The laser shot hit Nora harder than she thought it would.

She had just barely turned in time to see the Courser pull the trigger on her- barely saw the barrel light up with that familiar red beam. And like a cat on the wrong end of a laser pointer, she was left scrambling to do something.

A little too late though.

Her head snapped around at the sharp heat that cut through the skin of her right cheek, leaving her mind spinning and reeling from the sharp blow. She felt her body follow through the sudden twist of her head, and felt her feet stumble. It was like everything moved in slow motion for a few seconds, as she lost the strength and balance in her legs, before they completely gave out from underneath her.

... She hit the ground harder than she should've.

Sheering hot pain rushed through her face as blood was quick to fill her mouth.

She moved her palm to press against the injury, hoping to protect the open wound from the dirt underneath her- as well as attempt to slow down the bleeding. But her hand pressed against skin that only peeled away and gave out underneath the touch, partly sliding the fat of her thumb between her teeth.

Christ, did it fucking hurt.

Nora's head was absolutely pounding, making it difficult to hear the battles still ongoing around her.

But she swore she heard someone shout, "General down!"

Part of her wanted to stay on the ground, curled up and in agony- because then, at the very least, she could didn't have to keep fighting.

But she did- she had to keep going.

Groaning, Nora pushed herself onto her forearm, and then worked her other arm underneath her- forcing herself back up amongst the chaos of shouting and gunshots echoing around her. She felt a tight hand grab her by the upper arm, before they hoisted her to her feet- which only made her head seemingly spin faster.

"You alright, Blue?"

Piper was standing to her left- completely oblivious to the wound on her right cheek.

"Lucky shot," Nora muttered, as she tried to straighten herself back up- working the strength and feeling back into her limbs. She felt light-headed and the bubbling of nausea filled her chest and throat; the lack of proper sleep and the overwhelming feeling of stress was taking its toll on her now. Warm blood ran thickly down her cheek and dripped off of her chin, some of it even filling her mouth despite the attempts to spit it out- which only left behind a bitter copper taste on her tongue.

She had to keep fighting though; she had to keep moving forward.

None of this was over just yet.

"Come on, let's put an end to these things."

Her men had been somewhat scattered when the second wave of Synths had arrived, which oddly enough worked out in their favor. They splintered further apart, so that one team remained up front, while the rest took the alleyways and back field- ensuring that the important veins of Diamond City were covered.

Doing so made them lose their strong, pushing front, but this technique allowed them to clear different portions of the city at once.

Which was greatly needed.

The Synths went down with fair ease- although not nearly as quickly as the first wave had.

It was the Coursers that provided some struggle. There were only two of them, but these things were created and trained to kill- and it took every man looking out for each other to avoid a casualty.

With Piper and Nick's persistent bullet peppering though, the Courser duo went down in a haze of smoke and blood.

...

By the time it was all over again, they were all practically kicking aside the synthetic parts that had piled up in the streets.

Nora, once more, found herself standing amongst the wreckage and chaos- and once more, she found herself getting sick from the smell of burning machinery. Too many bullets, and too many risks, but... the city was safe. For now.

"Is everyone alright? Do we have any injured?" Nora called, watching as her men slowly regrouped back at the center of the marketplace. Most of them appeared to be in good health, but... she wasn't going to risk it.

"Just a few of us," Kellis, one of her men, answered; he was limping himself even as he carried someone on his shoulder. "Nothing serious though- I twisted my ankle running down the stairs."

Nora couldn't help but to offer the man a sympathetic laugh- gracious that he was still doing everything he could to remain on his feet. She turned to scan the rest of her men, hoping not to see any serious injuries, but expecting some regardless. Instead, however, she spotted Preston as he came towards her once again- and almost immediately she knew that chest wound from the day before was not treating him well. He looked pale, and tired, despite the straight way he walked towards her. "You alright, Cowboy?" she pressed, worry and concern spilling easily into her voice. "You're not looking too good."

"I'm fine," he assured once more, not even skipping a beat with the answer, before admitting, "although I'm not sure if I'm going to last through a third wave. I'm a little more worried about that cut on your face though- what happened?"

