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October 23rd, 2281, 8:25 a.m.

The sniper exhaled and at the moment his lungs emptied, squeezed the trigger of his rifle. A roar of sound pulsed through his ears and half an instant later the Legionary in his scope transformed into a cloud of blood and gore.

Beside the sniper a trooper whistled appreciatively. "What was that, fifteen-hundred yards?" he asked.

"Just about," the sniper answered, pulling his eye away from the scope and casting his gaze across the lake before him. Legion boats bobbed quietly in the distance, but there were no signs of movement onboard the makeshift vessels.

"Where'd you learn to shoot like that?" the trooper pressed.

"Probably the same place you did, give or take a couple years."

"I doubt it; we barely even learned how to clean a rifle before they shipped us out. It'd be nice to learn a thing or two from someone… experienced with a rifle."

The sniper raised one eyebrow and looked at the trooper quizzically. The soldier returned his gaze with a wink. Shaking his head, the man carrying the unwieldy sniper rifle returned his eye to his scope. "If you're ever in Novac, ask for Manny. He'd be happy to teach you how to handle a rifle," he quipped.

"Sounds like my kind of man," the trooper replied, turning his attention back to the lake as well. "How'd you know the Legion was going to attack from the water anyway?"

"I didn't know."

"Seemed confident enough when you told Hanlon that's what was going to happen."

"Made sense. Most of the Rangers are at the dam, leaving you troopers to defend this camp. Legion probably figured it was an easy mark."

"Guess they forgot to factor in what one man can do with a long… powerful rifle."

"I'm not supposed to be anywhere near here." The sniper replied, ignoring the innuendo.

"What do you mean by–"

"What's the word, gentlemen?" a rough voice asked from behind them.

"Four words," the sniper replied without turning around. "Dead in the water."

"Hanlon, sir!" the trooper jumped up and saluted awkwardly, fumbling with the pair of binoculars he was using to spot for the figure lying beside him.

"Easy son, those are expensive," Hanlon nodded to the trooper and moved to kneel beside the prone man. "What's the count?"

"Forty-three dead, seven wounded, looks like a little over four-hundred left," the sniper replied, "When I first started, they rowed like mad – picked off most of the Centurions at that point. They wised up quick enough."

"Now we got 'em pinned down," the trooper stated, grinning triumphantly. "They so much as peek at us and we give them a hell of a headache."

Hanlon smiled and looked pointedly at the trooper's binoculars. The soldier sheepishly knelt back down and turned his full attention to the lake. A moment of silence passed as the three watched the Legion boats bob peacefully in the water.

"That rifle could probably cut through whatever those boats are made of," Hanlon said quietly, "why don't you start shooting through them?"

"I'm in no hurry," the sniper replied. "Wind's blowing from the west, so they longer they stay crouched in the boats the farther they have to row to reach us. Letting them think the boats keep them safe also keeps them from getting desperate – lets them cook in the sun for awhile before they start moving again."

"Really think they'll keep pushing forward?" the trooper asked.

"Got nowhere else to go," Hanlon answered, meeting the trooper's eyes as the soldier glanced at him. "Lanius will cut them up himself if they turn tail and run."

"So we sit and-"

"Heads u-" the sniper interrupted before a furious blast of sound echoed from across the lake, drowning out the remainder of his warning. Caesar's main camp erupted into a billowing cloud of smoke and fire. As the trooper and Hanlon gaped at the rolling firestorm, it bloomed even larger and the thud of a second blast reverberated across the water.

Silence followed, but in the distance, Caesar's camp continued to glow – a second sun in the early morning light. A third, quieter explosion sounded closer to the dam, seeming much like an afterthought.

"Holy shit," the trooper exclaimed loudly, eyes locked on the charring land across the still water.

