AN: Nice twist thrown in for you all!

Chapter 25

Nicks Beast.

In accordance to most missing persons cases he's ever undertaken, whether him personally or something gauged in memory lane, this was one of the strangest.

Old cases like the Paragon case especially, had taken him down a darker street, complete with blinking street lights, dark, cloudy skies with the scent of tobacco and alcohol in the air. All sorts of nasty, disgusting scum that roamed the city in its entirety. Dealing in God knows what...but it was always the same with people who want to taste of power, to let others know who's boss.

Instead of traversing the streets, it was in a darker alley, left underground. Far from the dwells of the surface. He wouldn't remember what went on, but like the majority, you knew it wouldn't have been too good anyway. Even Nick's memories from Prewar were more vivid than what ever the hell went on down here.

Another hallway. Though well-lit, it had evidence of being clean until recently. The dust was minor and the floor looked well-intact, save for the fallen tables and trashed desks. Any trace of the work that went on down here, no matter how large or small, appeared to have either been moved or destroyed. Nick had a suspicion it was both for parts of it; what ever did happen down here, definitely did not want anything to remain or be found.

He held onto his gun tightly, as his glowing yellow eyes scanned the room for anything relevant...besides the doors nearby. His artificial gut was telling him more than he could anticipate in regards to the Institute...thus far. It was by every nook and cranny of this place that didn't make him nervous, rather, it made him see it as alien in nature. They weren't chislers like Raiders or Gunners...they were skilled eggheads that just had their own unique way of causing trouble.

Before they'd left, Nick had to ensure anything he'd left behind was taken care of, especially Ellie. Though given that he'd come back from far worse, he wasn't sure if even Delta could get him out of a jam like this. She'd pulled off the impossible before. To her, perhaps this wouldn't be any different.

He liked the fact that she wasn't entirely brutal in nature, rather to use words to convey. That's how people of the old days did deals. In a world of dimwits and bad hats, it was nice to see a person who refreshed him on the way things should have been. You'd be foolhardy to believe absolutely everyone was decent, though you'd hope they would have some light in their hearts, no matter how dark they were.

It was the beast of the Commonwealth that often got it's dirty claws into people. It forces people to change. It took a lot for Nick to hate people; you just had to push the right buttons to make him do so, such as being just a downright piece of junk that had no qualms about the horrible things they did.

Nerves, or those the Institute substituted for nerves, wasn't part of Nick's current dilemma regarding where he was. He never got the feel of familiarity like he did on the surface. Everywhere seemed clean and perfect...that perfection would only ever be skin deep. As part of his wandering process in the dreaded silence, it forced him to recollect old events. Even synth brains were designed to make your mind wander...

2075. The Paragon Trials. The Court room was filled with your typical group of lawyers and all else. Nick had read up up to date details that were given to him regarding the mess they made. Everyone was dressed in suits, their tongues waggling in big words of the law, making it seem a structured script that they would read to relay their point. Never caring for such a thing, Nick sat with the Prosecutor, a middle-aged man with nicely styled brown hair, as they pointed out evidence to the case to the Judge on the other side of the stage, looking down upon the case in direct scrutiny.

It was about dead women and children, caught up in their acts of violence. Their names. And a small bottle of BR-210.

He looked over to Nate, sitting there with blank eyes. Definitely unfocused and inattentive to the situation, while his lawyer did all the talking. It made Nick have chills by just looking at him briefly as he crossed his arms.

It disappointed Nick, because he knew they were there for a noble cause. Old soldiers who still wanted to fight for their country but were discharged for one reason or another, could still do their duty in doing so. Nick wasn't against that. It was just the perpetuating rumours and a dead woman that sent them into a downward spiral. Nate was only because he was their CO...and refused to give the name of the individual who did it due to the PMCs privacy policies.

It took a lot work for Nick himself to make sneaky work of the case. There was one that had connections to the murder. Another woman who held grudges against the deceased, presumably for affairs with her husband, who was also killed as part of the matter.

More incriminating evidence was the Paragons work with a chem producer, testing their product on the Paragon Soldiers. Of course they'd discussed the side effects, namely that aggressive behaviour was noted on the female soldier at the time. The Prosecutor stood up and presented the manner of his accumulated words.

"The child, your honour, a young boy killed by this woman as he was a witness to the crime. This sole 'female' mercenary had come into their house, completely chem'd off her head and killed Mrs. Dare in the crime of passion. The weapon used was a .44 pistol, modified with a suppressor as if not to alert the neighbours." He explained, going to pick up the weapon itself and presented it to the jury.