She touched at the cut- careful not to touch it directly though. It stung, but the pain had numbed down to the point where it felt like half of her face was paralyzed; hell, it hurt to talk, and she wasn't even sure if she wasn't slurring her speech right now. Deep down, she was freaking out over it. It was a hell of an injury, and it wasn't like she wanted to know how it would feel to have her cheek ripped in half. But she couldn't exactly risk a meltdown right here- not in front of her men anyways. Not when the day before, she had seen several of her people nearly get their arms blown off by similar shots.

"Courser shot," Nora spoke, "it shouldn't slow me down though."

If the remark was supposed to reassure Preston in the slightest, it didn't appear to have that effect.

And she couldn't really blame him for not believing her.

"You just gave me one hellva story to write- and one with a happy ending this time, at least for now."

Nora looked up and turned at the voice- her hand automatically moving down to cover her spliced cheek. She watched as Nick and Piper found them once more through the mess of synthetic bodies, and regrouped with them.

"So what now, Blue?"

"We regroup, we rest... and then we go for the Institute," Nora answered, with a strange sense of confidence. "I'm not sure exactly how we're going to do it just yet, but I'm not going to let them get away with this." All of this, all of the damage that they had done to the Institute today... it wasn't even a slap on the wrist for them. It was a bold ass statement, sure, but that didn't mean shit if they couldn't do some major damage to really get them hurting.

She wanted to hurt them.

She wanted... she wanted Shaun to know what it was like.

"You're talking war then?" Nick questioned.

"Genocide if I have to," Nora corrected, catching sight of her men finally grouped together in one place; most of them were seated on the ground where they had cleared out the space to do so. From what she could tell, they had every head that they had walked in with, so... no casualties. Thank God. They would be waiting for her though; they needed her. She turned her attention back to Piper and Nick, who seemed to have noticed as well. "If you'll excuse us for a moment," she spoke, as she nudged Preston on the arm, before they two of them headed over to their weary, but proud-looking group.

A few of her soldiers were still standing, still on-guard, waiting for a potential third wave to arrive. Nora wasn't certain why, but she got the feeling that this might be it. If the Institute was planning attacks across Boston, then... they couldn't exactly risk wasting any more Synths.

A majority of her men were seated though, with some of them lying down completely, while others poured water over their heads and faces- either trying to cool themselves down, or draw themselves back into reality.

"We did it once, and we managed to do it again," Nora spoke, offering the best smile she could despite one mutilated cheek. "The Institute should've learned by now not to fuck with the Minutemen."

The crowd gave a small, weary, but honest cheer.

"So what do we do now, General?"

"We rest," she answered, "we deserve it." and she smiled again at the second, more energetic cheer, before she waved them down. Pulling out the radio she had stuffed into the inside of her jacket, one that Ronnie had packed for her, she switched it on and raised it to her mouth. "Castle, this is the General calling in, do you copy?" she spoke, holding the radio slightly off so that everyone could hear the response.

"It's good to hear your voice again, General."

Nora sighed and smiled in relief at the sound of her voice. "Ronnie, it's actually good to hear you again. Diamond City is safe and secured for the moment. We have minimum wounded, and no casualties. How are things on your end?"

"It's all quiet on this end, General."

"Good, good... Keep an ear out for any of the other units, alright? We're a little scattered right now, and I want them checking in as soon as possible- and I want you to radio me as soon as you hear back from them."

"You got it."

Nora nodded, before she slipped her radio back into her jacket, and turned back to her men. "Alright, let's get the wounded to Doctor Sun's clinic, and get you guys patched up again."

Those of her men who were up to it continued to do security checks around the city- keeping post just in case another Institute attack struck. They went door to door, assuring the Diamond City residents that everything was over for now. Many of them insisted on staying hidden, or returning back to their homes to lock up, but a few decided to come out to inspect the damages.

The security guards went back to their posts, abet a little shaky and nervous now. But the mess of synthetic pieces lying around, and the sight of plenty of Minutemen seemed to assure them that everything was going to be alright. Some of the guards went to work on cleaning up the streets by shoving the synthetic pieces aside, and piling them up towards the back field.

