Proto Hype?

by Stereborg

Be warned; Story contain suggestively hazardous themes, Lemons, a sprinkle of gray nuts, Cyanide, Multi-Crossover, OCs, AUs, Gamer, is plotless, and not for children. Crosses Nasuverse, Elder Scroll, Fallout and several others. Infrequent updates.

17. Die and Live

Gone. Yet again.

The closest to true death. Where nothing remains, that even any version of Death could only hope to scrape up the remains, if there were remains to begin with.

As I lay in this state of inexistence, I can't help but to remember.

...my experiences, thoughts, memories, and I lost track of which is which.

I know I recently died to a devious Time God and I know I have to start from scratch.

No matter.

If these memories and knowledge that flits through my mind is of any indication, then I can always rise up.

But, through it all, a common thread shows itself. I assumed I was strong. That I was capable of wiping out any obstacle that presents itself whenever, wherever, however, and whoever they can be.

That arrogance caused—pushed even—several beings to hunt me down. Instead of me living in relative peace, I was hunted each time I live again. So much so, that some of these memories are fading, harder to grasp every second.

And no matter what form, substance, or circumstance I put myself in, I still was hunted. Some by randomness doing them a favor; stumbling right in front of me then I'd be dead again. No struggle.

Oh, there were times that I did struggle. But for all I did, I still died. Every time. My subjects survived, sure. But what about me? For the countless times I was forced to die, they—my subjects—all were secured away from those that hunt me down. Successfully at that.

And for that, they prosper.

Yet, I had to suffer to accomplish such feat.

I thought myself powerful.

The illusion of might blinded me.

Through all the time I did live, I now see one common thread through these unsorted mess of memories.

Potential. Limitless possibilities at the tip of my fingers and I chose to laze around, almost accomplishing... nothing. True, there were times of brilliance when I did force myself.

Although now that I'd think of it again, am I bound to this.. stagnation? Or is it just something inherent in me prevalent enough that I see it as a common thread?

Well.

A choice offers itself.

I won't repress these memories. Let's see what I can do for the next playthrough.

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Alternate Universes... The Multi-Verse Theory... Omni-Verses...

Shits like these throw you off. But for all the fun you'd get from a canonical timeline, chaos says 'Try this one.' And you'd better follow.

Instead of being allowed to choose which installation I'd go on, I was forced (at least I wasn't before). I was hoping to go for the Vault Dweller this time, but oh no, I am to be the Lone Wanderer.

Born to Catherine and James of the Fallout 3 franchise. Where instead of Catherine dying to Cardiac Arrest, James died defending us from Super Mutants. Where Catherine gave me the love and nurturing of a mother inside Vault 101.

Life inside the Vault was fun. As it was, the Vault wasn't small as the game had shown. It was massive and very much deeper underground. How it could be properly ventilated for more than two centuries is not my concern.

My concern was that it wasn't canon. And the overseer was lenient in this one.

Under one condition, anyone may come and go, provided they follow the condition on pain of death and their reason(s) is valid.

The condition? You swear to uphold the interests of the Vault. There's a series of textbooks for it containing scenarios and other such things that defines the interests of the Vault as well as procedures on such and such.

And it has gone through a century's worth of amendments.

One of it is that, once outside the Vault, you know nothing of the Vault. Inside, you have to know every single job and be competent enough or capable of performing them all. Or as close it could get to that analogy.

Training is, of course, provided. Batteries not included. But still, the Vault provides so long as you do your part.

Inside Vault 101, I grew. At the same time, Catherine had perfected the early parts of her plans for Revelation 21:6 in the stretch of a decade.

How? Give a scientist all the tools and discretion ever needed and an overseer to oversee it and you will have an improved quality of bunker life.

A few groups of them? Well, you'd have a mini big mountain at your hands, just without the damning effects like it did so at the game.

And then let time pass, let them accumulate the wonders they accomplish.

It all boils down to what they can now do.

They can use nanotechnology, but not nanobots. I can't wrap my head how they can't use nanobots when it's just a few steps away from their nanotechnology. It doesn't make sense without knowing it was nanosized computer components and other equipment. Yet, they haven't figured out nanobots.

On the other hand, they have advanced technology the world has yet to see. The Brotherhood of Steel at Lost Hills will salivate at this. Fuck, I don't know why the Enclave haven't forcefully made their way yet.

And Catherine, she had used what looked to be a facsimile of a Garden of Eden Creation Kit. An improved one at that. Running on nanotechnology, without the nanobots part, it absorbs harmful radiation or processes whatever there is around it into an object for proper human habitation.

The process is highly convoluted, let's just say you put water in a glass, and that said glass was GECK, move the water from the GECK onto a different container and it'd be good for human consumption. As long as it wasn't a toxic sludge made from the innards of an Elder God, GECK can and will be successful in it's function.

But that was what Stanislus Braun created, what Catherine created was something even better. Hers can do what a GECK can do, just that whatever radiation it had absorbed is then turned into energy that can power whatever you want.

Therefore, in theory, you can leave Catherine's GECK on for centuries while it goes around terraforming places for human habitation. Provided someone lugs it into those radioactive places.

Now why is it important?

It's because the aforementioned group of scientists, their descendants to be exact, had made plans to integrate it into the Vault 101's Power Armors and other possible things, but mainly power armors.

Oh, you didn't know? Well now you do.

They also have these, self-contained environ suits. I liked to refer to them as NEBARTO Beta I.

It fucking looks similar to the framework of what I have made as Alexander Mercer.

Now, let us pan back a bit, can you see what I'm planning here?

A ten year old doing shit with armor, ain't that strange?

Not in Vault 101 my dear friend.

It is highly suggested you do shit for as early as you could. No free loaders allowed.

Someone like Butch in the game? They'd have to undergo some subliminal therapy (read: Indoctrination) to become productive members of our Vault Society.

Right now, I'm stuck between a bedrock and an even harder object. The eggheads haven't figured out how to outfit power armors with the radiation absorption.

Why am I stuck when clearly, its them who has to do the work? Simple, there's school where I train for almost everything, socializing, tuning into news about the wasteland (Three Dog's kickin' asses on this version), and many more.

Not to mention that I have to bond with my birth mother; Catherine. And I have to figure out if she will proceed with her project. Because if she does, then that means I have to fight my way with just a ten year old's body instead of seventeen or nineteen.

And as a rite of passage, when one reaches ten years old, they are taught the final lessons on how to assemble their own PIP-Boy. Not just that simple. You must understand the needed quantum mechanics when you become ten. Taught at six and fostered until needed at ten. I have a real PIP-Boy just like in the game.

And there are a few more years ahead with even more to learn, improve, and make.

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Seven years had passed, I've taken the GOAT, celebrated with AND by fucking the overseer's daughter and her friends in a party they prepared for me.

It was very, very confusing on who I was fucking at the time, so much that my lips were always mashing with another, and I still don't know who it is. Alcohol does that for you. Through it all, thank God I haven't done a cream pie.

The following weeks after that was filled with panic and awe.

A lot of them got checked by mom, we found out that they were not pregnant. I think they took some precaution. Needless to say, it remained a secret. One they enjoy keeping.

Oh yeah, I was a candidate for the Overseer position as well as other supervisory positions. Not that I was the only one who managed to get the position.

Also, I improved upon my PIP-Boy designs because mine was a patch job that lacks its game counter part of VATS.

There was great success from the science department; anti-radiation equipment was created based on mom's GECK, and made as an attachment to everyone's PIP-Boy, I requested to have the blueprints. I was granted. With a spark of an idea, I've made plans to create an Omni tool to merge with my PIP-Boy.

Mom was, I think, preparing to finish Project Purity, she's already contacted the Brotherhood and I think she's stockpiled on her equipment.

Now, the next focus would be what I've done in seven years. Just one word and we'll commence time skip.

Nanites.

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Two years, I have now approached canon-point. The Brotherhood had prepared for this, as well as my mom and I.

I've finished the nanites a year ago. A fact that I have masked with my other achievements, like the improved stim packs. And I have had another year to properly get my body into shape by using a fuck ton of stim packs (perks of having created a better and efficient stim pack recipe) and nanites doing their function to my whole body.

Right now, nanites are running in my and mom's blood stream.

I still lack some components to make where you can use it as a disguise, but I have the basics of Crysis where it can preserve the telomeres upon cell division resulting in near biological immortality. Nonetheless, it can also be used to connect devices among other things.

Jefferson's Memorial is our destination. Judging by the barricades and other deployments around it, the Brotherhood had done what they can. All we need to do is install our version of the GECK and we'd be good to go.

And that's when shit started going down.

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"Looks like they've barricaded." I said.

A sigh escaped my mom's lips, "Just keep vigilant."

We continued our walk, relatively peaceful, with only Mole rats and one -young- Deathclaw. Nothing else.

Catherine's a badass. I kept the Deathclaw busy while she prepared the decapitation. With just one swing, the Deathclaw's head rolled. I have it stored away for now.

"We're near the bridge, watch for mines." Mom said.

"Do I have to deactivate them or do we skirt past them?"

"It's mostly against wildlife and raiders high on drugs, we can effectively walk on one side near the railings and be safe." She waved off.

Nodding, I scanned our backs for potential enemies. I found none.

We continued until I heard the distinct rotators of a vertibird.

I spotted enclave insignia, "Mom." She scrambled for the radio, "Sigma Delta, this is Catherine. Prepare for Aerial assault." We started running.

Me being the pack mule almost lagged behind, Mom's already ahead verifying our entrance.

"Identify target." The reply came as fast.

"Enclave." I replied back with my radio.

One word, just one word galvanized the whole outpost. Turrets whirled to life, guns cocked, power armored men took to the makeshift towers, klaxon blared.

It could have been a hoax for all they knew. But no, they know to better be safe than sorry. And with us reporting the fact just made it more credible.

Meanwhile, me and mom have to rush and start working on activating the purifier. Because, just like in the game, the enclave might do the same. Not that anyone besides me knew.

We've gotten inside, the firing had started, a few minor shocks and tremors signaling a few dropping vertibirds.

Couldn't care, we have to start now.

"Jack, set up the power grid." She blurted off in huffs, already hooking up the GECK into the purifier.

She's not talking about the game's power grid part. Remember the radiation into energy conversion that happens? That's what she wants me to do.

Still, it doesn't make sense that the Enclave just knew -when- to attack.

"I need help." I quickly motioned for the two scribes nearby.

From the four-feet-tall and almost three feet wide bag, I pulled power couplings and the best I could make out of conductors, fission batteries, microfusion cells, electron charge packs, and a heck of ton of circuitries.

I handed the power couplings to the two scribes, "Get the same number of generators and attach these to their alternators, get more help and bring cables, quick!"

They did what they could and scrambled like a headless organization.

I set up the energy distribution board and attached it into its intended casing. I'd have to secure the proper place fo— why not just under the glasteel door? It's the place they'd least expect it without proper observation. The cables can also be hidden under the stairs and I can set a few dummy cables to make it look like the cables are flowing to and from the GECK.

"What else do we need?"

I turned to the voice, I saw a few carrying inside generators— "Scatter those generators, do not let them near here or each other, that's the purpose of the cables! Set them up onto different rooms if you have to. We need those cables wired into this place, I'll do the rest."

They scrambled again, but this time, I was left with several thick cables unspooling from the way the scribes were pulling them into places.

I would have made an energy distribution grid, but I have not the time nor all the resources. I'd have to scrap after what I did with the nanites. That being said, the energy distribution board is refined with nanites -after- I've successfully attached it to Vault 101's reactor.

The initial blueprints have been given to the science team (the eggheads) for payment of sorts, or just whatever they think I meant. I gave them the original sure, but mine's even better than theirs now.

Whereas its was capable of channeling a few hundred gigawatts, now it was capable of channeling a few terawatts.

"Jack, the cables! Come on, we need it quick!" Mom said in hurry as she jury-rigged here and there over the main panel. The cables were thick, normally requiring at least two persons to lift, I need no one else. With two on each of my arms I dragged them to mom.

"Here. Where do—"

"Look to your left and see the socket? Yes, that's where."

Hastily, I followed. It took but a few seconds, I checked for errors and found none. I measured a few meters off from it and cut them all at that length and moving them near the glasteel door.

Its time to start my dummy cables, I threw a few over the chamber's roof and let them stay there while I finished attaching the real ones onto the EDB under the glasteel door.

