Prologue
The sun was setting just beyond the frozen, poisonous bay, setting afire the murky green water with bright oranges and reds of the dying daylight. It was the last warmth left in the world and it was slowly, yet surely, disappearing. The twilight was finally giving way to the dull, dark night. The fate of the world was heavy, but safely tucked away in a metal briefcase, held in the hand of the most desolate person left to witness the end alone. The wind whipped around, gently tugging her away from the safety of the shore and into the algid bay. Yet she stood, strong against the fast darkening horizon. Her other hand was laden with another instrument of fate, her shoulders burdened with both the option of death or rebirth; a genesis for those other than herself. It meant everything to him. Purity and sanctity was what he had strived for.
His voice, soft and gentle, called to her from the winds of the fading twilight. Perhaps it was reason that spoke to her, that begged her sanity. Her heart became heavy with remorse and purpose; she had failed to spare his only child for preserving the solemnity and righteousness of the Enclave. A fire burned deep in her heart, the flames licking at her face from the inside out. Never before had she let herself enjoy the luxury of emotions, the feeling of actually feeling. She too was human, but it was not often that she was reminded of that. Instead, she remembered being bred as an instrument of destruction, a holy weapon that brought divinity to the impure of the infertile, unclean wasteland. She was the fire; the flame that cleansed. The burning inside of her, she thought, was the feeling of the Enclave's honor and virtue, blinding her from irreverence and impiety brought upon her by the wastrels she had spent so much time around. Or perhaps, James had been correct- she was a zealot to end all other zealots; the epitome of slavery to a cruel and vicious master. His words stung her like acid.
But those finals moments, when he had realised she had only done her job, his face became soft and unchanged by rage. His eyes were hard and cold no longer; but they still were dark and brumal. She was infact the perfect device, so well hidden by shadows that did not seem unnatural to him. Her fire, her compassion, had shined so brightly she illuminated the future; though one could argue it was only a trick of the light. Her touch, soft and gentle, was enticing, and promised greater things. She herself were an idol, a gilded dream, crafted in ambrosial light. However, the young doctor was a manufactured war machine. The blood that ran in her veins was iced over and her mind was as sharp as the knives she hid away.
It was done. She had completed her mission, and the rest mattered not. Through her actions she would achieve transcendence. No longer was she a peasant, as through mettle and courage she had proved herself worthy. Behind the fabricated walls crafted from bitter emotions long frozen over, something pounded hard and slow, reverberating in the cavity of her chest. It was once thought she had no heart, but hers ached and bled. The sickening feeling of regret washed over her. For once, the young doctor and soldier had felt the pangs of humanity.
Chapter One
Raven Rock was a hidden paradise among craggy outcroppings of rock outlying the DC area, nestled in in the mountains at a higher elevation than that of the rest of the surrounding area. The mist around it acted as a veil, which shrouded it in a serene, almost mystical aura. It was eerily quiet. The silence hinted that there was nothing these rocks harbored, but deep inside the mountain complex, the austere and restricted vault was very much alive. The inside was as grey as the outside but the hum of technology left splashes of anodized blue or yellow on the walls. Servers buzzed, their matrices processing requests and queries in the large database sheltered in the numerous terminals. It was all artificial, but there were inklings of life deep within the complex.
Colonel Augustus Autumn sat at his desk, slightly reclining in his chair. His mind was elsewhere- going over mission details, plotting new visions, and recreating the new, beautiful America. His thoughts flowed freely like water, his mind lightly processing what could become reality. As a boy, his father revealed the old riches of America before the war felled the once great country. She was a powerful, proud nation, with affluence in politics and combat prowess. She was not a force to be reckoned with on her own, but when the world became ash in those fateful two hours, America the Beautiful had dug her own grave and collapsed into it without coercion. She too bowed down to the nuclear fire that gave off a brilliant, piercing light that rivaled that of the day, and when the game was over, the king and the pawn were laid to rest in the same box.
It was not long ago that two or three papers had passed his desk that his eyes grazed over gently. It had piqued his interest slightly, but he did not get a good look at them before they were filed away. Pulling out a worn, coffee stained manila folder, Autumn set it upon the dark, rippling wood of his desk. It was obviously twenty years or older, perhaps in excess of 25. While the outside was sullied by time, the papers inside the folder were crisp, save for the slightly yellowed ones or the occasional wrinkle or folded corner here and there. It was all filed under a single label that read "Project: Purity". The first paper was dated 2239.
Ranger group Delta has returned from the Anacostia region with reports of a 'newly-christened community of tight-knit locals'. These locals have taken up shelter within a beached aircraft carrier that was once property of the United States Navy, and are calling this recently-attained haven 'Rivet City'. Details are to follow with updated information.
Autumn wondered to himself silently why Rivet City had anything to do with this. He searched through the papers for the aforementioned updates, but failed to find anything. It seemed as if data had went missing between 2239 and the next most recent paper dated 2243. He continued his reading, his greying brow knitting together in deep concentration. His fingers gingerly flipped through to the next paper, and his eyes set upon the first paragraph.
Rivet City is continuing to thrive with the new addition of a research lab led by a scientist named Horace Pinkerton, a man in his late 60's to early 70's. He is described as being a generally talented electrician and surgeon. Currently, he is setting up a hydroponics experiment to produce fresh food to sustain Rivet City's growing number of already numerous inhabitants. There is also a formation of a new local group from Rivet City to lead research based around purification of the Potomac River; they have dubbed this ongoing effort Project: Purity. Leads of this group include Dr. Madison Li, Dr. James Mac Carthaigh, Dr. Catherine Mac Carthaigh, and other unnamed, unidentified attendants to these figureheads. Mac Carthaigh and Li have recently acquired the Jefferson Memorial for a permanent foundation of this research effort. The water purifier is expected to be constructed late 2258.
This particular entry was labeled with yellow tape. The bright color stuck out in Augustus' mind as he thumbed it, remembering the significance of the color. When yellow tape was used to mark a document, that meant there was an ongoing investigation of the particular object being documented. Obviously, it was of very high importance- and the purifier itself was interesting to Autumn. He conjured thoughts of it's many uses, and the thought of clean running water. It was a very important discovery that needed to be acquired. Yet, it would be costly and time-consuming to recreate such a prototype that for all he knew, was not even finished yet. There was little to no information on the people who ran the project, and there were no design documents, no blueprints..
"Request Dr. Amarantha report to Colonel Autumn's office immediately for reassignment," Autumn murmured into an intercom as he held down a faded red button that had been pushed many times. Numerous orders and requests had been sent through these lines, each one of its own importance. This one may have been the most important one of all.
Augustus Autumn relaxed back in his hair, the manila file still open, revealing the documents inside. "Project: Purity," he whispered to himself, his thin, usually grave lips gently pulling up at the corners into an enticing smirk. It had a beautiful ring to it, and was such a candid, effortless name. Purity was what the Enclave had stood for, among other things.
The world had become so impure these days.