Transgressions such as these were unfortunately common. Medical reasons were often cited as an excuse to lessen the impact of the verdicts though, given Nick's quarrels with dealers, it was a shame that consented use of it was hardly ever taken into consideration.

But Nate never said a word the entire time. The Lawyer and the Prosecutor bantered with each other the entire time, forcing the judge to put the order into things. Nick believed he must have known that without the clearest evidence saying that it was this, particular female that did the crime, there was no way that they would ever get caught doing it. Nick did find among the scheme of it the notes that were found, such as results regarding the usage of BR-210 in a cluster of soldiers and that aggression was noted in a lot of them, however it was mostly the gun that was used. A lot of people could get hold of pistols and the worst past was that it wasn't registered to anyone.

Nick was dismayed that the case declared the Paragons not guilty, but the coldness festered as he continued to do his work to solve this mystery case, even after it was declared otherwise.

He'd found a nearby terminal and became ultimately curious, shuffling over to it to decrypt its contents. It was locked of course, but it didn't take him long to get into the meat of it.

Though, not much of it was relevant. Just old data that Nick didn't care about, mostly results of synth tests. Must of have fallen into a part of the Institute that constructed them. Nothing seemed to awaken any type of memory that had been taken away, though, it was the nature of having the mental construct based on robotic subroutines and not humanoid, organic ways of thinking, even when he ran his fingers across the walls, the triggers he would have believed to have supposed to exist, weren't even doing anything for him.

He fell into a stance upon hearing numerous voices, whipping out his gun as the sounds filled the air. The digitised noises that called for him, well, not him specifically...could only mean one thing.

Nick definitely wasn't the only synth in the room.

Synths like the ones the Institute regularly churns out he felt nothing of, if not the strangest symbiotic reaction of not exactly caring like they wouldn't, though each of their faces reminded him that he was supposed...no, he was exactly like them. But their very nature and pattern were definitely not human. They were the ones everyone else feared more so.

Hiding around corners, Nick had to discern how many were out there. He could hear the clattering of footsteps nearby. Must have been several, to Nick's observations. But that corridor seemed longer than he expected as they crept closer. It forced Nick to come out of hiding to barrage them down, one by one. It wasn't like he hadn't done it before, as he took them out without much fuss. Though you'd think that within the passage of time their upgrades would have made them shoot a tad straighter. Technology like that you can never really work out all the kinks.

All these gen 2s. All of of their dull faces that lay scattered across the floor as Nick checked for anything on their bodies. Nothing to note of, which was what he would have expected, but in this day and age you rack up a habit that's kind of hard to shake off.

Before the war you'd only hear such a thing from the homeless as they struggled to survive. Otherwise the morality of it changed. The beast of man developed into something far more sinister. You would arrest a man for robbing him of another's dignity. Now, no one so much as a bat an eyelid.

The Institute felt like it bounced between the pledges of the old days and those of recent times. The tech was fresh, new, though partially reminded him of when he had his brain scanned...the day the synth Nick was theoretically created. No...he was born. An embryo frozen in time and sent to become the literal brainchild of future synth life.

Every room Nick ventured into had both signs of life and signs of violent activity. A struggle definitely occurred down here, but what ever happened left everything in shambles, unable to pieced back together again like ol' humpty dumpty

"Figured you'd be sticking your nose around where it doesn't belong..."

Nick turned to see a dame in red and felt off-put by the gas mask she was wearing.

"I was just trying to find a fresh snout since the old ones fallin' apart. What do I have the pleasure of your presence?" He asked her in a more disdain way.

Her entire figure seemed...ominous. The gam was lit up from the neck down but her head? Very cult like. No worse than the Children of Atom however. She strode towards him, then looked around at the synth bodies on the ground.

"War Nick. Just...war. Defining who is friend...and who is foe." She responded, waving her hand about.

People tend to beat around the bush. Sure it frustrates him greatly, like he's supposed to figure out puzzles like this. Yeah he's a detective but not a mind reader.

"Culling the ranks from above huh? Something tells me you're not from the Institute though..." He called out as he rubbed his chin.

The woman nodded.

"I didn't even need to say it. The Institute was wiped out entirely. Leaving the remains of a civil war between two enigmatic forces." She replied.

He immediately recognised the faded symbol on one of her gloves.