"Hey, we're done with t—"

"Great! N—" I ran to my bag and pulled a six 1x1x1 feet boxes.

"—ow, see these boxes? There's a super adhesive and epoxy under it, I need you all to stick that side atop a door's frame, center left right, I don't care. Just make sure it's installed inside. Not outside the door where it can be seen. We need it hidden as well as the lines that will power it."

"What are they?" Scribe #12 asked.

"Transforming tesla turrets."

They fell into stupor, "MOVE IT!" I shouted.

They were set into action again.

I finished the wiring on the EDB and took to the dummy cables. Need to make it look legitimate.

"I'm done here!"

"Great! Make sure the generators are up to speed and we can properly redistribute the power supply!"

Looking around, I made sure no one was watching, and pulled out two power stations from my—if it even qualifies—patchwork of an omni pip. Let's hope they chalk it up to my bag's size and my ability to also jury rig.

I lifted one and placed it behind the support column near the door to my right, I did the same to the left and attached cables to both.

Those cables will connect to the EDB as the main energy storage of sorts. Whatever could not be stored will be cycled into the whole setup; where a few will bleed into the generators, while most of it will be used to power the GECK.

The problem now would be the energy required to jump start our version of the GECK. Sure, we have a nuclear reactor in Vault 101, but not here at Jefferson Memorial.

It's solved by the generators working first on their own to produce power and send it through the cables into the EDB and for the EDB to store it into the two power stations.

I rushed to the scribes outside shouting, "Start the generators!"

We only needed a few minutes, what with the two power stations already having charges. Only thing needed would be to have little power running on the cables to prevent an overload event when we start the GECK.

"Mom, we're good here. Let's seal everything."

"Not yet Jack, we need to have this running for centuries. I need to finish the calibrations."

"Well, that's why I've scrapped what I could for my nanites! That's what they're for. Mom, come on. I don't want us to get caught in the crossfire."

She hesitated.

"Fine. Just one moment—There. Seal the door." She said, huffing indignantly.

I'd say she looks cute, but I won't go there if she won't drag me.

A few codes and the door was sealed. From my omni pip, I booted up the nanites.

/Enter command: _

I looked to my mom, she gave a nod, an expectant nod.

/Enter command: strt PrjPrty180277

||...

||Command accepted. Please clear the area.

"Mom, we need to go now. The turrets can only prevent the Enclave so much, that is if we aren't overrun yet."

I tapped whatever equipment we have lying around and stored it into my PIP-Boy.

We ran to the escape hatch. No use sealing it, its hidden behind a tower—err, a stack of servers.

Curiously, we ran to no one. Not a single ghoul or any Enclave.

Yes, we ran. Didn't stop for anything. We got to the outpost and surprisingly, the guard was on attention but seems to be chilling. What without his T-40d helmet.

We proceeded without a hitch. And it is getting to my nerves.

I might get a repeat of my other play throughs where Adams Air Force Base launched nukes onto wherever they wanted—

Shit, we need to avoid Pentagon.

"Mom." I caught to her attention, helping her out of the hatch.

"Yeah?" she asked, dusting off her hands.

"I got that feeling again."

"And?"

"We run away."

Her face shifted to one showing incredulity. "The citadel's the safest place on the continent, maybe the whole planet at that." She defended, trying to pull us inside the citadel.

"Its worse than what I felt when the Deathclaw snuck up on us."

I won over her maternal instincts with that one, it seems.

"Fine. To Megaton then."

"Not there either. Just, let's get away from here first okay?"

"Where then?"

I showed her my PIP-Boy and the waypoint.

"That's a ruin. There's nothing there."

I shook my head and gave her a wink while answering the opposite, "Yes, it is. And we may find nothing. But it's also a subway. It's a good way to lay low."

She caught onto my meaning. She now knows someone's listening but can't see us, and that we need to get to the place quick and lose the trail we might leave leading to us.

A tired sigh escaped her lips, "Alright, fine. It'd be weeks, if not months, before we can shower again. Are we good on food?" she murmured more to herself and less to me.

I ran a check on my omni pip and pulled a small nanite packet from the inventory, slowing down and shuffling to mom's left side, I lifted her left arm and slowly injected the nanites into the holo tape section.

Thankfully, she remained silent.

I turned it off.

"I think someone was listening in on us from your pip boy. I checked mine and there were no oncoming nor outgoing signal of any sort."

"What about your map system?"

"I've downloaded the aggregate from our Vault's Data Banks and have a program sift and thread it all. I did the final ironing before we got out to ensure it runs smoothly."

"So, it's static, but how is it updating?"

"Remember my schematics of different armors?"

It clicked in her head.

"I see." She said, looking at me with that 'proud and beaming' -look.

"Yes, go on, praise me!" I puffed and posed.

"Yeah, yeah, you're handsome like your father. Smart like me. Best of two worlds— Et cetera, et cetera." She said, mildly amused, and slowly trudged forward. "Come on, we need to get there before mutants get hyperactive."

Midnight and afternoon seem to be the peak hours that super mutant activity hits high. Based on Brotherhood reports, that is.

And we're approaching 1030, an hour and a half before super mutants do their thing.

"Do we run, or..."

"We run but you take the lead, you're always staring up my ass."

"Wha—"

"Don't deny it Jack, your mom's getting old, I know. You don't have to make me feel young."

I just started running while also pulling out two stealth boys.

I tossed the other over my shoulder.

"No need to get embarrassed Jack." She chided, well, tried to as we ran.

"I'm not embarrassed."

"... Alright then."

Our run eventually stopped as we reached the subway, already I was getting pings of movement from the omni pip.

"Stealth mode. There's a lot of activity. I don't know what it is coming from. But it certainly is ahead. And also, open your PIP-Boy now."

"Stealth field effects?"

"Well, part of the reason why I upgraded your PIP-Boy."

"Explain."

"Better security and more functionality. You'll just have to wait for the heads up display to boot up."

And we waited.

"I, Jack, this is... far too advanced than what's available in the Vault... I just thought you were working on existing projects; successful, dropped, or otherwise."

"Mom. Focus. We need to move, now. I'll be covered with the RFID on your HUD. From here on out, no speaking. If you want to talk, just go for Morse code and tap me. I have some emergency function but I doubt they'll work in a two way."

I got a nod and suddenly, stealth field enveloped us.

There's a lot of improvement that I can do on this stealth device, but it requires time I do not have. And I only got us to head directly for Operation: Anchorage because of the bullshit I spewed. But if a common thread is true, at least, FEV or some good things are inside the Virtual Strategic Solutions Inc.'s Armory.

What? You didn't know what I also didn't know before? Don't worry, I don't even know if anything I have swimming in my head is true. I've been through a lot, and these memories are worthless if everything doesn't follow canon.

We've— Holy shit.

HOLYSHIT

Glowing Legendary Alpha Deathclaw

Mom was frozen in place and so was I.

It was chasing after super mutants.

And that means we might be near a nest.

I don't like it. I don't want this. I don't know what will happen.

A young Deathclaw is fine. But this isn't.

As far as I know, this thing doesn't exist in canon, just mods. I have proof that this is a heavily modded play through just to torment me.

It went past by us and I have nothing to beat it with.

Through the neural link I have with the omni pip and nanites, I tried sending messages onto mom's hud. While the thing already passed us by, I doubt it's alone.

||-Do not speak. Do not make a sound or noise.

||-Stay calm.

||-When it's clear, we'll walk slowly.

I felt mom's hand onto my shoulder.

She's shaking.

||-It will pass.

||-It is not fine, but we can do this.

||-Trust me.

That seemed to almost do it. As I felt her tap approvingly.

The scan remains the same, no enemies within my senses or any anomalies.

Here's to hoping that the super mutants that it's chasing will live through it. Because, as far as I know, no super mutants ever run away. They chase the thing away to death or they die chasing.

Meaning there's a hint of intelligence in there.

As we slowly creep forwards, I kept my vigilance.

We're near the stairs to the mezzanine and onto the ticket booth and the gate.

A little more and I can forcibly collapse this shit and we'll scale over the rubble to get away from here.

By no means am I strong or powerful, a bit smart and a little bit convincing. But by my lack of Gamer powers? I must play safe.

And I need one of the brightest available to me; my mom, Catherine.

I need to do what I can.

Thinking about it, I haven't properly finished a single play through except this one and just a few hundred others.

My memories number into the blurry millions. I doubt it's all I have. And that's fine, because I could care any less than I care about the sun being a star.

Oh, hey, look at that. Light. And light means passage into an open area. And by extens...ion...

Shit. The Deathclaw's out in the open. Or maybe not. Or maybeFUCKIT.

||-Mom, we'll wait things out.

Her arm looped around mine.

And wait we did.

For some good fifteen minutes, we haven't heard firing or any noise.

Its safe to assume we can move forward because fuckit.

A slow trudge as good as any sneaking pro, we've made way into the destroyed office building and into the rubble filled place. Hmm, few skeletons here and there. It seems this play through is sticking with a few of my play throughs.

The lift seems to be work.. yeah, still working. Wonder why. "Alright, we're safe. For now." I breathed my relief.

"You and I will have a sit after this."

That, that was a surprise. "Why?"

Mom made a face and then did the air quotes, "I got that feeling again." She spat, "FEELING MY ASS!"

Uh, I think that wasn't intentional, but I'll take i—

"What are you doing?"

"F-feeling your ass?"

My hand was slapped, my cheek was slapped, then I was hugged.

"I was scared, Jack. You know that? How can you be so calm?"

Oh.

Ohh..

I seem to have been a bit desensitized to long term effects of almost anything. Is...

Is..

I—

Hmm...

I think I am effectively... a collective of mentally ill people. But still all the same person. Doesn't make sense, but I'll take it.

"I don't know. Doesn't make sense to me."

Now she's sobbing, her arms a bit tighter around me.

"I almost lost you."

I haven't hugged her back, I think I should. "I can't promise anything, but I'll try." I let out with a sigh.

I am one horny asshole. Can't even keep my eyes off my own mother. Though, this hug's feeling weirdly good. I'll chalk it up to her maternal instincts calming me.

The elevator stopped and I heard something closing, I looked up and saw that a hatch just closed the elevator. So not a lift operated elevator then. Probably gears underneath.

The door then opened. I entered, somehow, my mother was now clinging into me. Just hanging from around my shoulder.

"Mom."

A few sniffs and she let herself down.

"Do we need to be cautious?"

"No need for caution here. Most of the facility is either wrecked or something beyond repair. We only need access to the infirmary and what I think will be the armory."

Mom's kind of on the suspecting side, but I don't know what she's suspecting of me. Maybe she's suspecting I'm a synth?

NaH.

Probably.

Ahfuckit.

"Come on." I motioned.

And we walked, this one's vastly different than anything I've played through so far. Now that I'm thinking of it, the elevator ride was longer than what the other playthroughs did.

"Mom, we proceed with caution."

I got an eyeroll, but she prepped for combat.

Aaaaaaaand, nothing. We found no threat at all as we walked into the yellow floors of VSS Inc.

Are those pristine and inactive gutsy bots? Hot damn! Even the turrets too!

Shit, I need to find the security room.

If I'm right it should be on the one where the game shows it's collapsed— alright, there are signs of caving in but I can probably punch the rocks into halves and clear a way should it come to it.

Inside the security room, I attached my omni pip to what I think is a port on a main panel of sorts.

Is mom follo—she is, "Mom, can you press that?" I face motioned to the button. What I think is the boot up button.

She pressed and, the machine whirred to life. I did my best to rewrite or overwrite any active programs with what I've made back in the Vault.

Those were times well spent. Fucking around (literal) and doing progress for the (Vault) society? Nothing beats that.

Remember those tesla turrets? I suggested those modification to the laser turrets, then BLAM, resources were given to me and a few people to start working on it. Then one night, someone on the team had a Eureka! started tap dancing with some guard who checked in on the fuss.

The power stations? Not me, someone else on my team also did.

But my nanites and stim packs? Bare functions of an omni tool and an improved PIP-Boy? All me.

Not to mention my armor. But,

It's the Neural and Anti-Radiation part of NEBARTO. I'd need a lot of components to finish it and make something passable.

Because numero uno, I do not have access to resources. The Vault provided, sure. But it was for the bare minimum to make the discovery into a successful prototype where it'll undergo refining and testing for integration to the entirety of the Vault.

