The room exploded into action as the synth boy fell dead. The remaining synths screamed, horrified, a deafening sound that sickened Wanderer to her core. She was stuck, rooted to the ground for an eternal second as if she'd taken a hit of Jet, before time resumed, almost knocking her to the bunker floor.

She stood, could feel the Courser aiming his laser pistol for her head before she even turned to meet his eyes.

"You are damaging valuable Institute property!" X4-18 snapped, teeming with righteous anger. Property, that's all the synths were to the Institute. "If you do not cease this violence, I will be forced to retaliate!"

Wanderer screamed, adrenaline pumping. She flew at the Courser with recordlike speed and dexterity. Whirling around him before he could fire the laser pistol in time, Wanderer aimed Deliverer into his skull, and pulled the trigger, destroying that little area of flesh where the Courser chip would be.

She watched as X4-18 fall dead, amazed at how little effort it took compared to the last time she'd killed a Courser. With the Railroad's help, she'd grown stronger, faster. Wanderer wanted to feel remorse, wanted to regret the necessity of killing the Courser, but she only felt smug satisfaction as what remained of the X4-18's skull collided with the ground.

Wanderer's heaving breaths for several moments masked the sound of the remaining synths whimpering behind her. She turned around slowly, gasping.

Two of the four synths were dead- judging by the smoking wound on the synth girl, she'd been killed by the Courser's laser shot presumably meant for Wanderer.

"No," she whispered, eyes teeming too much for her to see clearly. What had she done? What the hell had she been thinking? This wasn't justice, this was… madness.

The remaining synths cradled their deceased, crying, waiting, begging for Wanderer to finish the job. They'd accepted their fate with cries and whimpers but still looked upon her with fear.

Wanderer backed away slowly, unable to look away from the lives she'd destroyed. She ran, ran as far as her feet would take her, face warm with utter shame. There was no way she could report back in with Desdemona after this utter failure.


She found Father atop the old CIT building, overlooking as the morning sun rose above the destroyed Commonwealth. He had turned away so that she could only see his side profile, but he looked to be holding himself stiffly.

"Son," Wanderer said gently as she approached, the word reminding her of all the memories of his childhood that would never be hers to share with him.

"You know," he began slowly, voice gentler than she expected, "In all my years I've never set foot outside the Institute. Not once since the day they brought me here. I've never had a reason. But now…" Father sighed. "This just confirms the truth I've always known. The Commonwealth is… dead. There's no future here. The only hope for humanity lies below."

"The people are rebuilding," she begged him to see. "It may be hard to see at first glance, believe me, but hope is everywhere. Hope that dims a little more after each loved one's disappearance in the night!"

Father simply shook his head. Wanderer sighed, turning her gaze to the skyline that he was so enraptured with, disgusted by. She wondered where the two remaining synths from Bunker Hill were now.

The decay of the wildlife was shocking, it being one of the first things she'd noticed about the world around her after leaving that godforsaken Vault. It had had been heartbreaking, she'd always loved trees- Nate loved picnics, it had been the perfect combination. When she left the Vault, all that she saw was death, and destruction.

Now, she was the source of death and destruction.

There were human settlements across the Commonwealth, many flourishing under the Minutemen's vigilant protection, people standing together selflessly to help, one day at a time. There were raiders and thieves, but there would always be raiders and thieves. There had been crooks in the old world, too. In this world, they were simply more open with their deviations from civility.

"Why did you come out here, then?" she asked him. Father was silent for a minute.

"To put things in perspective, I suppose. Standing here, I'm reminded how fortunate I am that I was spared a life in this wasteland. I know that to you, I was kidnapped from that Vault. In truth, the Institute rescued me. Both of us, really... more than you could hope to know."

"Rescued, Shaun? They left me on ice… for sixty years!"

Father turned to face her, finally pulling his attention from the morning wasteland, fire in his eyes. "They did, and for good reason," he declared. "I was the perfect candidate, an infant with uncorrupted DNA. But if something were to go wrong… if I died… Well, the Institute realized a contingency plan was prudent. Another source of pre-war DNA, preferably related to their primary subject. It only made sense that my parents should fill that role. So, you were kept alive and safe within the Vault."

She heard Kellogg's sandpaper voice whispering up to her cryo tank, at least we still have the backup.

"But not your father?" she asked, tears threatening to spill. "Why keep me as the backup, but not Nate?"

