses contract Oripathy? If so, why haven't they disintegrated?

Six yanked a shard out.

"Woah woah, what're you going?" cautioned Hung.

"Doing some detective work," Six replied.

The object in his hand looked like Originium but didn't carry any of the ethereal aura. Lyudmila said something about Originium becoming active during their stay in Grinkhorn. Maybe this fragment was inert?

Or maybe it's a dud. Suggested a corner of Six's brain.

What purpose would that serve? Retorted another.

Deception, obviously. Replied the first. But who was the easy mark? Who was this supposed to fool?

Once again curiosity got the better of the Courier and he started examining every carcass. Hung called out to him, but the Wastelander ignored him. Not only were many of the 'Infected' cadavers impaled with duds, but some of them were dummies too. Dummies with black glass super glued onto them. The only genuine Infected bodies were the recently deceased. A dozen questions swirled in his mind before he glared at Hung.

"Hung, are decoys common in these parts?" he asked.

The Perro swallowed. "Some people try to cover their tracks by leaving duds. It's not always an effective tactic."

"Yet so many of these are modeled after the Infected," Six retorted. "Was someone covering for a group of Oripaths?"

Hung looked away for a moment before pocketing his earpiece. He motioned for Six to do the same. He opted to disable it through the Pip-Boy.

"Your last partner may think that Ms. Lin betrayed the slums," he finally said. "But it's honestly a lot more complicated than that. What happened in the slums was a complete mess. A lotta people made a lotta mistakes that day and the Rat King had to clean up after them. If you want, I can give you the full scoop when this is over. But right now, we're on a tight schedule and this isn't the safest place for storytime."

Six wanted to argue back, but he bit his tongue. Hung was right. Time was of the essence.

"Fine," Six relented. "But you owe me."

Hung smiled as they both reequiped their earpieces. He led the Courier the rest of the way to the intersection, climbing up a walkway at the end. Their friends were waiting for them at the top.

"Did you two run into any trouble?" asked Waai Fu.

"Just some rodents," Six replied. "And Metal Crabs. Those things are a royal-"

Suddenly a scream echoed across the tunnel. ED-E quaked as it emitted some startled beeps. Six checked his motion tracker for movement. Some fresh markers had just cropped up. He bolted off toward their direction and skidded to a stop.

There, around the corner, were more gangsters and… cat-men. Yep, anthropomorphic house cats. Some of them were strapped to stretchers, others bound and gagged. A goon in salvaged armor beat away at one of the Felines with a nail board while another tinkered with a control panel. At first, Six thought this was a morgue, but all he smelled were smoke and ashes. This was a crematory.

Three Felines were tied together in a corner. A short one with a sky blue hat, a stout one with tomato red, and a needle-like man with royal yellow. All of them were bruised and bloodied, with one of them missing an ear. They looked on in horror as one of their kin was mutilated by a Wastelander in spiked armor.

"Gotta hand it to ya fleabags," laughed the tormentor. "Y'all are made of stern stuff."

Shortly after that remark, the screams from the oven died down. The technician walked over to the oven and opened it, pulling out a freshly charged corpse.

"But they burn out quicker with all that fur," he quipped. "This one only lasted a couple of minutes in there."

"You're honestly keeping track?" asked the torturer.

"Just testing out some theories on pain tolerance," replied the technician. "Nothing fruitful so far."

The first wise guy snorted. "These muties… They can rip a normie apart but can't break through rope or cuffs. Think Old World nerds had a saying for that kinda bullshit."

"'Glass Cannons', ain't it?" replied the second grunt.

"Yeah that's the one," said his buddy.

"Glass cannon?" snarled the stout Feline. "You didn't even give us a chance to prove ourselves."

"'Cus furries aren't allowed, mutie," retorted the first wise guy. "Nobody wants freaks in this outfit, least of all you Cat Mafia losers. Your lot is only good for chattel and target practice."

"Yet you welcome the Infected with open arms."

"They're dying, much easier to control than berserk beasts like you lot. Seriously, when was the last time you used a mirror? You look like something outta a B-rate horror flick."

Someone coughed and spat blood at the wise guys. It was the Feline in the stretcher.

"The only monsters I see are you snakes," he croaked.

The torturer smirked. "Damn right we are," he boasted. "Have to be to survive. We ain't softies like you 'civilized' types."

The bastard spat back at his captive. "Then again, civilization's just a bag of lies under a cracked mask. Spark, pass me Neuter."

The technician gave a curt nod before throwing a Ripper to his friend. A sadistic grin slithered across his face as he revved it up, hovering it just above the victim's waist. Before he could indulge in his 'surgery', a whistle caught his attention. He turned around and got stuffed with .45 auto rounds, one of which splattered his brains.

Spark swore before vaulting over the oven bed and drawing out a cattle prod. He was quickly disarmed by Waai Fu and thrown onto the bed. While he was dazed, Six rolled and shut it back, trapping him inside. With the push of a few buttons, the Courier gave him a taste of his own medicine.

When the screams faded and the oven opened back up, all that was left were ashes and his valuables. Waai Fu released the 'Cat Mafia' from their bonds while the Courier looted the corpse and ash pile. He ran a brief scan with VATS afterward. Aside from a minor case of terror, the trio seemed fine. Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for the rest of them.

Fortunately, Neuter's previous wielder had a Doctor's Bag on him. Six bandaged the latest victim while Lee's gang chatted with the Felines. They were grateful to the locals but rather terrified of Six. He also noticed the exacerbated look on Waai Fu's face whenever the triplets spoke up.

Wait, did they just call her 'Tiger Boss'? He'll ask about that later.

Six wrapped things up with a Med-X and Stimpak. "That should keep your insides inside," he said. "But you'll need proper medical attention. You know any doctors?"

"Ahem," Aak cleared his throat.

"In a safe and sterile environment?" Six added.

"Does it look like he can even walk?" Aak retorted.

"His buddies could carry him out."

"Without getting jumped on by more thugs? And what about the rest of the guys here? Look, why don't you two go on ahead while Waai Fu and I tend to 'em?"

Six and Hung glanced at each other for a moment. "You sure, buddy?" Hung asked.

"We can handle ourselves," Waai Fu assured him. "And something tells me that Mr. Argonaut will need your muscle."

"What about intel?" Six asked. "Have you gotten anything out of them?"

"Nothing we don't already know. They were blindfolded and marched to here."

"Did they happen to see or hear anything unusual before that?"

"Let me ask real quick."

Waai Fu got into a brief banter with them before she turned back to Six. "They were too scared out of their minds to take notes," she replied. "But one claims to have heard motors during the walk."

"Drones?" Hung asked.

"Most likely. Mr. Argonaut and his robot better mind the ceiling."

"Tell them I said thanks for the heads-up," Six quipped before departing.

Hung and ED-E followed suit. Once they were out of earshot, Aak walked over to Waai Fu.

"Speaking of drones," he whispered. "Have you ever seen one like that 'ED-E' thing?"

Waai Fu shook her head. "No, why?" she asked.

"Hung claims to have seen that thing disintegrate a man."

Waai Fu blinked. "Really?"

"Yep. Saw an ash pile with a red glow when I first met our exterminator too. Where the heck did a lone-wolf merc get that kinda firepower?"

"Probably bought it from Victoria. Or Columbia. Those places are always chasing after the latest tech."

"Maybe… but something about that guy unnerves me. He's smart. Too smart to be a regular merc."

"He probably had to be to survive in a cutthroat environment. Like a few certain individuals I know."

"Hmpt."

---

Six and his party crept through the darkness, eyes darting between their surroundings and his motion tracker. So far they hadn't encountered any guards or pests since their departure. Just the occasional traps here and there. Hung was rather relieved, while Six was on edge. ED-E, being a robot, maintained a poker face.

Then Six's ears caught the mechanical whirr of a drone. "Company," he hissed.

His party scattered and hid behind a rusted metro car. A crimson IFF marker appeared on his HUD and flew by their hiding place. Six risked a peek as it zoomed past them.

It was a similar model to the unit that followed him in Da Vinci. This one had blue lights and a cannon mounted underneath it. Probably for channeling Arts. Was a Caster nearby or was it fully automated? Nobody stuck around to find out.

More of them scurried around the tunnel, forcing the pack back into the shadows. Six was tempted to just shoot them, but he shot that idea down. Instead, they expanded upon their hiding spots. Under the metro cars, inside them, on top, even under the tracks themselves.

Eventually, they came across the final station. It was crawling with mafiosos and… machine gun turrets? They didn't look anything like the Terrans built from where he was sitting. Another piece of Earth's hardware, maybe? A quick scan with VATS suggested that they're severely under-armored compared to models from the Mojave.

"Where the heck did they get those from?" Hung whispered.

ED-E chirped in agreement as Six scowled. "ED-E, toss me a few pulse grenades, will ya?"

ED-E beeped in acknowledgment as it dropped a few EMPs at his feet.

"If we're lucky, there might be a terminal we can hack into," Six explained.

"I didn't take you for a gearhead," Hung remarks.

"I have some experience with a particular operating system. Hopefully, they're running on it. You two hunker down for the time being. I don't want y'all caught in the crosshairs of those things."

Six gumshoed along the edges of the station and sunk into the shadows once more. He was awfully tempted to conduct some more stealth kills but that idea went into the furnace. He didn't want a repeat of that mishap in the Siracusan mine.

[Science 50] He finally found a terminal after slithering around security. As luck would have it, it was an RIT-V300, running on UOS. Hacking it was child's play. With the system at his mercy, he was presented with a plethora of options. Including scrambling the guns' targeting parameters.

The security detail dissolved into pure chaos. Mafiaosos screamed and cursed as they were fired upon, flailing about as they sought cover. Some were lucky enough to dodge the initial bulletstorm and returned fire, a few scoring a lucky kill. Six eliminated the survivors and disabled the remaining turrets. He whistled for ED-E and Hung to come out from their hiding spot.

Hung grimaced at the slaughter fest as Six looted the bodies. "Doesn't any of this bother you?" he asked.

Six cocked his head. "What, the killing or death?"

"Killing. You've been going straight for the throat instead of knocking them out."

"It's survival of the fitness outside the cities," Six replied. "And from what Ms. Lin and I saw these guys were dabbling in human trafficking anyway. The only good slaver's a dead one, I say."

Hung gave a somber 'hmm' as Six dragged another body behind an old stall and donned its garbs. With a fresh disguise on hand, the Courier took point and led his companions into the wretched hive.

They expected additional security past the station, but the main lobby was surprisingly sparse. There were no civilians, mafiosos, rodents, hounds, or even turrets. Something stunk.

[Perception 8/10] Nobody saw the security camera tucked away in a dark corner. The next thing everyone a couple of shudders descended upon and boxed them in. Gas was pumped into the makeshift prison, forcing both men to don their masks. When two hostile markers appeared on his compass, Six activated GRX and toggled VATS. He and ED-E locked onto a few turrets unfurling from the ceiling and returned fire. They demolished all the guns, but not before the meat bags took a hit.

It wasn't lasers or bullets that struck them, though. It was syringes. The fleshlings yanked 'em off and examined 'em before casing 'em aside. At first, Six shrugged it off, seeing as his Pip-Boy hadn't detected any poison. But then the world started to blur and swirl around him.

"Shit, not again," Six growled.

Hung seemed to have it even worse. Six managed to catch him before he collapsed, but he was barely awake. Things got worse when the floor beneath them vanished. The trio slid down a rusty slope and onto a concrete floor.

With an unconscious Hung landing on top of him. Six snarled as he shoved the Perro off of him and dusted himself off. He gave the STATs tab on his Pip-Boy a cursory glance.

[Chem Resistance] His Strength, Perception, Intelligence, and Agility got docked by two points, but otherwise, he was fine.

Six positioned Hung upright and snapped his fingers at the local's face. It didn't rouse him from his stupor, so he tried slapping some sense back into him. That didn't work either. He and ED-E then tried blasting music into his ears. His head stirred for a moment before it went limp again. Six cursed as he examined his surroundings.