Because numero dos, I still haven't made an AI or a personality matrix that will cater to my needs. All my time was made into making sure anything I do was masked and I was contributing to the Vault. I had to cobble up destroyed parts and shit-about-to-be-thrown-to-the-compactors just to get the basics of protection.

Because numero tres, I lack a certain convenient plot device—err devices? Fuck it. Let's just stick to one for now.

I am not really sure about number three, but I guess it's a common thread on my previous play throughs. When things have settled, I'll contact her.

We have to gear up. Do what we can and then some.

"Oh, it looks operational. Have you tried pulling the... uh, security codes or some control id?" Mom croaked up beside me.

"I did better. I rewrote the operating system and initiated a reboot. I'd have to give everything a manual check and tune-up to prevent unwanted events.

"But enough of that, let's go. SCIENCE AWAITS!"

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A month and a half passed by over us.

Thankfully, there were showers that had stood the test of time.

I had to oversee the security topside with a lot of energy turrets, the reconstruction of the entire underground complex, and doing my absolute best to fully integrate a Chinese stealth field module onto my NEBARTO frame suit.

Mom has contacted the Brotherhood and confirmed that water flows cleanly on and from the Potomac. Shame that the enclave attacked, the saving grace was that our plan worked and the wasteland is now a bit better of a place. Also, the Brotherhood's got loot from Enclave.

Mom is also overseeing the effects of nanites on our bodies and it leads into steamy conversations, thankfully I always held myself back and not just answered her lips with mine.

All my stats can be considered to amount at nine, and I can push it to go beyond ten. Only problem was to -adapt- my actions to the effects. I might suddenly find myself crushing a keyboard or bending a door. All the more reason I have to finish the NEBARTO frame suit so I can turn it into a standard by the time I've went on to Big Mountain and Sierra Madre.

I still need to have Harold's blood sample for me to see if I could apply it to my skin and Doctor Lesko's research on those Fire Ants.

Then go to New Vegas and get the Implants sold by Usanagi and pretty much the whole stuff I can find to and from Big Mountain.

I might also have to do all the DLC here first then get a move on.

By the by, I've gotten access to the armory by brute forcing the codes. Because when you've got a patch job of an omni pip barely capable of quantum computing, why wait?

It's a shame I've done my omni pip as a patch job, if I had better circumstances, I'd have done even better. I'm already skimming by with its half-assed functions just to get it do the basic materializing and storage, using quantum technology I've learned from Vault 101.

I don't have the essential PIP-Boy combat function from the game.

Vault-Tec Assisted Targeting System. I have a facsimile, yes. But not the real deal.

To make one, I'd need technologies from a working PIP-Boy. And I swear I won't make a patch job PIP-Boy from now on.

I can finish Zeta and outfit their teleporting system with the ones at Big Mountain (or vice versa) then use that to fast travel and see if I can find components for VATS. What to do, what to do...

Perhaps I can start my upgrades on Microfusion Breeders and perhaps improve their shelf life by a few decades with the Zeta cells.

I don't see why not.

Though how would I proceed? In the game, the Zetans will strip you of anything, even items from your PIP-Boy, as long as they aren't quest items.

If either; all the items were on your person and the Zetans confiscated it -OR- they can access your PIP-Boy and stash it all away.

Hmm... The latter seems improbable. And all that, assuming I'd let them capture me in the first place.

They do have nanotechnology, evidenced by the epoxy they use to repair almost anything and the biogel they have one that adapts the supposed function a cell should, around the area it is applied.

But hey, they can travel FTL and maybe do quantum computing with their systems.

So, just to be safe when doing the Zeta run, I'd have to drain away all the nanites in my body and have a stock pile of armory and items.

Maybe I should work on improving that T-51b Winterized power armor and attach a stealth field module from a Chinese stealth suit and a Microfusion breeder cell array to solve the power issue...

...That's... gonna be a wrench to my project to make the T-51b into a MJOLNIR version but I can always go with an Ultramarine if I'll end up bulky anyways.

To do both, I need some proper shielding. The scatter fields localized personnel shielding and the deployable version of it; both will help me create something better. Not the OMNI Directional shielding I was fond of, but something more perhaps. The OMNI Directional shielding requires extreme amounts of constant power that I can't supply.

But another problem starts with the plasteel, ceramite, and adamantium needed to forge one Terminator Power Armor. Not to mention the Gene-Seeds to become an Ultramarine.

Saturnite alloy is closer to ceramite and plasteel, the problem would be where would I get adamantium. While yes, adamantium exists here, I don't know where to find it.

But I'll get there, -when- I get there. For now, I'll arm up for a month and finish my plans for subverting the Mothership Zeta without -destroying- anything because I can't use it to its full functionality when its barely functional.

Hooh.

Shit, I've got a lot of work ahead of me.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

Okay, I don't want to say this but, the reconnaissance ship hasn't fallen yet.

There's figuratively nothing north of the MDPL-13 Power Station, no ship, no alien homing beacon. Not even a sign of crash. The decrepit house it should've struck and the surrounding area are both still standing. I also checked for frequencies of any sort; foreign transmissions or otherwise, and found none.

From that moment on, I've decided to get into contact with Moira.

I tried commissioning a telescope or components that we can cobble up together into an observatory of sorts.

My memories of Moira are sabotaging my current disposition of her and while she admitted we can play around, there's no attachment. She's too focused on tinkering around and can't afford to not advance her interests.

Right now, I'm finishing the last parts of her Wasteland Survival Guide where I stuck with the Snide commentaries and observations. All the while, she builds me the observatory I need from the cockpit of an aircraft on her roof.

I was set to collect the pieces, equipment, materials, and other doodads that will help me and Moira make whatever we want after the mini observatory.

Meanwhile, mom pursued her studies into genetics.

I gave her what little I could remember of the Forced Evolutionary Virus and she did the rest through simulations in the VSS Inc.'s, well -our-, servers using nanotech and quantum computing. Her only answer was that it'd take years even with supercomputers.

*Tick

That's the Geiger telling me I have 900+ rads. Standing up, I messaged Moira I'm inbound for ten. The thrusters fired up.

It should've taken me just an hour to soak up that much, but oh no, I was mister smarty pants who gradually improved his entire physiology with nanites.

Well, just my luck. I've had to sit here for almost three hours and talk to mom about stuff or do something with my omni pip.

Like compiling what I need, what I have, where I can get resources.

I really need to secure the Zetan Mothership as it is filled to the brim with tech and resource that rivals Big Mountain without the lobotomization part.

Then there's that other problem. The Tesla Coil Towers surrounding Big Mountain. Entry or exit while in proximity to the towers can cause nerve degradation. Of course, you'd get away from that when you know that your brain is one bunch of nerves and neurons. Not to mention, you'll suddenly find yourselves teleported to somewhere after approaching the towers for too long.

I could probably circumvent it and enter through the pipes where the night stalkers got free. I could perhaps try following the train tracks leading into Big Mountain. Viable, but both are an unknown. There are still probably anti-aircraft defenses online so I cannot approach as I can do right now.

I saw Stockholm glaring at my cloaked form.

"Stop glaring. You know its me." I said through the comms.

He grunted, "You are one big security risk. Fuck knows you might've been the Enclave sent to attack us. Again."

"Oh come on you synthetic meat bag, we both know one another. We can confirm it through our comm handshake—"

"I'm just saying, alright?! It's eating at me every damn time!"

"I'm not falling to this again. For the last time, NO, you won't see mom for therapy. You just ogle her curves you perverted fuck."

He grunted. I huffed.

Finally, I reached the gate and passed overhead, heading straight for the observatory atop Craterside Supply.

The thrusters eased up and settled me just fine into the opened portion.

"You have the experimental rad-away?"

"Here, drink up!"

I grabbed the pitcher as I mentally stored all the equipment away from my body. Moira prepared the operation table where I have to lie as I reinject the nanites into my bloodstream and help my absorption of Moira's ERA.

"Okay, so, I know you've compiled the whole book already; I just wanted to see the -actual- data you dumped on me. Now, oh, that's better." She corrected herself as she saw the information scroll through the screens.

"You know, if you insisted you have nanotechnology a few years ago, I might've used you as the test subject for the repellant stick."

I can't help but smile, "Yesssss, praise me woman, I know you'll fall for me soon enough, believe it! MUAHAHA—"

A light touch of soft flesh landed on my lips.

"Okay. That's— I'll shut up now."

She nodded.

My attention turned to my own analysis.

I sifted through the -actual- long term effects of what I just ingested. It seems to directly cause mutation to the subject's genetic make-up. Say, a cell for example, will 'combat' radiation by forming up hydrogen isotopes onto a protein sheath around itself using the body's available resources. Should a cell fail to resist a damaging radiation, it will start absorbing the byproduct of said failure until it can trigger its own cell repair or cause the repair to other cells near it. Whether the failure was harmless, harmful, or otherwise; it will persist. Thereby, giving me greater cell resiliency. But without the proper immune system to maintain or even acknowledge this 'threat', the cell will treat almost everything that happens as a failure and will 'repair' itself endlessly.

A sigh escaped my lips.

"Moira, you gave me cancer."

I turned my attention to her, she was busy already typing madly at two keyboards WHILE she's sending commands through her neural implants.

"Moira, slowdown. I won't die."

She went faster.

"Damn it."

I began my own analysis and estimation of what the effects can do while subsequently forwarding the data for a simulation that mom will probably tear my ear with when I get back to her.

"Alright, I think I've got it." Moira said.

"Got what?" I asked as I forward the same data to her.

"You made your body really efficient, right?"

"Uh huh."

"You need a lot of stim packs, a healthy dose of UV light for a full hour sometime after you feel the aftereffects."

"But that doesn't explain the possible mutation into a mega virus of any of my cells- WHAT AFTEREFFECTS?!"

She sighed exasperatedly, "You can be dumb sometimes. FEV-like mutation and photovoltaic qualities plus sunlight equals?"

"Holy shit."

"That's right. We -somehow- managed to trigger a state on your cells that just so happens to encode itself onto your entire genetic sequence that -also- SOMEHOW, triggered a mutation that allows your cells to repair itself -WITH- the energy-byproduct of a failed resistance against radiation that then allows it to use said energy to commence self-repair on other nearby cells. It has given you nigh cell resiliency meaning; fewer cell death, and even greater cell efficiency. With time, this all will improve. The nanites have observed this thus far."

I nodded, expecting her to expose more things I haven't already thought of.

"And therefore, your nanites can help absorb the entire dose while I synthesize a possible solution for your possible further mutation."

I think I'll start focusing on boosting my immune system and cell regulation with the nanites. By the time I have the monocyte implant I'll be living for a long time. Hmm, maybe I should finish the nanite component upgrades?

Although I'd have to go to Big Mountain and use their facilities to help me do it—

"Done."

"That fast?"

"The mutation was not immediate, but was based on our projections. As of now, it's at its infancy. We only need minor treatment. Even if it had indeed absorbed every single radiation you've received, it isn't enough to mutate your whole body instantaneously. Also, you need to continuously take this every week to adjust your mutation."

Okay, part of that's true. "What does that have?" I craned my head to look at the thing she's about to have me ingest again.

"It's a mutant cave fungus treated with stim pack, nanites, and a few antibiotics I've come up with. All processed within a centrifuge using your nanites to do what I need."

I sat up and drank the whole pitcher.

"Again, that fast? And why are both in pitchers? The amount, I mean."

Mmm, tastes like watermelon.

"A small dose applied on your vastly improved physiology will be like using a BB Gun against an army of power armored grunts. But enough BB Guns shooting at the right spot with enough time and a lot of ammunition, can disable a power armor. At least its hydraulics. That's assuming the shooters' descendants kept at what they did."

"That is a very convoluted simplification Moira." Damn, I miss watermelons.

She shrugged, "It's the nearest I could give you in this moment of whatever kind of stupidity you seem to have placed yourself."

The nanites reported a successful absorption of the new substance.

"Can you make an improved version of both ERA and AERA?"

"Anti-ERA? It doesn't do that, it adjusts ERA. Placing it at the optimal level the subject's body can handle, at which the immune system recognizes it and adjusts for proper accommodation."

"ERA Adjuster? Eh, doesn't matter, but can you?"

"Sure, I'll just need you to scrounge up some mutant cave fungi. I'll take care of the antibiotics. I'll make enough for all of us, if you collect the right amount of supplies."

With that semi-concluded, I got up from the table and onto the almost finished scope.

The satellite tracking array seems to be hooked up already but a few nodes are missing or are removed purposefully.

