Author's Note: Here's my second fanfic story, and this one is for one of my favorite Xbox 360 games - Fallout 3. I promise to continue my work on "Saviors of Azeroth", that will certainly not change, but I'm just taking a small break from it so I can begin this. I'm just going to play through the game, and write what happens to me as I progress through the Capital Wasteland, but don't worry. It will not be a step-by-step narrartion. There will be plenty of original things in it, and some things will be changed a bit. Anyways, I began my work on this story on July 4, 2009 (Funny, huh?). As I have learned from my other story, the reviews I get from others greatly help me, so please leave some reviews! It's only the first chapter, and I'm already having a blast writting this! The first part is for those who have not played this game or do not understand the setting/main plot of Fallout 3 (For those of you who have played the game, I'm sure that you will recognize this small speech). So, here we go. I am pleased to present the first chapter of "Fallout 3: The Road to Reconstruction"! Enjoy...


Chapter 1: New Beginnings

"War...war never changes.

Since the dawn of human kind, when our ancestors first discovered the killing power of rock and bone, blood has been spilled in the name of everything; from God, to justice, to simple psychotic rage.

In the year 2077, after a millennia of armed conflict, the destructive nature of man could sustain itself no longer. The world was plunged into an abyss of nuclear fire and radiation.

But it was not, as some had predicted, the end of the world. Instead, the apocalypse was simply the prologue to another bloody chapter for human history, for man had succeeded in destroying the world. But war...war never changes.

In the early days, thousands were spared the horrors of the holocaust by taking refuge in enormous underground shelters known as vaults. But when they emerged, they had only the hell of the Wastes to greet them, all except those in Vault 101. For on that fateful day, when fire rained from the sky, the giant steel door of Vault 101 slid closed and never reopened.

It was here you were born, Thomas. It is here you will die, because in Vault 101, no one ever enters...and no one ever leaves."


The blinding light of the the outside world was not necessarily the greeting Thomas had expected from the Wasteland. It stabbed at his eyes and made him strain and squint in annoyance. After what seemed like forever, Thomas was finally able to adjust his eyes to fight off the overwhelming light that blocked his vision of the wasteland that lay before him. So that's the sun, huh? he thought to himself as he looked off into the distance.

Destruction was all around him. Wrecked cars, demolished buildings, and ruined roads stretched across the landscape's haze of death and radiation. It was even worse than Mr. Brotch had ever described back in the vault during class. "Horrible and desolate" was quite the understatement. From the moment Thomas realized that he had to escape from the Overseer and his men with the help of Amata, he began to anticipate what would be outside, waiting for him in the Wastes. Everyone he knew in Vault 101 had always spoke of the dangers of "the world outside", but they had never seen it for themselves. Thomas was getting ready to experience the trials of the Capital Wasteland, firsthand.

The Wastes were already much different from the safe isolation of the vault. Out there, there was no main room. No ceiling. No halls or corridors. The only light was the great sun that watched over the war-torn world. Thomas knew that it would take some time to get used to all of these changes, but it was better than staying in the vault with the Overseer trying to hunt him down.

Thomas lowered his head for a moment."Jonas...I'm so sorry all of this happened. I promise I will find Dad,"he muttered to himself before he started his descent down the rocky path. He strolled down the road leading into the nearest settlement, making further observations of the devastation. Only five minutes out of the vault, and Thomas was already seeing little pools of radiated filth. The road was cracked and was completely destroyed at some points. Thomas followed it until it led him to the small town. The sign at the front was somewhat destroyed, but still legible. It read:

"..lcome to Springvale!"

"Springvale"? Is there somebody at all here? he thought while he walked down the street. "Hello?! Is there anyone out there!"

No answer but the echo of own his plea and the howling of the wind. "Hello?! Anybody?!"

Same response. Springvale was simply dead. Not a soul was there to call out to Thomas; he was alone. However, that changed when he saw something moving on the other side of the street. Slowly reaching for his pistol, Thomas got closer to see a small metal ball with three antennae protruding out floating in the air, aimlessly wandering about the ruins of Springvale. He knew right away what it was.

An eyebot? What's one doing here? Thomas slowly approached the eyebot, lowering his 9mm. It continued to fly about, seeming to completely ignore Thomas. When he got close enough, Thomas could hear a voice coming from the eyebot.