It was cold, cramped, and reeked of industrial waste. He could taste the rust in the air as he surveyed the worn concrete walls. Streams of mist would slither out of cracks in pipes, with the occasional puddle forming beneath them. His motion tracker picked up movement scurrying around them. A part of him prayed that there wasn't a gas leak or anything just as flammable.

Six sat down beside his unconscious guide and leaned against the wall. Great. Just great. He had no smelling salts on hand to wake him up, and he wasn't certain if he could find a safe substitute down here.

"ED-E, go scout on ahead, will you? I need to make a call."

ED-E emitted an acknowledging chirp before speeding off into the distance. Six reached for the earpiece. "Waai Fu, Aak, this is Six. Do you read me? Over?" he asked.

No response.

"Mr. Lee, Mr. Lin, Yühsia, do any of you read me? Over."

Nothing. He grabs Hung's earpiece and brings both devices to his lips.

"God-fucking-dammit, does ANYBODY read me!? Over!"

…

"...fuck."

Six pocketed his comlink and swapped Hung's for his smartphone. To his dismay, it was locked behind a passcode. Six cursed yet again as he returned it. He started pacing around the room as he waited for ED-E. He'd hear the occasional screech and burst of laser fire, but he hadn't received an alert on the eyebot's condition. Six couldn't help but worry over the little bucket of bolts as time marched on. He had come close to losing him at least thrice thus far. He can't afford-

No. ED-E was a smart bot. If he encountered a problematic opponent, he'd skedaddle.

Like the colossus? A part of Six's brain retorted.

Six would've braced for an internal argument, but then his ears picked up a familiar static. A smile crept up his face as the eyebot returned, chirping its findings to its master.

"A locked gate, huh?" he said. "I can handle that. Stay here with the pelt rug."

ED-E bleeped as the Courier departed. He explored the area some before he found the gateway in question. It appeared to be a blast door, probably raised vertically like those in a Vault's dormitory. Six pressed the button beside it, but nothing happened. He sighed. Looks like the power was out.

A cable was running from the console. Six followed it to a locked doorway. His Pip-Boy warned that it was a Hard-level lock, but he wasn't too worried. It cost him a couple of Bobby pins, but he got it open.

Laying behind it was another hallway. Six scanned for mines with VATS before skulking through it. Some squirrel-like creatures with feathers scurried around him, but none dared to take a bite. Eventually, he found an old breaker box and a generator, the former of which had a blown fuse. Six gave the switches a few flips.

Nothing. He could try jury-rigging one of his cells in lieu of it, but he shot that idea down. This place wasn't abandoned like Chernobog. The risk of a local finding and reverse-engineering a nuclear battery was too great. He meandered around the adjacent halls until he found a supply closet. He raided it for the fuse and materials for repair-kits before bolting back to the box.

Once the fuse was inserted, Six flipped the switches again. The lights almost blinded him as the power came back online. He ran back to the blast door but stopped as sparks flew in the corner of his eye. Something had chewed the cable in half. He had a sneaking suspicion of what sort of creature did this.

[Repair 50] Six deactivated the breaker box and soldered the wire back together, closing the gap with duct tape. He restored power yet again and watched as more lights flickered to life. To his relief, the console for the door came back online. A push of a button was all that was needed to raise the blast door. Before stepping onto the other side, Six conjured up his Elite Riot Gear's helmet and tapped into its radio.

"Hey ED-E," he said. "How's our tour guide?"

Nothing but static. He toggled the radio on his Pip-Boy. Same results. He scowled as he returned the helmet to his inventory. Well, at least it wasn't just the comlinks acting up. He just didn't know if it was the walls or a jammer running interference. He'll find out when they get out of this dump.

The first room he bumped into was a locker room. It had been picked clean, so there wasn't any point in sticking around. The next one he discovered was an infirmary. And there were as many medical supplies as there were dead bodies strapped onto the beds.

Six took a glimpse at each of the departed. Some of them looked blissful in death, others had their agony ever-etched onto their faces. He couldn't help but notice that a single race occupied each side's beds. One had Zalaks, the other had Lungs. Were they conducting experiments here?

It took a fair amount of digging, but eventually, he found some smelling salts and adrenaline shots. He doubted he'd need the latter, but better safe than sorry. He was about to bolt back to the pair when he heard footsteps. He ducked under one of the beds as two goons entered the room. One of them was rolling a cart while the other loaded bodies into it. Both had those patchwork rifles slung onto their backs and strange pistols on their legs. The latter looked like dart guns.

"How many vics came down the shaft this time?" asked one.

"Three, according to the security guy,' replied the other. "They got tagged, but we dunno if the chems knocked 'em out. Keep that syringer close."

Six waited for them to pass by before he crawled out from his cover. He toggled VATS and locked onto their heads with his crossbow. By the time one of them noticed his partner's body hitting the floor, a bolt lodged itself into his skull. Six looted the fresh bodies and ran back to the rest of his party. One whiff of a smelling salt was all it took to jolt Hung awake.

"Augh, my head…" he groaned as he shook it. "How long was I out?"

"Not long," Six assured him. "Can you walk?"

Hung gave a sluggish nod and grunt as he slowly rose back up. He leaned on Six as the trio ventured through the concrete maze. ED-E took up the rear guard while the Courier kept Graham's piece out. Six would spam VATS during the trek, yet the only life forms it registered were his company and the occasional feathered squirrel. Hung called them 'Musbeasts', eliciting a raised brow.

[Science 70] Ain't that the genus for mice? he thought to himself.

It is. His Brain confirmed. But Old World mice and squirrels were part of the Rodentia order. Although I'm not sure if any of this world's fauna would fit neatly into Earth's taxonomy system.

We can cross off the Aves class, seeing as they don't have wings. Six mentally replied.

That we've seen so far. And they do possess feathers. At the very least, they could potentially glide like flying squirrels.

Six growled as he rubbed his forehead.

"You alright?" Hung asked.

"Just overthinking some stuff," Six replied.

Hung was about to make a witty remark when they came across an elevator. Six set him down beside it while he looked around for an alternate path. When he returned with a shrug and shake of his head, Hung mirrored the Courier's frown. The trio crept into it and examined the car operating panel. According to the floor indicator, they were on the fourth level. And the only button lit was the one for the Ground Level. Six couldn't help but notice the trepid look on Hung's face as he swallowed.

"Something wrong?" Six asked.

"Four is bad luck around these parts," Hung explained.

"I didn't take you as the superstitious type."

"I'm at least the cautious type."

"Ditto, but I don't believe in hocus pocus nonsense. You two ready?"

ED-E emitted a positive chirp while Hung grunted. This elevator was much more rickety than the one at Roussel Manor, groaning and squeaking as it closed the door and ascended back to the surface.

Or at least should have. The room they found themselves in was pitch black. Six shined his flashlight around, exposing cargo, rusted forklifts, and several pieces of machinery. Were they in another warehouse, or perhaps the foundry?

Two more markers appeared on Six's compass. Six was about to lock onto the welcoming party when something landed at their feet. Six's instinct was that it was a frag grenade, but he was instantly proven wrong. Instead of being bombarded with shrapnel, a blinding light consumed their vision. He heard a mechanical 'whirr' behind them and his companions struggling as their IFF markers darted by him.

When the world returned to him, Hung and ED-E were being dropped into a windowed crate by mechanical arms dangling from the ceiling. The wastelanders tried blasting away at the glass barrier while Hung punched away, but they couldn't put a dent in it. It was bulletproof. The walls were too tall for anyone to climb out too.

The lights flashed on, revealing that they were indeed in a mill. The railings above were stuffed to the brim with mafiosos and other thugs. But the one that caught his attention was the figure at the center platform ahead.

They were decked in worn, patchwork tactical gear with colorful splotches of paint and armor plating. Six toggled VATS to get a better look at him and noticed two things. One, he had an exoskeleton around the outfit. Was it to enhance his strength, or just to keep the armor from crushing him? The second thing he noticed was the faded dragon-like symbol on the side., along with what he assumed to be the original colorscheme; black and blue.

"Well well well," taunted the brute. "Look what we have here. Another pack of rodents scurrying in my backyard. Let me guess; the Rat King sent you into the maze."

"Maybe," Six shouted back. "And I presume that you're Scalper?"

"The one and only," Scalper shouted back. "I'm the alpha and exterminator in these parts. Normally I'd have our resident mad chemist drag you to her lab, but you seem different from the other pests."

He leaned on the rail guard and narrowed his eyes. "My oh my, is that a Pip-Boy I see? And an eyebot? Huh. You don't strike me as a Vault Dweller."

"Born and raised in the Wasteland," Six called out. "And you?"

"Same. Where did you get toys like those anyway?"

"From a good doctor and my old workplace."

Scalper snorted. "As if a Blue would part ways with one of Vault-Tec's doohickies," he retorted. "However you got that Pip-Boy, one thing's clear; you're a survivor like the rest of us. Since you ain't yellow, I'm willing to offer you a place at the table."

"And if I refuse?"

Scalper smirked as an industrial ladle poured molten metal into a giant mold. Hung and ED-E backed away as far as they could as the heat brushed against their makeshift cage.

"Then we give your buddies a nice, warm bath," Scalper replied. "But we ain't just gonna welcome you with open arms. No, you have to earn your seat. This building is one of several we've repurposed for our rings. Fight your way through enough rounds and waves, and we'll let your little gang into our club. What do you say fresh meat?"

Six narrowed his eyes. He doubted that the offer was genuine, but what choice did he have?

"I say 'Why not come down here and see this slab's cut'?" Six taunted.

The crowd went wild.

"So you've got a sharp wit," announced the voice. "But are your claws just as sharp? Let's start with something easy, like a fellow rodent. Murphy, release the rad-rats."

"Gnawbeasts," corrected the mafioso beside him.

"Whatever."

Murphy sighed as he tapped a button on a remote. Several Rodents of Unusual Size scurried out of some hatches, converging on the Courier. Judging from the bloodshot eyes, they were hooked up on Psycho. Six drew the MF Hyperbreeder Alpha and Blood-Nip then aimed the nearest pack. He fired a laser as the first ROUS lunged at him.

Notes:

And here we go. I must apologize for the wait, but how many times have y'all heard me say it by now? A dozen? Bah. Haven't exactly been feeling energized lately, so I took a break and tried to do some brainstorming on the side. Perfectionism may have also had a hand in it.

So first up, the name change for the mafia gang. I changed it from 'Diavoli Neri' to 'Lupi d'acciaio'. Why? Well, consider it a bit of a placeholder from an uncertain past. Don't worry, I'm not discarding the name itself. They're just an affiliate of the wolves. Y'all will probably hear more about their relationship in the next chapter or two.
The Steel Wolves' base underwent a fair number of revisions. The first version was a stadium, something of a dark mirror to Diamond City from Fallout 4. I ditched that one in the first draft because, as awesome as the idea was, I didn't think it'd fit with the Slums. At least not if it were one of the dome-shaped ones. Ain't part of the reason for its state during the Reunion arc because of Kashchey's 'visit' to Lungmen? I faintly recall something about an attack, but I could be wrong.

The second idea was to use the Our Tampines Hub in Singapore as a template instead. That got axed too for similar reasons (or at least I didn't like the vibe as much. Can't remember). Finally, I settled on using an old Orignium foundry, like the one in the A1 Operations Preparation Detachment manga. Something that'd fit in a civilized place like Lungmen, and maybe as a little callback to 'The Pit' DLC for Fallout 3.

Now before anyone asks, yes, I am aware that Crownslayer was released as an Operator for the next Siracusan event. Will this have any effect on the fanfic and her relationship with Six? Well, I do plan on having Six stick around on Terra for a good while anyway, so we'll see. It depends on what kinda drama follows him around and whatever trouble he stirs up. Either way, I don't feel like making another jump in Terra's timeline again. Besides, there are other possibilities and characters to explore.

