The expedition was going interestingly so far over the last several weeks. The journey north had been long, but the journey into this 'Commonwealth' was perilous at every turn. Kevan had seen many things he had never thought he would during these days. He had fought in and witnessed multiple campaigns, from the War of the Ninepenny Kings to Balon Greyjoy's rebellion. None were anything like this though.

The first part of the wasteland they saw was the southern swampy regions of the east, which were full of enormous mosquitos and strange things like flying manticores, that the locals referred to as 'Stingwings', which would take more crossbow rounds to kill than an aurochs due to their armour. Traders had two-headed cows and yet were flabbergasted at the sight of horses. Those lone troops sent deep into the swamps almost never came back, and those that did spoke of monstrous creatures in the water. They attempted to go north west to avoid these locations, going through ruins and avoiding hails of metal fired by locals around one of the bunkers.

They had been around the edges the nightmarish place known as the 'Glowing Sea' by locals. The winds there were more fierce than Storm's End, and burned to the touch. The creatures there were ferocious and terrifying too, but the nastiest thing there was a deadly killer that could strike without warning or sight, perhaps worse than Greyscale. He had lost over three dozen men and multiple horses to this killer, with several survivors having their skin and hair permanently scarred, transformed into hideous beings. A hairless horse was present among those afflicted too. They no longer suffered from the killer, but in fact energised by it. And some in this state lost their minds and became as beasts, having to be put down like limp horses. What horrible things!, he thought. All this had only come from the outskirts; only a few even attempted to go further, and none returned.

One of these men was supposedly Beric Dondarrion of Blackhaven, with some reports claiming he had died from this invisible poison, while others claiming he had changed into one of these degenerates, with assistance from that drunken Red priest. They can't both be right, he was easily one of the most dangerous campaigns that he had ever fought in, and they hadn't even got into a war situation yet!

The environment was full of monstrous creatures and the invisible killer, with a number of hostile people here and there as well, basic savages who fought with fire tubes and madness. Those friendly enough to be negotiated with, themselves mere travellers, paid with strange currencies which made trading difficult outside set up zones that they encountered later. These 'bottlecaps' had no parallel in Westeros and could be acquired from using the bottles of some of the local drinks. Kevan's time among these people was informative, but he understood so little of what was happening.

The journey east towards the coast of the Vale resulted in a less harsh environment, but no less harsh monsters. And the people's were a definite mix. Some were simple settlers out to trade, like smallfolk, but far more able to defend themselves, with these weapons that fired shrapnel at great speeds beyond anything natural, certainly necessary for such a harsh land. These were much more powerful than any crossbows in Westeros, and with better range too. He had sent the Mountain that Rides to convince the locals, even in his own depraved way to have some access to these weapons and directions about important places. It took time to acquire these, and not without losses from the savages. Even so, only a few in the expedition would be allowed these 'guns', himself included. He could see the mountain of a man with some locals in a cage, with his men teasing them in their captivity. Another had some of the degenerates, though most at least looked human from a distance.

He didn't want to think how many of the locals had been harassed by Clegane's and Hoat's bands of savages, let alone on top of the native raiders.

Raiders, despite their relatively poor armour had deadly weapons and fierce determination, even if in an animalistic form. They organised in gangs around local ruined buildings, though they would often compete with one another over resources and territory, particularly these 'Chems' that would change the minds of the users. Kevan had done what he could to prevent such use among his soldiers, but some was certainly seeping into the more experimental members of the force. Tywin may have wanted to use such performance enhancers to enable better soldiers and workers, but he was not Tywin, and he hesitated to provide any samples back to Casterly Rock for the Maesters to analyse. The deserter had been proof of that.

Three days past, a man had been found addicted to this form of 'psycho' having become viciously hostile to anyone who approached. One day, he lashed out and attacked his peers, killing four with a dagger, moving at great speed, though with no discipline. From this point, he escaped from the camp and was not heard from again as of now. Perhaps he had joined those raiders. Someone should bring him to justice! He had sent a group of ten after the man, but no word came back. The raiders had won this time.

Another race besides the degenerates and raiders were bands of green savages of great strength and power, with great hounds too. They owned deadly weapons and were weapons themselves, as their strength and power were superhuman by all means. Even a normal one was similar in height to Gregor Clegane, and even bulkier too, with thick leathery skin and animalistic rage; their strength would be life threatening. They had lost dozens of men at the peripheries to such abominations, attacking relentlessly and in rare occasions, even eating men alive!

Fortunately, they were dumb brutes and could be lead off by simple bait or by help from locals wearing strange hats, who were apparently used to such beasts. Together with numbers and well aimed attacks, they had managed to repel several of the attacks by the green men, though only one had been successfully killed by the expedition's arrows. The others fell from the local 'Minutemen' whose job was to protect the common people. Such people could not be tolerated in Westeros proper, Tywin had told him, or else there would be chaos. Nevertheleds, Kevan was proud of his expedition that they had managed to defend from monsters.

