I OWN NOTHING

Valve, Hasbro, if you're reading this, HI! Oh, and please don't sue me

Cafeteria food is terrible. The moment I sit down and think about eating ANY of Bunker 1305's food is the moment I die inside. I read once that in a Hellish place, a place that will mentally grind you into dust, you hold on to one facet of your personality- a virtue, of sorts. That sliver of normalcy is what will keep you sane- it's the tiny, tiny piece of yourself that you never let go of- and if you do, you will get shredded into nothingness by the world you live in.

My virtue is the distinct hatred for cafeteria food. As long as I know that I hate it, I can eat it without a problem. Otherwise, I'd lose myself to a sea of blackness, waiting to die. And I'd probably die from Mystery Meat.

So, for sustenance, I try to rely on my time outside 1305, scavenging for anything edible. Mostly, I find fruits and berries. There's a blackberry bush about a quarter-mile from 1305's entrance, which is pilfered monthly. I hunt, as well. If I don't kill it, it's either Human, or it escaped. If I DO kill it, I eat it. Rabbits, the occasional snake, et cetera. If I'm really, REALLY lucky, I score a deer. Then I can eat well for at least a week and a half, if I ration it right.

Bunker 1305 is a fallout shelter, an Army base, and a recruitment center all rolled into one. It's designed to protect its 1,000-some occupants in case of nuclear warfare. 50,000 Shelters were built in America alone, along with 10,000 Bunkers. The Shelters were designed to protect civilians from alien threats, including nuclear bombardment, worldwide invasion, et cetera, et cetera. The Bunkers, however, house soldiers, equipment, vehicles, and weapons- an 'Army in a can', so to speak- ready to defend the Shelters and regain control over the citizens; creating a makeshift government. Other than a few layout changes, their general purpose, their occupants and what they contain, Shelters and Bunkers are identical. Thankfully, they haven't been needed yet. On the event which they are needed, they would be sealed up until the threat passes, and opened once civilization was ready to reassert itself.

However, I'm not like the other residents of 1305- on my first day living in the Bunker my CO says I'm one hell of a kid, 'surviving' and all. I ask him what he means by that, and he reminds me of what happened when I was twelve years old- I was at a junior robotics competition in New York, gunning for first prize. I had to design and build a fighting machine, capable of incapacitating other 'bots until mine was the last one standing. Little did we know, someone- or something- had planted a bomb across the street, aiming to cause mass panic. When it detonated, a large chunk of a car flew through the building, and it landed on me. Between that and other shrapnel, I ended up in the hospital with no left arm below the elbow, two useless stumps for legs, a missing eye, and most of my lower spine was shattered. The moment I woke up, and realized what I had become, I wished that they had just let me die.

With my one good eye and my one functional appendage, I pushed myself as hard as I could to study. Study every day, study every night, skip eating the hospital food (too close to cafeteria food anyway), just learn. Learn, learn, learn. Anatomy. Physics. Engineering. Applied robotics. Advanced electronics and circuitry. Anything that I could use to make me human again. I called in specialists, tutors, hell, the Make-A-Wish foundation thought I'd die and got Neil DeGrasse Tyson to talk with me in person for an hour or so.

Two years later, with my newfound knowledge, I told the doctors my plan- reopen old wounds. Cut away the useless flesh. Make me able to walk again, so I could enjoy myself. And they said no. Too risky, and not enough payoff for the massive effort required. So, with more studying, more learning, more knowledge, I went through college. After that, I got a job at Aperture Laboratories, and helped design the Handheld Portal Device. Not long after, I got a transfer to the Black Mesa Research Facility in New Mexico. I helped test the Zero Point Energy Field Manipulator, and eventually I pitched my plan to the Black Mesa medical team. And they liked it.

Another year goes by, and my new legs are working wonderfully. My left arm is no longer useless, with a hydraulic prosthetic in its place. It works as natural as a prosthetic can- oil in the tubes is moved by my own muscles and tendons- making a near-perfect replacement. My eye socket now houses a bionic eye, and my spine replaced with links of rubber and steel, with copper acting as the spinal cord. And I can walk again. Fantastic.

Now, two years later, and I live in Bunker 1305 with my small collection of various left arm prosthetics. There's the basic one, powered by battery, that's always on the joint. It folds into whatever prosthetic I'm wearing, becoming my go-to backup arm. Then, there's the tool arm. A hammer, a flashlight (Which I don't use often, there's an LED embedded in my bionic eye), an electric screwdriver, and a large collection of bits, blades, and drivers. I even have a washing arm, complete with soap dispenser, comb, hair dryer, razor, and loofa.

But my pride and joy, the one arm I save for just the right occasion, the one I love above all others- is the GAME-class Phys-Arm. The Gravity/Aperture Manipulative Emitter is a prosthetic with both a Handheld Portal Device, a ZPEFM, and several electromagnets housed inside it, along with large heating coils running through my fingers, allowing me to pick up barrels of flammable materials, superheat them, and send them on their merry, flaming way with the ZPEFM. A few simple thoughts control the device, the 'business end' being located on my palm. Instead of calling it the ASHPD-ZPEFM Prosthetic Arm, I just call it 'The GAME'. It was the GAME that got me into the Bunker in the first place- Bunker 1305 needed a science team, and looking at my portfolio, decided I was the one of the best options. So, they asked for me. I needed a job, (and a place to live,) so I didn't decline. They brought me in and gave me the full tour of Bunker 1305. It was love at first sight.

They had the best life anyone surviving the apocalypse could ask for- A huge research center, an entire room for maker machines (3D printers, circuit board printers, and the like), a testing hall for electronics, a shooting range, and even a training room for melee combat hand-to-hand or otherwise. The only thing missing for a teenage physicist such as myself would be a high-energy particle accelerator.

So, after a good six months living here, I can say it's pretty nice. It's essentially a militarized utopia for me- with exception of the food, of course. Now, training with my favorite blade in the Melee Room, is where my adventure really begins.

A/N: What do you think? It's been a long time since any of my ideas were up to scratch, and even longer since I've acted on them. Tell me what you think!

Also, the Ponies will show up soon, I promise.

Toodles,

Sopwith