Sunlight.

The light was blinding, I naturally looked down and covered my eyes, letting the slowly adjust to the intense light.

I wiped a few tears out of my eyes, and I looked up to take my first glimpse of the wasteland.

I put a hand over my brow to shield my eyes as I slowly walked forward to a small sign that said scenic view.

And a view it was indeed.

Before me was what was left of the District of Columbia. I could see buildings beyond buildings razed and in ruin, twisted metal and concrete lying all across the horizon.

The tallest building I could identify that was still standing was what I guessed was the Washington Monument, standing tall and proud over the ruins.

Perhaps some of the old world survived?

Still, it has been 200 years since fire fell from the sky, bringing hell to earth, and ending life as we knew it.

Still, humanity just destroyed the world, not themselves.

From the files I read on the Overseer's computer, there was a settlement close by, and predicting how much time has passed since those entries, reported by now old lady Palmer, I would expect that most radiation has ceased, and it should be well above safe to look for this settlement of Megaton.

I started my why down the dirt path to the road, passing burnt out cars and other random junk as I approached what was left of a small town.

My Pip-Boy buzzed and I looked at it, informing me it was what remained of a town called Springville.

It was depressing really, looking at the old houses that we're burned to a crisp in a manner of just a flash of light, like the sun itself fell upon D.C. and like that the house collapsed and all that remained was the exterior supports.

Something unfamiliar caught my eye: a blue box. I walked over to it and read the white letters on it: U.S. Postal Mailbox.

I grunted, never heard of a box able to send mail. Does it work like a relay? Inset a holodisk and it sends it to whomever?

I pulled the hand down and peered inside. It was Hallow, not filled with computer technology like I expected. Instead, there was a bunch of paper notes stuffed in here, and something else that made me close the mailbox.

I thought about it for a moment, but in the end, it didn't make sense: who the hell throws 3 fragmentation grenades, a military grade adrenaline shot drug and an inhaler filled with god knows what into a box meant for sending messages.. somehow?

I mean they get high, then inject themselves and throw grenades? Who's idea was this?

I grunted. Probably someone who was high and souped up on adrenaline.

I went back and took the grenades, but left the drugs alone, maybe some junkie would find them and have a ball with them.

My HUD revealed a green tick to my south, and I looked over a burnt out car in hope of seeing someone. I strained my eyes to see who was there, but instead of a person I realized, that it was a sort of pre-war robot: it was shaped like a ball and had several antennas sticking out of it, and a grill like face, and most peculiar thing about it is that it played a patriotic song, bobbing about as if it was bobbing along to the music.

I walked over to it to examine it further, and when I did, I stood in front of it so I could observe its behavior. It's hovered closer, and the patriotic music got louder until it was maybe a foot away from my face.

It stopped. It sat their for a moment, as if it was analyzing me, as I was analyzing it. Then it turned around and bobbed along, as if it was marching to the music.

I sat their for a moment, a little bewildered by is pause in its routine route. Must've been a blip in its programming, being 200 years old and still working is probably a damper on its circuitry; either that or it was one sturdy robot.

I then realized that the songs the robot was playing was in fact from a radio station. I was so caught up with sightseeing old D.C. that I didn't realize my Pip-Boy buzzed when I left the underground tunnel.

I flipped through my Pip-Boy and went under data, and switched over to Radio, which had two stations available, but the Vault P.A. System was out of range, likewise.

The first station was called Enclave Radio, and the other being called Galaxy News Radio. I stared at the green letters of the News station.

It couldn't be a pre-war radio station that managed to survive the war, could it? Could in fact be a station broadcasting that maybe the US survived? And that the wasteland might not be completely devoid of law?

I switched it on, placing a wireless earpiece into one ear and hoping for a newsman or some sort of military broadcast.

It was not what I hoped for. All I heard was a crackling static. All my excitement was drained from me completely, the first thing the Wasteland has killed that belonged to me.

I switched the station off, and left the earbud in my left ear. I looked down for a brief moment then at my Pip-boy to select the other station. Except, the floating robot flew close enough for me to hear it say something about Enclave Raido.

I grunted. I didn't feel like listening to patriotic carp after that crusher.

