Stone touched only by the radiation, it remained a glorious green – perhaps not the same layer of green that it had been in its heyday hundreds of years ago. There was such a trace amount of radiation here that it might as well have been paltry compared to the levels found in most water sources these days. The taste of pure, clean water was unknown to so many individuals. A lifetime spent drinking irradiated water would strip them of the joy to drink something that was purified.

Keira never forgot the taste of purified water.

Or rather, her taste buds relished the taste of it, having been subjected to radiation-filtered water.

She sat at the base of the Minuteman statue near Sanctuary, not even caring about her freshly pressed uniform that the synths worked hard on. Or did they work hard on it? It was hard to say, given that the ones that made her uniform were Gen-1 models. The uniform was familiar enough – she wore a similar style of a long-sleeved top and skirt back in her lawyer years. But this uniform was a one piece, and it felt unnerving to put it on and take it off. She likened the process to the superheroes in the comics she and her husband used to read – the Unstoppables.

Well, except for Grognak.

She teased Piper once about wearing the costume.

The thought of Piper pained her. She hadn't spoken to the reporter in at least a week. Out here in the Commonwealth, a week felt like eternity, not knowing when a bullet, claw, teeth, or whatever cruel method in the wasteland would finally find its mark and put an end to your existence.

As she gulped down the last of the water bottle, Keira made a note to remind herself that she needed to praise the engineers for it. Ever since becoming the Institute Director, she'd been working on changing some of their priorities – only some, as she realized quickly that changing everything would've created an internal struggle that she could not afford to have. The nostalgia held for Shaun made a lot of folks overlook her sudden ascension to leadership, and she imagined that the changes she did made were because of sympathy for her loss.

She held out her hand and placed it atop the furry head of her canine companion. Dogmeat never complained about a pat on the head, as evidenced by his tongue rolling from his mouth. Her fingers scratched at the area behind one of his ears and he turned his head slightly in response. She could almost swear that her companion was smiling, what with his open mouth and tongue dripping saliva from its tip.

"Somebody seems happy," she said to him.

He barked in response as his ears perked. As if distracted by a rodent, he turned his body in full, nearly knocking over Kiera.

"Hey," she had growled playfully, scratching at the dog's back. "Are we ready?"

There was probably a time when Preston's coat looked better for wear, but there was no denying that he could make the Minutemen coat look authoritative in this wasteland – not that most creatures cared what clothes you wore. He held his usual laser musket in one hand, ready as always for a fight at a moment's notice. Going weaponless was almost suicide. In the other, he grasped the strap of the backpack.

"Are you sure you want to do this, General?"

Keira had insisted on carrying the bag herself, but Preston wasn't allowing it. Shows that you're the one in charge, he told her. She'd never known a man to be so subservient, but that term didn't seem right for Preston. It was almost insulting. Though not nearly as insulting as constantly having to fend off raiders, ghouls, and super mutants from the settlements under Minutemen protection. It came to a point where she grew fed up with it and began sending other Minutemen to take care of it.

"Yes, I do," Keira stated, standing and dusting herself off.

"Aren't you afraid of an assassination attempt or anything?" he asked as they resumed their walk towards Sanctuary. It was difficult enough to teleport nearby without having to worry about the light of the teleportation attracting any unwanted attention – attention such as those who would love to kill the new head of the Institute, especially now that it was well-known.

'Thanks for that, Piper,' Keira thought to herself, with a hint of regret.

She thumbed the pistol at her side, carefully concealed with a pouch. "What isn't trying to kill me in the wasteland? If anything happens, I'm sure we can handle it. Besides, the Silver Shroud can't be killed."

"Oh, no, not this again."

She couldn't help the grin that came across her face. "Oh come on, that was fun. When do we ever get to have fun like that in the wasteland?"

"You scared some of Sinjin's men enough to join the Minutemen. Rapists and murderers, and they joined you because you scared them. That's a scary power to have."