Gregor and his men had distracted the beast while Kevans archers fired arrows on its back and joints, allowing the Mountain that Rides to land the fatal blows necessary on this unarmoured fool. It only had a wooden board to defend itself which was not useful, along with some strange balls that could explode at will, causing many battlefield injuries. The scouts had done their best, but many did not make it. The higher ranking green men had got away however, and would certainly plot revenge like the Mountain clans of the Vale. The others though had dropped some of these weapons and armour, which his scouts were mining through and discovering the properties of. Kevan himself had stayed behind for this attack, and rightfully so, to show that he cared for his soldiers on at least a numeric level.

In terms of non humanoid creatures, giant insects and manticores had been terrifying threats, along with hairless bears, two headed deer, three eyed vultures, enormous shellfish that could absorb sword blows to their hides, dog sized hairless rats, hairless feral dogs, the occasional horror of nature, and demons.

Gods, the demons were horrifying. Nine foot tall reptilian creatures with horns like a ram and claws that could cut through even the toughest armour. Even Gregor and his men steered clear of the demons, though some of Hoat's men foolishly tried to toy with them. He had heard via Raven of reports of the crab monsters, deer and insects spreading into the Riverlands, the Bite and the Bay of Crabs, along with the invisible killer. It seems they were spreading across the Realm and that they were here to stay. The realm was sure to suffer.

The new crops were of strange tastes as well, these tomatoes and corn were interesting, as were the berries that Gregor and his men extracted from The Slog. The crops grew well in certain areas, though it seemed they were used to far shorter seasons than those in Westeros. This may hinder efforts to grow them elsewhere in the long term. But there were more important matters to attend to now. For now they had reached the centre of the city.

"My lord," his squire came up. "We've caught sight of the great towers of 'Boston', milord. Would you wish us to go there and secure them? They appear bigger than even the Tower of the Hand, and more abundant than any castle." It was true, as even from this distance, the towers of brown, red, white and silver were taller than anything he had ever seen. Perhaps even taller than the Wall for a few of them. Scouts ahead had not returned back either, so this too must have been a dangerous place.

Kevan hesitated and gave an answer. "We camp near the edges and we will settle for the knight before any action is taken. After all, it's necessary to-" he could hear a buzzing noise quite loudly now, but it seemed far away. It was getting louder and the men were confused. Then they saw them.

Huge winged creatures, of a silver complexion that appeared to resemble some colossal dragonfly of sorts, were hovering towards the edge of the party. The men were for the most part terrified. The metal behemoths approached and landed with substantial speed at a distance, though even here, they were loud. For several moments, they stood there in awe at the creatures.

On the distance, an even more spectacular sight was seen as a much more massive object approached from above, it was a dull yellow colour with silver edges and was of an unbelievable size. It must have been more than five hundred feet long, perhaps even six hundred, and seventy feet tall- even Balerion the Black Dread had not reached such a size! Some men shouted "dragons!", while others simply screamed "run for your lives," and others still wheezed or said prayers to whatever God they worshipped. To Kevan, he was simply dumbfounded. The beings resembled dragonflies as they hovered down, though far louder and seemingly made of metal. The eyes were shiny and transparent like glass, and there was only one on each of them. As they landed, they had not legs, but wheels like a cart. These could hardly be different from dragons!

Noises rocked the soldiers as they looked on. The sellswords too were getting restless, picking up stones and threatening the newcomers ahead. A fine way to get themselves killed! But then, they were only hired men, and monstrous ones at that. Then the doors open. These weren't living things at all, but vessels! Like ships of the air!

Out of it stepped some of the strangest Knights Kevan ever saw. They had huge silver armour covering their entire bodies, even their joints, while their visors had what seemed to be glass, eliminating all possible weak spots. Protocols were called out by the soldiers as the exited the sky-vehicles and grouped into formation, showing great discipline in their command structure.

The men and women by their voices all seemed to be not to tall but very robust as a result of their tough armour, which looked far more efficient than anything the Westerosi had. Between them came a man in a suit without his helmet, but a young and eager appearance to him.

"Greetings, outlanders." The man said. "I am Paladin Danse of the Brotherhood of Steel. Ever since the Disturbance, we've heard reports of leaving the former continent of the United States of America and finding ourselves in a new land, and it's of profound impact to see this is real." It was clear they were just as surprised as himself at the moving of world's, though they were doubtlessly more informed. "Scouts have moved out for hundreds of miles and only seen new lands outside of Boston, so it seems fitting that your people wished to do the same. Of course, an army of your size in our territory is threatening despite your low level of technology. Why have you come here?" His Knights pointed their weapons towards him and the expedition's other commanders, in a threatening manner. Danse raised a hand and they lowered theirs.

Kevan spoke up. "I am Lord Kevan of House Lannister, from Casterly Rock under my brothers orders, and I have been sent on royal decree to scout this new territory for military threats. So far, I have seen many things I never thought I would see, things of extreme danger and hostility, that if let loose, could doom our lands. I hope you are not such beings, I presume?"

