Hey Guys. I'm just gonna start. Please review, tell your friends, and tell them to review. BTW: The chapter is a refrence to the Halo 4 motto. Just to let you guys know.

O

There's gotta be a way out. I mean, they cant't have this place inpenetrable, right? It's a repurposed rent-a-nuclear fallout shelter for fuck's sake! These things are only for the really paranoid when they come out from their homes and see a plane go overhead in Pre-War times!

It's a hunk of steel. Not even lead. Steel. My right hand is made of tougher shit! If I had the stength, I'd bust out of this fucking thing! Hell, my fist it probably enough to wrnech the door open!

I'm Al Sorenson, god-damn it! If these slaver fucks think they're gonna take me down, they're DEAD FUCKING WRONG!

O

Amata rotated her small shoulder. Though, from her perspective, it was a fucking massive one, being power-armored. It had taken some time, yes, but the Enclave soldiers managed to get her trained to use it. It was hard work, about 3 weeks worth. But form the brass's orders, apparently worth it.

No. No, they are not trying to use Vaulties as a shock trooper. Despite whatever your personal feelings might be on Vaultie one man armies, I'm a one-in-a-million- kind of Vaultie.

What? Why are they using Amata? Well, for how much annoyance and headaches she's caused Harkin, I'd be pretty eager to get her to feel like she's doing something. Not saying she's a total bitch. I really do have mixed feelings. It's strange.

So now Amata and two other soldiers are going out to scout the area. Which is utterly futitle, the Enclave already have extensive maps of the local area. So what's the point?

Well, you try a nagging girl up your ass about how you'e not helped the Wastes at all over the past months, and let's see you get an oppurtunity to get rid of her for a few days.

Yeah, pretty inviting.

O

There's a way out.

I know it.

There's just gotta be a way out. I mean, it's just a cylinder. A tube of metal. Outside it, a bunch of wrecked cars. Plenty of footholds to climb over. From there?

An endless expanse of hidey-holes.

But what's truly out there? Yes, freedom, yes, victory. But you know what I miss most of all? Or rather, who?

I'll give you one guess.

Sarah.

I know. I'm predictable when it comes to her. But how can I not be? She's beautiful, smart, can at least accept my off-the-walls sense of humor. And God, but must she be worried.

I'll come to you soon.

I promise.

O

It's past midnight. The moon's waning, and dropping from it's heavenly height. It's beams of gentle light caress the wastes, giving them a beauty unheard of to those who sleep at night without fail.

A small pack of Yaoi Guai roam, searching for a cozy cave to rest. Raiders, Mercs, and Wastelanders try to do the same, if they hadn't already.

It's astoudningly calm. There's no gunfire. Or atleast, it's far and few. Most people are listening to the recording of my funeral. Everyone's still mourning. Even Raiders.

Only one thing wrong with this picture. A glimmer on a rock. Any normal person would take it as the wavy mirage they see off the asphalt. And just before sleep, they realize that thoe only happen during the day.

Not at 3:00 am.

But this doesn't matter to Hollow. He can care less if some wastrel spots him. Devil knows how long Hollow'd been sneaking. Suit just makes it easier.

He's a man on a mission: Find his friend. Me, the man who helped him realize his valiant past. Help him realize he was not always a Slaver.

And he's outside the only place that could possibly hold me.

Paradise Falls. Home sweet Home.

O

How bad can it be?

I mean, it'd be easier that taking this, right?

THe box, the silence, the beating, the starvation, me being with my own thoughts. God, my own thougts are killing me!

There's no way free will could be this pleasurable. I mean, silent servitude couldn't be all bad, right?

A cot, regular meals, other people, light, sounds. Hell, just thinking about it makes it sound great.

I might just do it.

I mean, it can't be so hard saying that free will isn't all that great.

So all I have to do is wait.

I'm good at waiting.

O

Two men, partially bulky build. One on left a six, the right a seven. Right has a sledgehammer and a 32. Left has Hunting Rifle, and kitchen knife. Both headed toward the Box. Hollow'd already figured that that's where I was at. This only confirmed it.

