The Wanderer: Chapter 25
- Specialist Bowser -
Like most pre-War military facilities, Fort Constantine was little more than a compound of deteriorating buildings surrounded by a rusted fence line. Isolated as it was in the rocky canyons of the desolate landscape between SatCom Arrays Five Alpha and Three Delta, the lonely fortress had become the subject of myriad rumors and much superstitious speculation over the past century of its abandonment.
Also due to its remote location, Fort Constantine had presented the military a highly secure warehouse to store developmental weapons and nuclear warheads. Before the Great War, the fortress housed the largest portion of the west coast nuclear arsenal. According to local lore, it was now home to something far more terrifying.
Fort Constantine was believed by many to be haunted. Legends of the nefarious fortress went as far back as anyone could recall. Most Wastelanders believed the fort had become a sinister purgatory where the souls of its defenders were forced to remain, standing an eternal watch as penance for their involvement in the destruction of mankind. Others just believed the fortress was cursed.
No matter what rumors revolved around the infamous fortress, there was at least one legend that had held true for nearly a century. Of all those foolhardy enough to enter the mysterious complex over the years, few had ever returned, and those that did refused to discuss their experience.
Because of its prominence as a pre-War depot, the fort had always generated much interest in factions such as the Enclave, the Outcasts, and the Brotherhood of Steel. Both the Brotherhood and later the Outcasts had patrolled the perimeter of the fortress for years, but rarely had they dared to cross beyond its ominous fence line.
One reason the fortress remained unexplored was the sheer amount of robotic defense systems the government had established to protect their arsenal. Over the years the robot sentries that patrolled the compound remained active and remarkably coordinated in their defensive posture.
The other reason, of course, was Fort Constantine's supernatural reputation. Recruiting local Wastelanders as initiates meant inheriting their biases and beliefs. Over the past decade, the Brotherhood had made several attempts to access the fortress, but the first sign of resistance from a sentry bot or robobrain was enough to send most young initiates fleeing in terror.
With its lethal location in the Enclave infested north combined with the superstition that surrounded it, Fort Constantine had been able to remain unoccupied – unoccupied by the living at least…
As they made their way from Raven Rock to Fort Constantine, Vargas explained the cause of the Brotherhood's renewed interest in the pre-War depot. Of all the legends surrounding the fortress, few were as popular as the one involving a failed expedition arranged by the eccentric British aristocrat, Allistair Tenpenny.
The purpose and fate of Allistair's expedition had been a source of speculation for years, and Tara Fields, the mercenary who organized the mission, was never heard from again.
During his time with the Enclave, however, Rico Vargas had discovered two things. The first was a warhead storage key that he managed to appropriate one night on the mid watch. The second was the reason for Tenpenny's interest in the fort in the first place. Allistair had learned that a top secret suit of developmental T-51b power armor was being stored in the bowels of the facility. He had felt that recovering such a prize was worth the risky investment. The Brotherhood thought it was worth a whole lot more – no matter how lethal Fort Constantine turned out to be…
Specialist Bowser, of course, preferred to rely on science instead of superstition. He didn't believe in ghosts or curses or the supernatural. Nature obeyed laws and followed rules – it was men who broke them.
He had spent his lifetime explaining the unexplainable utilizing sound science. If Fort Constantine was a deathtrap then there had to be a reason. And, if the fort truly contained a suit of T-51b power armor then Bowser was willing to discover the nature of that reason.
For the power armor specialist, the T-51 Bravo was the Holy Grail. The mythical suit was the missing link to understanding the advanced military technology of the pre-War era, and that kind of insight into advanced military design and engineering techniques could even be the Rosetta stone needed to unlock the mysteries of Liberty Prime.
Despite his mental and physical fatigue, the Outcast knight felt nothing but excitement as he and Paladin Vargas approached the haunting silhouette of the infamous fortress.
A squad of Brotherhood knights was congregated at a shack at the fringe of the fort's perimeter. Bowser recognized several from his time at the Citadel.