Nora briefly wondered if she could convince Myrna to take the spare pieces for parts to sell- but she wasn't sure if she'd be able to convince the shopkeep that there weren't any kind of tracking devices on the Synths. She had a feeling Myrna would just close the door in her face at the offer.

At the very least, Doctor Sun was quick to reopen his clinic and get her men running through it. He worked fast, and efficiently with each person- even though the worst injury of them all might've been Kurtis' hip shot from a Courser. Nothing tragically bad, although he'd have to stay off his feet for awhile.

She insisted that everyone else get looked at first while she continued to patrol the city- but after nearly passing out once or twice from the rapid feeling of nausea, she decided to bite the bullet and get in line.

"You're lucky you still have all your teeth intact," Doctor Sun mused, as he hit her up with a Stimpak first, before he went about cleaning the wound. "And your tongue for that matter."

She figured as much, and tried to remain still as he cut away the burnt, dead skin that flaked off under his hands.

Nora wasn't certain if, at one point, she passed out during the procedure, or what, but she didn't remember a lot of it. She didn't remember Sun stitching her patchwork cheek back together, or plastering it with an... orange paste of some kind. She also didn't remember possibly puking up twice in the corner bin of the room, but Sun seemed insistent on reminding her of that.

"It would be too difficult to bandage the injury as is- without wrapping your entire head up of course. Just try not to touch the ointment, it'll cure the burns, and seal the wound for the time being. It smells horrible, but it does the job."

"Ugh, thanks for the work, Doctor," Nora muttered, feeling heavy on her feet now as she shifted back into her coat- trying to ignore what felt like rocks in her stomach. "Just put everyone under my tab, alright? I'll get the payment to you the next time I'm in town."

"It's good money to pass up on, but... keep it," Doctor Sun spoke, washing his hands in the nearby sink. "You just saved the city from become a second University Point- it's the least I can do in thanks."

She wished she could've done more than nod, but it was all she could muster out, before she stepped out of the small clinic.

Nora barely made it a few steps out before she felt Preston next to her- briefly catching her as she was more focused on how the sun hurt her eyes than the rocks under her feet.

"You alright? You look a little..." his voice trailed before he finished, hinting that he couldn't think of something appropriate to say.

"I'm great- Miss. America right here," she mused, giving a half smile on her unaffected cheek. "How long was I in there? What'd I miss?"

Preston chuckled briefly at her somewhat slurred questions. "Well Piper managed to reserve all the rooms down at the DugOut Inn, as you requested, and a lot of our guys are already there. Of course, the unfortunate part is that Vadim insisted on free booze for everyone- and he wouldn't take no for an answer, so... that might be a reason why some of the guys are passed out in the DugOut lobby."

Nora gave a subtle laugh as she leaned in heavily against his shoulder. A nice cold beer sounded really good right now if she didn't think she would vomit all over the place- or that it would spill out through her open cheek. "Thank God Ronnie isn't here."

"You're telling me."

"Hey, there you two are," Piper called as she hurried across the marketplace to them. "You two are actually pretty easy to lose, believe it or not. And look at you, Blue, looking... front page worthy."

"Please, Piper... I know," Nora replied, garnering a quick laugh from the woman. "Now then, if you don't mind me... I need to crash somewhere while I still have my dignity intact."

"Why don't you two crash at my place?" the woman offered. "You guys certainly deserve to get some rest yourselves- and I'm pretty sure the Inn is already past max capacity. I'll just have to kick Nat out for a bit, but I'm sure she won't mind."

"You're a Saint, Piper," she sighed, as she rubbed the back of her neck- trying hard not to touch at her thickly plastered cheek. "If anyone asks for me though, just let them know I'm in there. I got a few loose reports I'm trying to hear back from... and I don't want to miss a potential call." she watched as the woman nodded, before she tugged Preston on the arm and pulled him with her. "Come on, let's go."

It was a short, yet slow walk to the News reporter's house, and she leaned against him the entire time.

It felt like she was going to pass out on her feet.

