Notes: I do not own Fallout 3 or any of it's affiliates. This is hardly original, but it's really fun for me!
I wanted to prolong the wonderousness of updating and writing this story. Well... not really writing this story. It was all pre-written, so all I had to do was edit my chapters and post them twice a week. But this part was originally attached to the last chapter, and I didn't want it to end, even though I said "fuck it," and updated before Monday. It's over. Besides, I've got a teeny thirteen reviews, so that must mean.. 8 of you are awaiting my chapters. Traffic says there's 200+ hits every update, but I think someone's hacking it to make me feel better.
But, thanks to those of you special readers for joining in, and I hoped you enjoyed my novelization of Fallout 3.
Chapter Fourteen: Legend of the Wasteland
Amata led her string of followers through the ruins of Springvale, her eyes darting side to side and her brow sweating copiously. Everyone behind her grabbed the arm of the person in front of them, letting Amata lead them across the dangerous and barren Wasteland. They had just left the Vault for the first time, and each and every one of them was gripped with fear. The sights, the sounds, the feelings—they were all foreign entities that had never touched them down in the Vault. It was hard to imagine life surrounded in these elements all the time. Oh, Ana, Amata thought reluctantly, how do you survive in a place like this?
"Hey," Freddie Gomez interjected, letting go of Christine Kendal's arm and pointing to the ground just beside Amata, "what's that?"
They all snapped their heads in the direction of Freddie's gesture, feeling fear before they even saw the subject. Amata's brow knitted in curiosity, and she slowly stepped away from Butch's firm grip, shoving him slightly when he whimpered and tried to cling to her harder. She knelt down beside the thing, and nudged it with a hand. It was about the size of a skull, and it had several antennae protruding from its front and extending back. A grill lined the front of its "face", and she tilted the thing towards the light (which drew a mutter of fear from everyone behind her) and peered in between the slits. Amata could barely make out a camera lens, but it was shattered down the middle.
"Whatever it was," Amata said, dropping the thing and resuming her position in front of Butch, "it's not functional anymore."
She continued to lead them cautiously through the town, and as they reached the end, they saw a sign with MEGATON sprawled across it in large yellow letters. "Hey, hey! That's the town mentioned on the Overseer's terminal, right, Amata?"
"Yeah," she replied to Christine without looking back, "it is."
They followed the cracked and incomplete road up the hill of which the sign indicated, and when they reached the top, everyone seemed to gasp out loud in amazement. Megaton stood tall in the distance, its tall walls invoking feelings of intimidation and fear in everyone but Amata. "Look, let's just go back," Butch whined, tugging on Amata's sleeve, "it's fucking dangerous out here!"
"Then maybe Megaton will be willing to help," Amata said forcefully, "if Ana could do this, so can we."
Everyone fell silent. They knew of Amata's vehement vendetta against her old friend, and they knew that every time Amata brought her up, it meant she was annoyed, angry, and short on patience. They all shut up after that, and followed Amata reluctantly down the hill, refusing to let go of the person's arm in front of them.
After climbing the short valley toward the town, Amata flinched backward in surprise, throwing her arms out and backing away from the large animal and the two people, trying to protect her charge. All of the Vault dwellers yelped, cowering behind Amata as she glared down the Wastelanders menacingly. "Back off," she warned with venom, "don't try anything stupid."
One man, who wore a dirtied yellow jump suit, eyed Amata up and down with a queer eye. Suddenly, she saw his expression change, and he shifted the ball cap on his head, smiling and moving his body towards her in a friendly expression. "Hey, you're from Vault 101, too?" he said cheerfully, looking to his female companion (who wore mean looking armour and an assault riffle on her back), "they're from the same Vault that girl is!"
At this statement, everyone seemed to stand just a bit taller, and Amata's arms lowered slightly; they meant no harm. She looked between the two people in front of her with the same defensive expression on her face, trying to figure them out. "Ana was here?"
"If that's her name, yeah," the man replied, motioning to Megaton, "that girl is a saint. Wouldn't believe what she's done for Megaton, for the Wasteland, even. If you're looking for her, though, she's long gone. Hasn't shown her face around here since she disarmed the atomic bomb."
"What?" Mr. Brotch said, exasperated, "my student disarmed an atomic bomb?"
"That and more," the man said, motioning over his shoulder to the east, "she fixed the broadcast signal for Galaxy News Radio, and now the entire Capital Wasteland can hear his voice for miles. Unbelievable woman, she is."