Knight Artemis was the first to greet the Outcast. Artemis was a superb warrior and gifted commander. He was a real backbone of the Brotherhood. Not only had he repeatedly proven himself in combat, racking up more super mutant kills than most other soldiers combined, but he was an excellent instructor to initiates as well.
Bowser knew from previous discussions with the man that the knight shared many of the Outcasts' beliefs when it came to their primary mission. In the end, Artemis had stuck with Elder Lyons out of loyalty, but it was his sympathy toward the Outcasts that had kept him from advancing past the rank of Knight.
"It's good to see you, brother," the friendly knight said in greeting as he clasped Bowser's hand. "despite your choice of armament."
Bowser smiled at his old friend. Artemis always did enjoy a good ribbing when he could get one in. "Paladin Vargas and I had to improvise." The Outcast said as an explanation of his Enclave appearance.
"Well we're not out of the woods yet, brothers." Paladin Gunny added as he approached the group. Gunny was short for a paladin, but he was stocky and armed with the personality of a pit bull. As the Citadel's drill instructor it was his job to turn initiates into hard-nosed knights. Although he wasn't a fan of Elder Lyon's policy of taking in strays from the Wasteland, Gunny performed his duty with pride. There was no one better at preparing initiates for the harsh realities of Wasteland combat than gruff Paladin Gunny.
Unlike Artemis, Gunny was not an Outcast sympathizer and he skipped the pleasantries all together.
"We've got a decent squad prepared for you, Vargas." Gunny reported, getting right down to business. "Mostly initiates I'm afraid. Some of these maggots haven't even taken the oath yet, and this fortress is scaring the bejeezus out of them, but we're spread pretty thin these days as you know…"
"That's all right Gunny, we'll make do." Vargas assured the man. He took a quick look over his shoulder. The blood red sun was sinking into the rugged mountains of the western horizon. It bled across the reddening skyline as if those jagged peaks were shredding it on the way down. The hues cast an ominous tone to the approaching dusk. "We'd better get moving, brothers. This darkness won't offer the initiates any comfort…"
Paladin Gunny rounded up the four "maggots" from the shack and the group of eight began a cautious trek toward the bomb storage facility on the far side of the compound. The setting sun reflected off a water tower perched behind the warhead warehouse causing the structure to glisten like a beacon guiding them toward their destination.
Between their current position and the warehouse stood the remains of an old administration building. The upper half of the building had crumbled in on itself long ago leaving skeletal steel-frame fingers stretching toward the darkening sky.
Tensions were high as the squad snuck silently across the campus. The Paladins gave commands using hand signals, no one daring to disturb the dead, not even with their helmet communicators. Yet, despite the fortress' infamous reputation, the journey began uneventfully.
As they neared the decrepit admin building, however, a burst of gunfire suddenly ignited the evening air. The Brotherhood squad raced to the perimeter of the decimated structure to find cover, the Paladins searching the darkening ruins for the source of the salvo as they ran. Bowser heard one of the initiates muttering something about being under attack by the spirits of the dead, but the Outcast spotted a sentry bot emerge from around the far corner of the building.
Vargas and Artemis noticed the bot at the same time and lit it up with laser fire.
"Don't be alarmed," the bot commanded in a mechanical voice. "I am programmed to kill you quickly."
That's comforting, Bowser thought as he added to the attack with his own laser fire. The remainder of the squad joined in as well and the knights made quick work of dispatching the droid.
Their first kill seemed to bolster the group's confidence – especially since the attack had come from a sentry bot instead of a supernatural pre-War soldier.
"Double time," Vargas shouted now that the Brotherhood's presence had been announced. The Paladin began a steady jog toward the bomb storage warehouse and the squad fell in line behind him.
The warehouse complex was a combination of two square buildings. Warehouse Alpha, according to their intel, held the bulk of the nuclear arsenal. This was the building to which Vargas had stolen the key.