"Is this passable already?"

Moira turned from the chem set and synthesizer, "Almost. I need time to calibrate and account for the magnification. Give me more time and we can hook it up to a screen."

"Seems good enough for me, I'll try it right now."

With the sun still in the sky at 1300, it'll be hard to peer without burning your eyes. But that's not the direction I want to look at. Judging by the way the Zetan reconnaissance craft crash landed in the game, I'd say it came from up north and; if the view you can see from the game is true, then it is somehow right over the middle of US. Optimal position to broadcast the launch codes if I have to guess.

Then again, there's another ship. I don't even know if both are in the same orbital location in this one or a combination of mothership and a support ship—"Motherfucker."

Moira dropped whatever she was doing and pushed me aside to have a look.

She saw what I saw.

An armada of Zetan ships.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

A week and a half had passed, and—

I haven't slept for that week; it looks like I won't be able to, for the foreseeable future.

I still have to take in my weekly dosage of ERA adjuster even if ERA has been absorbed and had adapted into my whole body.

Just to be safe, Moira and mom are making what they could to ensure we could survive whatever it is that the Zetans are planning or have enacted.

Clearly, even after two hundred years since they've doused the whole world with nuclear fire, they waited. Even as we prepare, they do whatever they have planned.

We saw smaller ships running to and from two mothership-like class of ships in what I assume to be nonsensical. But they are moving. Movement suggests activity. Activity suggests someone performing or directing an action to cause said activity.

I don't care if it was already under Enclave control or whatever happened.

It means they can attack anytime. ANYTIME. That puts me, mom, and Moira in danger.

My destination right now is Sierra Madre. I have to grab the Hologram emitters and the Vending Machines then take the quickest route into Big Mountain; I'll try either of the two quickest and relatively safer way inside Big Mountain and then seal any possible entrances.

I want to sleep because it feels good. And I only need an hour of sleep to get refreshed. But until I have reached the village surrounding it, I won't rest.

I am getting there. I can already see the cloud.

A bite of yao guai steak went into my mouth followed by a liter of water.

I turned off the thrusters and fell down, ten meters above the ground.

Having a lattice of carbon coating on almost every single bone in my body helped. As well as the improved bones, tendons, ligaments, joints, and muscle. It's a stopgap until I get the implants, nonetheless, the impact felt as if I just jumped from the ground like a normal person.

Then my run started. I'm trekking down the road leading to the cloud covered hill and settlement around it.

Realistically, there's only supposed to be a few ghost people. Just shy of a few hundreds. And if you spread them equally over the whole town, regardless of pathways, it will be more than thirty meters apart before another ghost can come into contact with me. When you account for the pathways, then it extends more than half that distance. Adding their irregular shuffling and behavior to lay traps places it at fifty meters equidistance, with an eleven meter plus/minus margin.

I can even secure myself with a stealth boy tweaked by Moira. It uses another circuit that regulates power connected to a microfusion breeder. Then there's the nanites that forms a coat on my whole body, effectively making me a chameleon.

I'm wearing the NEBARTO frame suit that Moira made for me. I won't use the original, its unfinished.

I can see the entrance to the whole Sierra Madre as well as the rotting town around it. I can see the fountain.

Here's to hoping Elijah haven't reached this place yet. I'll disable the signal and collect as much as I can.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

VATS.

VATS could help you in the game to identify stealth-cloaked enemies even if it reports a 0% chance of hitting, even so, it lets you identify them.

Enter, Me and a facsimile of VATS.

Then, enter Ghosts.

I would have loved to freak out when they were all transparent and shit.

I almost asked to the very air of why and how had ghosts from Crossfire (?) had reached this universe THEN had sex with the canon Ghosts of Sierra Madre to have their bastards. My experimental VATS helped me identifying their almost invisible forms.

Needless to say, I engaged stealth and dodged every single ghost person like I was a Day 1 Alexander Mercer and they were water.

Then the fucking cloud happened.

If through the unobstructed field I can almost miss them Ghosts, the cloud fucked me. I almost ran literally into one of them if I hadn't heard the rebreather.

THEN—

Fucking THEN—

The cloud started degrading the functionality of my exposed nanites, degrading my health by corroding everything that is flesh, and is so fucking thick that I had problems collecting samples that wouldn't eat my flesh the moment I did.

Saving grace was that I can swap armors. The Cloud has seeped into every crevice of my current self-contained environ suit. It has corroded the hermetical seal and adhesives that cover every seam of the suit.

It caused me to wreck two vending machines in frustration and almost have both explode on my face when I tried dismantling them. I succeeded on the third one. Then I made my way into the casino.

If not for my omni pip constantly administering stim pack and my slow but continuous food consumption, I'd be coughing up blood or just slowly adapt under pain.

This isn't canon.

Surprisingly, applying a little shock (read: 100megawatts) on the gate leading to the Sierra Madre Casino disabled the system tripwires- like motion sensor and the infrared grid, for a few minutes until I heard some whirring and everything turned back on.

I didn't take the main entrance.

I took the back entrance, the one that I think leads to the Tampico Theatre. It was filled with Holograms that can apparently see through a fucking stealth field, AND THE FUCKING CLOUD, the moment you're within visibility of the -actual- hologram emitter. BAM! LASER TO THE FUCKING CHEST.

A quick incision on their embedded power lines solved their hostility and, in their place, my Tesla turrets assumed function.

I looted everything. From clothes to whatever fucking thing it is that I can pry off, it goes into the inventory. That goes without saying for the hologram emitters too.

Until I could find a card that has the right RFID, I had to scrap by collecting every single hologram emitter on my way and replacing it with my portable Tesla turret. As well as other stuff of course.

When I found three, one from a staff, one from a supervisor, and one from an actor; I knew I could effectively traverse the whole place right then and there since I have the head of security's ID card. What led the ID card to the theater and not the control room, I don't care.

I walked to the entrance hall and injected a pack of nanites on the computer at the desk.

It seems to be untouched. The dust it collected for over two hundred years or so was there. Meaning Elijah hadn't found this place yet, or at least haven't gotten inside. Yet.

I'll change that.

If the signal's been playing for over two hundred years because of faulty programming and hardware installation, I can still turn it off. And let a legend remain a legend.

I gathered the songs and threaded the parts of the songs that Vera Keyes sang and will help me to gain access to the Vault.

The trek to the suites was uneventful. I got myself the saturnite knives scattered about on the kitchen, a saturnite coated chopping board, and a myriad of other things from personal effects to kitchen supplies and equipment to utility tools. I looted them all.

Then I noticed something as I waltz in the suites.

Vera Keyes's recording was not playing. Her cries before she succumbed to death were not playing.

This isn't canon.

So I did what I can do. I hid myself from human sight and proceeded with caution while bearing the head of security RFID card.

In a minute, I reached an open door to, what I assume was, Vera Keyes's room. Imagine my surprise when I turned to the left where the beds were supposed to be and saw two preservation pods. Cryo pods. Both bearing Vault Tec insignias.

Cryo pod one was empty, the other; with a woman, looking peaceful. I looked around and saw Frederick Sinclair. Healthy as fuck and is drinking whiskey.

Still under the stealth field, I changed into one of the pristine corporate attires I looted. It was a bit tight, but enough of a fit.

I deactivated the stealth field.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

"Frede—"

He jumped and panicked, "SONOFAB—"

"Calm down." I took a sit on one of the stools in front of the bar.

"Wh—who are you?!" He whipped a .45 magnum to my face.

"Jack Balthazar, err, no last name. Parents haven't had the chance to decide on it." I took a bottle of Vodka and started drinking from the bottle.

"How?" He seemed to have calmed down but is filled with confused hostility.

"Would you believe I flew with a jetpack to reach here?"

"No."

"Shame. So, I'm here because I thought I'd find the tech I need."

"And?"

"I did. Just need to figure out those Photonic Resonance Barriers to finish everything."

He frowned and then gripped the gun harder. It seems he's debating things.

"Alright. Come with me." He stood and motioned with his head to where the elevator is.

He spoke his own version of the password to access his vault and presto, the elevator opened. Not once had he pointed the .45 away from me.

We waited for a good while as the elevator descended.

One thing just gnawed at the back of my head. How the fuck can he get out of cryo when the usual cryo awakening sequence requires manual input from the outside?

Maybe it was timed, maybe it was autonomous, maybe they switch with one another and they have something else that kept them from aging.

Questions for another time.

The elevator opened and he led me to the platform leading to the Vault, but when I took my step, it seems the game happened.

What the player can do to Elijah, Frederick did to me. Just without the turrets activating though.

He grinned a toothy grin.

A sigh escaped my lips.

"Really?"

"Enjoy your starvation."

He wanted me to go berserk or something, I responded with materializing steak on a platter. Still hot.

"What starvation?" I asked while motioning as if I was about to cut the steak, then a saturnite knife appeared in my hands and separated the steak.

He stood dumbfounded.

I stored the knife and drew out a nuka cola instead, downing it after I carefully bit off the cap.

"Enjoy your stay." He turned around and went to the elevator.

I can always melt the metal around the PRB with plasma, why hadn't he thou— oh, right. He doesn't know.

Before that, LOOT!

I pushed the slightly ajar door.. I saw Dean Domino sleeping in his Ghoul body wearing that dirty tux without the slave collar.

I don't care, all the gold vanished into my inventory then I injected a packet of nanites on the terminal that will trigger the vault door to lock up. I did the same to the other two terminals that controls the turrets and the door.

I got out and then melted the metal walls around the door of Photonic Resonance Barrier with plasma. Stepping with a wide berth, I got back to where Sinclair previously stood. Though its unsafe and I could fall into what looks like a deep drop, I have jetpack. I can come back up.

I took my time disassembling the PRB and melting off the stair, making sure Dean can't jump and get a chance to escape.

But suddenly he woke up, he was furious the gold was gone and he can't access any of the terminals. Then he saw me and expletives flew, he tried to shoot me. Fuck knows where that gun came from.

I left for the elevator. Which, as it turns out, was locked into place above.

I sighed again as I unloaded an overcharged plasma shot into the door. It didn't melt right away but it turned red.

Oh, yeah, forgot. This was supposed to be Dean's prison.

I took out Vengeance, the laser minigun, and unleashed it onto the door—

Motherfucking Sinclair made it out of saturnite.

Good thing I also have saturnite. I pulled out the knife in question and started hacking away at the red parts. Seems to work for a minute where I have to shoot it with overcharged plasma again.

Ten minutes and I have dismantled the door, the chunks went to my Inventory. I took out Vengeance again and switched it into focus fire, where it just fires one continuous beam, aimed at what I think is the elevator. When I reached the count of eight seconds, I pulled back. A few more seconds and hot molten slags fell down the shaft and down to fuck knows how much deeper down. I waited around for two minutes and a half, waiting for the few stray bits to properly fall. I did the same thing again and melted the elevator's floor.

Six or seven minutes and I was free to take a jetpack and slowly tear the elevator doors open. Which also happened to be fucking made with saturnite.

Thank God the actual elevator wasn't made out of saturnite.

I spent more than fifteen minutes making sure I was quietly opening the door. A switch of apparel into a power armor and I nodded to myself.

I got out and turned to see that Vera was awake and armed with a laser rifle. Sinclair was armored with the Reinforced Sierra Madre Security Gear, already pointing an automatic rifle at me.

"I told you I just needed to see the Barrier. Collect a sample. What did—"

They both opened fire.

I had to sigh.

Why the fuck is this world filled to the brim of children inside adult bodies?

"Really? A T-51b power armor and you fire twiddle dinks at it? What are you, a ten-year-old wanting to be a hero?"

They look like they're riding the ends of their adrenal rush.

Sucks to be them.

I hefted Vengeance and switch to spray and pray, "Do you rea—"

Frederick Stupid Sinclair fired again, shouting 'RAAARGH' in an attempt at becoming a Super Saiyan.

Vera was shaken. She's scared that I just stood there and took all their attacks and shrugged it off like a stranger watching a child throw a temper tantrum.

Oh, hey, if you look at it, technically it is true.

"You really want to die. How 'bout you Vera, want to die too?"

She shook her head frantically with a fear ridden face.

"Okay," I pointed Vengeance to Sinclair and fired a burst shot.

He fell screaming before I switched to a .357 and unloaded two to his visor.

He died while Vera held back her sobs.