Stepping inside of the small house, she gave out a heavy groan and worked off her coat, before she tossed it over the back of a nearby chair. There was a coat rack nearby, but she didn't think she could even lift her arms high enough for the coat to reach the first hook. Numb fingers barely worked off her chest plate as well, which fumbled into the chair just the same- just barely avoiding a bounce onto the floor.

"I never want to see another Synth again," Nora muttered, as she slowly eased herself down onto the couch- feeling her entire body turn to stone at the motion.

Preston offered her a brief, sympathetic chuckle. "I don't think that's possible for you right now," he reminded, "especially with the plans you have in mind."

Nora groaned once more, before she ushered for him to join her, and watched as he took the other end of the couch- allowing their legs to slightly overlap one another. "I bet they sound pretty crazy, right?"

"I haven't heard the full story, so I can't pass judgement," he replied.

As much as she talked about going head-to-head with the Institute... it wasn't like she had a concrete way of doing so right now. She was pretty certain the Transmitter wouldn't work anymore, and that was the only way in.

She didn't want to admit that all of this may be for naught.

"Well... right now, it's just me talking out the ass," Nora muttered, as she took one of the loose couch pillows and hugged it to her chest.

"Get some rest, General."


"Glory, look, I know you don't want to give up the fight, but... if we leave now, we at least escape with our lives!"

She gritted her teeth at the words that were barely registered over the roar of her minigun. Her eyes were firmly set on the Synth patrol that was making its way up the street in front of them. She had yet to see a Courser, but that wasn't to say that one wouldn't relay in sometime soon- especially since she was making a mess of these Synth patrollers. It wasn't like they were losing, but... "And then what, High-Rise? We find another place to sit on our hands until they come after us again? I'm through with running away!"

The man shot her a look from where he was tucked behind a nearby broken wall to her left. Despite his words urging them to run, he didn't leave her side. "You're too stubborn, G."

"Yeah well, I guess they should've looked into that design flaw," Glory replied, as she finished off her ammo reel before she ducked behind the pillar against her back; she could already feel the palms of her hands getting hot from the overworked barrel, as one hand ripped the empty stock out, before she hastily began reloading. God knows how many bullets she had already pumped into those Institute bastards- but she had plenty more if they wanted it.

There were already synthetic bodies piling up on the road to the left of Ticonderoga- about two units' worth of scrap pieces that she and High-Rise had already gunned down. As much as she hated to see it... as much as she hated to gun down her own kind, they didn't give her any other choice. It was either the Institute, or the Railroad- and she damn well knew where her loyalties lied.

If she had to die here to ensure the tower, then fine.

"Glory! High-Rise!"

She broke contact with her minigun just long enough to see Deacon come scrambling up behind them- immediately ducking behind a barricade to her right. The man was a little beaten up and bloody, but overall in good health. His knuckles were white as he kept a tight grip on his gun with one hand, while the other wiped the sweat from his brow and neck.

Deacon was a born liar, hardly ever sweated his way through a story, let alone a fight.

So this must've been pretty serious for him.

"Look, we got all the agents and synths evacuated, but our exit is about to be cut off- we need to leave now," he spoke.

"Glory, look-" High-Rise started, attempting yet another futile debate.

"If you want to leave, then leave!" she bit, as fingers finished with the reload, before she hoisted her gun back up again. She flinched briefly as she heard the sound of Institute rifles going off, and watched as the fusion beams just barely missed her; she felt a lot of them strike the pillar against her back, causing it to shake with each hit. "I'm not going."

"What do- what do you mean you're not going?" Deacon snapped, before he ducked further down as more Synths teleported onto the streets in front of them- filling the broken road completely. And suddenly, all those units they had taken down were nothing but pocket change, as nearly twice that amount began moving in on them. "Glory, this is not a suicide mission! If we leave now, the only thing we lose is the building- and yes, I know it is a very nice place, but it is not worth your life! Now come on, Dez still needs you!"

It wasn't about the goddamn building!

It was a matter of principle, of fight... She was tired of running away and letting the Institute win again and again. She didn't want another Switchboard, she didn't want another Tommy Whispers; she just wanted to win.