"We're not raiders by any means. We have aim to rid the Commomwealth and the continent of our origin from the savages of supermutants, raiders and from the technologically foolish. The misuse of it lead to our world being destroyed, so we do not want yours to follow the same fate. But now an even bigger threat is ahold of us than raiders, mutants or even the radioactive bombs- the synths!"

People seemed puzzled at the mentioning of 'synths' and 'mutants', looking around to see if anyone knew. A foot soldier hesitantly put his hand up, possibly fearing the wrath of his superiors. "What are these things you speak of, milord? We've never heard anything like this!"

Others nodded, mumbling amongst themselves, and even Kevan seemed puzzled on the mention of these words. He said "indeed, what are these things you mention?"

This 'Danse' began. "Both of these things I mentioned are blights of human technology without proper supervision and with the wrong intentions. The withered ghouls are a result of the radiation changing them into those ugly things, with most losing their minds and being like beasts. The mutants came from the FEV vats designed to make a better breed of soldier with total disregard for ethics, but were misused by a madmen to try and take over the planet, but fortunately he was foiled by a man lost to the sands of history." This reminded Kevan of the stories his father had once told him of the Long Night and the Last Hero who had supposedly saved the world.

"We're grateful he's dead, or else we'd all have become mutants by now. The worst by far of all these threats are the synths of course. Robots, that is, metal contraptions created to help men in their tasks, designed to resemble humans on every way, but stronger, faster and deadlier, with many completely loyal to the cancerous organisation that is the Institute. They replace humans in the night, killing them and using a synth duplicate to take their place and monitor us for their own malevolent purposes. Some have gained free will and roam unchecked as monstrous raiders and false humans. Free or not, they're abominations that need destruction and containment. Perhaps some of your own men have been replaced, so you need to be wary!"

Men looked around at their partners to see if anyone was behaving suspiciously, with wary looks in their eyes. Kevan himself looked at his squire and vice versa to see anything that had changed. They gave mutual looks of suspicion, followed by sighs of relief, as neither appeared to have had any changing characteristics. If this is what we're up against, then we can't afford to take prisoners, he thought. He heard a scuffle and saw his men fighting about two hundred feet to his north west. He got off his mount and went over, fuming at such insubordination.

"What is the meaning of this?" He called as his men fought.

"We found a synth, we think!" One of the soldiers shouted as they held down another, who was kicking and screaming and biting to get his way out.

"I'm not a monster! I have a wife and family in Flea Bottom! Let me go!" The man was bought forward.

Danse approached. "What's your name?"

"Lesley of Flea Bottom. I swear by the old gods and the new that I'm not one of your 'synths'. Please let me out."

Danse handed him a small weapon. It was a smaller version of the red fire shooting weapons the Brotherhood Knights carried, but with different colours and a blue light around it. He simply said "use it as you wish."

Without thinking, this Lesley grabbed it and tried to fire it at the Knights, despite having never seen one before, supposedly. Those men loyal to him staggered back or were blasted in the shoulder, with the victim lashing out in pain at the hole in his shoulder. Kevan marvelled at the change in tone and ability that he had. The Knights tolerated for a few seconds before shooting their red thunder and reducing him to ash, except for his head. Everyone was horrified.

A metal component fell out of Lesley's neck where his spine should have been. He must have been a synth!

"This is what you're up against, Westerosi! They number in the hundreds and thousands and have replaced people around our land for years, and they are starting to replace yours already. Unless we can stop them together, the Commonwealth, Westeros and even beyond will be under their control. Is that what you want?"

Men all around the expedition shook their heads, and shouted and swore negatives at this invisible threat. The sellswords looked at each other, as if looking the other down for details that were out of place. It was true. Kevans own men were being replaced with mechanical monsters, the Institute's monitoring had been tracking them and obtaining information. They would need to be wary. This Institute could threaten the crown and take everything under their shadowy influence. And renegade synths? They could be nearly as dangerous for all he knew. There would be no chances against these abominations.

Kevan spoke up now. "No, we don't want ourselves or our wives and children replaced. We will help you reclaim our humanity. I will need to send a Raven to Kings Landing to let my brother and the Small Council know about this."

Then the paladin looked up. "That won't be necessary, Lord Kevan. We can take you and a few dozen soldiers in the Vertibird squad at once, so you can go directly to your capital. But first, we'd like you to meet our supreme Elder, Arthur Maxson, our leader who will help us cooperate in this alliance." The Vertibirds opened up and soldiers started moving into the vehicles and they were taking off. Kevan went with Danse towards one of the tagged 'Vertibird', with a unique red stripe on it. Danse let him sit down first, and showed him visually how to fasten a belt around him for take-off. He took in a deep breath of air and he looked out as the vehicle began to take off and hover upwards, soon going towards the "Prydwen", the grandest of all these vehicles up in the sky. As he looked around, the metal fliers entered the air like migrating geese. If this was the future of man, he looked forward to it.

So begins a new age, he thought.