I haven't found any anti-aircraft turrets of any sort so I guess I can fly us up and away from here. Or I leave Vera and come back for her after I finish the teleportation array on Big Mountain?

That works too.

I switch into tuxedo, "Vera I need you to go to cryostasis again. I'll be back with our ride out of here, until then, remain on cryo and do not get up."

She nodded.

I inventoried Sinclair.

"Now, before we do that, I need you to settle down first and let's see what we can do."

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

Vera was... skilled with her body. She said she was taught by women that Dean 'hired' and then some. By hired she meant, blackmailed. Just like what happened to her.

I also did a small session with her where she tells me what she can; of how everything in her life went so far. Where and when she thought things went wrong.

Then I, uh, showed her my appreciation that she surrendered.

Pretty sure I left her in a good mood, but with a bit more broken psyche. She'll need a real session with mom after I'm through with everything.

And, before you accuse me of being stupid charging while not listening to the radios; I was extremely channeling a tunnel vision okay? A week without sleep and having to DODGE every Ghost I see?

Okay... now,

I found out that there isn't a looping SOS signal tied to the Sierra Madre's opening broadcast. So not one soul will discover this place unless they hack the records in Big Mountain, if there -are- any records in the first place. Mentions on message logs, perhaps, but there probably won't be. They don't need to be attached to their test subjects after all. They needed to test equipment?

'Oh hey, look, Frederick Sinclair offered. Oh? He also needs this hush hush just like what we wanted? Great!'

Fucking retards. Not even doing proper documentation on their experiments, just relying on reports made by third party. This is effectively true if your view point is still that; This fallout is just like the game and is sticking with canon.

I can never tell the conceited fuck anything other than; "Omae wa mou, shindeiru." Then I'd forget them.

Your existence is already a wrench to the canon. Whether you want to follow it or not, you've already set things into motion. Ones that you may not have the capacity to comprehend.

Right now, I'm entering through the pipes where I think the night stalkers broke free from and spread onto the wastes.

But again,

This isn't canon.

Therefore, if the previous events are used as reference, there may not be night stalker or cazadores.

Still, I don't know how the cazadores escaped though. Maybe a few eggs were near the tesla coil towers were laid and they got jostled enough that they ended up rolling past the towers?

...Good enough for me.

Hmm... this pipe is awfully long and has no other split. What if it clogg—oh, right, this was probably to be used as an escape tunnel if I'm judging it right from the skeletons in the game, then some idiot left it open and there the night stalkers go.

I haven't encountered them yet, the night stalkers. Even if they are also invisible, I'm also invisible and this tunnel is just enough for a six and a half feet tall person and three feet wide enough that I could lean to the side.

No matter, I'll take the Stealth Suit and go through the tests to upgrade it then probably permanently augment it with nanites. Then forget about it in my inventory. Should also grab the proton axes.

Then I'll get the tri-radii valence oscillator. I'll probably collect every single component to upgrade The Sink then start on using the Sink Central Intelligence on whatever I can do.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

"Is the line good—oh, hey, how's the armada?"

"Still doing the same thing for two months now." Moira answered back, not once stopping her tinkering judging by the sounds.

"Alright, anything I need to know?"

"The enclave made a desperate move and abducted the synth you've helped. Now they're all evacuated at Adams Air Force Base. The synth said something about why it should've been you that they've abducted."

"Eh, I can't be bothered with, I have to finish the teleportation array and a lot more." It's also a good thing it's Harkness that they've abducted, they just committed suicide by doing so.

"Oh, Catherine said she's finished the cryopods and theee... VSS simulation pod integrations?"

"That... wow, say to my mom I love her. She's a genius. Wait, maybe I should tell her. What are you doing anyway?"

"Finishing the frame and the tools that will encase your mom's project as well as integrating mine and your other projects to -somehow- make it foolproof."

Then... that would mean—

"Moira, if I could fuck you silly right now—grnnnnnnnnnnnnnn—you make me cringe! Are you telling me we effectively have a single personnel carrier that can—"

"Fly, shoot, hide, protect our mind and body, then extend our lives? What am I, a high school student preparing for a science fair from the 21st century? Of course not!"

What? But—

What the fuck?

"But what are yo—"

"I'm making a perpetual war machine."

"When I get back I will fuck you into oblivion, you hear m—"

"Just, get back already then." Moira decided to drop the connection.

I tried to shake off my giddiness, found that I can't.

My attention was now turned to BR14N and BR41N, I'm using what was around the Sink. I'm relaying orders to them, and by extension, the whole of Big Mountain.

Turns out, every single one of the scientists had chosen to become a think tank and had their brains scooped out. Standard Big Mountain procedure for permanent tenants. Those that aren't ready for it, they get shifted to Area 51. An area of radioactive wastes right now.

And not like with the game where the scientists kept functioning even when there was no longer a direction to their actions; these scientists, the now turned think tanks bots, were forced to enter into self-induced coma states. I had to properly boot them up and present myself as a higher authority to them.

Me waking them up means I was already some Head of some department to have clearance to be capable of even waking them up... is what they told me. And with me waking up all of them, I was assumed to be the "Chief of Directors" of Big Mountain. The position sounds fake to me.

Still, I got them do anything I want; improve my nanites to include the few functions they can from Crysis, then prepare it for mass production. At the same time, I have them to work on making my NEBARTO designs a reality. Next to that was a project for them to make ceramite, plasteel, and adamantium. Then, finally, the Gene-Seeds. It's for a long-term project and I'll use it on myself after I've solved the impending doom from the Zetans.

For now, I'll finish the teleportation array and then I'll repurpose the Securitron factory. -Then- I'll go to Usanagi and get implants, as well as other things I could.

Side note, Zetans haven't destroyed any satellites; thank God for that.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

I still remember the first time I laid my eyes from outside the X-13 facility, I almost lost my shit to cackling like a mad fuck.

Everything looks untouched!

Considering this isn't a game, and you'll get to be in my shoes; everything seems functional!

Now if you killed Mobius or plan to, then you're a dumb fuck. He created the robo-scorpions. The very same robots alongside handymen that, according to what I see, do the maintenance of the whole Big Mountain as of 2095 and had commenced hibernation at 2234 where there seemed to be nothing that drives them as a whole from their collective reports.

This isn't canon.

Mobius insisted that they do a self-induced coma, decades before the roboscorpions followed with their own hibernation at 2234. With a yearly boot-up to ensure the facilities are up to par on the roboscorpions' part.

And now I've permanently woken them all up. Given them purpose, a drive, a direction that they can follow and do.

I've ordered the Sink Central Intelligence Unit to begin the conversion of The Sink, just the entire floor, to be properly and safely converted into a mobile ship; I'll move it or attach it to a Zetan ship.

Imagine my surprise when the whole Think Tank's dome was already a giant spaceship. Just that, they never finished making it space worthy when all their human fellows perished. I had them begin completion alongside a few of my ideas.

Right now, I'm fixing the coordinate system, mapping feature, and geo-synching with the myriad of -miraculously still functional- dedicated Big Mountain Satellites. Most of them were for communication, some were for data storage, some were for general use, and the very few were for tracking targets or whatnot that they wanted to observe.

I've had the 23 tracking satellites take scans of the notable super powers and the results, were grim...

What looks like Mechas are all over japan and the entire southeast asia, China continued its dynasty style of ruling and had fortresses that look like the old Chinese palaces with advanced technology.

Russia and Europe's charred to the bedrock, almost every ten kilometers a nuke struck, if this was due to the Great War or subsequent launches in later years, I don't know.

Africa's a bit off. There's no sign a nuke ravaged it, a few might've struck true, but that's it. The strange thing is, it's covered with green. Forest. There better be no mutated shit or Africa's the real Wild Wasteland, except it's one huge continental jungle.

Australia has a few pock marks of its own, a hundred or less, but became a central port to almost everywhere. The almost all of continent's shoreline is riddled ports; with either proper docks and ships, or some makeshift docks with dingy and rickety boats.

South America is, in a word, a warzone. Tribes and towns everywhere. A true wasteland where if you're alone, you're already dead.

There's the barely recognizable Canada.

But North America, every single landmark known is either standing in defiance or erased into crumbling dust.

House seems to be well off and is doing some -real- progress. But if he becomes that megalomaniac obsessed with control and being in position of power where he can orchestrate things, my own version of Yes Man will be there.

And wooh, just in time, I think I can port into anywhere I point the satellites now.

Hmm... Let's see—

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

—yessss, boi. Success.

But...

Do I even have enough caps? Let's... oh, wait. So, I have some other not so well-known brands and a few other things that resemble caps; totaling at... 109,166. That's a lot of products that used a cap of sorts for commercial use. How'd I get so many anyways?

Ah, but I'll have to first convince Usanagi to just sell me the implants and not install them... then again, I can probably get them analyzed with my nanites after she's implanted them to me.

Maybe I should hit the casino and exchange for NCR Bills?

Sounds good to me.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

You know, entering the Freeside, it showed me what the heck happened here.

Everyone, everywhere, however you'd look; you'll see a squatter. There are upstart merchants, but that's it. There's a lot of homeless people wandering around.

Then there's the mother fucking scumbags that make it worse. Already gangbanged me in broad daylight.

Not one person knows me. Nor will they know me, I have my featureless helmet for that. Complete with the tri-radii valence oscillating around my head. They thought it was good to shank someone that looks like he has power armor. The bullets just bounced off the stealth armor. I didn't even need to activate any of the kinetic dampeners.

They died with an audience, bloodcurdling screams escaping from their throats as my nanites tore them apart, cell by cell. I would've preferred it to be molecule by molecule but will take too long.

By the time they're nothing but paste, I was well into the New Vegas strip.

The Securitrons cleared my passage with me presenting the sack of bottle caps that I've then decided to lug over my shoulders.

Ultra-Luxe is the best choice so I just have to first change my armor into the tux I found from the Tampico Theatre. I left the helmet and tri-radii on. Makes for some intimidation when I do play on their tables.

"I need to change these into chips, get a room, and access to some fine relaxation." A few sacks thumped against wood and the receptionist called some help.

"Very well, the counting process will require at least an hour. Would you like immediate access to your room?"

"I'm fine. I'll watch some game and sit on a table somewhere. I can't be that hard to find with these three halos."

"Please enjoy your stay."

So, why Ultra-Luxe? They have high prices on all shit they have. And with the Strip being a hub of sorts for various people to meet, Ultra-Luxe with its -clean- and -presentable- atmosphere draws enough. The other two's sullied. One reeks of corruption and gangsters, the other offers the wonders of the female physique and an even worse case of corruption.

Ultra-Luxe stands in between with its -reformation- from cannibalism and the image it had already built up. Although some would disagree, some gambler would just say; to each their own.

Now, letting the helmet stay on my head helped me by a fuckton. One, I can conform to their -image- where they wear masks. Two, which is the most important of all, I have an AI recording and analyzing everything the cam sees.

The AI, surprisingly, was not hard to make. I just had to recreate parts of my omni pip, the data cores and memory array, then connect it into a miniature fission battery. The think tank offered to make it better and I now have what looks like data crystal chip that Master Chief slots in on his Neural Implant.

My featureless helmet though, it was a bitch to make. While saturnite does wonder against firearms, enough plasma shots would fry my head.

Remember, saturnite holds in the heat for almost a day if it absorbs something near to its melting point. Thankfully I had the bright idea of just using carbon-titanium and a few tungsten strips. I can probably take a .50 BMG to the face with the helmet and live. I'd be disoriented as fuck with the helmet damaged beyond usefulness. But that's where the kinetic dampeners enter.

Using the method of how a stealth boy creates an ozone that bends and refracts light, the Think Tank managed to create a tangible field of sorts that 'disperses' kinetic energy, I helped.

Yet the power consumption is shit. For just the punch of a teenager, I'd need almost five hundred microfusion cells to negate it. But then, I didn't need to negate the entire kinetic energy. I need to dampen it, to lessen it to an agreeable level. It cut down the power cost to almost half.

Somehow, I don't know why, but it turns out that a tesla coil array used as foci solves the problem and then some. I can completely negate smaller firearms for the price of a microfusion cell.

And I have a device that can supply power through quantum tunneling.

And I have over a thousand of microfusion breeders.

Call me a walking nuclear power plant.

Sadly, microfusion breeders run out of fissile material just after a year of regulated use. If I use it as frequent as you get into combat situations like with the game (read: Overuse), then I'd have to say goodbye to them with just after a day and a half of continuous usage.