Next chapter is either gonna be titled Black Thunder or To The Wolves. Probably the latter, considering one of the opponents I have in mind for him. But that's a story for another day. As always, if you have any questions or see any inconsistencies, lemme know in a review. See ya.

Chapter 18: To The Wolves

How many pests had he cut down by now? Twenty? Forty? All he knew was that he swam through wave after wave of cannon fodder. Metal Crabs, gnawbeasts, pincerbeasts, slugs (and their explosive brethren), hounds, Monsters, Defender-4s, Arts Master A1s, Frosts, Scraps, Anvils, Rioters. It was a menagerie here.

Six delivered a roundhouse kick to an armored hound as it lunged at him, throwing it into some barrels. He then toggled VATS and fired a laser at its underbelly and head. The crowd roared as the laser cooked the hound's insides. He hardly had time to celebrate as an Arts Master opened fire on him. He spun behind some old machinery and fired away with the Desert Eagle, reducing the drone to scrap metal.

And yet another metal crab snuck up behind him and snipped at his ankles. Six snarled, kicked it onto its back, and fired at its underbelly. When his motion tracker came up blank, he took a deep breath.

"Well, I'll be damned," Scalper broadcasted. "This guy just cut through some of our broods' alphas like wheat. Guess they'll have to catch some fresh blood later. Neil, bring the hotshot up to the office for a cold one. He's earned it."

"And what about my cohorts?" Six shouted back.

"Them?" the thug chucked back. "They're getting the best seats in the house. Don't worry, you'll be seeing 'em soon enough."

A truck with a crane on the back strolled into the foundry and grabbed Hung and ED-E's cage. Six would've followed them, but a mafioso in an armored suit shoved him up some stairs and along the walkway instead. He led him out of the mill and into a weathered office building.

It wasn't too different from the Old World's bunch at a glance. Paint peeling and cracking off. Decaying furniture and splintered floor tiles. Rust gathering on whatever metal was around. And the occasional remains of potted plants and faded posters.

Yet despite its sorry state, he saw no dust at all. Now that he thought about it, the ventilation system was blowing fresh air instead of something stale. Looks like the Raiders held an iota of concern for cleanliness after all.

He stopped at a Yanese calendar. The current page for it was October 1077. Must be when the facility closed down. Neil reached into a cooler and tossed a water bottle to Six. A quick scan from his Pip-Boy confirmed it was fresh and free of contaminants. He took a sip.

"So…" Neil began. "What's your name, kid?"

"Don't got one," Six lied.

"Alright. Where are you from?"

"What's it to you?" Six asked back.

"Come on, man. We're both Wastelanders, aren't we? Surely, you didn't come here for greener pastures or this mockery of a zoo."

Six paused. "Nevada," he relented. "How did you get here, anyway?"

"I was gonna ask you the same thing."

"You first."

"Nah, you. You strike me as someone with a more interesting story than little ol' me."

Six scowled. "Can't remember," he lied again. "Was looking for shelter from a rad-storm and fell into some cave. Between the impact and all the rads I soaked up, I lost consciousness. When I came to and crawled back out, I noticed that the landscape and sky had changed."

"And you just wandered around since then?"

Six nodded.

"You'd hardly be the first," Neil claimed. "The bosses found plenty of Earthling bones during my time here. They had eggheads use some fancy techniques to figure out their age. They think 'mishaps' like yours have been happenin' for centuries."

"[Science 70] Carbon daring?"

"Maybe? Dunno what they called it."

Six narrowed his eyes. "You just said 'bosses', right? As in 'plural'. Is Scalper not the only one calling the shots?"

Neil paused. "Y-yeah," he said. "Scalper might be this pack's Alpha, but he still answers to others higher up the food chain. Me? I'm technically on loan from one of the higher-ups to ensure that he stays in line."

"Because they consider him a berserker, or to ensure that he doesn't sell y'all out?"

"Both. His buddies, the Pack, abandoned him after fire burned him to a crisp. My crew- The Operators- rescued his ass while we were escaping Nuka World."

"Nuka World?"

"Our old gig. Major raider hub until all the head honchos got whacked."
"Whacked? By whom?"

Neil opened his mouth, but the only noise Six heard was an alarm buzzing. The raider frowned as he checked a fancy watch. Must be another one of those 'smart' devices. An icon was flashing in the corner of its screen.

"Looks like the arena is ready," he announced as he tapped a button. "But Scalper wants me to check your pockets too. Nothing personal."

A drone flew up behind Six. He scowled before raising his arms with a sigh.

[Sneak 50] Neil stripped him of his longarms, along with the MF Hyperbreeder Alpha and Desert Eagle. He missed Sleepytime, A Light Shining in Darkness, Sonic Emitter, a Silenced .22 pistol, and all his explosives. He also didn't bother to take his ammunition or the grappling line either.

"Alright," Neil said, strapping Six's weapons onto himself. "Follow me."

The mafioso led the Courier to the roof. A crude bridge connected it to a series of mill stacks. The center one held a rickety platform above its fiery pits, with bleachers attached to the edges. Six could feel the heat as they climbed up some stairs and took center stage before the crowd. Several drones orbited the first stack, some of which were equipped with cameras.

And dangling above them on a crane were Hung and ED-E. One of the drones darted over to Six and Neil, emitting a holographic bust of Scalper. Several screens dotting the ground level also lit up with his helmeted face plastered onto them.

"Lungmenites! Wastelanders!" bellowed Scalper, echoing across the foundry. "Lowly rodents and big bad wolves alike! Welcome, one and all, to another night at the Ring of Fire!"

Vents opened up around the Courier, spewing out flames.

"We've got ourselves another rat pack scurrying 'round here, but they ain't your common rodents. Nay, they left a bloody trail in their wake. We've found our welcoming committee stuffed full-a lead at the metro station. By our own turrets, if you believe the logs!"

The crowd whispered and mumbled amongst themselves. Those murmurs erupted into a tumult as footage from the station rolled onto screens or from holographic projectors. Six scowled as the cameras showcased him slinking through the shadows and POVs of the turrets as they gunned down their masters.

"And that's only the tip of the iceberg. We've also got confirmed reports of casualties along the old metro. And the ones responsible are a furry-ass brute, an eyebot, and this glorious bastard. The Rat King sent many assassins our way, but I've gotta hand it to him; this is the best brood he's got by far."

The aftermath of Six's handiwork - including the prior arena match- then flickered on the screens, in all its grisly glory.

"He's survived our menagerie, yet he's also drenched in the blood of our comrades. I dunno if I should kiss him, or gut 'im where he stands. What do y'all think? Should we avenge the fallen, or welcome this fuckin' demon with open arms?"

The crowd bumped heads with each other. Some clambered for Six's, others cheered him on.

"Huh, it seems we're a little divided on the issue. How about a compromise? We give the gunslinger here a chance to prove his worth to us. He's proven he can handle beasties and bots, but what about his fellow man? If he gives me ten broken bodies, he'll receive a pardon from yours truly. If he can't pull his weight, then he goes to the wolves. How's that sound?"

The crowd roared.

"Well, alrighty then. Everyone with a bone to pick or a masochistic streak, lay your pistols down and throw down. Bring any melee weapon you can get your grubby claws on. Or go in fists blazing. Y'all's call."

Several thugs stood up and drew out all manner of melee weapons. Blades, bats, pipes, wrenches, axes, hatchets, cleavers, canes, pool cues. Hell, even straight razors. Some of them were modified in some fashion or another. Nails sticking out, buzzsaws strapped on via barbed wires, ends sharpened.

The first three assailants were armed with a pipe, a straight razor, and a pool cue. Seeing as they were fellow Wastelanders, Six didn't feel the need to draw up his Ripper or knives. The first one got their razor shoved into their eye. He weathered the blunt strikes of the pipe-swinger and easily disarmed them. It only took a few punches to clock 'em afterward.

The one with the pole cue leaned more toward a good defense than an offense. Six tried to grapple and disarm the thug, but he was sturdier than his comrades. It took his friend's pipe to splinter his weapon in half, and even then, he just dual-wielded its fragments. Six ultimately resorted to Implant GRX to break his poise and slit his throat with Blood-Nap.

The next asshole to grace the Courier was another Wastelander with a sword and medium armor. Something straight from the Revolutionary War, if his understanding of history was correct. Sparks flickered along its blade as he charged forth. Six blocked his blows with the pipe, but he was rewarded with an electric jolt for every parry. His HUD flickered after each strike, too. Six ended the brawl with a Ranger's Takedown and jammed the sharpened end of the pipe into the Raider's heart.

The fourth one to challenge him was a Lupo Mafioso with knuckle dusters. He was much more spry than his predecessors, relying on hit-and-run tactics. Six initially charged in with the pipe fragments, but this Brawler was made of stern stuff. Not only did he block and parry Six's blows with ease, but his counterattacks were a fucking blur. He lost a good chunk of his HP to the barrage of fisticuffs when he engaged VATS, but it was worth it in his eyes.

Two more Lupo Mafiosos stepped up to challenge him, both wielding batons. They tried ganging on him, but Six wasn't gonna let 'em box him in. He bounced around the makeshift arena and parried their blows, throwing the occasional kick. The first to fall was caught up in a leg sweep and was impaled through his throat. Six slipped behind the second after Crippling his arm and backstabed him.

Then a pair of hoary brutes stomped onto the scene. One of them had shields mounted on their forearms. The other wielded a sledgehammer. The first one bolted toward him like a freight train the instant they made eye contact. Six spent a good chunk of time dodging the Bully's charges while his buddy hung back, throwing a swing whenever he drifted into his orbit. Six found himself backed toward the edge of the ring, hissing as a scalding current brushed against him.

The Bully charged at him again. Six waited before kicking in Implant GRX again, sidestepping at the last second. The mafioso ran over the edge and straight to the fiery pit below. The crowd bellowed before rolling in the aisles as his screams echoed from the mill's belly. Hung winced as his ears flattened.

The Bully's partner didn't take this too well. The Fanatic went berserk and started swinging his hammer around like a whip, forcing Six onto the defense. He ducked, weaved, and rolled around each swing, cutting away at his legs. When he finally Crippled one of them, he lunged at him and jammed both knives into his eyes.

The Fanatic howled in agony as he was blinded, dropping his sledgehammer. He grabbed the Courier by the throat and hoisted him into the air. Six tried to break free from the stranglehold, but this bastard had an iron grip. Strong enough to rival a Night Kin's. He could faintly hear ED-E and Hung call out to him as the world faded…

[Nerd Rage!] …and flooding back with a second wind and a howl. He chomped off the Fanatic's thumb, forcing him to release his prey. He reached out for his sledgehammer, but Six was quicker. He toggled VATS and swung away, Crippling him bit by bit. The Fanatic collapsed onto the ground and stared up at the Courier.

"P-per favore," he sputtered. "Abbiate pietà!"

The only mercy Six had for him was bringing the hammer down. The crowd roared as he spun around and delivered a grand slam to the Fanatic's skull. His head soared over the bleachers and onto the ground below.

"Holy shit," echoed Scalper's voice. "I haven't seen anyone's head flying off since Colter decapitated that one Super Mutant with a karate chop. What was his name again? Bertilak? Yorick?"

Six huffed and puffed as he dropped the hammer. He used the opportunity to inject a Stimpak into his system.

"[Terrifying Presence] And who else wants to lose theirs?" Six boasted, pointing at the bleachers. "You? Or how about you?"

The spectators murmured and exchanged glances, putting their hands up.

"How many notches is that on my blade, now?" the Courier continued. "I wanna say nine at the very least. Maybe thirty if we count all your pests and junk heaps, too. Why not just throw in the towel and let my colleagues go?"

Scalper's projection glared at the Courier's bite. Just as he was about to retort, someone else beat him to the punchline.

"Maybe he's been saving the best for last, hm?" said an Italian voice.