Just this once.

"When are we going to-"

The words were half-finished before a high-pitched whistling sound cut her off. Glory peeked around the side of the pillar for a split second, wondering just what the hell had made that noise; it wasn't from their end, and she didn't know of any Institute weapon that could-

A few seconds later, she caught sight of something in the air, before the entire street in front of them erupted into a mess of fire and smoke. She pulled back around and braced herself against the pillar as the aftershock of the blast blew past them- sending a cloud of dust and debris all around them. The metallic clang of robotic pieces echoed around her, as she briefly caught sight of a few arms and legs that had been launched into the air.

Her mind had been racing underneath the constant wave of laser rounds, and bullets, but now... now it came to a stop.

She didn't question how much time they might've had left, or how many more Synth patrol units were going to relay in.

She didn't wonder if everyone had been evacuated yet, or not- or if another patrol would round up behind them and gun them down.

No.

Her mind all but stopped on a single question.

Where the hell did that explosion come from?

She wasn't even aware she had been holding her breath until she let it out, until she peek out from around the pillar once the smoke had cleared. The explosion had not only cleared out the entire street of Synths, but... it had also partly destroyed the road, and blew out a good chunk of a nearby building.

"We don't use explosives like that," High-Rise breathed, sounding hesitant, back pressed tight against his cover, "and the Institute sure as hell doesn't either."

"That's because Dez won' let us," Glory whispered. She sure as hell would love to use that kind of equipment- that kind of power. But what the hell could've fired off that explosive anyways? It was too big to be from a rocket launcher, and it sounded like a goddamn cannon.

And more importantly, who fired it?

Her eyes caught sight of figures moving in the smoke, and quickly drew her minigun back up- fingers tight on the trigger as she began to spin the barrels to warm them up. She wasn't going to be caught off-guard just by a fancy light show.

Before she could fire even a single bullet though, Glory watched as Deacon leapt to his feet, and quickly pushed down on the minigun- forcing her to release the trigger.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he interrupted, moving like all life depended on it. His face was tense as he stared intently at the moving figures in front of them; his sunglasses had partly slipped down his nose, making him seem even more anxious with the motion. "You gotta be fucking me..."

"Deacon, what the fuck are you talking about?" Glory hissed, as she jerked her minigun out from underneath him- nearly knocking him to the ground.

He gave a half-assed kind of laugh, like a mix of nerves and relief. "It's the goddamn Minutemen."

"The who?" High-Rise questioned, as he lowered his gun and somewhat stepped out from behind his cover as well. "I thought they went down months ago?"

"High-Rise, my friend, you do not keep your head in the news, do you?"

Glory watched as the arriving group seemed to do a sweep of the area, putting down any straggling Synths, before they made their way towards them. Sure enough, she recognized their ridiculous-looking uniforms, and that alone was enough to convince her to keep her minigun down. "Just what the hell are the Minutemen doing out this far?" she muttered, keeping her grip tight.

"Sorry if you got caught in that blast- we didn't realize you guys would be so close by," One of the men spoke as the group drew closer. "Abraham Finch. The General sent us here- said she had some people here who needed the extra hands. I can only go off the assumption that that would be you guys."

She had to bite back the sense of surprise in her voice. "The General?" Glory repeated, before she slowly looked over to Deacon. "Charmer did this?"

"I can't fucking believe this," Deacon started, laughing to himself as he corrected his sunglasses, before he lightly slapped her on the arm. "Come on, I mean, we were just talking to her, acting all melancholy about this ordeal, and she... she- Christ, my friends, your timing here could not have been any more perfect," he continued, as he stepped forward and quickly grabbed Abraham by the hand, giving it several heavy shakes.

"What the hell was that explosion anyways?" High-Rise questioned.

"Artillery," Abraham replied, "didn't think it would reach this far out, but I guess the wind was with us."

Alright, so... the Synths on this end were completely wiped out, which meant that there was no way they could be cut off now. And with a full evacuation already filled, everyone was out of here and tucked away in safety. The only thing they had to worry about now was whether or not the Old North Church had been hit.