I won't worry though, there's a reason why I want theta energy so much. The Zetans have it and it will extend the life of microfusion breeders into a hundred years even with constant use. Perhaps more if I find its Goldilocks zone with their theta energy cells.

If that isn't enough, then allow me to introduce tri-radii's function. It collects ambient energy and sends that energy as harmless microwaves to the subject's nervous system. Not necessarily the brain. From that transmission, it energizes the body, seemingly uplifting them and boosting bodily functions. Although too much exposure is lethal for the pre-war human, it's made only for 'shock and awe tactics' and medical purposes. But majorly for healing the body.

"Sir, here are your chips, your room key, and your pass to the sauna bath and relaxation package you've ordered." Some goon said from my left.

They hand out chips at denominations more than ten thousand? That's, what in the fuck do I not know about the wasteland's economy and how can people afford upwards of ten thousand chips?

"Thanks. Can you get me some sarsaparilla or some wine?"

"Alright. Would that be all?"

"Yeah."

He nodded and went away.

Now, as far as I know, a stim pack costs more than a hundred caps but no higher than three hundred. Then there's the cost of a dirty bottled water, because everything's irradiated, everyone just accepted the name even if it was just treated water. Still, there's radiation in it and costs around twenty to fifty caps. A 10mm pistol costs upwards of one fifty depending on quality, a single bullet is worth no less than five caps. From then on, as the caliber rises, the price changes. But then, any armor costs no less than a thousand if bought; if sold, it starts from a hundred caps then negotiation will raise the caps from that amount.

Provided there's the currency from NCR, the businesses and the like, the average daily earning and spending; I still can't see how the fuck people afford ten thousand chips.

Sure I can afford them, but what about their regular patrons? How fucking much many caps are out there?

Ah, fuck it.

I'll start playing.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

So, it turns out there's been a fuckload of sarsaparilla bottle caps all over Mojave and settlements nearby. When some group of people stumbled upon it, well, they turned smarter than anybody out of sheer greed.

They went and placed their eggs on a lot of baskets and scattered those baskets onto different tables. So to speak.

No one knows who they are anymore, but they jumpstarted the idea of business and having a lot of wealth in every man in Mojave.

Then the NCR came.

Everything went into an economical peak from there. Trade, farming, conscription, what have you.

Oh, there's still killing and shit you don't want to imagine happening to anyone, but the idea of business and massive wealth never went away.

Raider gangs still are raider gangs and they suffer heavily from the NCR. But the other, more civilized and morally passable gangs, if anyone in the wasteland really is, followed the idea.

If you're wealthy, you can afford to throw around more bullets. If you're wealthy, you can fuck a lot of people by paying mercs to skip buying the bullets yourself.

Our resident megalomaniac triumphantly monopolized on their greed as he finished setting up the Strip to start the flow of people and money. He even reintegrated the idea of bonds and stocks.

This seems that the Mojave wasteland's a bit less bloody, but no. It became much bloodier.

In the name of wealth, gangs waged war against one another and looted whatever they could from those who lose. Then they'd expand using the loot.

Imagine that.

Then add;

Robert House with his upgraded Securitrons and his control of the Hoover Dam, an NCR encampment near every settlement, startup gangs that looted whatever they could, and people who just want to live to the end of their days.

A grim picture, someone might say.

But then, enter Caesar.

He has no place in the Mojave. Oh, he fucking tried. He persisted. But he just ended up giving a means for the gangs to get wealthy.

Bounties, looted gear, and whatever they could scrap clean. Caesar was forced to retreat and make do with his territory. His ideologies were ineffective in the face of overwhelming zeal for wealth. He was not fighting House or the NCR. He was fighting the greed of everyone in the Mojave.

You can't fight greed. But you can control it.

That's what Robert Edwin House did, apparently. Having a factory that makes a robot army for you helps in more ways than one. Especially if you control the power supply; another form of House's control over human greed.

It seems that all he wants is control, based on what I've gleamed from just mingling with these high-profile people.

But I don't fucking need that control over greed right now. I need to fucking fuck up the motherfucking motherfuckers that caused all this shit to happen in the first place.

THE MOTHERFUCKING ZETANS.

I have enough money of over a few millions by beating these rich as fuck people. Normally, not a single person would want to try their hand at poker to beat someone who's done the same to a few others.

But my silver tongue spat the honeyed words that tickled their minds, their imagination, and that greed, their zeal for wealth.

I gave them ideas.

Circus where you just pack up and leave when one place grew tired of your shit. They were fascinated with it.

A trade center where you can find almost anything, except its all fucking mobile. I suggested it when I found out that someone made a car for the NCR. It was just a matter of letting them connect the dots from Brahmin caravans to a dozen cars, a mobile shopping center, capable of selling almost anything.

And then the greatest idea of all; Manufacturing and vague ideas about price control and sabotage.

I went telling them something along the lines of, "Someone needed something, why not find a way to make more of it and sell it a stable price? You'll get more customers without doing anything except earning profits at a decreased rate. Sure you won't earn as much, but there's a lot of people who can't afford that one overly priced item. What if they suddenly can buy it, even better, buy it from you? You'll be earning patrons! Then slowly increase its quality to earn credibility, then the price."

Then I spewed some more.

But I was running out of my self-allotted time.

I cashed out.

Just my luck, they provided briefcases for only one hundred NCR dollars. I didn't care and just let them do what they suggest. I can do an approximate count so I'll know if I lost too much from their sleight of hand. I made more than I need. I'll be getting out of here.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

I had a lot of briefcases, I shocked them when I stored it away. But soon was waved as flashy psyker powers. Something I need to look up.

The walk to Usanagi's clinic was uneventful.

Just one problem.

She isn't here. There was no clinic. So, I checked on their fort on Freeside.

Found her. Problem is, as she says, her auto-doc isn't functional. I proposed a trade. She gives me whatever she can on top of the implants and I will give her one hundred thousand NCR dollars, a thousand stim packs, and a Wasteland Survival Guide. It's first pages were aimed for the common folk, the rest was for those who need the research. It costed Moira a few chunks of her inventory stock but it was worth it to produce.

Usanagi seemed skeptical of where I would pull those shit from and I just interrupted her doubt speech on me when I materialized all I mentioned plus a switch of my tux into my armor. I still had the helmet on.

She agreed, thankfully.

As a bonus, I repaired the Mark I Auto-Doc. She handed me several hermetically sealed boxes that I think contains the implants.

We discussed several things that she wanted to know, as well as Julie Farkas joining in. I'm not seeing Arcade though.

I learned a few from them, but they received a crapton from me.

Our discussions were settled, with a few haste on my part, then I made my way to the gun runners' shop.

I purchased whatever I saw I could, quite possibly, have the think tank mass produce or at least make an improved version of.

A few mental commands, a return code was sent.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

I do not know whether to be happy or angry, that this is NOT canon.

Oh, I got every single [Fallout: New Vegas] implants alright. Reflex Booster, Empathy Synthesizer, Nociception Regulator, Logic Co-Processor, Probability Calculator, Phoenix Monocyte Breeder, Optics Enhancer, Hypertrophy Accelerator, and NEMEAN Sub-Dermal Armor.

But it wasn't just those.

Remember how I wanted to play a different installation from the series?

There are things I want to acquire. Specifically, the implants from other installation and a sample of Lorenzo's blood. And anything else that I can get my hands on.

As of now, I have all the implants I could ask for. Usanagi gave me the Dermal armor, Dermal Impact Assault Enhancement, Phoenix armor implants, and Phoenix Assault Enhancement.

But lo and behold! The moment I fucking stepped inside Think Tank and shown them every implant I now have, they just fucking said they could have made them from the plans and schematics from their data banks. All part of my request on the Gene-Seed and Spartan enhancement; They said.

I almost erupted.

I was just gone for a motherfucking day and night.

Then they'd just up and tell me, 'Oh, hey uh, we've already finished those stuff in project cyborg, thought you might want to knowandstuff, cheers!'

I would've dismantled the entire cybernetics division then and there.

But this speeds things up.

I still do not know whether I should be thankful or not, for the fact that;

This isn't canon.

Their research and its subsequent success would just need a little touch of FATE and CHAOS, then I'd either be in Halo or Warhammer.

They already have working prototypes of the gene-seed organs, or a near version of it and also that; they are still cybernetics but already acts like it's an organ made of flesh. The organs made entirely of flesh are being cultivated under study for genetic improvement.

Then there's the successful Orion Project they have. A few calibrations here and there; then matching it up with my genetics and it'd be exactly as the SPARTAN-II Program.

...

...

..I really want to vent my frustrations right now over the wasted effort, but I can't say no to free stuff—

My omni pip rang.

/Accept.

"Jack?"

"Oh, hi mom. How're you? I'm undergoing cybernetic enhancement right now."

"...You said we will do this under my supervision." She said, a little stern.

"Mom, it's the only place that they have fully functional auto-docs. This one's the latest, just updated the last century."

She sighed, clearly resigned. "Fine. I've finished the integration by the way. The VSS Simulation pod and the designs of our own Cryo pod as well as those you've sent me, are ready for mass producing provided we have the materials. For now, two are made, fully functional and ready for long term use. As well as the adjustments for possible improvements, attachments, maintenance."

"Have I told you that I love you? If I hadn't, well, I love you mom. You're just brilliant."

"I love you too Jack. But, Moira might've misunderstood something and made three of whatever those are."

"They're the utility, defense, as well as the offense of our pods. At least she's made it capable of flight. Good for travelling."

"That's not my point. I made one for each of us Jack, sh—"

"No, you made two for the both of you—"

"What, do you mean -us-? Jack, you better not be imply—"

"But I am. Mom, you know why I'm doing this. You know."

"Jack, a mother cannot just simply watch her so—"

"And I won't be gone. I will be hurt. Dragged to the lowest pit of hell and back. But I won't be gone."

"That doesn't mean you'll be safe." She insisted with grated voice.

"Mom, we are in an all or nothing situation. Do you want everything we've done so far to turn into nothing—all that work gone to oblivion?"

"—of course not—"

"Then let me do this. All or nothing. If we lose, then we'll have nothing. When we win, we'll have everything."

She dropped the call.

I'd guess she can't take it. And I know it's hard. Much harder on her, than it should be.

My attention turned to the staff, "Alright, begin those upgrades on the Orion Project and Genesis Program. I'll be expecting it by next week. For now, I need these implants installed on me. And someone get me a fully functional PIP-Boy 3000! I need VATS!" I ordered as I materialized all the implants.

They shouted in excitement, finally, they get research data and hopefully, succeed in extending my time in giving them a direction to follow.

A lot of emotion and conflicting ideas are swimming in my head, I need to finish this quick before I lose my handle.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

"I have DONE IT! REJOICE IN ALL THAT IS RICHARD FREEMA— I MEAN MOBIUS! YES!" Mobius, a think tank, the floating brain bot exclaimed as he finished every single project the Chief Director had assigned him, and then more.

"You! Assist me! Where is the Chief Director?!" Mobius screamed in his normative state.

"According to the network data, Chief Director is setting the preparatory stages of his own version of Project Cyborg into motion." The Mister Orderly answered as it calibrated and recalibrated the project they were told to finish. "AHA! Wondrous! Computer, direct me to the Cybernetics Division, Project Cyborg level!" Mobius moved to an elevated platform and hovered still.

From a flash of light, he alighted from the elevated platform he has been teleported into.

"Where is the Chief Director? Direct me!" Mobius hovered in his excitement requesting information from yet another Mister Orderly.

"Please follow."

Mobius was really excited. There were hundreds of them making progress again, and he just made a breakthrough!

The moment he got to the doors further into the level for Chief Director's Project Cyborg he felt he should bring his requested projects!

A few codes went through his array, into the network, and onto his mister orderly staff.

He proceeded with subdued excitement now. Afterall, he wouldn't want to lose the chief director's life through some failure on his part, could he?

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

Ugh, I feel sore.

What is—

||481 Missed call(s)

Oh.

Oh, n—

—Hm?

My head swiveled as I opened my eyes to look around.

I'm... in a recovery vat with... electricity pulsing through it at an interval of... 9 seconds?

Shit. Something must've gone wrong with the implant—

"Chief Director!" Mobius, well, screamed as usual. I think he hasn't taken my suggested dose of mentats for him again.

And why the fuck are they so small... I'm more than seven feet tall, am I?