Through the scope of his rifle, he watched the two open the box, and drag out a huge son of a bitch. They dragged me with my legs hanging behind us toward the main building. Probably where the leader is. On second thought, definetly. Once they dragged me into the complex, he scanned the rest of the new Paradise Falls.

All of them not like the Slavers. They were there solely out of selfless reasons. They wanted to help heal people.

AKA: Off limit kills.

Hollow cursed, then regretted it. His throat burned, he lifted a hand to soothe it, but stopped. He lowered it, hoping that toughing it out would make it hurt less in the future.

He shimmied back, then rolled over onto his back.

He sighed. I was gonna have a tough time getting out.

O

God, this is so familiar by now. Me, held up by two men, on my knees in front of this short-haired woman. Me, a hulking 6'8 son of a bitch, in a trampled, weak state of mind and body.

SHe looks down at me, arms crossed. An almost...patient, caring look in her eyes. Her mouth frowning.

ANd then the lips part, making noise before they began.

"So. Are we ready to admit it?" I stayed silent. Whish is a first. "What? No remarks on my hair, or, how you take free will like jet? What a pleasent surpise." She says with mockery.

I simply stare hard. Not too many people like it when I glare. My eyes get this cold, really calculating look to them. They reflect just a little more light, and I never falter until they look first. And I never blink.

She looks back, tries to match my look. To no avail. But rather than try and brush it off, she simply gets to her point.

"Free will is not a good thing."

Now, and I regret this fully, there was only a moments pause. And that was to wet my throat. But, almost like a dream, I hear something.

"Ree...-ill...-ot...ing..."

Her eyebrows shoot up, her eyes alight in anticipation. She heard somehting other than the spiteful retorts I've been known for.

"Say again." It wasn't a request, as if something distracted her. It was "Let me make sure I heard you right." She wanted to make sure.

"-Ree...will...not...good."

She smiled sickeningly. "One more time." HEr lips moved.

My throat was ready. But I'm not sure what I was thinking. I never will.

"Free will...is not a good thing."

She smiled. Warmly, actually. "Let him up. Get him a chair. And water, now!" She yelled at her gaurds. They scuttled off, obeying her whim. She kneeled in front of me, in fornt of my chair. She looked into my eyes, softly, and talked about how I'd finally made the right choice. Honestly...I kinda beleive her. If she's actually trying to help people, or atleast the oes who need it, then maybe I can help.

I mean, there's really not much that the Wastes can't handle, right? The Enclave can't be so bad. Hell, I blew their base sky high. Destroyed their president. I'd do it again, too! (FBI, if you're reading this, I don't mean that. It's President Eden, not Obama. Oh say can you see...) So they won't be a problem for a long time. Everyone probably thinks I'm dead.

Some idiot made a rumor, and cause I haven't been around, Three Dog might've decided to go through with it. Gotta love the snowball effect. So I'm dead. Great!

Well...since I'm dead, I can take a break. Have some well-deserved down time from the fame. Hell, gettin' better all the time!

O

Movement. His eyes shift. The door opens, men scurry out, scattering. Something happened. Something big. Hollow pulled his head away from the scope. As good a sniper as he was, he couldn't track four or five men at once through the crosshairs. He followed the first one. He went running off to the mess hall. For food? Why? It's well past their lunchtime. And yes, Hollow has been here for a few days, and when he wants a location scouted, he notices everything.

It's too early for dinner. So...what? Hollow shifted his eyes down to the sand. They take him to Eulogy's home. As Hollow thought of the paragon of sin, an old flame of rage quivered inside of him. All that man had taken...

No.

Hollow can't think of that. I taught him that the only way to heal was to move past it, and never, ever, ever look back. He beat the flame into the smolders it had been for years. And with it came a sense of pride. He overcame his anger, not letting himself become what he hated. He smiled behind his orange visor.

His ever-focused gaze moved up again. They hurried back to the main building. Hollow peered through his scope once more, and a second nature took over. His mind dulled, only running auto-pilot. Most people think that when you're sniping, you have to count for everything, and it's why snipers are always mentally exhausted.

No. The truth is that you're in hyperfocus. All you can see is your target. You watch him breath, draw his final few breaths. You see him step, check if he has a limp that could make him stumble. All you think about is the target, then the next one after that.