Warehouse Bravo was the larger of the two. This building was connected to Warehouse Alpha via a covered overpass linking the second floor levels. In its day the passageway had provided a means to transport high value items between the two warehouses without exposing them to the elements. Today it would provide a means for the Brotherhood to access the depths of Warehouse Bravo where they would allegedly recover a set of developmental T-51d power armor!
Vargas finally reached the door to Warehouse Alpha and inserted his stolen key. There was a series of clicks as the intricate locking system retracted its mechanical seals before allowing the door to slide open with a hiss of escaping air.
Several of the initiates appeared ready to bolt as if they expected a torrent of spirits to come flooding out through the opening doorway. Bowser, however, felt only the shiver of excitement as he got one step closer to his life-long dream.
The interior of Warehouse Alpha was dark and foreboding and deathly quiet. The only noise Bowser heard was the radiation alert as his power armor's sensors detected a sharp spike in background readings. The information on his helmet's heads-up display was the only thing the Outcast could see in the pitch black until Vargas engaged his headlamp.
The harsh light illuminated only a small cluttered corner of the expansive warehouse. From the clutter of weapons handling support equipment and shipping containers a half dozen eyes sparkled in the shadows. The creatures suddenly burst into the light, a host of ghoulified humans turned feral from a century of radiation emanating from the multitude of warheads stored in cages lining the walls. Some of the hideous humanoids still wore the tattered remains of U.S. Army uniforms, but most were skeletal thin and naked.
Two terrified initiates headed straight for the doorway, but Gunny had already slammed it shut. "Fight or die, maggots!" he shouted at the would-be deserters; raising his laser rifle and firing into the oncoming ghouls.
"Draw strength from your brothers, we are bound by steel!" Knight Artemis shouted his own words of encouragement to the initiates.
"But don't hit those fucking nukes, maggots, or we're all dead," Gunny added. Several laser blasts had already come too close to the storage cages for the drill sergeant's comfort.
The staccato bursts of laser fire provided an eerie, sporadic illumination to the warehouse. The stroboscopic effect gave the entire battle the surrealistic illusion of slow motion. Despite Gunny's warning, as more of the gruesome ghouls materialized from the depths of the expansive warehouse, the panicked initiates began firing wildly sending beams of energy flying in all directions.
"Stick close," Vargas directed through their helmet comms, "we're going to fight our way to that stairwell."
The tight cluster of eight blasted a path forward, each man covering a different direction as they moved as one unit. Their progress continued within the slow-motion reality causing even Bowser to feel like he was fighting his way through a haunted nightmare. By the time they made the stairwell, a cold terror was beginning to seep into all the warriors.
They charged up the metal gantry taking the stairs three at a time. Gunny hung back to cover their assent, and then followed closely on the heels of the last initiate. He wanted to make sure no one got "confused" as to which direction they were supposed to be headed.
At the top of the stairs, Vargas located the doorway to the second floor walkway and herded everyone into the passage. One terrified initiate began sprinting down the tunnel toward Warehouse Bravo in an attempt to put as much distance between himself and the ghastly pre-War ghouls as possible.
Artemis ran after the rogue initiate as Gunny finally burst through the Alpha door and slammed it home. He quickly dogged the hatch down and then welded it shut with laser fire for good measure just in case the ferals figured out how to open it. With the Alpha threat neutralized, the squad headed for Warehouse Bravo.
The rogue initiate reached the Bravo doorway well before Artemis could get to him. Still too frightened to consider caution, he flung the door open to reveal a sentry bot responding to the commotion. The sentry bot immediately deployed a blistering succession of blasts from its Gatling laser, boring a hole right into the man's midsection.
As the dead initiate slumped to the ground, Artemis unleashed a torrent of return fire at the bot. For a moment the two stood toe-to-tripod blasting one another, but the bot finally deteriorated in a spectacular burst of flame and sparks.
The remaining seven progressed through a series of storerooms, blasting through more robobrains and sentry bots who had been standing their post for over a century. Despite the robotic resistance and the panic-stricken state of their remaining initiates, the knights finally worked their way into the weapons development section of Warehouse Bravo.