"You're a Paragon. Been tryin' to find out who's responsible for this mess ever since one of our own went missing. You might know her." Nick stated. He theorised that just by her figure alone that she held a lot more than one might have expected. She could have all the answers, but preferred to shade the truth to what ever end she desired.

The woman lifted her chin. She certainly held the air of superiority, no doubt.

"Yeah I know. Delta Nier. Listen Nick, what ever you might have heard about the Paragons..."

Her words cycled something in Nick's circuits. Old, darkened memories...and the hatred and sickness that came with it, even as she said the name so casually like it was common news. It was but still...they were more akin to throw away words.

"I investigated your kind over two hundred years ago. The work...the horrors you inflicted. Either you are just taking up their name without researching the truth or you're part of a sinister plot. Which evers the answer, it's a name that's stained with a bloodied past. You better explain yourself."

Nick requested with scorn, his eyes fixated on her form.

"Yes. That I know of. The name was once thought of as noble... I believed the name had noble intentions. This...this group I lead is far from the ones you would have looked into that long ago. The group you're searching for is the one we lead the war with; a splintered faction that are called the Renegades." The woman surmised.

Didn't make Nick feel any better. How much of it was of a partial truth was yet to be seen. He'd never even heard of these Renegades, not in any documents he'd sifted through.

"What's with the mask though, you're definitely hiding stuff from me and I don't like it when people hide stuff from me when I'm in the middle of an investigation...though I do find out eventually. Just makes it easier when you can just give without hassle or bullets in each others heads." Nick sanctioned. The woman seemed reasonable.

She chuckled however...that disturbed him somewhat.

"Oh Nick I haven't even shoved a gun into your face. I'm not hostile-only to those who deserve it."

She responded, in a way that seemed far more cheery than when she first spoke. Hmm...

Even her body language was lax, as she slouched like a drunk and her movements were outright flimsy and careless.

"I noticed. But that doesn't answer my question." He asked again, annoyed by her behaviour.

She knocked on the side of the mask twice with a fist.

"Some secrets are worth keeping...some...worth sharing. Those that I consider...trustworthy in my eyes. The Commonwealth's always had this...instability, this disgusting, unholy trench of deception. Does the World make a man who he is or does the man make the world for what it is? The key is in who you know...but ultimately...it's about who has your back...no matter what."

Partially true. The world is hardly kind but those who dwell within it aren't that much different from the harsh rotations, the gruelling part of the reality that simply won't let up. But it let Nick know the cusp of what she meant.

"So you're not going to tell me unless...I can guarantee some washed up notion of loyalty to you?" He wondered.

She clasped her hand and made some kind of noise resembling glee. It was hard to discern.

"Clever boy. But yes. Detective Valentine, I'm offering you a deal of a life time! But you're thinking. Really now? Does this fucked up whore really going to think that me, honest, sweet natured Nick Valentine is going to side with you?; because somewhere along the line, he did his homework and found out the even more fucked up side of the Paragons and the very thought of joining them all together is the ultimate ironic piece of a shitty arrangement on this side of the god damn Commonwealth, lead by Queen bitch of the Commonwealth? Really? Oh laugh with me Nick...it's a funny joke isn't it?"

He didn't even know what to say in response to that, rather still reeling from her disturbing laughter.

Few words escaped his lips.

"Yeah I guess."

She suddenly got closer, faster than he could perceive, and clasped his unused metal hand with both of her own fleshed ones.

"So tell me...what would it take to get you to trust me? What could Valentine want from lil' ol me?"

She asked him in a peculiar accent.

"A room in an asylum would be out the question. So how about taking off your mask?"

He replied nonchalantly.

The woman absolutely howled in laughter as she let go of him to let herself choke it out. Nick stepped backwards a bit to distance himself. He was right though; this woman was insane.

"You crack me up. But...you're being serious aren't you?" She inquired.

If Nick was honest with himself, he wouldn't actually care too much. He'd be able to identify the woman herself but if she ended up as a nobody, wannabe Paragon who looked up information on a terminal somewhere and pretended she was former, Gunner wannabe big shot then he would want to make sure he was dealing with a legitimate, not just some lunatic hooked up on God knows what and landed down here in the Institute like the rest of them. It wouldn't hurt to know however...perhaps he could humour her for more answers. Although she did actually know a lot more than she would let on, stating that she actually knew of Delta, perhaps this woman was linked in a way Nick never even imagined.