A pale-skinned Lupo in an armored skirt, bearing silver hair and gray eyes, sauntered onto the ring. Sheathed onto her side were two Eastern-style swords, but Six couldn't make out their precise make from a distance. They didn't strike him as Katanas at the very least. He also couldn't help but notice the scar over her left eye and the Originium lesions on her legs. And how everyone's hair seemed to rise as she passed by.

"Oh, ho! And look who's finally decided to join the hunt!" announced Scalper. "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, we've got ourselves a match made in hell. A man with no name and a madwoman with a thousand. The Cackling She-Wolf! The Self-Made Exile! Young Fang! The Specter of the Concrete Jungle! The Platinum Prowler! Lappland Saluzzo!"

The woman bowed and blew kisses at the crowd. Some hollered and whistled, others shivered in disgust. She then turns to Six with an arched brow.

"Is it true?" Lappland asked. "Are you really a nameless man?"

"I've gone by plenty," Six retorted. "But I'm a man of actions, not words. Words mean jack-shit to me."

A coy smile curled across her face. "Then you wouldn't mind if I engrave another on your tombstone, sì?" she asked. "Perhaps something like 'Orsacchiotto'."

She drew out her swords and tossed one to the Courier. He looked back at her with an arched brow of his own.

"What?" she asked. "It's high-quality material. Certainly better than that rubbish everyone else is carrying. Go on, have a feel."

Six narrowed his eyes at her as he knelt and claimed her blade. His gaze bounced between the blade and her, with a mental finger hovering over Implant GRX. Despite the faint fade and weathered texture, it was leagues above most blades he came across in the wasteland. It almost put the Gun Runners' katanas to shame.

But it didn't feel quite right in his hands either. A scintilla of an aura lingered on the blade, leaving an ethereal tingling sensation. It felt like residual Arts in his book, yet he didn't see any Originium. Did she burn out its Arts unit?

Six gave the sword a few swings, alternating between one-handed stances and two. It was certainly heavier than a katana, that much his Pip-Boy confirmed. He found it more comfortable in the latter posture, so he settled on that. Lappland, however, was content with leaving one hand free. She tossed her remaining sword between each one with a bored look.

"Not used to swordplay, eh?" she noted.

Six ignored her question as he took up a stance. "Ladies first," he said.

Lappland shrugged before lunging toward him. Once again, Six was on the defense, parrying and strafing around the mad she-wolf. Her swords had a fairly extensive reach, so he kept as much distance from her as possible. He was tempted to grapple her, but then he realized she'd cut the cable. Or worse yet, use the momentum to impale him.

Six performed a Ranger Takedown on her and tried to drive her blade into her gullet, but she parried that. She kicked him between the legs, but that hardly affected his poise. She rolled to the side to avoid another downward thrust and up onto her feet again.

Now it was her turn to be on the defense. And she honestly did a far better job than Six. She had the audacity to put her hand behind her back as she parried, blocked, and dodged. And she lashed out with plenty of counterattacks.

"Hmm, not bad," she commented as they crossed blades. "But can you do this?"

An amethyst glow slithered from her hand and through her sword. Six cursed and back-stepped as the eldritch power coursed down his blade and into his body. He had been hit by plenty of Arts before, but they were comparable to laser blasts. This felt more like plasma, fucking hellfire even. His HUD flickered as it flashed a message in the corner of his vision.

Warning! Detecting interference with cybernetic implants and Pip-Boy systems! VATS offline!

[Strength 5/6] Six resisted the urge to screech 'Say what!?' before a sudden weight dropped onto his shoulders. Everything started to feel a bit dim or numb. His senses, his vitality, brainpower. He couldn't even maintain a steady grip on the sword.

Lappland cackled as she flung purple flares at the Courier, the Originium tumors on her legs flickering in a similar color. Six had to drop the blade and pull off all sorts of acrobatics to dodge them. He almost broke a sweat from this stunt work.

He popped some Buffout and Med-X before he retrieved the blade and retaliated. Lappland had a mischievous glint in her eyes as their blades clashed. Once more, she channeled her Arts into him, but the Buffout compensated for that. Yet Lappland stood proud in their dance to the death, gracefully gliding across the arena like a ballerina.

"Do you feel that?" Lappland taunted.

"What? The sting of your blade, or the hellfire you're breathing?"

"Well, maybe those, too. But I was referring to something more…"

She shoved her blades against him as she pressed forward, almost leaning against him. She gave him a quick whiff before she flashed an impish grin.

"Mmm, electric. Oh, and that smell. You absolutely reek of iron. It's enough to drive a Lupo girl insane! Just how many blood baths do you take?"

Lappland threw her head back and laughed like a hyena. Six's response was to kick her back and swap out her sword for A Light Shining In Darkness. The interference had worn off, so he was free to use VATS. Unfortunately, he didn't anticipate an intervention. A drone fired a grappling line and yanked the pistol out of Six's hands.

"Hey!" Six shouted, firing his own hook at the drone as it flew off.

Another of the machine's kin dove in and took the bullet. By the time Six spun around and flung the second drone back, the first had already vanished. The holographic projection of Scalper caught the missing pistol in its hands soon afterward.

"Ah ah ah," taunted Scalper as he waved his finger. "We've got rules in this house. No guns allowed at fight club. Shit like this breeds all kinds of weakness."

Six glared back at Lappland, anticipating another swing from her. Instead, she merely pointed her sword at the one he sheathed.

"Well, you heard the man," she quipped. "Are you going to pull another peashooter from your pocket, or will you fight like a man?"

Six sneered. He was tempted to draw another sidearm, but a new wave of hook drones flocking to the arena made him reconsider. He opted to conjure up two power fists from his Pip-Boy's subspace storage: Salt-Upon-Wounds', and Greased Lightning. He let them do the talking from there on out.

Lappland cackled as Six brawled away. Even as the salt brick on the first power first rubbed its contents into open wounds, she still cracked a smile and a giggle. It was as unnerving as it was annoying. She didn't bother to retrieve her other sword either. What the fuck was she, a masochist?

She tossed her remaining sword aside and caught both power fists with her bare hands. Six blinked in disbelief as she channeled her power straight into them. Six yelped as the energies shorted out both mechanized gauntlets. He pulled them back into subspace and threw his fists at her.

Though he was much taller and broader, she was the swiftest between 'em. Not as fast as Lyudmila, but enough to keep a considerable distance from him. Her strength certainly surpassed theirs, judging from how she handled her blade. She also took advantage of his size, grappling and throwing him over her shoulder. Any attempts to return the favor ended with her breaking free.

"C'mon! C'eri quasi, tesoro!" Lappland teased after slipping through his fingers yet again.

Six snarled. He drew out Chance's Knife and Blood-Nap and hacked away. She parried nearly all of his strikes and ignored the cuts he did leave. After a minute or two swinging daggers at her, she caught his arm and ripped Chance's knife from his hand. She jammed it into his back and flipped over him, reclaiming her sword from him and bolting off to retrieve the other. He growled as he injected a stimpak into his body and yanked the knife off. He swapped out both blades for his Ripper, just in time to catch Lappland's in its teeth.

"My, oh my, what big teeth you have," Lappland taunted. "It would be a shame if someone were to chip them."

And yet again, Lappland poured her power onto him. The Ripper shorted out as her incandescence flowed through Six's being. Thankfully, his Pip-Boy hasn't suffered the same fate thus far. And he still had a couple more cards up his sleeve.

And one of those was She's Embrace. As a Yao guai gauntlet, there wasn't any tech for that bitch to short out. It didn't pack as much punch as a power fist, but given the situation, it was the best alternative. Lappland fell back onto the defense again, blocking Six's slashes and kicks. He left more than a few tears on her coat.

Six fired his grapple line and yanked a sword from her hand, tossing it behind him. She lashed out with a charge attack, but he parried her other sword with She's Embrace. It left him open for an Arts-charged palm to his face. Lappland ripped the yao guai gauntlet off him and fired his grapple line toward the sky. Then she sprinted around and tied him up with it. While he struggled to break free, she dragged him as she reclaimed her missing weapon. Once they were back with their rightful owner, she stomped on Six and pointed a blade at his face.

"Mmm, such beautiful eyes," she purred. "They would make fine gems for a necklace. Ahahahah!"

Six's eyes widened as the blade drifted over his pupil, then to his neck.

"But beauty is ever so fleeting. Every dance must come to an end at some point. Tell me, Orsacchiotto, what would you like engraved on your tombstone?"

Six glared at her for a moment before shifting his gaze to ED-E. The eyebot emitted some somber tunes while Hung had a pleading look on his face. Six took a deep breath before locking his eyes with Lappland's.

"My associates," he replied. "Can you guarantee their safety? That they'll walk out of here alive and intact?"

Lappland arched an eyebrow and cocked her head. She glanced up at the cage dangling above them before shrugging. "I… can at least appeal for their case," she finally said.

Six didn't break eye contact as she swung her sword. All he felt was a sting across his cheek. He blinked as she released his grappling hook's cable and stepped off him. It retracted back into its launcher as he untangled himself. He pulled out another stimpak and injected it into his body as he rose back up.

"I concede," Lappland announced.

The crowd gasped.

"The fuck?!" bellowed a mafioso. "That freak skewered my friend!"

"Your friend?" jeered another. "He gunned down my sister. And this bitch wants us to bring this monster into our fold?"

"Why not?" Lappland replied. "I killed plenty of your crew to get here, didn't I? And you all welcomed me with open arms."

"You only culled the weak that day," retorted Scalper's projection. "And paid your blood-debt afterward. He hasn't. He's just one body short of a pardon."

"And what about my colleagues?" Six asked. "Are they part of the package, or must they have their own trails? Hell, are you gonna give them the same chance as her or me?"

There was a brief pause. "You've still got one shot to save yourself, don't you?" Scalper replied. "Why not take it?"

"I would," Six replied. "But I don't see any more volunteers here. Maybe I should start pickin' some out."

"Think you can take on all of us?" boasted a goon.

"I can at least try. I've got plenty of bullets and chems."

"And they've got a good reach," a grunt retorted as he motioned at the drones.

"And even if they didn't, any kills with your sidearms wouldn't count," Scalper added.

"You mean if you plan on keeping your word," Six quipped back.

"You're playing with fire, boyo. I'm only going to say this once; either I see one of you two drop dead, or I'll feed y'all to the pack. Now, which is it?"

Six's gaze glanced between Lappland and the crowd. Everyone was already raising their weapons against them, melee and ranged. The drones hovered above, blasters and grappling hooks primed. Before either of them could make a decision, they heard something groan above them.

Everybody glanced up to see the cage being lowered onto the ring.

"The fuck?" cursed Scalper. "Get that crane's operator on the line!" A second later, the holographic projection caught a smartphone. "Hey, asshole, who told you to drop the bait?"

All he got was static. And standing atop the cell was a certain princess.

"I did," said Yühsia.

"Who the hell is that?" asked a grunt.

"It's the Rat-Bitch!" called out another. "Open fire!"

Sand flew from a canteen and transmuted into a Glass Barrier surrounding her. It deflected the gunfire while she shattered the cage's window with a wave of her wand. After ED-E and Hung bolted out of the cell, the shards flew over to her and started orbiting around her shield.

"撞甲板!" called out Yühsia.

Lappland pulled Six onto the ground as a storm of glass enveloped the Ring of Fire. The goons howled and screeched as the glittering hurricane flayed them alive. Drones chirped warnings as they were sucked into the maelstrom and spat out. ED-E's tractor beam struggled to keep its operator anchored to the Ring. Bullets, arrows, bolts, and other projectiles flew through the whirlwind, but none hit their mark. When the winds finally died, scraps of armor and gore surrounded the heroes.

Hung resisted the urge to vomit while Six whistled. ED-E meanwhile beeped out some irritated chirps at Yühsia, eliciting an arched eyebrow.

"Did your drone just swear at me?" she asked the Courier.