I checked another ruined house, finding a Pulgism Illustrated in the Mailbox, and a locked cabinet which yielded just liquor and some bobby pins and a few bottle caps, which I left both the liquor and the bottle caps behind.

I noticed a rusted iron sign with "Megaton" in yellow words painted onto it and an arrow pointing to the road to the south that curved around a bend. I proceeded in that direction, only to stop short when I noticed an old Nuka Cola machine, flickering it's lights and its old hardened circuitry chirping every now and then. I didn't realize how thirsty I was, and I walked over to the red and cream colored machine and inspected it.

It still was working, the lights at least, and I looked for an area to insert money. There was a small slot with faded words saying "insert dollar bill".

I took out one of the large wads of pre-war money and drew out a single 100 dollar bill, hoping that it would spit out some change. I inserted the bill and a whirring sound sucked the bill inside the slot, only to spit it back out.

"Please... Make sure that the the the bill is not wrinkled or folded... Fold... Bzzz!"
The pre-recorded voice burnt out into a cycle until it smoked a little.

I grunted. Then checked the lock on the machine to open it up. Matter of fact, it was incredibly easy to pop open, without a lock! I gave the door a little elbow grease and it popped open like a charm.

I smiled, satisfied, and I grabbed a bottle of Nuka Cola. Before I went to twist the cap off, I realized I was about to drink 200 year old lukewarm Nuka Cola.

I shrugged. If these bottles are not glowing a nuclear green, it should be safe to drink right? Considering most chemicals that were put into pre-war food and drink.

I screwed off the bottle cap and took a whiff of the fizzy 200 year old drink. It didn't smell like pneumonia, fungi, mold, or anything that if ingested, could make me vomit in an instant, so I took a sip.

A warm fizzy liquid ran down my throat. It wasn't half bad! Might taste better if it was cold, but it still tasted good either way, like a sort of fizzy nectar.

Except with radiation. After I finished the bottle, I noticed my radiation level increased slightly, not lethal but maybe at 1 or 2 rads, so I wasn't going to lose my hair if I drank another.

-

After I drank another, I grabbed an extra and took it with me, to save for later. I followed the road south until I found another rusted sign with the same yellow letters painted onto it, except with an arrow pointing west, so I went in that direction.

I ended up in front of several people in front of a crudely made gate made of what appeared to be large pieces of metal, with a guard in body armor and a scoped rifle sitting up on the top of the walls.

It was quite an impressive piece of work for a town made completely from scrap metal, and it's natural brown rusted color blended in with the backdrop of scorched earth, making me completely overlook it when I first exited the vault. The walls stretch all the way around, and had multiple guard towers watching over the area, except no one was in any of them.

I shrugged, yet still impressed by a town just raised from the ground and into a massive town.

The group to my right looked like a travelling merchant, with his own guard who wore pre-war USA combat armor, helmet and all, and she held a menacing minigun, and had a large ammunition pack on her back, and had an extra sidearm, similar to mine, and a few grenades clipped to her belt.

Geez, talk about overkill. I bet no one would want to rob this merchant. The merchant himself, who wore a tan baseball hat, and yellow jumpsuit which was armored with metal plates tied around his shins and arms and had knee and elbow guards with lightweight bullet proof vest worn over his jumpsuit. At his side was a large pistol, and swung over his back was a rather small sleek black rifle.

The merchant, who was conversing with some mercenary looking guy, and I saw an exchange of bottle caps for a gun of some sort, probably an assault rifle.

I took note of that, assuming that bottle caps are either extremely valuable or they are the new currency.

Probably both.

I felt a little down that the 1000 dollars of pre-war money probably didn't hold that much value.

I passed a man who was asleep, lying on a cardboard sheet, and looked very uncomfortable under the sun.

Maybe he's dehydrated.

I hope not.

I made mental note, give some water to the poor guy on the way out.

I walked up to the gate, which opened with a blast of fire shooting out of a large engine of some sort, making the rickety metal doors slide up.

The Robot next to the gate greeted me after the engine powered down, "Welcome.. to.. Megaton! Head on in.. partner! Y'all enjoy your stay.. now!"

I smiled, noticing the name inscribed near his head read "Deputy Weld" and wore a sheriff's badge to add to the authenticity.

I continued to another gate and it slowly swung open as I walked on in.