It began to speak in a very powerful, human-like voice as it continued its little patrol. "Hello again, America the magnificent! This is President Eden, and I was hoping we could talk. Let's talk about government, shall we? Or more specifically, your government, dear America: the Enclave. Just who is the Enclave? Why, now that's simple. The Enclave is you, America. The Enclave is your sister, your aunt, your friend, your neighbor... and well...yes, the Enclave is me as well." There was a small chuckle. "As your president, it is my responsibility to preside over our great democracy. So, as your president, I am the voice, I am the heart, and soul of the Enclave. That is to say, I am the voice, heart, and soul of America. But only together... together, can we hope to reach our full potential. The way we were before the war: whole. Beautiful...powerful... One Enclave, one America...now and forever! And now, dearest America, we must say farewell. For there is much work to be done, and the Enclave never rests. Never. Until we meet again, this is your president, John Henry Eden, signing off." The patriotic music of flutes and drums soon escaped from the radio with the eyebot continuing its path.

The eyebot left Thomas in wonder. Question began to rush into his head instantly. Who is John Henry Eden? Who exactly is the "Enclave"? Are there other groups out there aside from the Enclave? Thomas did not pay much attention in his American Government class back in the vault, so he was a bit confused about how the government functioned at the time, but relieved to know that there were still signs of civilized life out there somewhere. Good thing the Wasteland isn't completely filled with barbarians, but I would like to know more about this, this "Enclave"...

Thomas holstered his weapon and continued his walk deeper into Springvale. He looked about until something caught his eye. It was a rusted metal sign with some sort of writting on the front. As Thomas got closer to it, the scent of yellow spray paint began to strengthen, making him feel a bit lightheaded. The sign read "Megaton" with an arrow pointing to his right.

What the hell does it mean by "Megaton"? Thomas wondered. He began to head in the direction of the arrow, hoping he would get an answer to his question. As Thomas hiked over the large boulders and mounds of debris, something stood out from the rocks and dirt in the distance. It seemed to be a crudely-made fortress of metal. Scraps and sheets appeared to be slapped onto the stronghold's canvas of rust. Even the parts of a crashed plane seemed to appear on segments of the settlement's walls.

Thomas sighed with great relief. The second sign of life I've seen! He hopped over more rocks and hurried to the scene. Growing closer, his step slowed and his caution rose as figures near the structure came into view. There was a man in a tattered, ruined outfit, a guard who patrolled from the top of the walls on a catwalk, and a Protectron edition robot covered in dust occupied the vicinity just outside the fortress's entrance. A large turbine was set just above the outer gate and looked as if it was the source of power to raise and lower the wings of the gate.

Like the eyebot Thomas encountered earlier, the Protectron seemed to be completely oblivious to the world around it. It stayed in place as its upper body and arms shifted to the next part of its movement pattern: To the left...Pause...To the right...Pause...Back to the left...Pause. Repeat. It starred off into the distance as if it was keeping watch or guarding whatever this place was.

The man had a very rough beard and greasy blonde hair and looked to be much older than Thomas. He made no effort to confront or even face him. The only thing he had the strength to do is just speak, sit on the rocks and glare at the Protectron and the protected. He held his throat and groaned. "Water..."

Thomas approached the area and looked around. He was glad to finally reach his newest destination. He looked at the Protectron with a curious look as it faced his direction. It soon spoke in a very static and monotone voice. It said, "Thirsty, partner? Try Moriarty's. Coldest drinks in the Capital Wasteland."

Angered, the man felt as if the robot was taunting him. "Oh shut the hell up you worthless scrap of metal! Do you think I wouldn't love to get a damn dri-" he stopped in mid sentence when he noticed Thomas. "What the...? Oh, thank God! Somebody new! Hey! Hey, kid! Come over here, please!"

Thomas turned to face the person who wanted his attention and walked over. "Hey, what is this place?"

The man chuckled at the fact that Thomas didn't know where he was. "Ha! You're kidding, right, kid? You've never heard of Megaton? Where the hell have you been all this time?" He then took notice to Thomas' blue jumpsuit and knew where he was from right away. Sarcastically, he continued to speak. "Oh, no wonder why you don't know! You've been cooped up in that underground prison, haven't you? Vault 101, huh?"

The mention of his home surprised Thomas. Just who was this person? "What the hell do you know about the vault?

Laughing again, the man answered his question. "Heh. More than you think, kid. When that vault closed, many people tried to get in. They needed to find a safe haven from the horrors of this Wasteland, but you vault sons of bitches denied them entry. You said they were 'tainted', and since us 'lesser people' were not good enough to enjoy the safety and refuge of such a shelter, they were all left to fend for themselves out here; left to die."