"More or less," Six replied before he strode off to loot the recently departed. ED-E emitted another chirp at Yühsia before joining its master. Both kept their ears to the ground as they scavenged away.

Lappland snickered as the dynamic duo walked by. "Wouldn't be the mechanical swearaholic I've met," she added before turning to Yühsia. "What took you so long, Principessa?"

"I was cleaning up our recent beachhead. And where were you?"

"Oh, you know, keeping my finger on the pulse, passing along whatever breadcrumbs I scrounge up to your father. I guess I got a bit distracted by the recent hubbub, too. I certainly didn't expect Signor Ko here to be among their latest catch of the day."

Hung frowned. "You couldn't have warned us about the trap door?" he asked.

Lappland cocked her head. "Trap door?"

"Yeah. Mr. Argonaut and I walked right on top of one just outside the subway station. Landed on the same floor as the medical bay. You didn't know about that?"

Lappland shrugged. "Sounds like one of the emergency entrances to a Catastrophe bunker," she speculated. "The Famiglie in Siracusa are infamous for retrofitting those systems into booby-traps for their rivals. I'm hardly surprised that this gang's borrowing a page from that devious book."

She then leered at Six. "Speaking of deviants, who's this savage beast?"

"Our newest client," said Yühsia. "Calls himself 'Jason Argonaut'."

Lappland narrowed her eyes before bursting into laughter. "Seriously?" she asked. "That sounds like something you'd name one of those Columbian superheroes. Where did you find him?"

"Wasteland," Hung replied.

"Ah. That certainly explains his bite."

The man of the hour walked back to them with a frown. "Did anyone happen to see where Neil went?" Six asked.

"Neil?" Hung asked back.

"The guy who patted me down. He took a few of my weapons. I'm getting them back."

"What's wrong with the ones these bastardi have?" Lappland asked.

"These have sentimental value to me. I ain't losing 'em again."

"Again?"

Six grumbled under his breath for letting that slip. He was about to give her a brief half-truth before Yühsia spoke up.

"Do you still have those maps?" she asked Lappland.

"SÌ," Lappland replied. "But I don't think the outdoors is the best place to display my collection. Why don't we talk inside?"

Yühsia nodded in agreement, leading the party over the bridge and back into the office. Unsurprisingly, a welcoming committee was waiting for them, but Six and Lappland quickly dispatched them. The latter rolled out a handful of maps onto a desk.

"Alright, we're here," Lappland said, pointing at the office between the foundry and mill stacks. "And the don's office is right over here."

She moved her finger to the center of the platform's schematics. "This was where the brains of the plant were before they pulled the plug on it. I'm willing to bet that our boy's hunkering up top."

"And if he's not?" asked Yühsia.

"Then one of his lieutenants. Maybe that Neil fellow, if Il lupo cattivo is lucky."

Six rolled his eyes at her smirk before walking to the nearest window. He could see dozens of mafioso and their goons taking positions. Glints of sunlight in the windows and on rooftops flickered in the corners of his eyes.

"They've got a sizable army on the ground level," Six observed. "And some lights reflecting above in some old buildings. Could be snipers."

Six scowled. He could mow 'em all down with heavy weapons, but he'd rather not show his trump cards or waste ammo.

"What about under the surface?" Hung suggested. "Could we take a detour through there?"

"Maybe," Lappland replied. "But it can be awfully cramped down in this plate's guts."

"I've managed," Six retorted. "But only because I prefer keeping my distance. Dunno about the rest of y'all. So what's the game plan, princess?"

Yühsia scowled at Six for the nickname before closing her eyes. "We take the low road," she replied. "Mr. Argonaut, if you be so kind as to take point."

Six nodded with a grunt. The group snuck back into the foundry and were greeted by a horde. Maifiosos, drones, and beasts charged forth like a tidal wave. But as luck would have it, there was a busted container filled with sand. Probably for casting. Whatever the case, Yühsia had discovered a force multiplier. And she did not hesitate to wash the enemy away with it.

With a wave of her staff, the sands burst forth and swallowed the enemy whole. Before they had a chance to dig themselves out, the grains transmuted into a wall of glass. The crew ran over to the elevator, but it was unresponsive. Hung tried splicing the panel to force it open, but it had no juice. He had to pry the doors with his bare hands.

Unfortunately, the actual car was nowhere in sight. They had to climb down to the fourth level via ladder. There wasn't enough ledge for Hung to safely pry the next door open, but Six had an idea. And some C4.

Some colorful raiders were waiting around the corner when Six blew the doors off. Hung offered cover for him while he returned fire with a homemade rifle. Lappland skewered any pest that got too close for comfort while Yühsia provided the occasional Glass Barrier.

Once that squad was dealt with, Lappland took the lead. And she was by far the most aggressive woman Six had ever seen. Ladies like Cass and Lyudmila were headstrong, but they at least tried to keep a cool head. This chick, on the other hand, reveled in carnage. Almost as much as Lily during her berserker episodes.

At least she's not a psycho like Violet. Six thought to himself.

So far… added His Brain.

Eventually, they came across another elevator. The car was inoperable, so they had to climb atop it and up another ladder. Once again, Six had to blow the doors open with C4. Some goons were waiting behind 'em when he detonated the charges. They got trapped underneath the steel barriers as the team scrambled inside.

"Scusateci," Lappland said to the goons.

All the grunts could do was gurgle as they were crushed to death by the combined weight. Half a dozen more mooks awaited around the corner. Three Wastelanders with those homemade rifles, a caster, and two armored mafiosos with automatic crossbows. Another six stood further behind, carrying shields and melee weapons. Six threw a grenade at the first crowd, forcing them to scatter before it detonated. He and ED-E fired away while Lappland flung her Arts around.

Once the first wave fell, Lappland pounced on the second one with Hung covering her. One of them tried to tango with Yühsia, but her personal bubble and a glass sword kept 'em at bay. Six and ED-E hung back, not wanting to risk friendly fire. Once the way forward was clear, Six took point with Lappland.

The she-wolf led them to yet another inactive elevator. Unfortunately, the ladder beside it had been torn down long ago. They had to take the stairs. It was crawling with mafiosos and raiders, most of them wielding handmade rifles. And standing at the top was Neils.

"Looking for the boss?" he taunted. "Sorry, but he's not in the mood for visitors."

Six's response was to fire away with the handmade rifle. Neils and his party, in turn, returned fire. Yühsia was the first up the stairs, granting everyone a Glass Barrier as she bolted forward. Plenty of thugs tried to gun her down, but her shield held up. Each one got hacked to pieces by her and Lappland. The offworlders stayed behind with Hung to collect as many weapons as possible.

They heard a distinct beeping sound right as they closed in on the fourth floor. Just as Yühsia spun around to shout a warning, several explosions went off. Portions of the stairway were blown to bits, splitting the team in half.

Six narrowly grappled onto the next floor and caught Lappland mid-fall. Hung and ED-E were not so lucky, finding themselves back at the bottom. Hung groaned as he and the eyebot shook off some debris.

"Everybody alright?" he radioed.

"We're fine," Yühsia radioed back. "Are you?"

"Yeah, not the first time I've tumbled down some stairs. Augh, though it's certainly the most painful thus far. Which floor are you all on?"

"Five," Six radioed. "Is ED-E with you?"

ED-E's beeps assuaged Six's worries. "Oh, thank Newton," Six murmured. "Can either of you jump or float up to us?"

"Negative," Hung radioed. "I don't have any fancy climbing equipment like you. And I don't think your robot can actually fly."

ED-E's somber tunes confirmed the latter issue.

"I suppose it's up to the three of us then," said Yühsia. "Hung, try to regain contact with my father and your agency while the rest of us press on. And while you're down there, try to restore power to the elevator."

ED-E then radioed some inquisitive chirps.

"Watch over Hung until we get back to ground level," Six instructed ED-E.

ED-E emitted some acknowledging beeps before it signed off. Six and the ladies ascended onward, using grappling lines and hyalokinesis to climb up. More raiders waited ahead on the top floor, guarding another makeshift armory. Yet something felt off about this one.

"Anyone else feel a tingling sensation?" Six whispered.

Both women nodded. "I've got a bad feeling about this," Yühsia whispered back.

"Really?" Lappland whispered. "'Cus it's giving me pleasant goosebumps."

Six checked his Pip-Boy's Geiger counter. No radiation as far as it could tell, but his HUD was flickering faintly. Residual electromagnetic waves, perhaps? He could at least still toggle VATS.

What worried him were the weapons in the thugs' hands. They were all some model of laser rifle or pistol, ranging from the Wattz series to the AEP family. Yühsia arched an eyebrow.

"What kind of weapons are those?" she asked.

"Some kind of directed-energy weapons," Lappland observed. "I've seen the don's bodyguards carrying them, but I don't recognize any of those models."

Six's brows furrowed. He spied Neil standing guard before an office door with a card reader. He bet that was where Scalper was hunkering down. But he could've sworn he heard something from the other side of the door. Something muffled.

"This is it, ladies," Neil announced. "We're the last line of defense."

"Have to admit, this ain't my idea of Valhalla," said one grunt. "It's been one hell of a ride, but dying in a rolling city run by mutants wasn't on my bingo card."

"Still, they have some fine babes," chimed another.

"Babes?" snorted yet another. "They're all fucking freaks. You saw what that silver wolf did to our guys when she first joined up?"

"Yeah, that was awesome," said a raider in those colorful garbs. "I dunno whether to be aroused or terrified. What's that phrase the locals use?"

"Scaroused?" suggested the second mook.

"Yeah, that. She'd fit right in with the Pack."

A mook in an armored coat snorted. "Fucking Darwinist," he grumbled under his breath.

Lappland grinned at the compliment. Yühsia, however, scowled when they brought up the word 'mutant'.

"There's that word again," Yühsia grumbled. "Mutant. What is it with these people and mutations?"

"Have to admit, I find that a bit puzzling too," Lappland admitted. "Some of the gangsters here look at the slum-dwellers all bug-eyed. It's adorable."

Six wasn't paying attention to either woman. He was too busy scanning the enemy with VATS. He settled on center of mass with a dash of a headshot before opening fire on Neil. He coughed and gurgled as the bullets pierced his chest and throat, futilely suppressing the crimson geyser erupting from the latter.

One of the raiders swore as they returned fire. Lappland flung her Arts at them while Yühsia provided shielding for everyone. The laser rifle of one grunt shorted out as soon as the purple energies collided with it.

"The fuck?!" shouted the afflicted party.

They gave it several technical taps before it came back online. By then, however, Lappland had already cut down their friends. They joined the rest of their crew shortly afterward. While the mad Lupo admired her handiwork, Six was looting Neil's corpse. To his relief, all of his stolen gear was with him. That only left A Light Shining in Darkness.

Six was about to unlock the door when he heard something. Voices. The glass window was too opaque for him to properly see inside, but his motion tracker did pick up two IFF markers. He pressed his ear against the door.

"And you're certain that they're not the General?" inquired a monotone voice.

"Positive," Said a more familiar voice. "That guy had a different build and accent compared to the fucker."

"Define 'different'."

"I dunno. I've heard traveling traders from out west with similar accents. Maybe he's from the same region as they were? He seemed taller and bulkier compared to him, too. Didn't get a good look at his Pip-Boy, though. Where the hell did the old geezer find that guy?"

"Where indeed…"

"So are you gonna get me outta here or what?"

"No."

"Ex-fucking-cuse me!?"

"Wyath has proven herself a valuable asset, but you continue to disappoint my masters. I cannot fathom what the other parties see in you."

"Hey, I've conquered at least half of the slums and brought plenty of free labor and guinea pigs to y'all. I've got people talking, doubting the old man. I've put the fear of the Wasteland into these muties."

"But you only claimed half thus far, and he still lives. You also haven't reached the main city, even with the arsenal we provided for your gang. I suppose that is to be expected from a surface-dweller."

Surface-dweller? Six thought to himself.

