Wanderer's Diary: Week Twelve

Day 78: Needed to get this reaction on record.

Audio file embed. Automatic transcription as follows.

[Footsteps.]

Lone Wanderer: Hey dad, I'm back!

James: Son, is that you? I'll be right down, just a minute...[Footsteps.] It's so good to see you again-

Lone Wanderer: Hey, that's great! Guess what? You're a grandfather now!

James: Wait, what?

Lone Wanderer: I said you're a grandaddy. Congratulations! Meet Marie.

James: But...Where did...You've only been out in the wasteland two and a half months!

Lone Wanderer: Yeah...I may not have been entirely honest with you about my relationship with Amata...

James: Wha-?!

Lone Wanderer: Kidding!

James: Oh. No, really now. Where did this baby come from?

Lone Wanderer: I killed her parents and the whole rest of the city she lived in. I kinda had an obligation.

James: ...Son, what happened?

Lone Wanderer: See, now that's a really long story and full of some really bad shit. I'd rather not discuss the issue until I'm feeling a little less suicidal. In the meantime, PLEASE FUCKING HELP ME! I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'M DOING!

Day 78 Part 2: Pondering.

Marie has taken well to dad. I'm glad. Maybe with his help I won't fuck this up too badly. I really need to do better than I have been so far. Because if you really look at what I've been doing so far, it's clear that I'm incredibly unqualified for this job. I may be good with kids, but anyone who actually knew me as a person would never leave their children alone around me.

Perhaps their fears would be somewhat unfounded. I've never felt a need to unleash my homicidal urges on a child before. I like to think I'm better than that. But several weeks ago I also believed that I was above cannibalism, and then I ate a man with almost no concern for the inherent hypocrisy of doing so.

Actually, no. Fuck that. The Family were a bunch of thugs who terrorised a small town's residents and the people of Andale were inbred murderers. Cannibalism was never the reason they needed to die.

I'm still concerned. Maybe I like to think now that I could never kill children, but I've yet to be put in a situation where that would be tested. Like, if a raider gang had a child with them, possibly a son or daughter of one of the other raiders brought along to help get into the family business, and they were attacking a caravan of people together, what would I do?

Hmm. Getting deep today. Best move onto less grim topics.

Project Purity! That's going to start up again soon. Tomorrow, dad's going to want my assistance in fixing things up and getting ready for activation. I've been putting off helping him for a long time, and he really wants me to be involved. He says it's just routine stuff left to be done, but anything I can do to assist will be appreciated.

After all the terrible shit I've been through, I need something mundane to get me grounded in reality again. Maybe helping to bring clean water to the wasteland will redeem me for my sins somewhat. Tomorrow's activities will be exactly what I need.

Day 79: FUCK YOU ENCLAVE.

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Day 80: I'm done.

Fuck all this shit. I've had enough. My dad's dead. Project Purity is in the hands of those power armoured bastards that call themselves the Enclave, and the entire science team and myself have been forced to flee to the Citadel and cower in the headquarters of the other power armoured bastards, the Brotherhood of Steel.

At least Marie is in good hands now.

Me though? I can't deal with this anymore. The one man in the wasteland whose authority I totally respected, the one person who I was always ashamed in the presence of, who I never wanted to disappoint, who raised me and comforted me in the hard times, and who the thought of kept me grounded in what shaky semblance of morality I still had during the middle of even my most heinous crimes, is gone.

What is even the point of me? I existed only within the context of my father. He was the standard by which I always compared myself, and all I ever wanted during vault life was to live up to his expectations of me. When he left the vault, all I wanted to do when I got outside was find him. And when I couldn't find him right away and I was forced to travel the rest of this awful place, all I wanted was to do the right thing so he'd be proud of me. I defined myself by him.

There can't be any more Lone Wanderer. Because if I live any longer, I'd live as a broken man. I'd no longer have any reason to seek redemption for my crimes or want to help anyone. I'd no longer be the great hero who brought down the villains of the wasteland. I'd be the world's best raider.

I've climbed right up to the top of the Citadel, and I intend to fling myself off of it. I sent Charon off elsewhere on an errand with Dogmeat, and the rest of the Brotherhood and the Purity team don't know I'm up here. I won't be interrupted.

Huh. It's funny. In my final moments, I read back my diary of the past several months. I wanted to see how I got to where I am today. You know what I suddenly noticed?

In neither audio recordings or my written entries, not once has my real name ever been used. No-one spoke it aloud in all my days out here. I never gave anyone my name, even my closest companions. And I never wrote it anywhere. Dad was the only one who knew it, and he's dead now.

Hmm. Maybe that's for the best. I'm almost a living legend now. I think it'd ruin the mystique somewhat if people had a name to put to my face. Maybe it's best that I die without an identity. Let me be a symbol, rather than a man.

Perhaps I can still serve some purpose after death. I can be a story to inspire. I don't think my bad side will ever really be remembered with Three Dog around. As long as I remember to password lock my Pipboy before I jump, nobody need remember that side of me.

It's been a fun ride, Capital Wasteland. Hate to say goodbye.

Actually, it hasn't. Every moment since Amata shook me awake to tell me that Jonas was dead has been an absolute fucking nightmare and I've come to despise this land and everything in it.

Fuck all of you.

I'm done.

Day 81: [ENTER NAME].

ENTRY NOT FOUND.

Day 82: [ENTER NAME].

ENTRY NOT FOUND.

Day 83: [ENTER NAME].

ENTRY NOT FOUND.

Day 84: Goddamnit.

Just to be clear, no-one interrupted my suicide attempt.

I successfully managed to take a running jump off the top of the citadel and fell several storeys. I wore no protective clothing or armour that would help me to survive the fall. I even sustained normally fatal injuries.

Except I fucking regenerated.

Without radiation no less. My previous mutation appears to have changed, because the Brotherhood told me that they found I gained an inexplicable low-level healing factor that repaired all the damage done to my body whenever I was exposed to direct sunlight.

So they just parked me in the middle of the training courtyard on a stretcher, and over the course of three days I went from on the verge of death to perfectly healthy, and I woke up today feeling like nothing fucking happened.

And there you have it. I can no longer die. And if I do, then my body will spontaneously produce some new mutation, formula or cybernetic enhancement to force me back to life anyway. So, fuck it. Why even bother fighting it? I'm going to go and use my newfound invincibility to wipe the wasteland clean. Getting pretty fucking sick of Talon Company for a start. They can go first. Soon as I get my bearings.

Sorry, Capital Wasteland, but it looks like I really am the messiah after all. I died for your sins, after three days I rose again, and now I'm off to bring about the final judgement upon those unworthy mortals.

FUCK I hate my life.