What this man was saying shocked Thomas. He couldn't believe that everyone he knew and everyone that looked after him all his life could do something as cruel as rejecting those who were dying and in need of help. Other people trying to get into the vault was never really spoken of back home, so it was a possibility that this man was telling the truth.

Could he be right? Thomas thought. I had never heard of people trying to enter 101 before. Did everyone just try to cover it up and pretend like it never happened? The man's story seemed like a possibility, but there was still one problem with it. "Why should I believe a complete stranger that I have never met in my entire life before? The Vault was sealed over two-hundred years ago, anyways!"

"That may have been before my time, but that doesn't mean I'm not suffering because of 101's arrogance. Since my ancestors and everyone else were turned down, I wasn't born with the guarantee of safety out here. I could have been like you... I could have grown up with the assurance that I would be safe!" the man shouted, now on the edge of shedding tears. He paused for a moment, attempting to collect himself. After a deep breath he continued, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken out my anger on you. You're just a kid, and I doubt any of this is your fault to begin with."

Thomas knew how this man must have felt. "Don't apologize. I should be the one doing that. I had no right to automatically assume that I was right. It's just that I haven't even been out here for two hours. I'm confused, lost, and I don't know what to do."

The man shot Thomas a curious look. "You shouldn't even beout here, kid. Why would you leave all of that safety behind to come to a shithole like this? Times are tough. Every day more and more people die out here, and I don't think there are very many good souls left in the world anymore." He grabbed his throat again and let out a hacking cough as a bigger problem rose. "Kid, I hate to ask, but do you have any water? Megaton only gives their supply to residents. Please...I'm dying. I just throw up this irradiated crap now. I can't do it anymore! I need purified water. Please..."

Thomas knew he had to help him. It wasn't in his nature to just leave someone in this kind of suffering. I have to do something...

He replayed the memories of his escape from the vault in his mind, hoping he would find an answer. Images flashed of him running, shooting, and hiding throughout Vault 101's deadly corridors. He remembered fighting the security guards and opening the steel door. Upon further and deeper thought, Thomas then remembered just before he left the vault, he snatched some bottles of fresh, clean water from a shelf in the storage room. That's it! Thomas checked his Pip-Boy's storage system, and sure enough, there were the four bottles he took. He took one of them and held it out to the man. "Here. I hope this helps."

A look of absolute shock appeared on the man's face as he stared at the teasing drink. It seemed almost too good to be true. Surely, this was some kind of cruel, sick joke. Staggered, he looked at Thomas. "Are...are you serious? I can have it? I...I have nothing to offer in return."

Thomas felt that what he was doing was the right thing to do. "I don't need anything from you. I insist that you take it. It's the least I can do to help," he said as he handed the man his Holy Grail.

His eyes widened in disbelief as he held out his trembling hand. "Water? Water! Precious water! You saved my life, kid! Thank you! You're a Saint! Thank you! I don't how I could ever repay you!" He unscrewed the plastic top off, desperate to soothe his agonizing throat, now drier than the Sahara, and took a big gulp.

Thomas nodded and smiled. "It's nothing at all. You got a name?"

The man finished his monstrous guzzle and returned his gaze to Thomas. "Call me Mickey. And you?"

"The name's Thomas Allen."

"I can't thank you enough, Thomas. With people like you, I think we do stand a chance at rebuilding. Thanks again. Farewell, and take care of yourself."

"I'm glad I could help. I hope to see you again, Mickey. Goodbye," Thomas said as he returned his attention to Megaton.

The outer gate remained closed and Thomas examined it for a moment, wondering what to do. Soon after, he heard another voice. "Hey, kid! Eyes up!" Thomas looked up to see the guard waving. "Hey, I saw you helping out that Mickey person. We could use more people like you here. I'll open the gate for you, go on in!"

Thomas squinched in annoyance with the clanking and screeching of metal screaming in his ears. The jet turbine spun furiously as the wings parted, allowing entry into Megaton. He looked up again to shout at the guard. "Thanks!"

The Protectron turned to face Thomas again. "Welcome to Megaton. Enjoy your stay!"

He nodded at the robot and slowly approached the inner gate, preparing to open it. I just hope someone in this place knows if Dad was here, he thought as he pushed open the way into Megaton, beginning the search for his father.