His breathing slowed, his body tensed. He wasn't going to take a shot. But it was simply a habit. And a good one. So he really didn't find it in his best interests to try and break it.

All the little worker ants scurried into the building. The glass was old, stained, and no one had the mind to clean it, so Hollow, despite his eyes, couldn't see behind it.

He cursed in his mind. Only way to tell what was going on was to be right there.

With his skill though...he could probably sneak in without so much as a sidelong glance his way. His suit helped too. He slid backwards from his hill and rolled over. He didn't want to risk his comrade's life though.

O

I can't remember anything really. I mean, sure, there's some stuff, but it doesn't seem to be too important. At least I think so. I mean, something's trying to tell me that I need to do something.

Just something.

It's infuriating, really. That little itch that won't go away. But that really doesn't matter. Mrs. Ananda was a kind leader, and she gave me a week or two of rest before setting me to do tasks. Which were easy. Just help feed the people, help rehabilitate them, and do other stuff. It was all pretty easy. All the other gaurds are nice to me now, and the two that were my handlers apologized. But the way they said I acted? Killing people and eating them? I would've done it too.

Handlers are the people that are assighned to one or two of the people here. The handlers will try to rehab the patients, but of course sometimes they must be beaten, and once we think they're ready for normal life, we place the handler in a room, and a 10mm on a table. We let the patient come in and we tell him that he has a choice: Killl his handler, the man who more or less tortured him, or walk away. Those who walk away are ready. Those who don't...back into rehab.

But most of them choose correctly. So that's good. But I can never get over that itch.

You have to do this...

You can't let her down...

Please, listen to me...

But what is it?

This is almost as bad as the silence...almost.

O

Hollow had been on the ridge for three weeks now. And each day, even now, he hoped that I was just recovering my strength to escape, just a ruse to liberate myself, then D.C. From the Enclave's hands.

He know's that I'd never let the Wastelanders down. As much as I hated being called a "Messiah", I knew that I was their protecter. I couldn't let them die. I'd never live with myself.

But the way I was moving...I was chatting with the other gaurds. I was helping the "Patients". I was acting like I'd been brainwashed.

God was Hollow right.

O

The second I opened my eyes, I could tell this was a dream. I wasn't sleeping in my cot. I was on the ground, out in a completely open waste field.

It was nightime. I was so alone, afraid, without people here. Sorrow took a hold of me as I hadn't been alone since...the box. I don't want to stay here. It's cold. Like the box.

But I could feel something in the moonlight. Like, once, in another life, it gave me solace, it gave me strength and life through it's touch. He felt as is he waited all this time for it, but another side said he wasted the time.

I saw a man in the distance, running toward me. As he grew closer, I could make out details. He was wearing some sort of armor, not bulky, not light, but heavy enough to defend, but not so to wiegh him down. And a hat, blocking the sun from his eyes.

As he neared me, he skidded to halt, dust billowing upward. I coughed and hacked, covering my eyes. Once clear, I found him looking worried, ragged, injured. He spoke to me, in a familiar voice.

"You have to snap out of this!" He yelled to me. I looked at him, an eyebrow raised in wonder.

"What do you mean? I feel fine!"

He shook his head rapidly, then took a step forward. "No, no, no," He spoke, his voice higher in nervousness. "You're not fine! You're horribly injured!"

"How?" I ask the man, of whom I do not know his name. "How am I injured?"

"That's irrelevant. If you don't snap out of this trance, you, the real you, will die!"

"No...that's impossible. This is the real me. I'm going to wake up now." I said, matter-of-factly.

He began to look desperate. "Don't leave me alone! I barely see you at all!"

"Why? What can you ofer me?"

"I can save you! From who you are! If you keep like this, the real you will slip through the cracks of your mind. The man who you truly are will fall into the black. And once he falls to the depths, you'll never be the same. You'll only have dreams, dreams of a past life. A better life."

"Why? I like this me." I answer him.

"Do you want to kill someone?"

"No! Of course not!" I wanted to help my patients.

"Then if you don't remember who you need to find, then you'll kill yourself!"

"No...I can't kill someone I'm not..."

"CAN YOU EVEN HEAR ME!" He screamed, echoing across the field.

I can't answer, only nod.