"Yes, well," Father began. "Your… husband had spent many years in the military. While we had access to his service records, it was not easy to determine if he had been exposed to any unusual substances that may have altered his genetic coding. You, however, lived your entire life in Boston. The liabilities were too much for him, so he was not as important as you or I."

Wanderer's breath hitched in her throat, leering over the edge of the tall building, to the concrete hundreds of feet below. Father kept speaking, filling her heart with dread.

"I'll admit, when I had you released from Vault 111, I had no expectations that you'd survive out here, in all this. To not only do so but manage to find me… to infiltrate the Institute itself… extraordinary."

She whirled on him, tears already spilling. "It was you. You let me out."

"Yes. It was my decision," Father confirmed, no emotion in his words. "Certainly, it was no longer necessary to keep you suspended. I… well, I suppose I wanted to see what would happen. An experiment, of sorts. Would the Commonwealth corrupt you, as it had everything else? Would you even survive? Perhaps most curious to me… would you, after all this time attempt to find me?"

He chuckled then, a grim laugh at a joke that Wanderer could not see. "Now… I know the answer."

"That's all this is to you… All I am to you, just another experiment!" her voice raised in pitch as the seconds passed, as realization flowed through her. Even as her heart broke, Father's cool demeanor never showed one sign of slipping.

"No, that's not all," he said calmly. "But still, I'm glad it turned out the way it did. Soon I hope… I hope you'll understand. Everything I've done has been for the future. A future for us. A future which I hope is not in jeopardy after recent events. Bunker Hill did not go well for us. Would you care to explain what happened?"

Wanderer swallowed, throat turned dry.

"It's my fault. I wasn't able to complete the mission," she began slowly. "The synths… the battle was too chaotic. They were killed while trying to escape. The Brotherhood was, they were… relentless."

Father's expression hardened at the mention of the Brotherhood of Steel. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and Wanderer couldn't help but feel like a dithering child facing the mire of a disappointed parent.

"I gave you this opportunity to prove yourself. Particularly to prove to the Directorate that you deserve a place here. That will now be significantly harder," Father droned, his tone darkened. "There will be… accusations that you deliberately sabotaged the mission! Bunker Hill was to cement your place as an asset to the Institute. It will now only raise suspicions. And to see the Brotherhood of Steel involved in this…" Father scoffed.

"I don't know how the Brotherhood caught wind of Bunker Hill," she insisted, feeling it was the first honest thing she'd said all day. Father just shook his head, refusing to meet her eyes.

"Despite that, they should have had no way of knowing what was going on," he countered dismissively. "I will refrain from sharing the outcome with the Directorate for the moment. Things are in motion that this would only derail."

"What things?" she asked tentatively. He finally met her eyes and smiled, though the tension in his eyes was far from gone.

"Mother. It is time for you to become more involved in the future of the Institute. I'd like you to join me inside. The Directorate is meeting, and you should be there," Father offered. He extended his hand gently, and she accepted it without hesitation. It was warm, comforting.

"I've seen enough. It's time to go back in," he said as they relayed back to the Institute together.


Nearly an hour had passed that she stood in the shower, but Wanderer didn't bother to scrub the dirt from her hair or the blood from her fingernails. She stood there letting the water flow through, though she knew it would never be able to wash clean her mistakes.

She had promised to protect synths, had rescued countless many and given them the opportunity to live their lives in the wasteland, free of running from the Institute.

What if synths really were just machines, without any consciousness or feeling? Father made it sound so simple and she wanted to believe it, but the despair on the faces of those four synths was so… real. What if the Institute really had blurred the lines between machine and mortality? If so, it was a sick power that they should not have.

The water eventually ran cold, and Wanderer stepped out, changing into the blindingly white Institute jumper that she had strewn haphazardly across her bed. She was running late, Father would be upset, again. He'd asked her to join him at noon, sharp.

She found her son waiting for her outside the meeting room, looking uncharacteristically nervous.

"There you are," Father gasped when she approached. "Let's get this directorate meeting over with before we speak further. Its… ah, its important."

She followed him up the winding white staircase into the meeting room, where all the Institute division heads sat waiting. When she followed Father into the secluded room, some of the division leaders scowled, particularly Dr. Ayo and Dr. Li.

"Sir," began Dr. Ayo nervously, "Excuse me but… what exactly is Mrs. Farren doing here?"

"I will address that issue, but there are other subjects that require our attention first," Father said calmly. "The level of unrest in the commonwealth continues to rise as I'm sure we're all aware. Your report?"

