The sun stretched its rosy red fingers across the barren wasteland. There was a time where its life-giving warmth would have opened the pedals of flowers and brought the animals of the wild back from the realms of their dreams. This land, this planet was alive once. But from its womb, the planet gave birth to the craftsmen of its own destruction. Betrayed by her uncaring children, the world was bathed in nuclear fire. But that was not the end. Nothing ever ends.

Since humanity was born, men have attempted to control all around them… even other people. What man could not control, they destroyed. Such was their nature. The people they could not turn, they killed. This self-destructive nature reached it's apex in the year 2077, China and America were in a stalemate. Neither able to dominate the other. No one knows who fired first, but by then it didn't matter.

Humanity persevered. People are stubborn like that. They try to make a new world for themselves; others try to rebuild it the way it used to be.

The Lone Wanderer sat besides the dwindling fire as the sun rose over the horizon. He couldn't sleep. For so long he always knew what he was going to do next, what lay in store for him. Now… he was truly lost. He never really liked the name the citizens of the Capitol Wasteland gave him, but it seemed to suit him. Wandering was all he did now. Where was he going? What was he doing? These were questions that were asked again and again over the radio. Even he didn't know.

Peregrine "Perry" Neeson, otherwise known as The Lone Wanderer to the people of the wasteland, sat in silence as he stared into the dying fire. There was a majestic beauty in such a simple thing. The flame was completely unpredictable, turning and twisting in every direction; never resting. It brought light and warmth to those around it. It was soothing.

Perry contemplated the last several months. So much has changed: the escape from the vault, the hunt for his father, the purifier, the Enclave. Things just seemed to happen around him. Or maybe he just had a talent for turning up at the right times. It's been four months since that event at the Adams Air Force Base. Since then the Enclave had all but vanished. Repairs are under way for Liberty Prime, raider activity has dropped dramatically and now word has spread that Elder Lyons is investigating a way to wipe out the Super Mutants since Perry informed him where they were coming from.

Compared to a year ago, the Capitol Wasteland was in better shape than it's ever been. There were still problems of course. Nothing ever ends after all. That was what Perry had convinced himself he was doing. Now that the major issues are no longer a problem he could work to fix the little ones. Well… little in comparison.

Perry wore T-51b Power Armour, his helmet was resting beside him; it was uncomfortable and obscured his vision. Right now, he just wanted a rest. Although sitting in this armour wasn't very comfortable to begin with but it was too much of a pain to take off completely. In front of him lay Ol' Painless, a hunting rifle he received after rigging the election at the Republic of Dave. It wasn't very democratic to rig an election but Dave was not a leader; he was a tyrant and needed to be removed. Since then Perry had made a few personal modifications to the rifle, it was a stunning gun to be sure but it wasn't perfect.

Along with Ol' Painless was the Blackhawk, a scoped .44 magnum he received from Agatha. Again, it had been many years since this beautiful firearm was used so it needed some touching up but besides that there wasn't much he could do. He still tuned in to Agatha's music over the radio and would visit her whenever he was in the area. She never received much company besides the occasional trader. She had asked Perry to keep an eye out for someone who has an ear for music. Agatha was looking for students to train so her art doesn't die. So far, he has been unsuccessful.

Perry picked up the combat shotgun he "acquired" from a raider base. He examined the words "The Terrible Shotgun" etched into the wood, musing at the irony. This was no doubt the most flawless shotgun he had ever laid eyes on. Its previous owner clearly took great care of it. There was literally nothing Perry could do to make this shotgun any more deadly or efficient besides keep it clean. He wondered why the owner still decided to call it "terrible", maybe when he found it the gun was no more deadly than a teddy bear but decided to see how much he could repair it.

Perry smirked.

Even a teddy bear can end up being deadly when used properly. A few raiders who were on the receiving end of my rock-it launcher can confirm that.

Perry chuckled at the memories. Carefully placing the shotgun back beside its companions, he then ran his finger over the largest weapon in his arsenal, the Tesla Cannon. It was enormous and probably the most cumbersome weapon he ever used. But the amount of times it has saved his ass and the personal admiration he had of Nikolai Tesla forced him to keep it with him. People often asked him why he carried it around and why he would want to deal with the inconvenience, replying by simply firing the weapon at a boulder and smirking at the stunned look on the persons face. Besides, its ammo usage was much more conservative than the Gatling Laser; there were only so many charge packs he could carry around.