"Unto the fire, by fire be purged," Hanlon said under his breath. He met the trooper's questioning look and shook his head sadly. "Religious mantra from a cathedral dead now one-hundred years. Seemed fitting…"

"Legion's moving," the sniper stated, returning his gaze to his scope and firing an instant later. "Best get your troops ready, doubt I'll be dissuading them this time." He chambered another round into the weapon, and glanced at the trooper beside him. "Keep an eye out for Centurion helmets."

"How long do we have?" Hanlon asked, standing up slowly.

"Long enough," the sniper answered. Another round lanced across the water and ripped through a Legionary, embedding itself into the shoulder of the man behind him.

.

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8:52 a.m.

The dull hum of the gathered Securitron army turned into a muted howl as an onslaught of missiles raced into the cloudless sky. The explosives seemed to drift weightlessly for far too long before they plummeted, screaming to the earth below. For an instant, they vanished behind the walls of the Legate's Camp and there was silence.

The ground shuddered and the Legion fortifications vanished behind a maelstrom of fire and smoke. A wave of dust leapt out towards the Securitron army, carried by a rolling shockwave. The bellow of the explosion tore through the stunned bystanders, forcing the unprepared to momentarily lose their footing.

The relative peace of the burning encampment roared in the distance as the gathered NCR and Securitron forces fell silent. Troopers and Rangers stood stunned, unable to comprehend the devastation that had apparently just ended the brutal four-year-long conflict between them and the invaders of the east.

"Is that it?" Veronica asked, her quiet voice a stark difference from the explosion and its flaming aftermath.

"Not quite," Denn answered, turning to face the NCR troopers. "Inform General Oliver that the Legate's camp has been destroyed, and I personally will verify the death of the Legate. Now might be a good time for him to see to his wounded. If you will," the Courier finished and gestured purposefully towards the far end of the dam, politely ushering the troopers away. Hushed whispers followed the departing soldiers as they huddled together in a disjointed stupor.

Denn shook his head and turned towards the Remnants and his two companions. "Veronica and the Remnants will proceed to Caesar's camp. Cass and I will-"

"Wait a minute," Cass interrupted. "You sure Veronica should be going to the Legion's main camp?"

"Yeah, I'm not sure I could handle myself against the Legionary-Leftovers," Veronica said sardonically, winking at Cass when the redhead glowered at her.

"Oliver is many things," Denn stated quietly, drawing Cass' attention back to himself. "One of those things is a fool, but another is a dangerous man. I'd rather have Veronica behind the Securitron army then between it and the NCR."

Cass began to reply, but stopped and glanced over at the NCR Rangers. The veteran soldiers were talking to each other in earnest and appeared to be pantomiming the recent detonation. "You really think the NCR will make a move now?" she asked, frowning at the Courier.

"As the whole? Unlikely. but I'd rather be safe."

"I'll be fine – I've got these two suits to look after me!" Veronica said reassuringly, gesturing to the two armored Remnants.

"One suit, actually," one of the armored soldiers replied. The Remnant turned to the aged commander beside him. "With your permission, I'd like to accompany the Courier into the Legate's camp."

"Are you sure?" Denn asked, looking back and forth between the officer and the soldier. "We weren't able to restart your weapon-systems, so you'll be unarmed."

"Unarmed, but armored," the soldier stated, still facing his officer. "I'd like to see this through to the end, sir."

The commander stood in silence, seeming to stare through the armored soldier's helmet to the man within. "We're not Enclave anymore, Johnson," he said finally. "I've got no authority to keep you from doing what you want."

"Old habits die hard, sir, and… this is personal. If it is tactically unsound, I would have you say so."

"The battle's over," the commander said, glancing at the flaming encampment. "What are you looking for in there?"

The armored soldier stood silent for a moment. "I don't know," he answered, shaking his head.

In the distance, a structure within the Legate's camp fell loudly and a pillar of embers billowed into the sky.

"If the Courier will have you, I see no reason for you not to accompany him," the officer said finally.

Johnson nodded and turned towards the Courier.

"I would appreciate the support," Denn admitted, "but once we verify the Legate's death we're leaving. I'm not looking for another fight."