"Wow..." Paul muttered under his breath, shaking his head in utter disbelief. Him and Ana had always been intellectual rivals, if not misunderstood childhood rivals, and the fact that she repaired a radio signal before he could bogged him.
Amata ignored all of these things, however, and stepped forward as she interjected the man. "Listen, we just want to get into Megaton, find some protection, we don't want any trouble."
"...right," the man said, giving her the same odd look, "well, I'm sure as hell not stopping you, go ahead, the gate's wide open, for God's sake."
Amata looked to the entrance, and found that it was indeed wide open. A Protectron stood at the front, spewing off odd messages and rotating back and forth, scanning for hostile targets. "HOWDY, PARTNER...."
Amata was finding her entire ordeal a bit too surreal, and she shook her head again, but this time at herself. She squinted her eyes shut, and nodded towards the man. "Thanks."
"Hey, no problem," he said, but his words seemed tainted with sarcasm. "Well, if you need anything, this caravan sells weapons. We usually make our rounds weekly, so feel free to seek us out and trade when you're ready."
"Will do!" Butch said a little too enthusiastically, waving to the man in the jumpsuit and latching on to Amata's suit as she walked on towards the town. As the string of people passed the caravan, they all waved to the couple and their strange, large, red animal.
Harith watched after them as they clambered inside the gates of Megaton. "That girl came from the same Vault they did?" he asked rhetorically, turning to his bodyguard. The woman shrugged, scoffing at their trail. "No fuckin' way. That girl was a lot more swift than those bunch."
"Well, it takes the right person to step out, I guess," the body guard replied, and leaned up against the Brahmin lazily, pulling a smoke from her pocket.
As the group stepped into the town, Mr. Brotch slid the huge door closed behind them, and they stood clumped together in unease, looking over the town. It was dirty, so dirty in comparison to how the Vault used to be, and the way it was constructed out of scrap metal left them all feeling a bit more out of their element. Amata scanned the buildings from left to right, then peered down the crater. If Ana was here, she wasn't sure what she'd do.
She heard someone's footsteps scuttle to a stop in the dirt to her right, and everyone turned their heads in the direction of the noise. A tall, dark man in a long cloak and a cowboy hat looked them over with the same face as the caravan merchant had just outside the town. "You all startin' a trend now, or somethin'?"
Amata didn't quite understand the implications of his question, so she continued with the speech she had rehearsed since the day they all decided to leave the Vault, since the night they narrowly avoided certain death by her father's old guards. "Sir, my name is Amata, and I am the Overseer of Vault 101. We were forced from our home due to civil conflict, and we're in search of refuge. Could you offer us any protection or shelter?"
The man didn't reply, but he scratched his bushy beard while looking them over again. "You friends with that lone wanderer from Vault 101?"
Amata felt herself losing patience by the second; the more she heard of Ana, the more she wanted to scream. "You could say that."
"Well, I suppose I could trust you in my town. To answer your question, though, no. I don't have any room for you. This town is packed as it is. Feel free to stay as long as you like, but I've got no shelter for ya, sorry."
Amata clenched her fists and turned away, her eyes shutting to try and suppress the anger. She really screwed this one up. How was she going to lead everyone to safety if there was no safety left in the Wasteland?"
The dark man seemed to see Amata's distress, and he sighed, shifting his boots. "You know what, I don't have a bed for each of ya, but I have the deed to one house I could give you. I was hopin' to hand it over to Miss Vault 101 herself, but she never came back, like she said she wouldn't."
Amata whipped herself around to the man, then stepped towards him, her face lighting up with hope. "You would let us take the house?"
"Yeah, why not. It's been empty for a few months now, and I've been reluctant to give it up, but... if any of you are half as decent as she was, then I know you deserve it. On her behalf, anyway."
"Oh, thank you, Mr...?"
"Lucas Simms," he replied, pulling a slip of paper and a key from his pocket and handing it to Amata. "This is all I can offer you, though. If you want food, you're gonna have to get caps for that. If you're just as clueless as that other girl was when she first got here, that means you're gonna have to find your own work. I'd ask around town to see if anyone's lookin'."
"Thank you, Mr. Simms."
"Yeah," he muttered, nodding wearily and stepping away from the group. They watched him go, and he muttered something under his breath, pointing up to the building on the immediate left. Everyone looked to the building, and Amata gripped the key in her fingers.
