Amata.

I don't know if you receive this message by broadcast, so if you find this in the hands of messengers, worry not they are friends.

It's been a long time, hasn't it? Since we last spoke. Since you send me back out into the capital wasteland. Lots of missed birthdays. I remember you never much liked the gifts I could get you, but I hope you can cherish this one, like I always cherished yours.

I want to give you and all the people in the vault something that no one's had for a long time. I want to give you a future. A paradise.

When we last spoke, I told you that the world above was closer to hell then any of the stories in the comic books ever came. It was back then, and it still is. The people and the creatures that shamble through the ruins of the old world are monsters, bloodthirsty and rotten beyond reason or salvation.

As many things as I would like to talk about, I dare not burden your heart with the things I've had to witness. And it doesn't matter anymore. None of it.

All their sins, all the malice of the capital wasteland will soon be washed away. There were not many up here, that could still see the darkness surrounding them, but I have found them and they helped me put things in motion. The water of life flows freely and it will cleanse them. The creatures that prowl, and those that hide in the skin of humans.

The price of freedom is eternal vigilance, the price of a future was... steep. But it is done. There's no turning back now.

Worry not, for you are safe my dear Amata.

Keep the doors of the vault sealed for another two, three month. And after that, when you and the others emerge, you will find a new world. A paradise, untainted by all the strife. And even if you have to go sooner, rest assured the poison in the water cannot harm anyone that was born inside the vault.

That's the important part. What I wanted you to know. You're safe. You and the others and... you're all safe now. There is no reason to worry anymore, there is hope.

When you emerge, men and women of the Enclave will wait for you. They and President Eden are all that is left of our country, and they will help you rebuilt.

I... I don't know if I will be there.

I live in a tower now, five times as tall as the atrium in the vault is high, can you believe that? From this far up, even the capital wasteland is beautiful. I'm holed up here with those few I've encountered, that deserve a chance. Most of them children. I don't know if we managed to stock enough food and water to last until it's safe for us to touch the water again. Oh, I don't know if your father ever told you... but I was born on the outside. After all the things I've had to do I wonder if I don't belong here. It doesn't matter now anyway. Time will tell if we've last.

Amata, do you remember that bible-quote my mother liked so much? I ended up living after those words after all. I am the omega, the end of this wretched hellhole. And I hope that what I did will also be the alpha, the beginning of a new, more innocent world.

I still have the gun you know? Your fathers pistol that you gave on the day dad ran off. Since then a lot of weapons have gone through my hands, but I've always kept it. I don't know if it means anything to you, but it's a comfort to me, knowing that if it comes to it, and I'm exposed to the poison, or if we run out of supplies... it will also be the last gun I ever use.

I shouldn't tell you these things, should I? I almost hope it'll be a letter reaching you, not this broadcast. This should be happy news. It is, isn't it?

I'm just rambling at this point. It's late, and most of the drinks we have stockpiled is liqor.

Amata.

I just want you to know... I did it for you. For the children I'm sure you'll have one day.

Just... just do this one thing for me. If you get out of the vault, when you talk to our allies from the Enclave... don't ask them about me. Don't listen to the stories. Even if you never much cared for my advances... remember me as the girl that looked at you with big eyes, from the back of the class.

Don't remember me as the woman that this place forced me to become.

Farewell, and keep the others in line, there's hope now.

No.

I know it's not fair, but I can't end the broadcast like this.

Amata, I know this sort of thing is not supposed to happen between girls, I know you always found my dreams gross but...

I love you.

There, I said it. I didn't want to die without having said that, at least once.

As always, now and until I draw my last breath,

Yours.