Dr. Filmore gave her report to Father, clearly wanting to diffuse the tension that had built in the meeting room, while Ayo watched Wanderer curiously.

Clearly, none of them trusted her yet, and they had good reason as far as Wanderer was concerned. She was an unknown quantity to them and there was no telling what her associations were. Frankly, if she weren't Shaun's mother, she doubted she'd have a place there at all.

When Ayo spoke again, Wanderer realized she'd been tuning them out.

"Yes, uh…" Ayo gave her a suspicious look, as if they were discussing something she shouldn't be hearing. "Watchers show no additional threats beyond those previously identified. We're still monitoring the increased activity around Fort Independence, but there are no immediate signs we should be concerned."

"Watchers?" Wanderer interrupted. She hadn't heard the term used in the Institute before.

Everyone at the meeting table had turned their heads to her sharply, before searching each other's eyes. Dr. Filmore was the first to answer.

"The Institute deploys… observers to keep tabs aboveground. It helps our operations, where we cannot see the outside world ourselves," she explained slowly.

"What kind of observers?" Wanderer asked again, thinking the word was too tame for what the Watchers really were.

Spies.

"They're synthetic beings resembling crows, mother," Father interjected. "Please, Dr. Ayo, continue with your report."

Dr. Ayo continued hesitantly, reporting movements from both the Brotherhood of Steel and the Railroad, while Wanderer's head swam with the information.

Deacon had always warned her away from the birds of the Commonwealth, and while following his advice, she'd mostly chalked it up to the Railroad being overly paranoid. The Institute had eyes and ears everywhere in the Commonwealth… they were keeping tabs on her own Minutemen settlements, for God's sake.

All this time she'd thought, hoped the Railroad had some chance of actually taking down the Institute. The Railroad was a small and secretive operation, not to mention idealistic, but filled with some of the most skilled and determined people she'd ever met. She'd always known it was a long shot, but this…

The way Ayo talked about the Railroad was the way one would talk about a fly buzzing in your ear, or a passing headache that would easily subside. They didn't even seem to consider the Railroad an actual adversary. So many Railroad operatives had given their lives, and for what? The dismissal of a pompous scientist?

"Very good, thank you," Father said when Ayo finally finished reporting. "It's clear that our safety needs to be the primary concern going forward. To that end, where are we on Phase Three?"

"Uh, sir, are you sure this is the time to be discussing it? Given… well, considering all parties present?" Dr. Li asked, carefully avoiding Wanderer's eyes.

"Ah yes, that's true. Have you heard anything about Phase Three?" Father asked Wanderer, his dismissal of Dr. Li's concerns not going unnoticed.

"I… can't say I have, no." Father nodded, unsurprised.

"The project has been classified for some time. Power is, as I'm sure you've seen aboveground, a valuable commodity. I'm not talking about some abstract construct of control, I mean real tangible power. The kind that keeps the lights on. With every advance the Institute makes, our need for raw power increases. Many compromises and sacrifices have been made over the years to allow progress to continue."

Wanderer said nothing, looking around the room to see all the division heads watching her, gauging her reaction. Father continued.

"For far too long we've been dependent on others, on our surroundings. That time is over. Phase Three is simply the activation of a nuclear reactor that can provide enough power to the Institute, now and forever. It will ensure not just our survival, but our prosperity. The reactor is close to ready, but recent tests have determined we have a few tasks ahead of us. Thus, we come to Phase Three. And to how you will help."

"Sir?" Ayo asked, clearly as in the dark about this as Wanderer herself was. Ayo said nothing more, though the question in his mind was clear.

"Yes, Dr. Ayo," Father said. "Previously, we would rely on Kellogg for above ground operations, yes? Well, he is gone. While I'm not overly fond of putting my mother in harm's way, she has proven more than capable of handling herself."

Wanderer hung her head. Judging by the outcome of Bunker Hill, that wasn't as true as Father made it seem. Surely the division heads would find that out for themselves, soon enough.

"Yes, but…"

"This is not a matter for debate," Father dismissed. "Now, there is another subject that requires discussion."

Clayton spoke up for the first time since they'd called the meeting.

"Father, I don't know that this is the time…"

"Dr. Holdren. It is time, please. As I'm sure several of you are aware, I have been under Dr. Volkert's care for some time. I'm sorry, this is… difficult for me." Father breathed a sigh, and Wanderer watched as the shell of the ruthless director of the Institute cracked to reveal a vulnerable man, her son. "Our best efforts have failed. Every experimental treatment we could devise has been unsuccessful. I'm… I'm sorry to say that I am dying."