They approached the house cautiously, stepping over the water pipe that ran down the slope and finding their way clumsily to the stairs. After a moment of studying, Amata slipped the key into the lock, turning it gently (for if she broke the key trying to open their only source of refuge, she would surely explode into an unparalleled fit of rage). The door clicked open, and the flimsy door opened slowly on its hinge, offering passage to the former residents of Vault 101. Amata stepped inside, looking around the shabby house. A few lockers and tables stood in the barren room, and sunlight seeped through shallow points in the walls. The group followed Amata in, and Christine sighed lamely. "Well, at least it's something," she offered, lifting her hands and slapping them against her thighs in a sign on defeat. Amata nodded, looking up the stairs. There were two rooms up there. Looking straight again, she could see shelves lining the walls, leading to a room around the bend which was presumably a kitchen.
"All right," she declared, "we should be fine here. I'm going into town to get some information. We meet back here at nine o'clock tonight and get our plans together, figure out what we're going to do from here."
"Hey, hey," Butch interjected, waving a hand in the air at Amata, "who said you got to call the shots? We ain't in the Vault no more, little sister, you ain't the Overseer out here."
"Fine," she retorted, "if you're so Waste smart, do whatever you want. But this is my house, as I hold the deed, so if you don't like the rules we play by, then you can get lost."
"Ah, up yours, princess," Butch replied, then left the house, "I'll be back whenever."
As he disappeared into the town, Amata nodded. "Now that that's out of the way, are we all agreed?" Everyone nodded. "Good. Do what you like until nine, but I suggest you spend that time trying to find... oh, what's that called...?"
"Caps."
"Yes, currency... whatever constitutes a cap." Amata nodded to herself, then scanned the deed and the house key into her Pip-Boy. "I'll see you all later, then."
Amata reluctantly stepped out into the harsh sun again, and made her way around the deck of the house towards the stairs that led to the bottom of the crater. The Brass Lantern was on her right at the bottom of the hill, while a clinic stood to the left. When she rounded the bar, she could see a huge atomic bomb sitting in a puddle of water, while a few people stood around it, their heads bowed and mumbling quietly to themselves. Amata eyed them curiously, when she turned and bumped into a body. She recoiled immediately, balling her fists as if prepared to fight. Her eyes looked up to the figure, slightly silhouetted by sunlight, and he peered down at her, taking a swig of some sort of odd amber liquid.
"For all that's fucking holy," the man growled in a deep, rough voice. "More Vault assholes. You motherfuckers just pop up out of the ground like mole rats, you know that? Fucking Christ...."
The man walked away, barking to himself angrily and drinking his foul drink. Amata watched him go, then straightened, brushing off the incident. When she turned her attention to the front again, she spotted a set of stairs leading up. A small sign that read Moriarty's Saloon was attached to a rusted iron pole beside the stairs, and Amata decided to start there. She climbed the stairs with laboured steps, then rounded her way across the walkways above towards the saloon.
It was darker, more damp, and unpleasantly warm inside the bar. A few Wastelanders sat at the tables scattered around the bar floor. Amata eyed the entire place, noticing the vacant rooms that lined the walls on the open second floor. In front of her was a bar counter, and a group of people were huddled over on their stools, drinking from Nuka-Cola glasses and old beer bottles. With hesitant steps, Amata approached the bar, and sat down on the stool nearest to the functioning radio. A pre-war jingle was playing on the small device, and Amata watched it curiously, trying to decipher the song. She knew she heard it on some old holotape before, she just couldn't remember the title—
"Hey, another Vaultie," a man said from behind the counter. Amata jumped slightly at the sound; the voice was raspy, like the bearer had had a cold for several years of his life. She turned her head towards the man, and yelped, jumping back off the stool. A man's face—or what used to be a man's face—had leaned in towards her. His skin was rotten looking and falling off in certain places on his body, while his hair only remained in patches on top of his head. To top off his terrifying features, his nose was no longer present, and his eyes were clouded over, like he had already died. The man seemed to deflate slightly when Amata called out, and a few people at the bar chuckled. He leaned back from the bar, and took his eyes away, wiping down the counter top.
The look on his deadened face told Amata that she had truly hurt his feelings. He looked like a zombie, but from his emotional reaction to her exuberant response, she could tell that he was truly just an unfortunate human deep down inside. Calming herself, Amata let out a breath, and took her place back on the stool. "Sorry," she whispered to him, trying not to let the other people at the bar over hear, "you just caught me off guard."
"So, you just crawled out today?" he concluded, flicking his eyes at her while he picked up a glass and started to wipe it down with the same rag. Amata felt a little disgusted at this, but she hid her feelings this time.