"X6-88, ready for Relay to safehouse," droned the new voice. "You are now free from our debt, Mr. Scalper. Goodbye."

The room quaked as a crackling sound erupted from behind the door. Six spied a flash of white light oozing from beneath the door before everything calmed down. When one of the IFF markers vanished, he assumed someone kicked the bucket. But when he opened the door, he only saw Scalper. And he was fuming at thin air before he finally noticed the trio.

"Oh fuck no!" he snarled, firing away with a laser pistol. "I ain't going down without a fight!"

Lappland had other plans. She sprinted across the room and knocked the pistol out of his hands. She then grabbed his wrists and gave 'em a hard squeeze. Scalper looked in disbelief as the exoskeleton's servos and the bone underneath snapped. Lappland then bashed her skull against his, knocking him out cold. The she-wolf tied him up with some nearby rope and dragged his unconscious body back to her comrades.

"He's all yours," she said as she dropped him.

Six knelt and searched his pockets. He found ammo for the pistol and handmade rifles, keys to the armory's wares, some caps, and LMDs. His lips curled into a smile as he reclaimed A Light Shining In Darkness and sheathed it. He walked into the office and inspected it for additional loot and clues.

He found plenty of papers in the file cabinets and desk, but most of those were in Yanese. Yühsia skimmed through them, but she hardly saw anything worth mentioning. Six eventually discovered a weathered binder in some crumbling bookshelf, its contents written in English. Most of it was just logs for manifests and inventory. There were also details on the people captured and sold to their benefactors. Unfortunately, there weren't any clues to their identities. He decided to check out the armory next.

Whereas their beachhead's caches were stockpiled with traditional firearms, these were loaded with energy weapons. Most of them were of the laser variety: Pistols, rifles, tri-beams, RCW, even a couple of Gatling lasers. They were all of various models; the AER series, Wattz, H . Some designs that stood out to him were a homemade laser rifle with a wooden stock and crank, and various units cast in white plastic.

Several weapons, however, did not fit in that category. Rather, some of them were Gauss weapons. A Rifle, a pistol, a shotgun, and even a mini-gun, to be specific. There was also one of those 'Gamma guns' reportedly carried by cultists. He also spied a pre-war carbine with crude circuitry and a dish attached to it. Six's Gieger counter started clicking when he reached for it, prompting him to close that box swiftly.

One particular weapon caught his eye. He pulled it from the chest's inventory and examined it. It had a similar infrastructure to the Ripper but had two cathodes instead of a miniature chainsaw. A press of a button extended it, while the flip of a switch above the hand guard activated two plasma streams. He had bought one of these from Douglas before- Plasma Cutters.

"Huh," Lappland remarked. "I don't think I've seen that model of beam sword before."

"Beam sword?" Six asked.

"Sì. Channeling Arts as a blade or blunt instrument isn't uncommon in this era. Ms. Lin here is proof of that. That being said, I've never seen an Arts unit as clunky as that before. Is that an industrial tool?"

Six shrugged. Plasma casters were derived from industrial cutters, so it wasn't too far-fetched a theory. He gave the weapon a few swings before bringing it down on one of the fresh corpses. It melted into glowing green goop as soon as the 'blades' made contact. Lappland whistled.

"Perdio," she breathed. "Never seen a sword that could do that."

Yühsia stared at the puddle before shaking her head. "None of this is Sankta hardware," she realized. "Where in blazes did this man get these gadgets?"

"We can ask him that when we get out of here," said Six. "Right now we need to focus on defanging these creeps."

Six helped himself to all the ammunition, then dumped some C4 and the remainder of his thermite into each cache. It was a shame that he had to scuttle these weapons, but he couldn't risk letting them fall into the natives' hands. That being said, he could at least treat himself to some loot. He chose the Plasma cutter as his latest trophy, collapsing and clipping it onto his belt. Something told him it'd be far more practical than a new laser or Gauss weapon.

"Head back to the stairs," Six warned. "This is probably gonna be overkill."

The ladies heeded his advice and followed back to the stairway's remnants. The floor shook as a blinding fireball erupted from the armory with a thunderous roar. Poor Lappland and Yühsia couldn't decide which set of ears to cover as they recoiled from the clangor. Once their ears stopped ringing and the world returned, everyone feasted their eyes on Six's handiwork. The whole room was covered in soot and fresh slag, with hints of ozone in the air.

"Hmm, a shoddy fireworks display, but it gets the job done," Lappland commented.

"I prefer function over form," Six replied. "Still need to deal with the snipers, though. Why don't you two head down with Scalper while I ascend to the heavens?"

Lappland put a finger to her earpiece. "Is the elevator ready, Mr. Ko?" she asked.

"Yeah," Hung radioed. "Power should be back online."

The she-wolf pressed the call button on the destination control panel. The elevator rolled up with a soft 'ding!' soon after. Lappland dragged Scalper inside while Yühsia fiddled with the panel inside. Lappland waved at Six as the doors closed back up.

"Good hunting, Orsacchiotto," she teased.

Six rolled his eyes as he walked out onto the roof and took position, drawing up Scout's Rifle. He surveyed the surroundings as he swapped the pellets for bolts and pumped some air into the rifle. Then he brought a hand to his earpiece.

"Argonaut to Yühsia, I count at least four snipers. Permission to engage?"

"Granted," radioed Yühsia.

Six grinned. He peered through his scope and locked onto his first target. One shot Crippled their arm before they noticed him. He was about to lock onto the second one when Lappland burst out of the office lobby.

"Lappland, what the hell are you doing!?" called out Yühsia.

"What does it look like?" Lappland radioed. "Baiting the prey."

Six scowled as she barreled across the battlefield without any regard for her welfare. The others rushed to the Lupo's side while Six provided covering fire for them. Lappland at least had the brainpower to use meat shields and reflect sunlight off her blades to disorientate the enemy. Unfortunately, those fancy Arts of hers had a short reach before dissipating. And she was too impatient to wait for Yühsia to bless her with another Glass Barrier or first aid from Hung.

Snipers weren't the only things Six had to contend with, though. Drones and grenadiers also cropped up from the ruins, looking for a piece of the action. ED-E handled the former while the Courier eliminated the latter. The charging brutes were a hassle to gun down, even with VATS. Fortunately, Hung would step up to catch and block them long enough for someone to get a clear shot.

The ground below was soon littered with the battered and the dead. When the last IFF marker on his HUD disappeared, he gave the world a minute to throw out another surprise. When none sprang up to greet them, he finally made his way back to the ground level. The grappling hook was a lifesaver, letting him swing onto platforms or lower himself onto the next one.

More bodies awaited him, along with some ash piles. Some thugs were tied up or cuffed in a corner of the lobby, including Scalper. He briskly searched their pockets and dust before grabbing the marauder and marching outside. Hung was busy tending to Lappland's injuries while ED-E had engaged its scavenger protocols. Whatever armor-plating Lappy had on was gone, and her coat lay in tatters on the ground. Judging from her wounds, she also caught a bullet or three. He almost forgot how tough Terrans can be.

"Ms. Saluzzo, please hold still," Hung instructed. "I can't patch you up if you keep squirming."

"Scusa. Just haven't had a good stretch in ages," Lappland replied.

She tried to stretch her arms out, but she flinched in pain. She pouted.

"You really should consider looking before you leap," Hung suggested.

"I did," Lappland replied. "But what use was caution once my cover was blown?"

"You could've at least let Ms. Lin or Mr. Argonaut handle the gunslingers."

"But dancing on the razor's edge is so much fun. It's not every day we get to fight gunslingers. And the few I've seen usually have some halo over their precious faces."

Hung sighed as he bandaged her up. Six furrowed his brows before walking up them.

"Need a hand?" Six asked as he set Scalper down.

"Not unless you have medical experience," Hung replied.

"I might have something better."

Both natives blinked as Six injected a Stimpak into Lappland's arm. Lappland writhed a bit from the sudden boost toward her recuperative functions before straightening herself.

"Woo, that's one hell of a pick-me-up," the Lupo commented.

"I'll say," Hung remarked. "Where the heck did you find something like that?"

"Wasteland," Six claimed. "Handy but rare as fuck in these parts."

Lappland arched an eyebrow. "And by 'wasteland', you mean 'Columbian laboratory'?" she added.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Six lied with a casual shrug. "That stim wasn't exactly designed with Lupos in mind, let alone Infected ones. Monitor her condition a little bit longer before you release her from your care."

Hung gave a curt nod as Six slung Scalper back over his shoulder and walked to Yühsia and ED-E. The former had just gotten off a fancy cell phone.

"So are we walking here or riding out? Six asked her.

"I just called in a couple of rides," she replied. "They should be arriving any… Ah, here they come."

A delivery truck rolled onto the scene of the crime. And stepping out of it was the rest of Hung's crew.

"I hear we got some new test subjects," laughed Aak.

Waai Fu elbowed him.

"What?" Aak grunted back. "It's not violating ethics as long as no one sees it. And some of them probably would classify as war criminals in some countries."

"At least offer them a chance to repent," Waai Fu retorted.

"And an audience with the Rat King," Mr. Lee added. "We need some alive for interrogation, remember?" He then cast an aside glance toward Scalper. "Especially that one."

Six was about to load Scalper into the back of the truck when Mr. Lee stopped him. "Oh no, kiddo," he said. "Mr. Lin arranged a very special ride for him."

A jet-black sedan pulled up beside the truck. And sitting behind the wheel was none other than the Rat King himself.

"Put the garbage in the trunk," he instructed. "And hop in."

Six dumped Scalper into the trunk and opened the door for Yühsia, offering a teasing bow. "Royalty first," he said.

Yühsia rolled her eyes as she took her seat. Six would've sat beside her, but then a wall of sand blocked him out.

"Not so fast, young man," the Rat King called out. "You're taking the passenger seat."

Six glanced at Yühsia through the grainy screen. She just sighed before leaning into her seat while Aak snickered in the background. The Courier slipped into his and reclined in it. The Rat King revved up the engine as Six planted his feet onto the dashboard-

Only for something to whip at his legs. Six jolted to see Mr. Lin pointing his cane at him.

"Have you no etiquette?" the Rat King scowled. "You don't put your feet on the dashboard. And put your seatbelt on, for goodness' sake. Nobody wants to watch you fly out of the window."

Six grumbled as he straightened himself up and buckled his seat belt. The Rat King spun the car around and floored it afterward. Six would've nodded off then and there, but he couldn't help but marvel at the car's interior. The Rat King chuckled.

"You don't have beauties like these in your homeland, do you?" asked the Rat King.

Six shook his head. "Every set of wheels back home just collects rust these days."

"So the Wasteland was the only life you knew then?"

"Yeah. I've never been to a Nomadic City before. Or at least one that ain't in ruin."

The Rat King chuckled again. "Believe it or not, I wasn't born in a city either," he said. "Why, I practically predate this one."

"Really?" Six asked skeptically.

"Truly. Lungmen might be a diamond in the rough, but it is still fresh from the forge. I started life as a humble farmer before moving here."

"Do you ever think back on those times?"

"Ever now and then. There are days when I wonder if coming here was the right call."

"And what was your verdict?"

The Rat King cast a glance toward Yushia and smiled. "But I still have to keep the monsters in check," he concluded. "No rest for the wicked, as they say."

Six nodded in agreement. "Amen."

---

Date: October 13th, 1099

Location: Lungmen Slums

Time: Late afternoon

Six and ED-E spent the next several hours at Warehouse 13. Most of which were breaking down weapons and repairing the Courier's gear. The rest were trying to gather information on the Rat King's interrogations. They've seen multiple people walk out of Scalper's makeshift cell, including Mr. Lee and both Lins. The interrogators either returned with incredulous looks or mental exhaustion.

Six perked his head up as he heard the chamber door slam shut. He craned his neck and spied Yühsia stomping out of the room. Her hands curled up into fists while she took in some deep breaths. Six waited for her to calm down before approaching.

"How'd it go?" he asked.