... But for now, Glory let her shoulders relax for a bit. "I... I can't believe this- where's the General now?"

"She and a couple of boys are at Diamond City right now," he answered. "We just got word from the Castle though that she pulled off the siege successfully and deflected the Institute attack."

Charmer split her own forces so that she could send some of her men here?

To protect them?


Nora didn't know what time it was, or how long she had been out when she found herself stirring back awake. Her body still felt heavy, and every inch of her protested movement as she pushed herself up from the arm of the couch- only to roll herself onto her back instead. One hand clumsily rubbed at her eyes, urging them to open while the rest of her tried to fall back to sleep.

Her eyes did open though, only to focus on a blurred face standing over her.

She gasped as she felt herself physically jump at the sight, and somewhat scramble to push herself up. It only took about two seconds for her vision to clear up enough for her to realize who she was staring at- in which she collapsed against the back of the couch with a groan; one hand clutching at her chest. "Jesus, Nat, you're going to give me a heart attack."

The girl merely shrugged, and stepped back. "Piper asked me to check on you."

... Right.

This was Piper's house.

Nora nodded and briefly looked around for a clock or something that might tell her the time- only see nothing that might help her. "What time is it? How long have I been asleep?"

"I dunno."

"Thanks Nat, you're a real big help."

A quiet laugh nearby hinted at a third party member, and Nora turned her head just enough to see Ellie in the chair adjacent to the couch- it looked as though it had been pulled up closer. "It's about eight now, so you've been out for... five hours, maybe? Give or take a few minutes," she answered, as she seemed focused on the dark-blue coat in her lap; her hands gently stitching up one of the holes in the sleeve. "You were out like a rock too."

Christ, she hoped she didn't go into the deep-slumber snoring fit she normally did.

"Five is pretty long though," Nora mused, as she rolled her legs onto the floor, before she leaned forward to stand- groaning as the motion brought out the kinks in her lower back and hips. "Longer than I'm used to sleeping anyways."

"Well I'm going to assume you and your boys are gonna stay in the city over night," Ellie spoke, as she tied off her stitch and held the jacket up for inspection, before she moved to work on the next hole. "The couch will always be here. Or, you could sleep in the spare bed we have down in the office- it might be a little more comfortable."

"Or I could take Nat's bed," Nora replied.

"I don't think so."

She chuckled lightly at the sharp response, before she took a few steps around the room to get the blood pumping back into her legs. She was painfully aware of how heavy her footsteps sounded against the creaky floorboards. "Thanks for working on the coat, Ellie- I know it's not in the best of shape."

"Hey, no problem, I have to fix Nick's coat all the time- and you want to see some real wear-and-tear," Ellie assured. "Oh, by the way, Preston got up and left about half an hour ago. He got a called on his radio, and left to go answer it; it sounded pretty important too if you ask me- not that I was eavesdropping of course."

Nora paused for a moment, realizing now that she didn't even notice the man missing when she woke up.

Not to mention, her curiosity over what the call might've been about... Hopefully it was Abraham's and Blake's teams checking in with the Castle. "Okay, thanks, I'll go see if I can't catch him," Nora spoke, before she headed out the door.

It was fairly dark out with the exception of the stadium lights shining on overhead.

The city was still dreadfully quiet, and there was hardly anyone in the streets, or at their market stalls. Well, with the exception of Takahashi at the Noodle stand, who was actually quite busy serving a couple of her men.

With hope, they would have a quiet night, and that would be the end of the Institute attacks- but she could only hope and pray.

"Oh, good to see you're up again, Blue," Piper called to her, as she swiveled around on her stool at Takahashi's stand before she hopped off and started towards her. "Hope you don't mind, but I've been interviewing some of your boys to get a better picture of everything that's been going on around here. And let me just say, a lot of them couldn't stop talking about you, you know."

Nora smiled at the comment, and rubbed the back of her neck. "How flattering," she mused, "but they're obligated to talk nice about me; I'm the General."

"Very funny," Piper playfully scoffed, as she lightly socked Nora on the arm. "I got enough goods to get a weeks worth of news out- but I would love a second interview when you got the time."