The dead body of a mercenary lay propped against a door to the research bay. Vargas searched the dead woman and found a note. He read it through his helmet radio:
"If anyone finds this note, stay the hell away from this place. If the feral ghouls don't get you, the robots will. There's radiation everywhere. I think they used to make nukes here, or maybe they just kept them, I don't know. Tara"
"Well no shit." Gunny grumbled, dragging the body away from the door. "Thanks for the heads up Tara."
Bowser wasn't really paying attention to Tenpenny's dead mercenary. There was a wall terminal next to the imposing door to the research bay and Bowser was already hacking into it. He worked quickly through the columns of code as he decrypted a series of alphanumeric passwords. Finally, as he typed the last one in, the terminal beeped its acceptance and the research bay door opened with a hiss.
Bowser wasn't sure what he expected as he entered the research bay. He had dreamt of this moment for as long as he could remember, but what he discovered had never once been any part of those fantasies.
Seated at a bank of consoles in the center of the bay sat a ghoul. He was smoking a cigarette as he fiddling with the terminals. Stranger still, he was wearing the T-51b armor!
He turned as he heard the door and seemed even more startled than the Outcast. He leapt to his feet and looked down at the operation station. A helmet and a Gatling laser were lying on the console. The ghoul opted for the laser and managed to retrieve it with astounding speed.
"What is this? Who dares to interrupt my research?" The decaying creature hissed.
Bowser could see that this man was once an Army veteran like the Warehouse Alpha ghouls. Unlike them, however, he had not yet gone feral, but judging from the insane look in his wild eyes, Bowser was guessing that the process had already begun.
"Take it easy, Colonel Crowley." Bowser pleaded, reading the name hand-scrawled on the left breastplate of the magnificent armor. The Outcast was hoping the use of his name would keep the man calm. "We come in peace."
"Bullshit!" the crazed colonel growled. The noise sounded more animal than human. "You've come for my armor. They always come for my armor. But they don't get it, because it's mine. All they get is dead…"
The rest of the Brotherhood had caught up to Bowser now. They immediately locked their rifles on the ghoul and began shouting at him to drop his weapon.
The ghoulified pre-War soldier became even more agitated. He began shouting obscenities at the squad as his weapon darted from one opponent to the next. "It's not yours… It's mine, mine, all mine…"
Bowser was shouting as well. His biggest fear was that this was going to deteriorate into a close-quarters battle with the crazy colonel going out in a blaze of glory. The Outcast couldn't get this close to the power armor to watch the Brotherhood destroy it now. "Don't shoot the armor." He ordered over and over.
"What's he saying?" an initiate with an itchy trigger finger called out in confusion.
"You gotta shoot him in the head!" Gunny hollered back.
- Amata Almodovar -
Amata had never seen the church so crowded. Even the Sublimation Celebration didn't produce the kind of masses that were currently packed into Saint Kelvin's Cathedral. It appeared as if the entire vault had come to see the trial surrounding the Surveillance Scandal.
The thetans were perched upon the dais of the central apse in a line of magnificent, wing-backed chairs carved from real wood. Archthetan Mack sat at the center, of course, flanked by a row of three thetans on either side.
The Archthetan looked majestic as he towered above the masses in a chair so large that it could have been a throne. His resplendent robes flowed forth in a spectacular array of blue fabric trimmed with actual silver and gold embroidery. Behind him rose the steel and stained glass monolith of The Purge, lending an ominous gravity to the imposing visage.
Paul Hannon Sr. sat before the council of thetans. Amata thought it seemed as if the man were disintegrating right before her eyes. His confession had just caused a massive uproar. The Archthetan was calling for order, his impressive baritone booming through the cathedral and rising above the din of the crowd. Normally Mack's voice could command instant silence in the church, but today his audience was too stunned to comply.
Vikki Hannon was falling apart in the front row. Some of the other security officer wives were trying to comfort her but they weren't having much success.
Paul Hannon Jr. was seated with the other Tunnel Snakes in a segregated section reserved for the accused. To his left Freddie Gomez seemed just as shocked by the chief's confession as Paul Jr. did. To his right, Butch DeLoria remained stone-faced, his expression unreadable.