"Not very well," Yühsia growled. "His goons talked, but most of what they said was gibberish. Mutations, weapons of mass destruction, getting the names of countries wrong. It doesn't help that many also sampled their own goods if you believe the drug tests."

"But their leader's the toughest nut to crack so far?"

Yühsia nodded. "Whenever he spoke, it's more or less the same burdenbeast dung as his underlings. We've tried everything on him, but none of our discussions have been fruitful. I'm almost tempted to bring in a friend from the Special Operations Unit, but I don't know if I can trust her to hold her tongue."

I'm not even sure if you can keep your pretty lips sealed. Six mentally retorted. "Why don't I try loosening his lips up?"

Yühsia narrowed her eyes. "And I should trust you with this job because…?"

"[Speech 50] It takes a Wastelander to know one," he replied.

Her eyes relaxed somewhat. "Well, he has been rather curious about you in previous discussions," she relented. "I suppose entertaining him will stir the beans up some. Perhaps you can make him spill them."

She led Six and ED-E to the door, taking out a key. "There is one complication," Yühsia warned. "This man suffers from severe burn damage."

That intrigued Six. "How severe?" he asked.

"Possibly third degree, according to Aak. He has some difficulty moving without that exoskeleton, and he's practically numb because his nerves are fried. We learned this after father introduced him to some… shall we say 'sandpaper'."

Six nodded. Pain was rarely the best motivator for divulging the truth. Torture was more likely to make them sing lies than any real information. His experience with Silus proved that.

Yühsia offered a curt- if mocking- bow as she opened the door for the duo. The Courier tipped an imaginary hat at her as she shut the door. The room was dimly lit, illuminated only by a lone light dangling above Scalper. And he was stripped to his undergarments with a wet bag tied up to his head.

[Medicine 70] Six knelt before the man as he inspected him, while ED-E took position behind him. One of his legs was recently bandaged up, probably from where the Rat King applied some 'advanced techniques'. Judging from how dark the scars were, those burns were indeed third-degree. As for their age, he wagered at least a year. Their distribution struck him as the handiwork of a flamer. He's treated patients with similar wounds at the Old Mormon F-

He could still smell the stench of burnt tissue and hair as he cleaned and treated her burns. Smell the ash upon her husband's charred corpse. The couple's child underneath him coughed and wailed nearby, mourning its father. But the thing that hurt him most was the tears in Joana's eyes.

Six shook his head and moved on to the hands next. He could make out faint scars between each finger. Their flesh must've been melted into a webbed formation after whatever hell he went through. Someone was at least courteous enough to cut the 'webbing' off (and maybe whatever nerves survived in the process. Could explain the servos).

He decided to remove the hood. The first thing he noticed was how little hair remained. The second was that his left eye was a robotic one. It was blood-red in contrast to his organic hazel one. The left side of his face was heavily scarred and missing its ear. In place of that particular organ was what appeared to be cyberware. So much of his nose was also missing.

Scalper glowered at the Courier as he wrapped up his medical examination. "Well, well, well, look who finally decided to show his face," the raider laughed.

"[Speech 30] I could say the same to you," Six retorted. "It's hardly a wonder you cover yours up."

Scalper sneered. "I'll have you know that I had the most handsome face in the Pack," he snarled. "And this face brought in more caps than anyone else in my gang."

"Never heard of 'em," Six quipped.

Scalper scowled. "We were the meanest sons of bitches to ever grace the Wasteland," he said. "We had no equals and knew our place. We were one of the three heads of Cerberus at Nuka World."

"I'm from out west. Wouldn't have heard of anything from the other coast."

Scalper glared at Six. "Well, that certainly explains some shit," he remarked.

"But not everything. For example, your burns. Did you piss off your boss or something?"

"Ha! If there's one thing the Pack understood, it was loyalty. I wasn't the strongest, but I at least contributed to the gang."

"Licking your boss's boot?"

"Nah, we had slaves for that sorta thing. Hell, we had a market for 'em at Nuka World. I've occasionally run the main stall myself."

"Emphasis on 'had', I'm sure. Did one of them break free and give you your scars?"

Scalper bared his teeth. "No, it was a goddamned Blue."

"A Vault Dweller?" Six asked.

"Yeah. Supposedly, he was from the Backwhen Times. His Vault froze their people alive, but only he survived. And he was badass enough to make his way to Nuka World and challenge the Overboss."

Six snorted. "'Overboss'?"

"Yeah, the head honcho of Nuka World. He was supposed to turn the place into a major trading hub, but he was more content with one-sided gladiatorial combat. Had a suit of Power Armor that drew power from a bumper-car attraction. It made him damn invulnerable to everything. But the bosses of the other two gangs- the Disciples and the Operators- had a hunch. When the Blue came along, a guy snuck a water gun into the locker room before the main match…"

"[Repair 40] And used the squirt gun to short out whatever shields the Overboss had?"

Scalper nodded. "It worked like a charm. Too bad the Blue had no interest in taking the Overboss's throne, though. When we sent him out to conquer settlements in the Boston area nearby, he smooth-talked settlers into surrendering. Many of us saw it as the first red flag, but Mason and the Blacks- the Pack's Alpha and the Operator's head honchos- thought otherwise. Eventually, the last gang- the Disciples- launched a coup against him. They failed. And not long afterward, he betrayed us."

"So he's the one that torched you, then."

"In a goddamned suit of X-01 Power Armor! Apparently, he found it somewhere in the park and used us as target practice. Hell, he gloated about goading the Disciples into making the first move. I remember watching him torch my fellow Packmates and gun down Mason with his own rifle. I barely survived and had to crawl out of the slaughter fest."

Scalper's fists balled up behind him. "When the Pack's remnants found me, they just spat at me. Left me for dead. If it wasn't for some ex-Oeprators, I would've been. They pumped me with enough meds to follow the remnants of the old gangs out. But I've never forgiven my old crew. The only reason I didn't get back at 'em was because nobody was in any shape to backstab one another. But then we found some whitecoats and blackcoats. The latter kicked our asses and had us join some science project of the former's."

"Was your friend X6-88 among them?"

Scalper's face turned pale. "How…?"

"I might've eavesdropped a little on you before I busted your door down."

"How much?"

"Enough to hear him mention a 'General' and his name. I'm guessing it's that Blue."

Scalper's scowl confirmed Six's suspicions.

"Did he and his buddies say who they were?"

"The whitecoats claimed to be some bogeymen from the Boston area, and the black-coats were their hellhounds. Supposedly some type of android. Well, we and they had a common enemy. Turns out that the same Blue nuked their old base of operations and killed their Alpha. Some of them surrendered and integrated into the new society he was building. Others, like our mutual friends, retreated into the shadows."

"They did not give out their crew's name?"

Scalper shrugged. "They called themselves 'The Fair Folk', but I doubt it was their real name. They claimed to be part of some alliance and needed extra hands. In exchange, they promised us many things. Tech, treatment, a new playground to call our own… and revenge. None of us expected that it'd involve jumping between literal worlds."

Six's brows furrowed. "Did they say who else was part of this alliance?"

"They introduced us to some muties with funny accents after my first trip here. The whitecoats used this world's tech to treat my burns, replace my eye, and give me an exoskeleton. The muties had me join their fancy gang afterward. Something rhyming with family."

"Famiglie," Six deduced.

"Yeah, one of those. Or at least a network of tribes that answer to them. They've got some fancy name that's hard to pronounce, but I remember the translation: Steel Wolves. They recruited several survivors into their ranks, including me. Hell, their head honcho supposedly came from a mafia gang back on Earth. They wanted me to sell some of their wares for a while, but there's been a change in plans."

"Your war with the Rat King."

"Yep. They wanted us to put the fear of god into those rad-rats. Of course, they neglected to tell us what that fucker was capable of. I had to beg for them to send us better hardware because pipe weapons weren't cutting it against fucking witchcraft."

"Hence all those Old World guns."

Scalper nodded again. "They were rather stingy over their lasers. We only had enough blasters and other weapons for a squad. I saved those for my inner circle 'cus I couldn't trust everyone else to handle 'em. Especially the locals."

I wouldn't trust the natives either. Six privately mused. "Did they say where they got those? Or at least mention their names?"

"Not their clans' names, that's for sure. One of the two other groups might've salvaged the laser guns. The whitecoats refused to answer any questions about those doodads or their partners. They did give me a warning, though; never mention the Van Graffs around the older mafioso."

That piqued Six's interest. "Did they say why not?" he asked.

Scalper shook his head. "Nope," he said. "I'm guessing the older Wastelanders have some personal beef with 'em or something. You seem familiar with that name, though."

"A major gang in New Reno," Six replied. "They used to have a presence in New Vegas, but their representative got whacked on the way back to Reno."

"New Vegas? That's out west, right?"

"Both of them are. You were also selling the locals to your alliance, correct?"

"Among other clients."

"Such as?"

"Anyone willing to pay, duh! We've made a fortune with the talking bears and knight cosplayers. We sold some to some rad-stag freaks with some wacky accents on the sides too."

"Anything different about those compared to the Siracusans?"

"I remember them throwing 'Uber' around a few times. Does that count?"

"Uber- wait, Leithanien?"

"Yeah, that place. The eggheads mentioned having some interest in that country, now that I think about it. Something about 'Homunculi'. Or were they looking at the devil folk? I dunno. I can't make heads or tails outta their shit."

Homunculi? Those were artificial humans if Six's understanding of mythology was correct. It makes sense that someone purporting to build androids would be sniffing around for potential counterparts in this world.

"What about base of operations?" he asked. "Do you have any idea where they'd be hiding out? Or at least some outposts and safehouses?"

Scalper laughed. "Even if they did divulge that information to me, I wouldn't tell you. Besides, most of our travels consisted of Relay jumps."

"Relay jumps?"

"Yeah, teleporters."

Now it was Six's turn to freeze up. A smirk slithered across Scalper's face.

"The other two groups of this unholy trinity specifically recruited the whitecoats for their expertise in that field," Scalper revealed. "They've been studying these weird obelisks for some time now, but it's thanks to the eggheads that the other hotshots made some actual breakthroughs. Of course, they can't teleport us into moving objects, and they keep bitching about atmosphere inference bogging everything down. My gang and I had to make multiple jumps just to get here."

He then narrowed his eyes. "Say, how the hell did a bastard like you get here, anyway? You don't look like any slave I've caught, and nobody from the Big Three. Who are you?"

Six paused. "...lost my real name to some 9mm bullets," he finally confessed, showing the man his scars. "But you can call me Courier Six."

"Courier Six?" Scalper snorted.

"Yeah, the Chief Executive of New Vegas."

"New Vegas? I thought some republic owned that place?"

"The NCR and Vegas have a complicated relationship, but we ain't part of their empire if that's what you're asking. As for how I got here… one of your raider gangs stole something from me and tried to integrate it into one of your obelisks. It blew up in everyone's faces."

Scalper blinked. "They actually destroyed one of those things? Those fucking dumbasses…"

"So unless you happen to know where to find another one, we're stuck here."

Scalper rolled his eyes. "Didn't you hear me say 'obelisks', as in plural? Or did that fly over your thick skull? We've got more of those things under our belt, but I doubt the bosses will let anyone waltz in. At least, not without a representative."

"And what exactly can you offer me?"

"Aside from a ticket back home? Or a treasure trove of goodies, including your own harem?"

"How do I know you won't slap a collar on me when we reach your bosses?"

"You don't. But what choice do you have at this rate?"

Six pondered for a moment before kneeling behind him. For a moment, a part of him was genuinely tempted. At the very least, he could exterminate another gang of slavers. At most, a way back to the Mojave. But he wasn't just worried about whether or not Scalper would keep his end of the deal. It was also the knowledge he carried that concerned Six. He may not be booksmart like Six, but he probably understood the basics of nuclear power and weaponry. If that knowledge and any information surrounding those teleporters made their way into the hands of some despot or corporate executive...