"I don't think I am either," Johnson said quietly, crossing his arms and looking back at the distant fire. The Courier turned his attention to the burning camp as well. Vernoica gave Cass a tight hug and she and the other Remnants met up with Doctor Henry, making their way through the Securitron army towards Caesar's camp. Yes Man wheeled away purposelessly, humming happily to himself. The three remaining figures stood in silence as the distant fortifications went from flaring pillars to smoldering husks.

Eventually, the Courier broke the silence. "See if you can get a bandana from the Rangers, Cass."

"Sure. Why?" Cass asked, starting to make her way to the NCR soldiers.

"Soak it in water to help with the smoke," Denn answered, turning and shrugging slightly. "I don't have another rebreather, sorry."

Cass waved him off and jogged over to the Rangers. Denn waited until she was out of earshot before glancing at the Remnant. "Remember how we met, Johnson?"

"I thought you were the Grim reaper, come to take my life at last," Johnson answered, crossing his arms and shaking his head as a low chuckle reverberated through his helmet. "You have to admit, you do look the part more often than not, 'specially when you walked into my cave."

Denn spread his arms and examined his bloodstained armor. "I guess that's true. Those Geckos outside your camp were particularly vicious, if I remember correctly."

"Weren't happy I had taken their home and weren't unhappy enough to try to take it back. Situation would make any creature feel particularly testy."

Denn nodded and turned back to his Securitron army and the Rangers. Cass appeared to have tackled one of the NCR soldiers and was showing the men gathered around her the methodologies of a proper hogtie, much to her victim's protestations. "Are you still waiting for death?" Denn asked quietly, looking back at the Remnant.

The armored soldier glanced at the Courier. "I'm not sure," he answered wearily.

"I plan to take the Mojave," Denn stated, holding up his hands as Johnson snapped his head towards him, arms uncrossing in alarm. "I know you see the NCR as a positive influence, but they're overreaching. Their society is unsustainable. In five years they'll suffer a famine. Up to twenty percent of their population will die from lack of food alone, to say nothing of the violent upheaval such a shortage will cause. I can help them stabilize, but not if the current leadership stays in power. They need a defeat – need to focus their power inward. Taking the Mojave will do the NCR more harm than good, so I will keep it from them. Nonviolently, if possible, and even if it comes to war I will take as little life as I can.

"I'm telling you this because in order to keep the NCR from rolling over the Mojave, I will need soldiers. I have the Securitrons, and their strength is substantial, but I cannot replace them quickly enough to sustain a real campaign. They need human beings backing them up – real soldiers. I need experience to train these soldiers. I need people like you, Johnson, to train them. You've seen what my Securitrons can do, and I would rather not turn their strength against the NCR. A well-trained army would serve as further deterrent. I know you think you have seen your life come and go, but there's more that you can do. Help me train the protectors of the Mojave and I will help the NCR survive – help build their future."

"Your companions, do they know?" Johnson asked, turning his head towards Cass and the gathered Rangers.

"Only Ganon," Denn answered, following the Remnants gaze. "Telling the others would have made them targets. After today, there'll be no helping that, even if they decide to stop helping me."

"It's up to them?"

"Always."

The Remnant turned back towards the Courier and appeared to take a measure of the blood-soaked man. "How long have you been planning this?"

"Two years." Denn paused as he saw Cass returning, soaked bandana in hand. "I'm not expecting an answer, and I'd appreciate it if you kept what I told you close to your chest, at least for now."

"Can do," the Remnant stated, crossing his arms and turning back the Legion camp.

"Do what?" Cass asked, shaking loose droplets of water from her hand.

"Did you really have to hogtie one of them?" Denn quipped, turning back to face the NCR Rangers that were grouped around their companion, rocking him back and forth with the toes of their boots.

"He said he would let me have a bandana for a 'little something on the side.' I figured a lesson in knots was good enough." Cass shrugged, grinning mischievously.