"Y-yeah. I am. You want to trust me then fine, I'm all that and more. However, given you like to play your own little game here, I want to know if I can trust you. You yourself pointed out that I wouldn't be able to join on the basis of me joining a potentially criminal organisation. It'd be like me joining the Institute. Unheard of." He told her.

Without even seeing her face, he could already tell she was quite conflicted with the ordeal. It amused Nick that she tried to hide herself, in order to make it difficult for Nick to read her, though if she'd let her guard down, he'd be able to read her like a newspaper.

"Savvy Nick. Savvy. Given the very effect information has on people can send them into a certain amount of...emotional digs. Not my fault if you wouldn't be able to trace it down to a nitpick. But I think...that you being the last on those I've already encountered and recruited, I savoured you for last. Get it, savoured? Seriously though...I've been a very busy girl and I'm already getting comfortable with the idea of it. Just...takes...time..."

Emotions swirled within his synthetic noggin as to what she was getting at overall...if he had to nitpick, he would guess that she thought he wouldn't like what he would see. If anything else, it made him even more curious.

"I've seen worse, believe me. But unless you get rid of the mask, I'm not gonna tag along in your little group of misfits." He commented as he crossed his arms.

She giggled.

"Oh believe me...you already have."

He watched as she slowly put her hands on the mask, with her fingers that drifted over the casing, as Nick watched her take it off.

What he saw...wasn't really what he expected, though given the circumstances, should have expected, though it honestly didn't look right. He knew something was off but...would he just have to realise the entirety of it?

The brown hair, tied up in a ponytail, with the minor bangs to the side the framed her bony, gaunt face. The deep, dark circles that plagued underneath her dull, bloodshot green eyes and the pale skin of her cheeks and less than lush lips.

"Delta...no you can't be..." Nick whispered in disbelief.

She bit her lip, then looked down as she smirked.

"You would be right. I am not Delta at all. I am...a synth...like you. Though of course a newer model but otherwise birthed from the same mechanical womb."

This...devastated Nick but it also made him feel very conflicted. A synth Delta...

Where was the real one?

"Explains a lot. You know what happened to real one?" He wanted to know. He really did. Some theories went around the Commonwealth as to what happened to the original humans before they were replaced with synths. Any investigations Nick ever did, always came up with the same answer. They went missing. With this common scenario in mind, it filtered him with dread to think of Delta falling to the same fate. But he just had to know. He had to hope.

Synth Delta shook her head.

"I don't know. The Institute had made various experiments on me which could have included wiping out a lot of memories."

Similar to him. Just the same damn story as he.

"Bastards. Look, Delta I understand what you're going through..."

Then, in a swift motion as she dropped her mask to the floor, she pushed him to the ground with the ugliest, most twisted form of anger on her face as she hovered over him.

"DO NOT CALL ME BY THAT NAME...I DON'T GIVE TWO SHITS ABOUT THAT NICK. I DON'T WANT ANYONES SYMPATHY...I..." She yelled, before turning her head to the side.

"I only care about saving Delta. I...I..."

She pulled him back up again, then oddly enough started to dust his jacket, her focus on a spot on the floor nearby as she did so.

"Sorry about that... I don't know what came over me..."

It was then he realised she wasn't focusing on the floor...but his weapon. He put it away, in response to the answer to her own request.

"It's fine. What do you want me to call you then?" He asked her.

It was fascinating to see the part of this process that was developed within the Institute. Delta herself was never like this by chance. She'd mostly keep all of it to herself and fight the good fight in reasonable amounts of fearless combat. Stupidity wasn't in her genes...just generally a numbness she could hardly escape from, no matter how hard she smiled.

Though...what if she finally fell to all the pressure? Would this be the result?

"I've taken to the name Commander. I'm in charge of the Paragons here in the ruins of the Institute, scouting night and day for Delta's where abouts. So far, I've gotten no leads..besides the Renegades who are my competition. It may rest with them as they look for her as well. But for all we know, the assholes may have her in custody and we don't even know it. They're out for anyone who was in contact with her."

This made a bit more sense.

"So you're getting all the people in that she knew and worked with. Funny way of doin' it." He assumed.

The Commander smirked. Even with the rest of it have the general aesthetic of Delta herself, everything about this synth was wrong like they ran a different mind of her inside this replica. Worse, she appeared ill.