Six pulled out some Pyschobuff from his pocket and injected it into Scalper's wrist. Judging from his lack of reaction, he didn't seem to notice this. That confirmed one theory of his. Time to test out another. He pocketed the injector and circled back around.

"My own harem, huh?" Six asked. "Don't suppose you have one of your own?"

"Of course I do," Scalper boasted. "I've got like half a dozen ladies. Real women, not those muties."

"[Speech 40] Real women or one of your bosses's Protectrons?"

"Excuse me?"

"There are some sexbots out west. I've actually acquired one for the Atomic Wrangler once. They call it FISTO these days. From what I hear, it's one of their most popular prostitutes."

"Sexb- fucking Christ, man. I'm talking about fleshy babes, not some tincan!"

"Didn't you say that one of your clients made androids?"

"They at least looked like real humans, though. Got skin and blood like us. I've seen what they looked like on the inside."

"[Perception 5] But you never felt one before, have you?"

"Now what the fuck are you going on about?"

"How long has it been since you saw your ladies?"

"I dunno. Half a year, I guess."

"And have you ever felt any of them?"

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"[Medicine 70] Third-degree burns wrecked your nerves, right? Well, ruined nerves don't just impede your motor functions. Getting nerve damage means losing some of your senses, too. I bet you can't feel the warmth of a woman or the cool breeze of the wind in your sorry state right now. Hell, you probably can't even taste or smell after getting a face full-a flames. Don't you miss any of that?"

Scalper glared at him. "I can taste and smell just fine," he said. "And I've gotten laid plenty of times by my bitches."

"Really? Then how about a drink?"

Six took out some Sunset Sarsaparilla from his inventory, grabbed a cup from a nearby water dispenser, and poured the drink into it. He brought it to his nose to see if he got a whiff. Hardly any reaction. He then helped Scalper take a sip from the cup before he spat it back into the Courier's face.

"Tastes like copper," he growls. "How the hell can you stomach that shit?"

"[Medicine 70] Cooper, huh? Sounds like someone's got dysgeusia."

"Dis-glue-what?"

"Dysgeusia. Everything tastes like shit or metal to the afflicted. There are a variety of reasons for this to happen, but I can think of one. Tell me, when was the last time you tasted anything sweet or sour? Or caught a whiff of gunpowder? Can you even enjoy the rush of Jet or the touch of a lover?"

Scalper glared daggers at him as Six bent down again. "When was the last time you ever felt joie de vivre?" the Courier asked with a smirk.

Scalper's eyes turned bloodshot. The next thing Six knew, he was on the floor with the raider pummeling away at him. When the Courier blocked a fist, Scalper tried to bite down on him. Six anticipated the boost in strength, but not this level of ferocity. Six growled as he held the rabid marauder at bay.

"Fuck you!" Scalper snarled. "You know what it's like to live without pleasure? To never savor the juiciest Brahmin steak or all of the different flavors of Nuka Cola? To feel nothing as a whore ran her hands all over you? That fucking Blue took all those passions from me!"

Scalper grabbed one of Six's knives and tried to shove it into his mouth. The Courier caught the blade between his jaws.

"And I'll be more than happy to demonstrate my pain to ya," Scalper growled.

ED-E's tesla cannon fired a laser at Scalper's head, reducing it to a fine red mist. Yühsia unlocked the door and ran into the interrogation room alongside Mr. Lee. Both of them stared down at the fresh corpse as Six shoved it off of him and spat out Chance's Knife.

"What in blazes happened here?" Yühsia asked.

"Scalper broke free and pinned me down," Six claimed as he retrieved his knife. "If it wasn't for ED-E, he probably would've cut my tongue out."

ED-E chirped some agitated beeps at the two natives. Both of them had a skeptical look on their faces.

"How did he break free?"

"I uh… may have run my mouth a bit," Six confessed. "Didn't think he'd still have enough steam in his systems. Looks like I was wrong."

Lee circled the chair, inspecting it and the rope that bound him.

"Did you get anything out of him before he died?" Yühsia asked.

"He was working for an alliance of Siracusan Famiglie, among other groups," Six revealed. "They call themselves the Steel Wolves. But he didn't know the families' real names or where they got the guns from."

Yühsia frowned. Lee then moved on to Scalper's headless corpse and began examining it. He gave it a few good looks before finally discovering the insertion point.

"Well, what do we have here?" Lee murmured. "Looks like Mr. Scalper had a shot of bottled courage. But we strip-searched him before we started interrogations. There's no way he couldn't hide something while gagged and bound semi-naked. The only people that had access to this place were I, the Lins, and-"

Yühsia conjured a wall of glass at the exit before he could finish. Lee summoned what Six could best describe as charms and paper talismans, while the mafia princess constructed a glittering blade. ED-E let out some alarmed beeps and charged up its cannon, but Six held a hand up.

"You were looking for an excuse to silence him," Lee deduced. "Why? What's your angle?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Six retorted.

"Try us," Lee dared.

"Before I do, can I guarantee that this room is soundproof?"

"It is," Yühsia confirmed.

"Then you need to lock that door. Properly."

The natives glanced at each other for a moment. The wall of glass exploded into shards and reformed around Six as a makeshift cage. Lee swiftly shut the door afterward.

"It's secure," said Lee. "Now what's so urgent that it has to be kept behind closed doors?"

Six took a deep breath as he leaned against his prison. This was going to be a long story.

---

Two hours later…

Yühsia and Lee were just as nonplussed at his revelations as the Followers and Lyudmila were. A polluted world without Originium or Arts, a species ravaged by global war, and all the monstrosities that roam the wastelands back home. His adventures and predicament certainly left them baffled, too. At first, they didn't want to believe him, but after letting Yühsia hold a couple of his guns, they realized he wasn't kidding.

"Terra's plagued with dick-measuring contests between empires," Six concluded. "I don't think anyone wants an arms race, either. Especially the nuclear-powered kind."

"I'm not so sure about the latter scenario," Lee mused. "You said that Scalper and his crew were ordered to march into the city once they conquered the slums, correct?"

Six nodded.

"As impressive as your realm's armaments sound, I don't think they hold water against someone as armed and trained as the Shadow Guards, let alone the LGD. If you ask me, their whole operation was a suicide mission. Even if they dragged someone down with them, they wouldn't get anywhere near Wei Yenwu."

Six lowered his head. "You mean their supplier wanted them to fail?" he surmised. "For their wares to fall into his hands."

"And that honestly would've been the best-case scenario. Worst case scenario, whatever technology he'd scooped up would be smuggled out to another nation. Places like Ursus, Yan, Columbia, Victoria, Iberia. Things could then escalate into an arms race, especially if Laterano gets involved."

And maybe even Armageddon… Six thought to himself.

His hands balled up into fists. Who in their right mind would want to jumpstart another Great War? What would they have to gain? Or did someone just want to watch the world burn again?

Yühsia and Lee whispered back and forth to each other. They spent the next minute exchanging hisses and furrowed brows before turning back to him.

"Well, seeing as you're the only reliable expert on this foreign hardware, I suppose it's only natural that we extend our contract for the foreseeable future," said Yühsia. "But if you're going to help us deal with further issues, you'll need a base of operations."

"You're offering a roof over my head?"

"Mr. Lee is. Bringing you back to my family estate would raise too many questions. The good detective here already has a reputation for taking in strays anyhow."

"Strays?" Lee laughed. "What do I look like, an orphanage? I take in promising aspirants, not feral hounds."

Six couldn't help but feel a bit offended at the jab. Mr. Lee chuckled.

"Though I'd hardly call you feral," he assured the Courier. "You have a brain under that thick skull of yours. Your stunt with Scalper and your robot is proof of that. You just need time to adjust to modern living. My company and I can help you with that. If you agree to these terms, of course."

Six closed his eyes for a moment. "What about payment?" he asked. "I'm essentially renting from you four, ain't I?"

"Eh, chores are already part of your life skills program," Mr. Lee said with a shrug. "And the kids could use some helping hands with the occasional odd jobs. Just keep 'em to yourself unless instructed, and we should get along just fine."

Six stared down at the yellow-gloved hand before shaking it. "Deal."

Mr. Lee smiled. "Come on, your fellow young'uns are waiting for us back outside."

Mr. Lee led Six and ED-E out the door while Yühsia locked the door back up. As she did so, something flickered in the corner of her eye. She strained her eyes and rat ears as she scanned her surroundings, channeling her Arts into yet another blade. She searched the warehouse up and down but ultimately came up empty-handed. Sighing, she retired to a limousine waiting for her beside the construction site.

Back at the warehouse, an Anaty in black slipped through some pipes in the ceiling. As soon as she approached the cell door, it seemingly opened on its own accord. A Savra in a hoodie appeared right at the entrance, wearing a cocky smile on his face as he shed his camouflage.

"Were you seen?" asked Shirayuki.

"Do you see any laser burns or bullets on me?" teased Ethan. "Thanks for the lockpicks, by the way. I was worried I'd be trapped in there with the ghosts."

"Did you learn anything?"

"Plenty. Half of which I'd rather forget. Some of the Rat King's methods weren't too different from Reunion's."

"You don't think Scalper deserved his fate?"

"He and his gang had it coming, if that's what you're asking me. But 'deserve' it? Depends on whether you think he deserves something worse or not."

"And Six?"

"Got a good look at his face. That poster Franka brought back doesn't really do him justice. He strikes me as a real piece of work, too. Maybe not as rough as the Lins or Reunion, but he certainly ain't a teddy bear."

"Deliver your recordings to Amiya. I'll keep watch over the Courier."

"Try not to squirm too much while you're tailing him. Don't want that clunky wristwatch's motion tracker to sniff you out."

Shitayuki's mask crinkled up slightly. "What use is that thing in a crowd?"

Notes:

Well, our wayward Courier is certainly making a splash downtown. Making new friends and foes left and right, earning some admirers on the side. This chapter has been in the oven for long enough, so let's cut to the chase.

First up, the Steel Wolves and their territory. The Ring of Fire is based on concept art for Fallout 3's DLC, The Pitt. This particular branch is- or at least was- composed of raiders from Fallout 4's Nuka-World DLC. As for why they're here, well… let's just say there's been a staff shortage in the antagonist department. And they're not that high up the food web. Will we see more of them? Well, one certain chemist is still out there.

Next on the list, Lappland's dynamic with Six. Yeah, it's an inverse with his and Crownslayer's. I thought it'd be funny to give him a taste of his own medicine since the inception of this fanfic, but I hadn't decided who'd be on the receiving end of his Perk and who'd be his Black Widow at the time. Lappy was one of the top contenders for the latter spot alongside W (Some honorable mentions could include Hoshiguma and Blaze, and maybe a less-than-genuine Harmonie trying to wrestle some secrets from our hero). Whether she has some genuine interest in him or is just teasing him, though… I suppose we'll have to wait and see. Probably depends on where I Portatori dei Velluti goes with her character on Global servers. I really hope I nailed that down here.

Lappland's Arts was something I mused over for a good while. Ever since I started this fanfic, I just knew that I had to make Arts the bane of Six's adventure. Especially the Silence debuff. I wanted that to be his Kryptonite, but I also wanted to give Six a fair chance with how low his Luck is. Initially, it was just gonna be a blanket effect on all of his perks and his Pip-Boy, including former examples like Nerd Rage. In the end, I limited the debuff to his cybernetic implants, in keeping with the idea that Arts and Fallout tech get along like cats and dogs.

Next chapter's title is a flip of the coin. It's either 'Culture Shock' or 'Civilization'. I'm leaning towards the former given the context of Six's current situation, but the latter's also a fun little Easter egg. I've got some ideas for a bunch of interactions with a bunch of characters on the drawing board, but I'll need some time to iron them out. Which characters would y'all have on a bingo card, if you don't mind me asking?

As always, if you see any errors, feel free to point 'em out. Later gators! No wait, some Archosauria might take offense to that saying. Crap…