"Looks more like a lesson in humility," Johnson said dryly, a low chuckle reverberating from his helmet as the Rangers began to pose with their hogtied counterpart – seeming to pretend they were having their picture taken or a sculpture was being made of the scene to commemorate their victory.

"He seems like a quick learner," Cass replied as the restrained Ranger's complaints echoed across the dam. "We heading out soon?"

"We've got time," Denn answered, looking over to the Legion camp. "No reason to rush into a fire-pit like that."

"So what do we do in the meantime?"

"Wait."

Cass rolled her eyes and turned to the armored Remnant. "You're Cannibal Johnson, right?"

"Most of the time."

"Only when the hunger takes you?"

"Basically."

"I don't buy it, how'd you get the name?"

"Did something cannibalistic. The truth of it is I did cut out a raider's heart, but only took a bite out of it to mess with his buddies. They had me surrounded-"

.

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9:25 a.m.

A low gust of wind slid across scorched earth – ash and embers flowing in its wake. The skeletal structures of the Legate's camp groaned with the disturbance, having been burned to barren husks in the firestorm half an hour before.

Ruined as it was, the Legion camp still retained an eerie order. Straight rows – regimented aisles – stood as testament to the machine of war that had necessitated the formation. This pattern of buildings had been created hundreds of times before and the construction was perfected further each time the Legion made camp. Every Legionary knew their post, and at their posts they had burned. Charred skeletons littered the ground – bones seared clean of flesh. In the distance, a crow cried angrily, its meal stolen by insatiable flames.

A lone figure stood at the center of the camp – eyes locked on a tattered flag clenched in his fists. Covered in steel armor stained black with soot, the man's muted breath rumbled ceaselessly. Ash fell away from the flag, revealing the golden bull painted upon it. Suddenly, the man pulled apart the heavy cloth as if it was no more than paper, letting the ragged halves fall to the ground.

A dull thud echoed from the battered gate of the encampment. The figure turned, the frozen visage of his faceplate emotionless as another blow struck what remained of the camp's fortifications. Without a word, the man pulled his sword from the earth beside him. Flames licked the weapon's edge as he brandished it – its blade standing the length of a man's arm. Effortlessly, the sole Legion survivor hefted the blade and jogged away from the camp's entrance, heavy footfalls crunching loudly through the ashen carnage.

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For the third time, Johnson slammed his fist against the Legion-made gate and finally it gave way. A cloud of ash blew into the air, and as the heavy metal fell, the Legion camp revealed itself.

"Lord…" Cass whispered, one hand reaching up to push her bandana closer to her mouth as the stench of burnt flesh assailed her. Denn stood unmoving, his gaze locked on the decimated legion camp.

Lanius had called for the retreat when the Securitron army appeared at his flank, and Legionaries had flooded into the Legate's camp. Those unable to push their way into the mass of soldiers died at the gates, cut down by laser fire. Pressed shoulder to shoulder, the Legion had been ready to receive their next order. There they had waited – there they had died.

The land before the inner camp was a sea of corpses. There were no cries of the wounded, no shouts of survivors, only the low howl of the death-laden wind.

"Two thousand?" Johnson asked, surveying the lifeless Legion camp.

Denn nodded slightly but said nothing. Moving past the armored Remnant, he started to make his way across the charred landscape.

"No call for surrender. No measure of mercy," Johnson continued, following after the Courier. The Remnant barely raised his feet as he walked, pushing bodies to the side and providing a path for Cass to walk upon. "Total war, the Legion way."

"There were close to eight thousand Legion soldiers at the dam. Between them and the NCR, this was the largest battle since before the Great War," Denn stated, carefully moving down a slight embankment. "The total Legion strength is estimated to be much higher. Twenty thousand Legionaries hold the east, and the only thing they understand is total war.

"Caesar held the Legion together, and with his fall they will dissolve. The strongest ones will all take the name of Caesar and fight amongst themselves for land and power. I did this to dissuade what plans of revenge the surviving Legion may have. If one gathers enough strength to match what Caesar had today, they may test us again, but that will be years from now."