Finally he picked up the most dangerous and mysterious weapon in his collection; the Alien Blaster. Its appearance was so misleading at first; it looked no more dangerous than a water gun. The moment he tried it on a Yao Guai though he made sure to never use it lightly. He only found a small amount of ammunition at the crash site, and even less on the alien ship itself when it abducted him. He never showed this weapon to anyone, even keeping it a secret from the Brotherhood. It mustn't fall into the wrong hands; even if they had good intentions.

Being extremely careful placing the weapon back on the ground, Perry admired the arsenal he had built over the months. He couldn't help but feel a sense of pride; the weapons were like trophies of his accomplishments. Except these trophies could do more than sit on his shelf. These weren't the only ones though, Perry kept the rest of his weapons and trophies back at his home in Megaton. He actually had a few people in town asking if they could come in and see them.

Perry remembered though what these trophies stood for besides his swelling ego; they were a symbol of change. Proof that in this messed up world of theirs there were people willing to stand up and make a difference. They represented hope.

And yet…

Perry looked up over the Wasteland and in the distance saw a deserted, wrecked home. Hanging from a wall was a man who had been tortured, burned, stabbed and mangled for some sick raider's pleasure before finally being allowed to die. This victim's bloodied corpse brought reality crashing back down.

People will never change.

In this world where refusing to listen, refusing to work together brought the planet to its knees; the descendants of those men still haven't learnt their ancestor's lesson. People still fight for control, for power. They kill for scraps of food and droplets of water.

In a world where what we need more than anything is to work together…

We won't.

In a world where we need to learn to let go of the past and strive for a new future…

We won't.

In a world where the greatest mistake in history has been made and our survival depends on learning from that mistake…

We won't.

Perry's heart turned cold. The optimism he felt mere moments ago vanished. He remembered Paradise Falls, the faces of the slaves as they lay in their cages; treated worse than animals. The sound of a young girl screaming for help behind a wall as some sick fuck raped her. The images of a desperate man fleeing for freedom only to have his head explode, robbing him of that chance… and his life.

At that moment, Perry could not think about how talking and education could make the world a better place. At that moment… all Perry could think about was how much those monsters deserved to die. He had made it quick for them; killed them in their sleep after they allowed him into the compound. They deserved worse, much worse.

Being in the Wasteland for so long, he thought he had grown used to such sights. But you never get used to that. Those moments mark you. Change you. Perry then remembered what he stood for. He was an icon to the people, an image of hope; a sign that things can change… a sign that things will change. He needed to be strong, if not for them, then for himself.

The sun had finally risen high enough over the mountains to shine onto his face. He looked at the star for as long as possible before it began to hurt. Turning away and waiting for the dot in his vision to disappear, he picked up his helmet, attached the tubing and locked the helmet in place. The HUD blinked to life, bringing up details on his surroundings and the state of his armour. He might need to do some tinkering when he returns to Megaton.

Until then he had a job to do, promises to keep, men to kill. He will show kindness when he can, but there are other ways to help people besides just saving them. Remove evil from the world and you have made it a better place.

Perry paused.

He had taken so much evil out of the world. What good has he ever added to it? The purifier was his father's work. Doubt crept into his mind. What could he possibly add to the world to make it a better place? He chuckled at the result.

A child. A strange moment to realise I want to have kids. Maybe some day I'll find someone I'm willing to marry. Until then, duty calls.

He followed his routine of attaching each of his weapons in order, first the Blackhawk on the left side of his waist, followed by the Alien Blaster on the right. He then attached the Terrible Shotgun to the magnet on his back, followed by Ol' Painless and finally the Tesla Cannon arranging them in a way he could reach any weapon easily. It was heavy but he had long gotten used to the weight, the power armour helped immensely in holding the burden.

Perry then set off North towards the Oasis, his first stop to fulfil a promise to an old friend.

A/N: The world of Fallout has always fascinated me. It's the most cynical story you could ever imagine. But despite the horrors I can't help but love the feeling of traveling the wasteland on your own that you could get from the game and wanted to extend that into a story taking place after the main plot. I don't really have any plans for this story, so stay tuned and we'll both find out what I can come up with.

Comments and criticisms appreciated.