"Then find her. She's your source of strength when you're weak. You'd trade everything just for a last moment with her."

"But Mrs. Ananda-"

"Forget her! I can't scream at you from the abyss you dig! Please! Find her!" As the man said that, everything began to blur, fade, and then mix.

"Wait!" I yelled for him. "Who is she?"

He smiled. "You'll know her."

I had one last question for this wise man. "Who are you!"

The dust storm silenced, though the winds still raged. Even as the world fell, he still managed to give me my last answer.

"Me? I'm the real you."

O

The morning was hell for me. Shit. I had that weird dream. So now I'm sitting at lunch, near the radio. It was broken, but I fixed it. I dunno how, but it came natural to me. Who knows?

So there are like three stations. Galaxy News Radio, Agatha's station, and the Enclave station. The other guys tell me it just started back up, for almost no reason. But I like the music. And President Eden seems like a great guy. Maybe Mrs. Ananda and he know each other...

But that doesn't matter. Not to me atleast. All I could care about it making sure Mrs. Ananda's dream come become a reality.

So that's why, to help, I'm going to be on my first mission soon. I'll find someone in need of rehailitation, and bring them back. It sounds kinda hard, but the other gaurds say that I was a real hassle back when I was wrong. Because of my size or somehting. I guess I am a lot taller than most others.

I can hardly wait, though. Something in me wants to get outside. To smell the air. To feel the sun bearing down. To roam, despite the fears. To wander. So would it hurt if I got started now? I mean, a saying goes "If you're early, you're on time. If you're on time, you're late. If you're late, then you're scewed." So I'm going to be early. I rise to my feet, turn gracefully and step casually towards the exit. I left the radio on to make it seem like I was only going to be gone for aminute.

"Hiding in plain sight" is an oxymoron that most people think is a complete and utter sentence of the idiotic. It's actually very effective. If no one thinks you're doing out of the ordinary, then people won't disturb you. It's crazy, but true.

I smile at people, wave, greet. I shake hands, high five, joke. These are my friends. I'm not doing anything wrong. If anything, I'm taking the initiative on being right.

The only trouble I meet is at the front gate. The keeper, a black man in his mid 30's sits with his legs propped up, a hunting rifle in his hands.

"Hey, buddy." He says to me, startled at me unexpected approach. "Where you goin' at this hour?"

I smile. "Just gettin' a headstart on my mission."

He ahhs and responds, "So Mrs. Ananda finally picked you from the bushel. Well, good luck my man." He finishes and lets me be on my way.

I say farewell and be on my way. He's honestly nice, despite gruffness towards the beginning of our aqquantanceship. He was one of my originial handlers, until he told Mrs. Ananda that he "Didn't want his neck snapped from that brute's slap". A rude way to put it, but I can lift alot more than everyone else. It's kinda cool, makes me feel good, but it makes the other guys a little offset. The ladie though...they just can't help but rub my arms. Makes me feel...funny, I guess. Not "ha-ha" funny, but...good funny.

I don't really care about them though. Sure, I guess from what the other guys say, they're "Hot pieces of ass" but I look at their faces more often. I dunno.

I shake the thoughts out of my head and lean down and raise my legs high. I take off at that point, crossing ground like a hound. I love this. I barely think. My feet take a life of their own, placing themsleves in the most oppurtune places for th next stride, in perfect tandem. My eyes take in mountains of information, each rock, anything moving, obstacles, so much at once.

It's exhilirating. I plant my feet on a rock, and propel myself upwards, stepping lightly as I run. When I reach the top, I vault over the peak, and on m landing, I roll and break the force. I stay crouched for a moment, and then look back at it, panting. I love my life.

Out of nowhere, or thin air, or something a figure in a black suit just launches himself at me and I go down. I don't even have time to yell before he has me in a chokehold. I struggle, but to no avail. I, insticntualy, toss my head back, in an attempt to stun and overtake my opponent. Wait...how did I do that?

Doesn't matter. The assailant expected and planned for me to do this. I slammed myself into the rock I'd just jumped over. I felt the darkness, soothing sleep, lull me. It called to me, giving my tired mind and pained body another option. I took it against my will.

O (A/N)

I'm sorry it took so long. I've been having computer issues.