"Richard, am I seven feet or so tall?" I asked the think tank who's frantically beeping, probably directing every single branch to push the projects now that I'm awake.

"Yes...? Dala! What are his measurements?!"

Dala? Shouldn't she be at the lobotomi—motherfucker. Did something go horribly wrong that they needed to lobotomize me?

"Eleven inches long; near four inches thick."

"The height, measurements Dala." I corrected.

"It stands the same when ere— ehem, Seven feet and three inches tall."

Damn it.

"Richard, why isn't Hanford the one leadin—you finished the projects? All of them?" I can't help but doubt. It's ridiculous.

"Of course! Most of the projects had already existed and were slated for improvements as well as a few minor adjustments. The problem was that, liters of coffee aren't supposed to be slathered all over each of them. It was a shame we can't make it work with coffee. But with your schematics, designs, hypotheses, suppositions, and theories as well as samples of other technologies; we've managed to finish it and beyond!"

"So, you decided to proceed with the next stage of project cyborg?"

"Not necessarily, but of course! You've pointed out that we can take our time but that we must also keep in mind that taking too much time may end up with us having no more time at all."

Well, this solves things. But it might have also made a few problems.

First, the time I spent. Next would be my height and weight. I might as well be incapable of pure stealth—"How long was I out?"

"251 hours, 46 minutes, 7 seconds. A few minutes of respite is suggested for a final full physiological scan and checking of organ integration and implant assimilation status." Dala responded.

"Implant assimilation?" The question went out my mouth and into the substance I'm submerged. Probably the improved version of biogel.

How can we understand each othe-

"Your nanites, while rudimentary, interacts with your biological condition to disassemble any kind of helpful or harmless implant that is then converted into an organ with the same function of the implant as was intended! However! when we've introduced the upgraded nanites, not only had it improved the conversion but outright turned it into an organ fully integrated into your central nervous system." Mobius explained as he played a holographic video of some sort that shows all processes, the old and the improved, side by side.

"What about the organ-implants from project genesis?"

"Fully functional and have successfully blended with your initial implants as well as the Spartan Augmentation." Mobius turned back to his duties.

I'm a walking death machine. The best of three worlds combined into me.

But in such a short time? It takes at least five to ten years for an Astartes to be considered fully adapted to his transformation into an space marine.

"How come I adapted and developed this fast? It should have taken at least five years."

This time, it was Dala who answered, "Chief Director, your biology is... astonishing. Even more so with the nanomachines working to boost it further. The primary tests conducted before implantation and surgery showed that your entire body repairs itself when exposed to ANY kind of radiation as well as the extreme efficiency with which it converted available nutrients to perform such function. Upon treatment with the upgraded nanites and submersion to a vat filled with the improved biogel showed that your body has yet again increased in its efficacy and efficiency. Any damage sustained was repaired within but a second; for as long as you were subjected under intense bursts of radiation or at least at a sustained minimal level of it, the effects persisted."

"Dala is right, and when we've isolated any possible sources of radiation and begun the implantation and surgery, the biogel worked against our wishes and helped your cells to initiate repair using the biogel as the nutrients.

"We were forced to stunt your regeneration to perform the entire stages of project cyborg simultaneously for fear of everything falling out of sync and causing maladies; from unwanted mutation to organ disfunction and shutdown. After 59 hours of precision surgery, correction, and monitoring, project cyborg entered the final stages. Hypnotherapy and data dumping began as per the project outline and details."

Damn. I'm glad the Big Mountain here is competent compared to the actual game. Again,

This isn't canon.

For that, I'm glad.

But it all suggests I was asleep for ten days. During which, a few unfavorable events must have happened.

Where's my omn— oh right, I took it off for this— but how have I interacted with the omni pi— a quantum tunneled connection? That— ugh, not questioning good shit.

I watched as both Dala and Mobius did what they have to do. As well as the teams of mister orderly going about and performing whatever it was they were told to.

Wait.

I'm inside a vat filled with biogel. A vat made with thick glasteel that can hold a super mutant and copius volumes of viscous biogel.

How the fuck can I see clearl— oh, improved senses.

No wonder I can also hear them. Lyman's ear at work and stuff.

Not to mention I'm breathing this biogel, maybe it's the multi lung at work or maybe my whole body working with my multi lung to have the necessary oxygen so I can breathe and respire?

Things to test.

Every single armor I have is now also useless due to my size, I need to make something bigger. As well as casual clothes, even some formal ones just for the sake of being prepared.

Adjustments can be made, sure, but that better be some damn adjustment capable of withstanding my full range of movement.

"HA HAA!"

A heavy sigh escaped my lips.

Mobius, for all the genius he has when not on mentats, is unhinged. Whereas on canon, he'd be even more unhinged when on mentats.

"Richard, something good?"

Dala butted in, "Not just good chief director, your advanced and heavily personalized pip-boy has allowed us to make a say, leap, in technology. One that Dr. Freeman and Collins have successfully implemented."

"You touched my omni pip?!" They shouldn't have, fuck, there's a lot of things— data or otherwise, store inside it. Even if I did finish integrating VATS Implant into me and the omni pip, the encryption's easy enough for Mobius and any other think tank to crack.

"Sorry Chief Director, rest assured we haven't touched any sensitive data files. As what Collins always say." Dala tried to apologize while she kept at their work.

I have to upgrade everything with regards to encryption later.

"MY TURN! We have the Think Tank space worthy! And all just because we are with a surplus of a vital component!"

"What is it?" the words seethed from me, I'm still mad about that shit they pulled.

"Coffee!"

Not this shit again.

"Urrraaaaghhh—...hhh, fine, what the fuck happened and why the fuck was coffee involved?"

"All the schematics were always splotched with coffee, either on or in the actual prints. But when we have successfully copied your advanced pip-boy's quantum capabilities, we tried to store all our data on a recreation of it! Then, with a spark of ingenuity, we tried to create more of it! But we lacked the processed resources, so we queried the blueprints of the recreated pip-boy to improve or substitute the materials used to create it! Then—"

"Where is this going? How is it related to the Think Tank's space worthiness?"

"Ah, that. We found that we shouldn't have been pouring coffee on the on-board circuitry responsible for thrusters and power distribution."

For all their being savant in science, they are utter idiots.

Savant idiots.

Idiotic savants.

Whatever.

"And how was, TAMPERING, with my omni pip related to the whole mess?"

"We created the LIFT Systems as well as the NAVV Systems that will be the basis of Think Tank's capacity for spaceflight." Mobius flatly said, his focus caught like a cat with laser and yarn ball with his... whatever it was he's doing.

But what the fuck was the connection between my omni pip and some way to use thrusters?

Something clicked on my vat; the shocks stopped and the biogel was drained followed by a crank where my vat opened—

"Everything works according to adjusted projections, further observation in progress." Dala said.

—and, okay, that is too much detail.

From every machines' quiet hum, the thrusters of every mister orderly, the hum of the two think tanks in front of me, and to pretty much everything within the level, I could perceive them.

Not sense. Perceive.

Because every functional human can 'sense' everything within this level, but that would be instinctual and that nugget is filed as a jumble of nonsensical data and would be disregarded along with other nonimportant data. They cannot consciously perceive some of it without proper training.

But I, on the other hand, can understand the sound, the smell, the vibrations I feel from the ground and the air, the ambient light, all of it was turned into one coherent perception. I can't identify how it formed, but I'd suppose it came from the culmination of project cyborg.

As for the actual new perception, well, I'd say it was the Byakugan from Hyuga clan, but it isn't. While I can't see more than 171 degrees in front of me, I maybe compiling and turning all the other data from my senses into useful information that becomes the perception that my mind then perceives. Like a sonar, but in 3D without the colors; like seeing things that has no colors. Not black, not white. Just a form or shape or sound that my mind somehow makes 'sense' of all the compiled perception.

I'll call it Omni-sense. An ironic near omniscience of the immediate surroundings. Sadly, I can't know the actions that someone or something will take... or do I?

...

...

...

I spent those ten seconds and can confirm that I can predict with more than 50% accuracy for the next 1 to 5 seconds.

Now if I wear armor over my skin, I might get stunted senses. Thereby, cutting my perception. Perhaps I can use this perception in a last-ditch effort or I train using it with full armor and see if I can make a rudimental version of it?

"Richard, do we have a craft capable of atmospheric exit and re-entry without sustaining 50% or more damage during both events?"

Mobius stopped for a second then, "Not a craft. But yes, we do! It's made based on the so-called Jetpack you gave us; attachable onto your armors. I'd say it's blocky so we made it into a smaller version sustained with nothing but your omni pip. Or at least, whatever manner of power production your omni pip does. I say it comes from microfusion breeders, and you will say I am right."

He is right.

"How about Mjolnir? Exo-Terminatus? NEBARTO?"

"All done without your size in mind. Collins said he's rather busy adjusting the Think Tank's defense and weapons system so you'll have to wait for it to finish. Perhaps the next three hours."

That's fast. And on all three different armors? Would that be simultaneous or sequential? I won't bother, just a few hours of being in the nude is fine with me.

"Where's my omni pip?"

"Up at level one."

I went to the elevator, good thing everything in Big Mountain's supplemented by saturnite and other strong materials. I probably weigh half a ton.

Wait a fucking minute. All three armors? Does that mean they already made ceramite and plasteel? Where'd they found the adamantium?

Hmm...?

BigMTFrameNetVXU?

That's, oh, I'm connected to the Big Mountain network.

Let's see—I need clearance? I'm the chief director, why would I need cleara—okay, that's weird, sure, just go away warning scree—Authentication successful? Ah, screw that, where's the—hmm, we can synthesize adamantium...

Does that sound cool or not? Because I know I'm a bit scared with Mobius playing around with adamantium.

Ceramite, check. Plasteel, check. Carbon titanite? What is this, Dark souls—hmm, ah, it isn't a titanite from dark souls; it's a titanium ingot chemically fused with carbon. Let's chalk it up to Big Mountain insanity and don't touch it until needed.

*ding

Where is it... alright, now, will you still fit on my arm?

O! It does.

||Booting up...

||Loading OMNI-OS

||Complete.

Now, what to— oh yeah, mom and Moira's bombarded me with calls.

/Call Mother.

||Waiting...

The line was picked up and was followed by mom screaming into me, "JACK! What happened?!"

"My implants took a while to sink in and fully integrate with one another."

"The enclave attacked, multiple times, on the citadel, megaton, and vault 101."

Shitshitshitshitshi-"Are you hurt? Have they caught you?"

Mom sighed before answering, "No. No. We only have one casualty. A recruit."

"Who?"

"No one important. But the attacks left the medical supplies strained, as well as other valuable resources. I tried to help—"

"How are your pods?"

"I'm already inside."

Ah. "Moira?"

"She wanted to finish her final project. I don't know what it is, she won't tell me."

"Any problems, did something bad happen?"

"Well, it's not bad per se, but... you know Moira's ERA and the mixture for adjusting it?"

"If you have somehow turned into a horrible mut—"

"Nothing like that! It, well, turned me into my early twenties while not losing any mass."

Any mass? But going younger mean less muscle bui—"Are you saying you got even more defined curves while looking just two years older than me?"

"Yes."

"..."

"..."

"So, you're smoking hot for a mom. What else?"

"I thoug— never mind, all the weapons, armor, and items of value are now stored on a separate omni pip. Including those genetic samples you wouldn't let me work on."

"Alright, I'm sending the coordinates to you and Moira, get here as fast you can mom. Take care, love you."

"Mm, just call again okay? Love you too."

The call ended.

/Call Moira.

||Waiting...

"...Jack, you better have some good explanation why I was experiencing a roller coaster of emotions the past week."

"...errr... I was undergoing surgery for the implants...?"

"It takes an average of 36 minutes for the body to either reject or accept the implants, and 10 minutes to calibrate it. What, you've had 490 implants and underwent continuous surgery?"

"Well..." damn, she's more worried than mom.

"Well, what?"

"I'll explain things properly later. Just, know that I am fine and is now seven feet tall."

"...You grew in size, proportional? Nothing out of ratio?"

"Yes."

"...okay."

Did she just thought of what I think she did? "Alright. Can you get your pod active after you finish your project?"

"Sure, but what will I do after that? Wait for you and feel unsure of your safety again?"

"No, no. I'll send you coordinates the same as I sent to mom. Since the pods can be cloaked, I'll assume you can travel in safety."

"I haven't solved the issue with the weapons but the stealth field and engines works fine."