Amata looked over at her father. To the casual observer, his expression was just as stoic as Butch's, but Amata knew how to read her father's face. There was an almost imperceptible upward arch to the corners of his mouth, but it was the pleasure reflected in his dark eyes that truly betrayed his confidence. The trial was proceeding exactly as he had planned.
Once Archthetan Mack got the crowd back under control, he allowed Chief Hannon to step down. The broken man avoided eye contact with the onlookers as he returned to the section for the accused where the Overseer was seated. There was a ripple of hisses and jeers as Paul Sr. dejectedly made his way back to his seat.
The Archthetan shouted for order again, and then called Butch DeLoria to testify. Although his face remained dispassionate, Amata could see beads of sweat forming on Butch's brow beneath his perfectly coiffed hair.
Butch briefly glanced at the Overseer as he approached the council, then his eyes found Amata. She gave him a tiny nod hoping to bolster the young man's resolve. She didn't want Butch to lose his nerve now. He was going to put the first chink in her father's formidable armor.
"The Truth of the Universe is Omnipresent." The Archthetan began his incantation. "It exists in every atom of this Cathedral and all those who bear witness to this proceeding. Do you, Butch DeLoria, swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"
"I do so swear," Butch provided the expected response.
"Is it true, Mr. DeLoria," Archthetan Mack began as a hush finally fell over the crowd, "that you are a member of a gang known as the Tunnel Snakes?"
"I am, Your Honor," Butch replied.
"And you are the leader of this gang?" a wizened old thetan with a flowing white beard inquired.
"Wally and I were… I guess it's just me now that Wally is…" Butch didn't finish his thought.
Realizing his question might have opened a wound, the bearded thetan winced as he snuck a sideways glance at Archthetan Mack.
There was an awkward pause in the proceedings for a moment, and then Mack asked, "Mr. DeLoria, can you please tell the council why the Tunnel Snakes were present at the Server and Mainframe Control Room on the night in question?"
"We were hired to break into the place and retrieve a packet of information from a SaMCoR technician." Butch stated, the beads of sweat thickening on his forehead.
"Was that technician Mr. Floyd Lewis?" another bearded thetan asked.
"Yes, Sir," Butch confirmed.
"And you were there to confiscate the surveillance disks?" Archthetan Mack continued.
"We didn't know what the disks contained," Butch clarified. It was a minor point, but the Tunnel Snakes were facing enough charges without adding conspiracy of the surveillance scandal cover-up to the list.
"Was that all you were hired to do?" Mack pressed.
"No, Your Honor. We were also supposed to encourage the technician to stop gathering data."
"Encourage how?" asked Thetan Cruz.
"Wally was going to throw Floyd a beating." Butch muttered as he cast his eyes to the floor. The statement had sent another ripple of gasps and outrage roiling through the crowded Cathedral.
Amata kept her eyes on Butch. So far he had been performing just as she had coached him. He was displaying the appropriate amounts of sadness and remorse. But she could see his thin veneer of control starting to crack, and his biggest test was yet to come…
The Archthetan's veneer was beginning to crack as well. Listening to his dead son's reputation being dragged through the mud was definitely taking a toll on the man, and these constant outbursts from the congregation were trying his patience.
When the crowd finally settled, Archthetan Mack quickly summarized so that he could get to the question that mattered.
"If I've understood you correctly, Mr. DeLoria, the Tunnel Snakes were hired to break into SaMCoR, rough up Mr. Lewis, and confiscate his data tapes. Is that correct?"
"Yes, Your Honor," Butch nodded affirmatively, still looking at the floor.
"And who, Mr. Deloria, hired the Tunnel Snakes to conduct these crimes?"
The silence that pervaded the Cathedral was deafening as Butch slowly lifted his eyes to survey the room. His gaze first paused at Freddie and Paul seated in their segregated section. Paul Jr. sat rigidly, tension emanating from him in waves. Freddie just seemed nervous and confused.