"Yes, we just left." Apparently he was familiar with people leaving the nearby Vault. She watched him work away at cleaning, and listened to the sounds of the song. After a moment, Amata piped up again. "You said 'another Vaultie'," she leaned forward on her elbows and forced herself to peer into the horrific face of the bartender, "does that mean Ana was here, too?"
"Short black hair, nice blue eyes?" Amata nodded. "Yeah, she was here. Great kid, that one. I didn't know her name was Ana, though. Everyone's been calling her Miss Vault 101 around here."
"I've heard," Amata said, looking to her hands. She really didn't want to talk about Ana, but she needed to know where she was so that she could avoid her. The more she heard, though, the more she was certain Ana was a Wasteland Legend, and was impossible to avoid.
"Three Dog talks about her on the radio from time to time, and... man, I wish I could just get out there and live a life like hers, you know? Fighting the Good Fight, making a change... but I'm sorta stuck here. Moriarty's never letting me out."
Amata had no clue what he was talking about, but she understood his turmoil by the sound of his voice. "I'm sorry to hear that." She let silence surround them and clear away the saddened air before asking: "I was wondering, do you know where I could find a job, earn some caps?"
"Oh, well, it depends on where your talents lie," he said, opening a bottle of beer and plopping it down in front of a man two stools down from Amata, sliding the caps into his flesh ridden hand. "You could always ask Walter for work at the water processing plant, or you could ask Moira to do her research if you're into exploring... you could also find work with Moriarty, but I wouldn't recommend it; you look like a sweet kid, and he'd just break ya.
"Let's see," he continued, turning down the volume slightly on the radio and humming to himself. "Other than that, you're out of luck inside Megaton, you'd have to go look to trade outside in the Wastes if you can't find anything here."
"Don't be so hasty, Gob," a woman said from behind Amata, and she looked over her shoulder to the woman slinking up behind her. She was pretty, though a little dirty, and she had such bright red hair. Amata noticed herself staring, and she blushed slightly as the woman put a hand on her shoulder. "I could always use an apprentice."
"Nova," the bartender, presumably Gob, said in a cautious voice, "don't do that...."
"Apprentice for what?" Amata asked, peering up into Nova's face. She seemed like a friendly enough person, but she took the bartender's tone as a precaution.
"Oh, all sorts of fun things," she whispered, bending over. Amata caught a whiff of something foul on her breath, and recoiled. It smelled like sour paste, and Amata turned her head to avoid the smell. Suddenly, she wasn't so keen in finding work with Nova.
Nova took this gesture from Amata as a resounding "no". "Well, if you ever change your mind, honey," Nova said, straightening, "drop on by, I'm always waiting."
"Sure thing," Amata replied with distaste, leaning back on the counter towards Gob. "What was that smell?" she asked him quietly.
"I don't think you want to know," he said, his raspy voice lowering to a deep and honest tone. Amata took his word for it.
The song on the radio ended, then there was silence. Gob stopped wiping down his glass, and he looked to the radio with annoyance, banging on the relic. "No, not again! Stupid piece of—"
Suddenly, a man's voice filtered through, and from the first syllable, Amata could feel the sadness seeping through the speakers. Everyone's head turned, and Gob turned a dial, increasing the volume. From the reactions on everyone's faces, Amata could tell that something unusual was happening. She listened with them quietly.
"Children... agh, fuck it. Everyone who's listening right now, and has been listening for so long... I... I've never been at such a loss. For five years, I've been holed up in Galaxy News Radio, bringing you the news of the Wasteland that I could offer. You've stuck with me through thick and thin, and from the ratings, I know more and more of you have been tuning in. So... most of you will know who I'm talking about when I mention 'Miss Vault 101'."
Gob smiled slightly, leaning on the counter and eying the radio in admiration. Everyone at the bar muttered in praise, and turned themselves toward the radio, but Amata flexed her jaw and looked down. How could Ana be their hero and be her personal harbinger of pain at the same time?
"All of you know the story thus far; the kid saved Megaton, then saved Galaxy News Radio, and then she finally found her dad. Well... this is where the story really gets tragic."
Amata could feel the instant change in the room's air, and she felt her own heart sink in her chest. She looked toward the radio with the entire bar, her eyes growing wider and her brow furrowing tighter.