The bridge creaked underneath the stomps of their boots. The river stream sounded serene as it flowed past. It was missing fish, Keira realized, but that was perhaps for the better. She didn't want to think of what irradiated minnows or carp would look like. "I'm not so scary. I'm an absolute doll."

"Yes…of course, General."

She suddenly stopped.

A confused look crossed Preston's face. "What?"

"Preston," she started with a deep breath. And then a smile. "That was sarcasm. I'm so proud of you!"

"Oh, hah hah," Preston chuckled lightly.

She walked in front of him with Dogmeat prancing closely by her heel. The adorable smile he seemed to make when his tongue hung from his mouth was gone, replaced entirely with a laser sharp focus as his head swayed from left to right and back. She knew what it was that awaited them as they approached Sanctuary.

The lightboxes she had erected near the entrance weren't on – she almost began to regret the decision, as Sanctuary no longer felt like the safe place she had worked hard to make it. It was eerily silent as they walked the empty streets. She could see the heads of the many settlers living in town peeking out from various windows. She had warned them to evacuate to the Red Rocket Truck Stop. They did the opposite instead, arming themselves and hiding in their homes in case things went sour.

And the potential of everything going sour was a very real and present threat.

Over a week ago, it took everything Keira had emotionally to prevent a war between three of the biggest powers in the Commonwealth.

Surprisingly, the Institute was easier to get to back down, as she explained that if the Institute were attacked, it would be devastating. She might have passed on a little intel as well about Liberty Prime, the death machine that had yet to be activated. She'd heard enough stories about it from passing travelers in Diamond City, the monstrosity that was unleashed in the Capital Wasteland against something called the Enclave. She'd had too many problems to worry about to pay the stories too much attention, but it was enough to worry her.

The Railroad wasn't quite as difficult, though they nearly almost killed her when they found out whom she was serving.

As she approached the huge house where everything was to take place, she spotted the lone representative sent by the Railroad. Deacon tipped his hat to her, having donned the attire of a farmer. "Top of the evening. You know, for a minute, I really thought that you were going to ambush me. Or…you know, them."

She smiled gently at him. "Deacon, it's good to see you again. I'm guessing that the Brotherhood sent a representative?" she pointed towards the sky over Vault 111. There, a vertibird hovered, facing their direction. "They're not all in there, are they?"

Deacon shook his head and opened the door. "Nope."

As she stepped into the house, sitting at the table was the big boss himself – Elder Maxson. She wasn't expecting him, only a representative. And flanked behind him against the wall, a small squad of Brotherhood troops in full power armor stood with an assortment of laser weapons ready.

"Well, shit," she cursed under her breath.

Elder Maxson's face betrayed no emotion, but given that she hadn't seen him since her decision to change the Institute from the inside, she imagined that all he wanted to do was kill her. In fact, it was pure amazement that he hadn't ordered his men to do the deed himself.

'Oh, what have I done?'

"Let's get this over with," Maxson said impatiently. "I don't like having the reporter in this room."

"Reporter?"

Sure enough, standing in the nearby corner, Piper waited with a pen and a notepad. Unlike Maxson, Keira could see the emotions playing across Piper's face, and she was angry. Though Piper did write that story that seemed hopeful, she refused to talk to Keira and they've had no contact since then. Keira didn't even think she would show up.

It was a long moment before she realized that she and Piper had been staring at one another, the former lovers struggling with a multitude of emotions. Piper was the one to break the gaze first, writing something into that pad of hers. "So, the biggest story of the Commonwealth: Meeting of Commonwealth's Biggest Powers. Guess we'll see who truly holds our safety in their hands."

Keira sat down at the table. "This is a negotiation, not a hostile takeover."

Maxson grimaced at the former Knight. "So negotiate. You will notice that my men did not fire upon you the moment you stepped foot in Sanctuary. I'm willing to hear your proposals. I owe you at least that much, in spite of your betrayal."

Keira sighed heavily. 'Why is it so damn hard to obtain peace?'