All the scientists and Wanderer exclaimed in shock.

"Everyone, please. Please! I am sorry. This is not how I wanted to tell you, but I am running out of time," Father said quietly, raising a hand to assuage them all.

"This can't be happening," Wanderer whispered. "I… I only just found you!"

Father's eyes were sorrowful. "I've had the same thought more than a few times," he said, "But we cannot let this stop us. Our work must continue. We can talk more later… right now, the future of the Institute is at stake. The Institute cannot survive without leadership. The Directorate must continue to govern with the best interests of all in mind. To that end, I am naming Monica Farren, my mother, as my successor."

For what felt like the tenth time since the meeting began, all the scientists broke out into a shocked chatter, Dr. Li and Dr. Ayo more perturbed than the rest.

"Seems a poor choice," Dr. Li mumbled, her cold dark eyes scathing Wanderer up and down.

"How can you possibly justify this?" Ayo demanded, his patience with Father finally nearing its end. "She isn't one of us… she isn't even a scientist!"

"Ignoring your borderline-insubordinate tone, I will simply say this. The Institute has enough scientists. What it needs is a leader. I believe my mother has already proven herself more than capable in that regard. This will conclude this meeting. Thank you," his tone was polite, yet firm and final. The scientists, still bewildered, stood one at a time and took their leave with a mumbled farewell.

"I had no idea," Wanderer whispered once they had all left. Father didn't meet her eyes right away, wringing his hands on the tabletop.

"I know this is… well, it's a lot to take in at once," he said to her after a long silence. "I'm sorry, mother. I hope it wasn't too presumptuous for me to put you in charge without even asking you first. But believe this… you were meant to lead the Institute." He stood finally, facing her with those sweet blue eyes that reminded her so much of Nate.

"I… I don't know if I can do this," Wanderer admitted, and it was true.

"Of course you can. You were… you are the best possible candidate. That is why I made the decision. There's no question that some of the Directorate, and the Institute at large, will need reassurances about your appointment… but enough about that, for now. I have a surprise for you, mother. A gift, as it were."

"A gift? What do you mean, a gift? How much time have we got, Shaun?"

Father placed his hands on her shoulders reassuringly.

"It's alright mother, there will be time to discuss the details. Follow me," he instructed, giving her shoulders a light squeeze and leaving the meeting room with energy in his step.

Following through the hallways, Wanderer caught a reflection of herself in the glass, and scarcely recognized the person gaping back at her. The one staring through her own eyes was a face she had not seen for months.

It was not a hardened wasteland warrior that stared back, but a worried mother, fears for her son apparent in the soft lines of her face. Her dusty blonde hair fell neatly, framing her face without flecks of blood or grease or dirt.

It was not Wanderer, the agent that met her eyes in the mirror but Monica Farren, loving wife, mother, and lawyer.

She was so distracted by the revelation that she didn't notice where Father was taking her as they crossed the Atrium into Advanced Systems, Dr. Li's laboratories.

The only thing to pull her from her reverie was the young synth Shaun, locked behind a glass barrier calmly piecing together a solid white puzzle. They stopped in front of his prison.

"Is this the surprise, Shaun?" she asked quietly, unsure why else he'd have taken her there.

"Not quite, mother," his voice sounding almost gleeful. "Just wanted to say hello."

"Hello, Father," the young Shaun greeted politely, giving Monica a nervous glance. She wondered how much of their first meeting the boy remembered, if any at all.

They entered a side lab, the sterilized white walls seemed to be closing in on Monica. In the center of the room was a lab table, a single human-shaped body lying underneath a white sheet.

She jolted at the sight, not expecting whatever they came here to see.

"Is… is it dead?" she asked quietly, to which Father smiled.

"Far from it," he said vaguely and took Monica's hand.

They approached the body slowly, and Wanderer took in the rest of the room. White and sterile, as was most of the Institute, but this room felt unnaturally bare. There was a shelf, though it was bare; the lab table in the center of the room the only indication that the Institute scientists used the room.

"Are you ready?" Father asked her with an encouraging smile. Monica just stared at her son, unsure.

Father pinched each corner of the blanket and pulled it down, tantalizingly slow revealing the figure underneath the sheet.

Her deceased husband's face stared back up at her, very much alive and healthy, and blinked slowly.