AN: Well, this chapter will contain the SS's POV, but will still mainly be Enzo's. As always, rate and review. It helps me out a TON! It let's me know what you guys like so I can dish out more of it.
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Sara Whitley's POV
I stumbled back into what used to be my home. The fire of war had engulfed, it along with every good thing about this world. What was left? A husk. A place where everything and more wanted to kill you. I ran my hand over the antique counter. The vault suit brushed uncomfortably against my body, but I ignored it. I had gone from a mild-mannered lawyer to a survivalist.
I held a 10mm pistol in my hand. It was a constant reminder of my late husband, Daniel. He had been a soldier in the war. He always had said "Given the choice between a rifle and a pistol, I'd choose a pistol." He had a hidden stash of weapons in our old closet. He had always been paranoid about the war reaching the US, so he insisted on having enough food, water, guns, ammo, and other trinkets to supply a 10-man team for a week.
I walked down the hallway and turned into Shawn's old bedroom. His crib was in tatters, missing a leg and several pieces. The mobile was hanging by a single stringer and his tiny mattress had multiple tears in it. A single solemn tear crept down my cheek. "Oh god," I breathed, "Please bring him back."
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Enzo-D407's POV
I had managed to use some of the drills in the ship to create an entrance and exit large enough for my pelican to fit. I had covered it with a hologram, so nobody would suspect a thing. I had managed to designate my pelican through its "dumb" AI.
I was currently going north, according to the AI's directions. The AI had matched the topography to every known planet in the UNSC database, and what the result was had caused me to basically nearly hurl in disbelief. It was Earth. From 2077, anyway. But what bothered me was that, if Earth had suffered something like this in the past, it would surely be in the records, no? And what made it even more stunning was that this was Massachusetts. I was currently in the area around Boston.
I was in a wrecked city. From what I remembered in geography class, this was probably Cambridge. The buildings around me looked like a bomb had been dropped on 'em. Suddenly, a man appeared on the street in front of me. He looked like a basketball player but was holding a rifle. I instinctively, I raised my gun. He turned to see me. "Shit! Synth!" he shouted, raising his gun, "Don't move, synth."
"The hell's a synth?" I asked, my voice steady. "Is this some sort of joke?" cried out the guard angrily. "I'm not the type to joke," I deadpanned beneath my helmet. "Are you with the fucking Institute?" he growled. "Negative. Are you with the UNSC or Insurrectionists?" I responded. "I don't know what the fuck those are," he responded. "I won't ask again. UNSC or Insurrectionists?" I asked.
"I said I don't fucking know what those are," said the guard irritably. "Fine, but I'll have you know, I'm not a synth. Whatever those are," I grunted. "Yeah, yeah. Diamond City's that way. Just know that we'll be keeping an eye on you," he said, then started walking away. Maybe I could get an answer in the city. I walked down the road to where the guard said, only to find another guard. "Synth!" he shouted, raising his gun. "I am not a synth. Now radio the other guards to let them know," I dismissed his worries and kept on walking. I heard him talking into the radio. "If you see big-ass fucker walking around in armor, don't fucking shoot him. He said he's not a synth. I personally don't believe him, but still, keep an eye on him," I heard him speak.
I then walked into what seemed to be a plaza. On my left, there was a large piece of metal blocking an entrance to a… ballpark? This is definitely one of my "the hell" moments. On the edge, there was a woman speaking into what seemed to be a buzzer. "Oh, c'mon, Danny! I live here! You can't just… lock me out!" she cried. "I'm sorry, Piper. The mayor says that article you wrote is all lies. The whole city's in a tizzy," said the voice coming from the buzzer. "Ugh! C'mon!" she pinched the bridge of her nose.
I walked up behind her and tapped her shoulder. She wheeled on me and screamed. "Calm down, donna," I said evenly. Her expression of horror turned to confusion. "Woman," I translated quickly. "Wait… are you the one who took out the muties back at the Atomatoys factory? Leaving their guts strewn out all over the floor?" she asked, her face contorting in recognition. "I… guess?" I drawled, slightly confused. "Yes!" she fist-pumped. She then clamped her hands over her mouth as if she had said something wrong. She then put a finger over her mouth, the universal sign to be quiet.
"Ey, Danny. A special guard detachment here! You gonna open the door and let us in?" she asked. "Maybe," said the voice. "He also has supplies to stock Myrna's store for a month! You gonna miss out on that?" she said. "Alright, alright, no need to make this personal, Piper," said the voice. A second later, the piece of metal blocking what I had guessed was the entrance lifted. "We better get inside before Danny catches onto the bluff," chirped Piper, then walked into the entrance.
"Non ho idea di cosa sia appena successo," I muttered to myself and followed suit. A rather hefty man in a brown suit and fedora was chastising Piper. "The city's already paranoid enough without you bringing up synths in every issue!" he shouted. He then turned to see me, his jaw dropping in astonishment. "And you brought on here!?" his face turned red in anger. "He's human," replied Piper evenly. "How do we have any reassurance?" retorted the man. "I'd know if I was a synth," I spoke matter-of-factly. Truth is, I didn't even know what the hell a synth was.
"Then where'd you get that advanced armor?" he asked, clearly believing I was lying. "UNSC Charon-class cruiser Star of Hope," I replied honestly. "What is that, some kind of club?" he asked. "He's not from around here," said Piper, and under her breath, I heard her say "Dimwit."
"Well… whatever!" grunted the man, waved his hand dismissively, then walked up some stairs. "Ah, a big Diamond City welcome! Feel honored yet?" she made jazz hands to emphasize Diamond City. "When did hospitality die?" I asked sardonically. "Anyway, follow me. You'd be perfect for a story," she grinned. She started walking up the same stairs. I followed her, ignoring the suspicious glances I got from the guards.
What I saw on the other side caught me off-guard. "I just walked into a shanty town. What next? I meet a cartoon character?" I grunted sarcastically, taking everything in. The houses were all built of what looked like rusted, discarded, sheets of metal. There was, what looked like one, anyway, a sort of out-doors bar down the path. Piper took a left the second we entered and talked to a little girl. I'm just going to hope that she was Piper's sister. "Well, sis. Keep those newspapers crankin'," she smiled. The little girl nodded and went back inside the re-utilized metal prefab. She then walked into her office, holding the door for me. Inside was a TV, a couch, a set of stairs, a pile of cinderblocks, and a printing machine. "OK, first question."