"Dear Nicky I must be meticulous or else the other player on the board might get a move on. All of Deltas valuable resources could be at his disposal. I just need the best pieces to win." She told him, returning back to her unusual perky charm.

That must have meant all the people that had gone down here. Deacon, Preston, Danse, X6...

"I see where you're playing at. Genius actually. Main question is; what's your next move?" He wondered. The real Delta would have a plan at play without actually saying what the plan was. She was exactly the same when they encountered Kellogg.

"I cannot be forgiven for what I am and for what's been said and done already. Though I'll continue to move the pieces separately. For now...assume you'll have to full cooperation of the others...though I'm saddened to think that some...those still above will never accept me."

Nick thought about the others...Curie, Cait, Codsworth, MacCready, Mayor Hancock...

"You wanted them to come down here too huh?" Nick queried.

The Commander sighed as she turned around, going to a nearby desk and placing her hands down as she leaned forward as Nick examined the cloak on her back. Wouldn't have though of her to become something so odd with a strict moniker like that and giving off the vibes of the most strange sort.

"Should have known. Curie and Codsworth, both I doubt will be a problem. The others..."

Delta knew the minds of those she traveled with. If their adventures with her were anything like theirs, it was that they were able to open their hearts and minds to the dame, like they had given each other what they really needed, as a mother to their child.

"From a point of view yes. You knew...you knew how Delta saw these people, so in a way...without making it too complicated you know these people just as well as she did." He commented, though a bit puzzled as to not to force any triggers on the woman. He'd probably get it eventually.

Her head fell.

"..there's not a lot I can do...I'll try what ever I can...for now, I'll make do with what I've got."

She must have really thought this through. Or not. Given Delta's methods she would normally go straight into the fray herself. The synth could have been altered in that line of thinking. But how far gone can you go before you really lose it all...Delta had no such pretences.

She turned around and picked up her gas mask.

"I was told about Strong by the way. I assure you...that was not my order. It would have been him."

Strong? Ah yes. The Super Mutant.

"So you're saying it was these Renegades. Might as I ask who he may be?"

Nick queried.

The Commander grabbed a nearby chair and sat down, putting the gas mask on a nearby desk, the running her fingers against her scalp as she spread her legs and slouched over. A sign of distress?

"Delta's husband, Nathan Nier. He's back. I...I dunno how. Whether or not he was brought from Vault 111 or...it's a synth replica I don't have a clue. I've been searching the Institute for weeks for a full record of synth creations but nothing's been found. I figured Father may have wiped them out when we clashed here."

It automatically twisted the detectives artificial heart as he recalled the discovery about Father being the very son Delta was searching for. How could fate be so cruel to one so kind.

"I'm guessing he's dead now..." Nick stated, needing to clarify X6s words.

The Commanders leg began to bounce erratically. The thoughts and feelings, especially those of contradicting compounds, would likely fry her mind if she wasn't careful.

"Regretfully...I...I know...Nathan Nier needs to die." She croaked.

That they could both agree with.

"But...why would Delta disappear Nick? Why would she leave?"

Nick took a chair himself and sat in front of her, carefully analysing the synths state as she had strained her words, giving off the feeling she was rather desperate.

"Not sure. Hoping you could answer that for both of us." Nick answered.

"Technically you would have all of the answers. But if the Institute tinkered with you, they may have forced you to forget everything that transpired."

She snorted.

"That's true. I've been wracking my head for weeks but nothing's come up. Others say that in the sense of Delta's supposed, altruism and blessed personality, she may have finished her work and went on to...I dunno...do better things elsewhere. I know...I should know. I should know but I don't and it's killing me."

Given the original Delta was raised in a way that she would have never expected to things to turn out this way, although the Commander still held signs.

"Don't blame yourself...it was out of your control." Nick told her, though it felt like he was on the borderline of a rather dangerous situation. But he didn't push to risk it, he wouldn't get any further...even if he was at the moment in the midst of a glare from the enraged woman across from him.

"All she wanted was to find her son. She figured it out. Then her husband comes into the picture and even he refuses to explain himself, rather than to steal a whole bunch of synths and to smear the campaign further with the Renegades in an attempt to get Delta for goodness knows why. As revenge? He already thinks I'm a monster. Whether or not you believe what I am...is up to your own damn interpretation. All I want to know is that Delta is safe and her horrible beast of a husband is taken care of. Is that too much to ask?"

To Nick, he'd wager if he got to speak with Nate himself, he'd be able to find the ultimate truth in all of this...what his motives were...why he was looking for Delta. It would finally bring him that closure from two centuries ago.