"Don't you worry, Piper, when this all over, and everything plays out the way it should, you're going to have a hell of a story," Nora assured. "But first, have you seen Preston? Ellie said he got a call on the radio, and I really need to know what it was. I got a couple of loose units out there that were supposed to report back when they could- I just want to make sure they're all right before I settle in for the night."

"I got you," she nodded. "I think he was headed down to the DugOut Inn the last time I saw him- probably to check in on your boys there."

"Thanks," Nora replied, patting her once on the shoulder, before she headed off that way. She made her way across the marketplace and down the far, right alleyway- knowing it would take her straight to the DugOut Inn. Her heart was already racing as she tried to figure out what the call backs might've been about; she had her sights set on all good news, but there was absolutely no telling.

She ended up running into him as he made his way back towards her.

"Hey, what are you doing up already?" Preston questioned. "I figured you would be out for the rest of the night."

"I could ask you that same thing," she replied. "Ellie told me you got a message on the radio. Did one of our teams report back, or did something happen?"

"No, no, everything's fine," he assured, as he moved one hand to her shoulder, squeezing it briefly in support. "In fact, I got a response back from Abraham Finch, who informed me that they had successfully driven off the Institute Synths by Ticonderoga. And that, after speaking to the people there, apparently everyone had evacuated beforehand, so there were no casualties."

Nora could've dropped to the ground in relief right then and there.

Instead, she gave out a heavy, relieved sigh and leaned in against him, loosely wrapping her arms around him. "Thank God," she whispered, "that's one less thing to worry about then."

"And, on top of that, Blake Abernathy just called in a few minutes ago as well," Preston continued. "They just finished clearing out the old historical district, and so far, there's been no more Institute sightings. The only issue is that Dogmeat decided to stay back with a blonde-haired woman with a loud gun- and that she said that the General would know where to go in order to get him back."

Nora quietly laughed at the news; she had told Dogmeat to stay with Desdemona, but... the Railroad leader didn't exactly know that. "I can't believe everything worked out," she whispered, as she buried her head into his shoulder.

"You said it yourself that it was either them, or us," he reminded.

"I know, but... you know that didn't mean shit."


"You should really try to cut back on the smoking."

Desdemona chose to ignore the advice as she lit up what might've been her eighth cigarette in two hours. Might've been more, might've been less- she wasn't exactly keeping count of the stubbed out butts that littered the floor around her.

"You should cut back on the unsolicited advice," she replied, musing over the silence of the room as the first breath of smoke escaped her lips. A quiet whine caught her attention and she looked down to the dog that was somewhat curled next to her. Not out of comfort, or loyalty, but... he had gotten tired of pacing the small, underground room and eventually settled with the worn down rug under her chair.

She heard Carrington give off an irritated sigh, and watched as he went back to tending the wounded- as minorly injured as they were. They were anticipating Institute forces, although they knew there would be too many. As long as their safe houses were out of danger, the church was a reasonable loss. Of course, the synths hit sooner than anticipated, but... they were able to stand their ground for the most part.

...

What they hadn't been anticipating however, was the battle assist.

She could only assume Charmer was somehow behind it- although she wasn't certain of how. Glory and Deacon had made the warning runs earlier, and both mentioned something about catching Charmer with the impending information if they could.

She had heard about the Castle.

And didn't think there was much that could've been done in the aftermath- God knows they had been through that situation plenty of times before. But... there was apparently something with the Minutemen getting knocked down, only to rise stronger than before.

All while Charmer lead the charge and pulled the strings.

Desdemona briefly glanced up as Carrington sat down next to her; his body was still tense, hands still shaking, but... he looked to be the most relaxed she had ever seen him. Especially after something like this.

"Could've been another Switchboard," he remarked.

"Could've been, but wasn't."

"Barely."

She nodded, giving him that much. "Barely," Desdemona agreed, "at least we would've had Deacon and Glory to carry on the operation."

He gave a brisk, half-assed laugh, and brushed his hand across his forehead. "They would sink the operation," he corrected.

That much she doesn't argue.