Butch's gaze shifted to Paul Sr. He was seated in the Overseer's section and appeared uninterested in the remainder of the proceedings. The chief seemed certain that all fingers would point to him today and he was resigned to accepting his fate.
The Overseer, on the other hand, was riveted to the young man bearing witness. Pinning the Tunnel Snakes' involvement on Hannon was the last hurdle the Overseer had to clear to solidify his innocence.
Finally Butch turned his eyes toward Amata. She tried to look calm and reassuring, but she could feel that the tension in her body was just as palpable as that of Paul Jr. and her father. She was nodding her head slightly, willing Butch to follow their plan.
Amata, of course, didn't base her entire plan on Butch's response. She expected Beef O'Brian to return to the cathedral any moment to provide a scathing testimony that her father wouldn't be able to pin on anyone. But she wanted Butch to plant a seed of doubt in the congregation first, and she wanted her father to be off-balance for Beef's testimony.
Butch wiped the sweat from his forehead, being careful not to muss his hair. He let his gaze linger a second longer on Amata, then he finally pointed a shaky finger at the Overseer.
Amata exhaled a sigh of relief as the rest of the congregation erupted into chaos. Through the outraged crowd, Amata saw her father staring at her, studying her reaction. She had never seen such a look of heartbreak and betrayal. The part of her that was his daughter felt her own heart breaking. The part of her that was his weapon, however, had just blown up in his face.
The entire council of thetans, including Archthetan Mack, was on its feet and attempting to regain control of the crowd. People everywhere were locked in heated debates – some arguing for the Overseer's innocence and some against. Several were demanding his immediate resignation. Others wanted him banished to the Wasteland.
In the midst of the turmoil, Amata finally heard the cathedral doors burst open. She expected to see Beef come through to take the stand and put the final nail in her father's coffin. The officer would tell an incredible tale of secret labs and the escape of a mutant scientist that her father had claimed was dead. What she saw instead, however, sent shivers up her spine as terror froze her blood.
Barging into the cathedral was the monster that had once been James Prescott. Although Beef had given her a vivid description of the beast that her father kept locked up in the bowels of the vault, the words paled in comparison to the creature that now stormed into the cathedral's nave.
Due to the general confusion and uproar, Amata was one of the first to notice the mutant. More and more people, however, became acutely aware of the danger as the hulking atrocity stomped its way toward the central apse.
The majority of the vault security force was on hand and unarmed to watch the trial of their chief. They could do little to fight the creature or the crowd as panic consumed the congregation.
Bodies were scattering in every direction as people rushed to reach the closest exits. Casualties were piling up beneath a stampede of terrified vault dwellers as they trampled and fought their way out of the church.
The Mutant spotted Overseer Almodovar who was still seated in his segregated section. The Overseer seemed paralyzed with fear. His eyes and his mouth were wide open but the man was too shocked to make a sound. He simply sat there in awe, staring at the monster he had helped create.
James roared with rage as he grabbed hold of the embroidered lapels of the Overseers jumpsuit with his humungous hands and hoisted the man up to eye level. Almodovar's boots dangled several feet off the tile floor as he found himself staring face to face with his worst nightmare.
The security force had finally rounded up some weapons and began fighting their way through the chaotic crowd in an attempt to reach the mutant. Amata was screaming for them to hurry as she tried to race to her father's aid as well.
"James!" The Overseer shouted above the din of the madness. "There is no need for violence."
"You destroyed my family!" the mutant roared back. "Because of you I have nothing – I am nothing!"
"Think of your family, James. I am the one person that can locate your son and bring him back to safety." Almodovar implored.
The mutant looked wildly around the massive cathedral. Miraculously, many of the congregation had ceased their mad exodus. The onlookers had become transfixed by the saga unfolding at the central apse. Even the thetans stood frozen in place by the spectacle. Only Amata and the security force were still closing in on the scene.