"I'm up for finding him. As you know it's my speciality. If it helps find Delta as well, then yeah why not?"

The Commander looked down at the ground again and was eerily still. Nick got back up and extended his hand to her.

"Delta wants us to work together. You're already doing the hard work for her. She might not know you personally, but from what I've heard she already knows it's important."

Her eyes travelled from his hand to his face. It felt like a stare of death, but she pondered for the moment before grasping it, then got off the chair.

"You're right. She would. I'm happy to answer what I can, but I have other duties to take care of. Right now the best place to start for you would be back on the surface. I'm hearing word of Nate's meddling. I need you to make sure he doesn't sough the seed of discord...if he hasn't done so already." She replied in kind, grabbing her gas mask.

"You need me to do anything in particular? I'm not entirely sure what you expect me to do. I don't really have as great relationships with any of her companions as she would have either...so..." Nick spoke, curious.

The Commander nodded, and gave off a sneaky smirk that drove wedges in him.

"You're charismatic enough to try." She spoke of slyly.

He found that amusing.

"Well doll when you have years of experience with these sorts of things, like you, you gotta find out who's your pal and who's the bucko you watch to make sure that he doesn't stab you in the back."

She smiled. Or what was construed as a smile was aimed towards Nick, who in the depths of his circuits, felt part of Delta in there. You couldn't get rid of absolutely everything, after all, even if it's not the whole Delta...he could see her.

"First things first, before we fall into sentimental crap. I need her Pip-Boy. I've been told Delta had sent it so she's currently without it. If any one asks just say you might be able to find something in there. Technically true but not a word of me understand?" She told him outright.

Nick understood that much. Wouldn't want to compromise things. Even so...this...Not!Delta as she insisted on not calling herself had a type of intelligence that interested him greatly. Though partially her emotive state did worry him. He wanted to imagine to revelation or at least the phase she'd gone through when she found out what she was. A world tumbled towards into the abyss, tainted by anger and fear...and regret.

"Done and done. First thing though...how and I going to get out of here?"

The Commander's unhinged smirk reappeared.

"Oh yes I almost forgot..."

She pulled something out of her glove. A small chip, if you will.

"I've got a little toy that the Institute uses to get people out and in of the Institute. A little toy that Coursers use..."

Part of Nick didn't really need further things to be shoved into his cranium. Last time that happened, a ghost of ages past nearly threatened things.

"You're giving me the ability to teleport? This'll probably be the first hardware update I've had in years."

He joked.

"Old hardware usually lasts longer if you think about it. Tougher too." The Commander noted as she walked around behind him to tinker about in it.

He remained still as she fiddled around back there. Logic would have said no, as who knows what the Commander was actually doing back there, but Nick was inclined to trust her no matter what state of mind she was in. Doubt should have been clouding his mind, in fact, a lot should have been on his mind.

"Annnd done...good. At least Delta had the decency to be good with tinkering." She commented as she dusted her hands, then went to stand in front of Nick.

It was just like days gone by with mods and the scavenging for parts. She took her gas mask and placed it back on her head, giving back her mysterious air.

"Once you've gotten the Pip-Boy intact, bring it back to me straight away. Should give us enough data...if not, there's always holotapes. Which brings me to my next point. Holotapes. Anything useful, get them too. Never know what you might find."

Nick suddenly found himself flung out, then dropped off in some part the Commonwealth.

As he recognised the statue nearby and the broken wooden bridge in the distance, underneath the morning sun, he was near Sanctuary.

Though he had to absorb the scope of what just happened and how the others would actually take to this...Commander. This new Synth. Honestly, given time, Nick wouldn't have cared about what she was. As long as the Commander gives enough decency to herself to become her own person, if not to curb her inner beast, then, for sure.

Though now he was allowed out into the open, it simultaneously started giving him unknown feelings towards it all. How much did she even say was truth...there were parts of her he didn't even recognise weren't part of Delta in the first place. Whether to go with gut instinct or just to go with the flow of reality was the real question. It would be in character for Delta to at least try. Or if the synth was in denial that she herself was real. It disturbed Nick greatly to know he once thought that way. Now another synth was going through the same issues as he.

Did the Commander realise that too? Another question for another time as he went towards Sanctuary.

The face she made at me was probably meant for a smile. Whatever it was, it beat me. I was afraid she'd do it again, so I surrendered