"Turns out, that cool cat James, her dad, had restarted this thing called 'Project Purity', which was supposed to clean all the irradiated water in the Wastes. Sounds like bogus, right? Well, they got that machine close to up and running again. They were almost done, when the Enclave swooped in. In the midst of all the fighting, the kid's dad was killed."
A few people hissed in the bar, and Amata felt a pain in her chest. Was it her heart breaking? Ana's dad had died... the sudden change in the girl's demeanor became apparent, and Amata bowed her head. If she had known... but, still, did it give Ana the right to take her father away from her, too?
"She never gave in, though—she led Rivet City's own Doctor Li to safety with her team to the Citadel, where Three Dog's old pals from the Brotherhood house themselves. After the Enclave took over her dad's old machine, the fighting never stopped. Turns out, in the mean time, Miss Vault 101 took down the Enclave single handedly." Everyone in the bar murmured in shock. "I know, right? I can't make this shit up!
"And so, my friends, my fellow Wastelanders... I rejoice in telling you that Miss Vault 101 helped save her dad's work with the Brotherhood, and she activated it. That's right; there's no more irradiated water in the Wasteland, it's clean, it's safe for humans."
"What?" Gob said in disbelief, and the murmurs around the counter got louder, too. Amata's jaw dropped open slightly in shock—she couldn't believe it herself. My God, Ana...
"But... I regret to inform you," Three Dog continued, "that she died doing it."
The murmurs in the bar stopped. The words struck Amata immediately, but they didn't sink in right away. After a moment of silence on the radio, Amata shot up from her stool, and gripped the radio, as if it were Three Dog himself. Her eyes bugged and her hands shook. What?
"When I said that kid was the last hope we had, that she was the one that would pull us through... I meant it. I never thought it would come to this..." There was a pause, and his voice seemed like it wavered slightly. "Never heard her name, either. I'm sure someone out there knows...."
"No," Amata said, shaking the radio slightly, "no...."
No one said anything, but Amata was sure they were all staring at her. "NO!"
"What is all this bloody noise?" a man called form behind the bar, coming out of a room from behind Gob. Everyone averted their gaze toward the counter as he came in, and even Gob's hands moved to pick up a glass to look busy. The man's eyes fell upon Amata gripping the radio, but she didn't see him. She kept murmuring to herself, shaking the radio as she did it. "No, no, no, nonono—"
"Hey, enough of that!" the man said, grabbing Amata's wrist and pulling her away from the radio. Her eyes tore from the mechanism and stared into the harsh, dark eyes of the white haired man behind the bar. Gob didn't dare look at her when that man leaned over the bar next to him, and he continued to scrub away at the glass unnecessarily. Amata's eyes bore into the white haired man, her breathing heavy. "Get out of my saloon," he barked, pointing to the door. His voice drowned out the last words from Three Dog on the radio. "Now!"
Amata's vision blurred as the tears filled her eyes, and she could barely make out the queer look that the white haired man gave her. A few people in the bar dared to look at her, but she couldn't discern the looks on their faces. Turning from the scene, she stormed from the bar, bursting into the unwelcome sunlight.
Ana's dead. Ana's dead, Ana's dead. She thought that was what she wanted, but to hear of it happening, to actually know the truth that her friend was no longer alive was painful. Her hate was shallow, and it easily dissipated. I didn't mean it, I did want to see you again, oh God, Ana, I want to see you!
Amata rested herself against the railing across from the saloon, trying to fight the tears back as they sloppily dripped from her eyes. Ana had truly taken everything from her; a comfortable life, a father, a true friend. She died for them. Oh, Ana, why did you have to die?
She cried for a while, a few minutes, at the most. When she felt the initial pain start to subside (although the deep ache still remained) she started back to the house. Amata truly believed she would hold a grudge against Ana for the rest of her life, but hearing of the things she had done for the entire Wasteland, hearing of her death... there was no way she could hate Ana forever, not her one and only true friend.
"You find anything?" Mr. Brotch asked Amata as she passed him by the atomic bomb in the heart of the crater. Amata shot her eyes up at him, surprised to hear his voice. "What happened?" he asked when he saw the horrid pink tint of her puffy eyes.
Amata was quiet as she tried to decide her answer. "Nothing," she said, "just a bar brawl."
"You have to be careful around here," Mr. Brotch warned her, "there's no telling what these Wasteland assholes will do."
"I know."