Amata was getting close enough now to make out details of the grotesque scientist. As the beast surveyed his surroundings, his eyes locked onto hers. Despite his inhuman appearance, his eyes still held a semblance of humanity. In that brief moment, Amata saw the entire gamut of the human condition flash through those eyes in a kaleidoscope of emotion.
She saw the fear the man obviously felt as the entire vault security force converged on his position. She saw the rage that was undoubtedly born from the hardships he had endured at the hands of her father. She saw the confusion of a man who was weighing all his options and wrestling with their consequences. But most of all, as the mutant stared down at her in recognition, she saw the heartbreak of a man who had lost his family.
Whether it was the fact that Amata was the daughter of the mutant's mortal enemy or merely the fact that she was a childhood friend of James' son, Amata couldn't be sure. But something in the mutated scientist's eyes told her that she reminded him of Joules, and probably of all that her father had taken from him.
The last thing she saw in those eyes before they turned back toward her father was the resolve of a man who knew what he had to do and was finally prepared to do it.
"My son will never be safe as long as you are alive!" the giant roared as he heaved the Overseer over his head and hurled the man up into The Purge with all of his considerable might.
- James Prescott -
Overseer Almodovar flew nearly twenty feet above the dais, flailing his arms and legs as if he were trying to swim through mid-air. His scream engulfed the expansive cathedral and for a split second it was the only sound that could be heard. Then it was replaced by an explosion of shattering glass.
The Overseer's explosive impact was spectacular. The upper half of his body smashed head long into the bloom of the stained-glass mushroom cloud and sent a cascade of multi-colored splinters raining down the face of the monolithic display.
The lower half of his body struck a stainless steel support and halted his forward motion. The impact kept him centered over the structure as he smashed downward like the blade of a guillotine.
His body continued to crash down through glass and steel until it finally came to rest on a horizontal support about six feet above the dais. A huge shard of glass still clinging to the support impaled the man cleanly as it entered his stomach and burst through the back of his jumpsuit.
Alphonse Almodovar twitched on the stained-glass skewer as the last of his life's blood drained down the lower section of The Purge. He stretched out a hand, whether it was toward the mutant or his daughter was unclear. They had both played a part in his destruction, and neither one could look away from the horrific scene.
The Overseer attempted to say a final word, but a torrent of blood was the only thing that escaped his mouth. Finally, with one shuddering spasm, the forty year reign of Alphonse Almodovar ended.
James finally managed to tear his eyes away from the macabre carcass of the Overseer. As he sank to his massive knees, the beast's eyes rose to what remained of the The Purge. The mighty mushroom cloud was gone, but the starry universe and Oppenheimer's famous quote still clung to the top of the monolith.
James knew many quotes from Robert Oppenheimer, the legendary leader of the Manhattan Project. A staunch supporter of science, Oppenheimer had said, "There must be no barriers to freedom of inquiry ... There is no place for dogma in science." For much of his life, James had lived under the belief that science, for the pure sake of science, was a righteous endeavor.
But like the father of the atomic bomb, the mutant's years in captivity had caused James to struggle with the ethics of scientific achievement. Oppenheimer had also said, "There are no secrets about the world of nature. There are only secrets about the thoughts and intentions of men."
Had James' intentions been pure? Had he truly devoted himself to science for the sake of science or had he let the dogma of the vault cloud his judgment. It seemed that all his actions had led to the destruction of everything he had ever held dear. His lab was destroyed, his research gone, his wife missing, his son wandering the waste. Even his physical form was no longer his own.
The words of Oppenheimer's most famous quote were actually a passage from a Hindu text, spoken by the god Krishna who appears in his Universal form – a multi-armed monster. Krishna calls himself the "destroyer of worlds" and Oppenheimer used the words to say, "I am evil. A real god can create life, but all I can do is destroy it at a mass level."
Now James found himself kneeling before that shrine, like Krishna, his own form that of a mutated monster. Perhaps this was his true form. Perhaps, like Krishna, the mutated scientist was nothing more than a destroyer of worlds.
"Now I am become Death." James growled sadly as he placed his massive hands above his head in surrender.