"Best not put any limits on the tenacity of the Legion, former or otherwise," Cass said loudly, stepping gingerly over a particularly desecrated corpse. "Four years ago the NCR thought they had rid themselves of 'em, and within months Legionnaires were back to raiding supply lines as if nothing had changed."

"Caesar didn't fall four years ago," Denn replied, reaching a second, smaller gate and standing to the side to make room for Johnson. "This time, he did."

"What makes you think he didn't make it out?" Johnson asked as he moved forward, easily pushing the smaller gate to the ground and continuing to the inner camp. "Could've made his escape during the battle."

"Caesar is his Legion," Denn responded, following after the Remnant. The three companions made their way towards the center of the camp where the largest Legion buildings resided. "He sees himself as a God – Mars made flesh. He didn't retreat, and even if he did, it would be too-"

A charred building to Johnson's left suddenly exploded with movement. A metal giant burst from the structure as if it were a gateway to another realm. Embers from the wreckage licked the man's scorched armor as he stabbed his sword down towards the startled Remnant. Johnson did his best to react to the attack, but his opponent's sword slid unerringly to the seam between the Remnant's helmet and chestplate. Landing heavily, the burned Legion solider drove his sword into Johnson's chest, causing a stream of blood to erupt from the man's armor.

As the ambusher finished his attack, a jolt of electricity rushed through his body causing his muscles to clench painfully. The Courier leapt onto the stunned Legion soldier's back, yanking his helmet to the side with one hand and preparing to drive a knife into his neck with the other.

The man released his weapon and caught Denn's strike just before it landed. Tensing and using his entire body in a single brutal movement, he flung the lithe Courier bodily through the air. With nothing supporting him, Johnson fell forward, the vicious Legion weapon still embedded in his chest.

The blackened monster straightened from his throw but fell forward again as a shotgun slug rammed against his back. Spinning around, he was stuck a second time in the center of his chest – the shot driving him back a half step.

"Shit…" Cass lamented, her 12-gauge slugs lacking the force to penetrate the tempered plate armor. Seeming to grow even larger, the Legion soldier charged at the red-haired woman, his heavy footsteps causing clouds of ash to rise from the ground. Cass continued to fire at him, and the shots slowed the giant of a man slightly, but still he pressed forward.

An instant before the soldier reached her, Cass dove to the side, spinning as she did to fire one last round against her adversaries' torso. The shot caught him midstride, and the different angle of the blow caused him to lose his balance. At that moment, the Courier rejoined the fray, leaping into the air and slamming both of his feet against the faltering giant's back. Dual explosions of sound and force erupted from his heels and the Legion soldier fell into another scorched structure.

Rolling backwards as he hit the ground, the Courier pulled a grenade out of his bandoleer. Ripping out its safety clip, Denn tossed the explosive into the building and dove to cover his prone companion.

The grenade exploded with a dull thump and the Courier immediately rose, gripping Cass' forearm and pulling her up just as quickly. Indicating to the redhead to keep an eye on the structure the Legion soldier was buried in, Denn ran to the fallen Remnant. The ash beneath Johnson was soaked with blood, and as the Courier pulled off the man's helmet, he knew that it was too late. Shaking his head angrily, Denn reached inside Johnson's armor and deactivated its generator, letting its quiet hum pass into nothingness.

"Who the fuck was that?" Cass asked, gaze still locked on the recently collapsed structure.

"Lanius," Denn answered, turning around just as the charred rubble began to shift. Shaking off ash-covered debris as a wolf would shake off loose water, Legate Lanius rose out of the cooling embers of the Legion building. A single step carried him free of the ruin, another cemented his balance on the uneven ground, and then he was charging. Completely silent beyond the sound of his armor and heavy footfalls, there was no rage in the Legate's attack, only retribution – the promise of death.

The Monster of the East was gone – he had died with his army. All that remained was the Legion's vengeance, and it would be swift.