When Amata walked back up to the house, she was surprised to find it empty. She closed the door behind her and ascended the steps, walking into the only bedroom. There was a desk, a filing cabinet, and a thin, aged, soiled mattress cramped together in the small bedroom. Amata took a few steps to the bed, sat down, and put her face in her hands. She sniveled a bit as she wiped away the excess tears, and she took a few deep breaths to calm herself. "Dammit, Ana," Amata muttered with a bitter laugh. With a heavy sigh, Amata lifted her Pip-Boy and brought up her inventory, selecting Picture and pressing recall.
She held her hand out, and formed it around the frame that materialized in her palm. Amata had swiped the picture from Ana's old apartment the night they ran from the Vault and camped out in the tunnel just outside the huge door. Amata brushed away at the dirt on one corner of the picture before setting it down on the desk. Ana had been so young then, just a child. She only wished she could go back to those days, before any turmoil could have touched them. Glancing upon father and daughter, she had only hoped that Ana had found him and was at peace at last. Then, scrolling through the options on her Pip-Boy, Amata used the automatic tuner to find Galaxy News Radio, and to her surprise, she heard the man, Three Dog, continue to talk about Ana. Leaning back on the bed, she rested her Pip-Boy in her lap, closing her eyes, and listened to the story of the young woman who had saved the world.
"Ana, come look at this," James said, waving his young daughter over. She put down her textbook, and got off her bed to stand next to her father. He had a book open on his lap, and the pages he was looking at were completely black with white dots scattered across them. Faint blue lines connected with the white spots, and small print was written in various spots on the pages.
"What is it?"
"This, here," James said, pointing to a white dot, "is the star we named you after: it's Andromeda."
Ana gave a goofy smile, giggling shortly. "That's silly, Dad, stars are just huge nuclear reactions. Why would you name me after a star?"
"The story of Andromeda was your mother's favourite. When we were deciding on names, she had said from the start that a daughter would be named Andromeda."
"There's a story behind a star?" Ana said, sitting down across from him on the opposite couch, "who would do that?"
"It wasn't the star that the story was based off of," James said, waving a finger in the air, "it was the story that the star was named after.
"Thousands and thousands of years ago, the Greeks crafted stories to define their culture, stories of their gods and goddesses, and the story of Andromeda is just another one of those tales." He smiled crookedly at his daughter. "Do you want to hear it?"
"Yes," she said, swinging her legs up and underneath her, shifting her bum on the cushions to get comfy.
"Andromeda was a princess born to a woman who was extremely bragging," her father began, "and the gods demanded that the daughter be sacrificed as punishment to the sea monster. When Andromeda was about to meet her fate, Perseus came and saved her, and eventually they got married."
"What?" Ana said, swinging her legs off the couch and leaning forward, "you named me after that story? Mom wasn't a brag, and I'm sure as hell not going to marry some guy—"
"Watch your mouth, young lady," her father warned, tilting his head and peering at her from the tops of his eyes. She closed her mouth and leaned back. "You are right," he continued once his daughter had calmed herself and her manners, "your mother isn't bragging, and we aren't going to give you away to a sea monster. It was your mother's favourite story, because she related to it."
"You mean," Ana said, leaning forward, "mom's mom was going to sacrifice her?"
"No, silly," he said, tussling her messy black hair. "When I met your mother, she had far more potential than she was being given a chance to express, but I helped her through it, and she was able to live for the first time, she was able to live her passion."
"You were her Perseus?"
Her father smiled, looking down at the book. "I like to think so."
"Dad," Ana said, leaning forward and placing her elbows on her knees, "what was Mom's passion?"
"Trying to make the world a better place," he said, looking back to his daughter, "for everyone here in the Vault. For you."
"How was she going to do that?"
"Well, that's a different story."
"Okay, Dad," Ana said, realizing she wouldn't get any answers from her father, "I'm going to get back to my algebra."
She got up off the couch and walked back to her room, where the door stood ajar. "Hey, Dad," she said, turning back in her doorway, "why didn't you call me 'Alpha' or 'Omega'? I thought that was Mom's favourite."
Her father smiled, chuckling softly. "I'm sure you would have protested at a later age."
Ana pondered this. "Yeah, I suppose you're right."
"Try to get your homework done soon," her father called to her as she disappeared back into her room, "they're serving cheeseburgers tonight."
"Oh, sweet!" she chimed, jumping onto the bed and picking up her text book. She read a couple lines before she turned to her bed side table. Dad said she could have the revelation in her room, since she liked to read it over so much. A warm smile spread across her lips as she read the passage, then she returned to her homework. At the top, there was a blank space for her name. Ana picked up her pen, and wrote: I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end.
The End