"You and mom will be flying defenseless? What the fuck?"

"I'm working on it! Give me time."

"No. Where are you?"

"On my shop, the cockpit upstairs became too cramped and I had to expand the third floor to accommodate for the cockpit's weight and prevent structural collapse."

"Alright. Wait for me."

"When will you—"

"Four or five hours."

"—that's near. Are you using the jetpack? I'm not hearing anything."

"You'll be surprised. Just wait for me 'kay?"

"Alright, stay safe."

I ended the call.

/Call mom.

||Waiting...

"So soon? You miss mom that much?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I? Now, where are you?"

"The newly created brotherhood outpost outside the VSS."

"Did the Outcasts attack?"

"No. They stayed at their fort."

"Alright, I'll come over and uhh expect me to arrive in a few hours or tomorrow morning."

"You're coming back?!"

"Yep. So, wait for me please?"

"Sure, it's not like I can do anything inside the pod."

"Okay."

I dropped the call.

Hmm... Do I really need NEBARTO if I can perform everything else without it? The nanites are now capable of crystalline generation just like Crysis' stealth but also souped-up with stealth field module. Pretty sure I have been neurally enhanced, can tank low caliber combustion-based guns, and absorb insane amounts of radiation and even HEAL from it. That's the abridged functions of NEBARTO and I can do ALL of it WHEN naked. For real.

My feet carried me to the elevator and I set for level four.

I really think that I don't need NEBARTO, if not for its capacity to be upgraded into a version where you can outfit it with hologram emitters and nigh impenetrable shields. And then I need to have it upgraded before it starts becoming useful, I don't have the resources or the right convenient plot device for an SSPE. So, that's pass.

Even Mjolnir armor seems useless, the only thing it can offer is added protection, heads up display, the capacity to house warship AI, exit slipspace with relative safety, and allow the wearer to survive extreme impact-shocks. I already have those with my omni pip except the slipspace jig.

The Exo-Terminatus, I'd say it's for a juggernaut related thing. With it, I can continue battling for days against any number of enemies. But I don't need heavy armor and restricted movement. It's not indestructible but just extremely durable. I need maneuverability and versatility.

Having Mjolnir and Exo-Terminatus as armors leads to problems I don't want to be dealing with. There's the shitting, pissing, getting laid, taking a relaxing bath, blending in with a crowd, infiltration, and a lot more that I don't want to list. As I've said, versatility is needed.

Now that I think of it, have they started making the schematics I gave them?

"Subject seems to be engaged in extensive internal monologuing." Dala mouthed off through her voice box module while she hovered, circling around me.

"Dala, that's part of my role as the Chief Director. I have to internally monologue to better reflect what needs to be done. The discoveries to be made and the like, they all take extensive reflection if it would be achievable and maintainable for the foreseeable future."

"As you say Chief Director, I will add that to the other factors to be considered in the final analysis. But for now, I will continue unbiased observation."

I gave a shrug as she hovered.

Hmm...

I have certainly forgotten about Harold's blood sample, as well as Lesko's research into those fire ants. Lorenzo's blood sample is... kind of a moot point, I guess. Life expectancy for me is in the centuries, if not millennia.

But my body, right now, contains so many new organs. With a multi-lung, do I still need a rebreather? Do I even have implants anymore?

"Dala, are all implants turned into organic versions of themselves, are they functioning properly?"

"Yes, but some are not doing their intended functions. Some have melded or worked as one to perform even better than on its lonesome."

"Explain." I demanded as we made our way to Collins' level.

"All dermal and subdermal implants have coalesced into one carapace encompassing the whole body. Starting with the NEMEAN subdermal organ-implant, the epidermis is bolstered with nonferric iron, effective as a shock absorber and as a grounding mechanism should you come under the effects of lethal electric current. Upon the addition of the Phoenix assault armor implant, this tolerance improved to upwards of 10,000 volts. Your time in the recovery vats has shown this."

I can shrug off 10,000 volts— wait a minute, 10,000 volts, 1 amp, by 1,000 is 10 kilowatts and I can shrug it off without pain. Cool. Most humans would be a twitching mess on the ground, and I just... eh.

"Alright, what's next?"

"The dermal impact armor plates and its subsequent upgrades were subsumed into the organic carapace that your body can regenerate should it be damaged. In fact, we removed the implanted dermal implants and allowed your body to create its own. Its function vastly improved when the black carapace, of project genesis, melded with it. The formation, whether accidental or not, was a lattice that allows absorption of even greater impacts. Allowing the body safety from high caliber rounds. The melano—"

"—wait. Wait. You mean to say that even if I received a 7.62 to the face, I hardly will be damaged regardless of the pain? I know I'll at least receive a welt, but you mean literally nothing?" I mean, seriously, not even a mark? What am I, superman?

"Err, that is almost correct. Take into account that your skinvelope only covers so much and can only take so much punishment."

"Ah, right, not an invulnerable skin. And my eyes as well as my insides are still vulnerable."

"—Not as much, and not all are entirely vulnerable to a low degree, but yes. Your biology was the most interesting with the way it soaked up the nutrients to foist growth as much as it can before, during, and after the commencement of project cyborg. Every single organ became extremely efficient and shock resistant."

"I can withstand a lot of blunt force trauma even when those are targeted towards vital organs?"

"Yes."

"Alright, continue with the melanochrome."

We've made our way into an observation level of sorts overlooking the armors that I've requested.

"The melanochrome, instead of continuing with its function of protecting you from lethal amounts of sunlight, has replaced its main organic function. At the conclusion of the operation, it has finished development of a new function that works with the black carapace to protect against lethal electromagnetic forms of attack. At the time you awoke, it had fully integrated with your entire body."

"Very interesting. Anything more? We'll be here observing them finish my armors—you know what, just let me issue some orders for a moment."

My mind whirled into what seems to be giddiness. I can never be much happier for my connection to my nanites.

Why?

Think of the Elite Riot armor set, now turn it pristine. Looks good?

The Elite Riot Helmet I have in mind does much more. Try this; Nanovision from Crysis, Rebreather from both Fallout and Crysis, super-conduction memory processors, and your standard HUD. Can you imagine that? That's just the functions. Now, forge it with carbon-titanium, and tungsten; coat it with refractive gel for the whole helmet. Glasteel with reactive crystalline for the visor; I now have a tough helmet with a multitude of functions.

As for the Elite Riot Gear itself; for the entire duster, I'll have ceramite treated leather with saturnite threads threaded into the actual leather.

The armor pieces such as the braces, shoulder pads, back armor, knee guards, and toe armor; I'll have it made with saturnite and carbon-titanium. I doubt I'll ever need the bandolier and ammo belt in the original design but for the sake of functionality, I'll turn both into bandoliers of the same material as the duster. The recoil compensators on the arms can be improved with saturnite and titanium.

As for the Kevlar vest, I'll have it made with ceramite, saturnite, and carbon-titanium.

The pants and the gloves will be the same as the duster, made with ceramite treated leather and saturnite thread.

The shoes will be entirely ceramite treated leather with actual sewing but hermetically sealable to avoid unnecessary liquids seeping through.

As for the bodysuit I'll be wearing underneath, I'll have it the same with a closed-environ suit and some normal clothing.

It's an armor with the idea of Terrifying Presence.

/Compile. Send to Cybernetics Division Director.

||Complete.

/Send message: |Create the new armor from the schematics I sent.| Recipient: Director Collins

||Complete.

Already and I can see them prepare materials. For now, I'll just wear the adjusted NEBARTO frame— how long will the armor take anyways?

/Estimate Elite Riot Armor completion.

||... 1 hour 30+ minutes.

That's fast.

"So, Dala, anything else with my implants?"

"You have three hearts instead of two. One is responsible for ensuring enough nutrients and oxygen circulates the entire body. The other one is to be a backup. While the last one is for enhancing the function of both."

"Alright, that's an improvement."

"Following that, you now have two sets of lungs. The normal set, the one you have had since birth, has been implanted with enhancements that were supposed to give you the capacity to breath underwater. Your biology assimilated this function and turned the implants organic just like it did to others.

"The other smaller set would be the supposed multi-lung according to project genesis. With it being an organ already, it has mutated on its own under your biology as did many others. It copied the function of the primary set of lungs while enhancing its major functions."

I'm loving this version of Big Mountain more and more. As well as my mutative and adaptive biology, the Gene-seeds, and the spartan augmentations.

Dala took my silence as permission to continue, "Nothing more. The other organs only enhanced themselves, while the other implants fully turned into organs as if they were part of the organs you naturally had since birth."

I will be busy testing this against the Zetans, provided it is the Zetans.

"Well, if nothing else, continue your observations."

I'll wait for these armors and collect my weapons after.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

I walked out from the blue shimmer of the teleportation and then everything went to shit.

I was greeted with brotherhood weaponry.

Good thing turrets still recognized me and I'm well protected.

The shooting died down.

"Seriously?" I crossed my arms while the nanites fixed the pock marks left on my armor.

"W-who are you?! Identify yourself!"

Maybe my voice went a little bit deep, that the helmet's speaker somehow added to it, glowing red lenses, and towering presence isn't doing any good.

But come on, seriously? Shoot first, ask later when you can?

"You can ask my mother." Most of them reloaded and I dropped my arms to my side.

"And who is your mother?" Someone asked.

"The one that let you build an outpost here in the first place."

"Jack Balthazar, no last name, correct?"

"Damn right."

"You're a good liar, and looks like a synth at that."

WHAT IN THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?

"Really? You want to do this? I withstood all your fucking twiddle dinks going against me, even plasma did shit. What can you dick wads even do?"

"OPEN FIRE!"

Calming breaths, calming breaths Jack. Calm...

Plasma streaked and sizzled into nothing against my duster; leaving scorch marks. Lasers didn't even do shit against my lenses as they get refracted and reflected away. Any lead bullet that chose to land on my armor found that they lost momentum.

"STOP FIRING YOU TECH-HOBBLING MORONS! THAT'S MY SON!" Mom screamed from the top of her lungs and into the PA system.

My body's screaming at me to return fire, thankfully they've stopped and the urge mellowed out to just wanting to silently snap their neck.

A pod, a meter in width and two in length, hovered. The screen in its front showed me mom. Everything about the pod screams "Streamlined Alien Technology" but I think its mom and Moira's work fully blending with one another.

"You changed."

"Let's catch up some other time. For now, I think you'll be happy of where you'll go." I confirmed the command codes and confirmed one last time. "Although—ah, there. Wait for me again. I'll be there in a few."

"...Okay...?" Mom said, quite unsure of what I meant. Then I used her omni pip connection to mine and have her get teleported to the Big Mountain teleportation hub. I watched as Mom's pod get encased with a blue shimmer followed by a light hum then -poof- she's gone.

"Congratulations, the whole base is now yours and anything within it. Except of course, our personal effects." A few confirmations through the nanites again, and I was now in front of Megaton.

Megaton's... looking like shit. But I think the walls just became more thicker—wow, they finally got some turrets. Last I saw this place, Lucas refused to install the turrets even when I finished off Burke.

"Stay right where you are, I need you to state your purpose of visit and submit to a body check." Stockholm... well, garbled. He's looking like shit.

"Just like what you almost did to my mom? Fuck off, don't come near me with your gay shit."

"Jack?"

"Fuck you."

"Well hot damn. It is you. What you waiting for? You've got your jetpack. Scram."

I just teleported again. This time, just inside, a bit beyond the gate.

"Woah there, hold those hands up in the air." Lucas pointed his Chinese assault rifle to me.

"Now you're asking people to hold their hands up? Last I checked you just let them shoot your back. That's an improvement."

His grip on the rifle slackened and... he chuckled, "No wonder Stockholm let you in. Good to have you back... Jack."

"Ughh, still up with that? What are you, five? You got a kid man, grow up."

Looks like he will insist on playing the shit with me. Must've been stressful here.

"Anyways, you've got what I left with Moira?"

"Part of the reason why we're still standing as Megaton. Supplies are getting even more scarce but water's still working fine. Shep's brahmins provide us enough milk and the molerats lingering a little to the west is a bit overpopulated, so we get by."

"Hmm, well, expect some supplies to pop up the same way I did."

His eyebrow arched. "Won't that cause problems?"

"Nah, I got enough supplies to feed you all for a century. Probably. Or just maybe decades. Anyways, I'll have it delivered in a few days, two weeks at most. I need to visit Moira though. Smooth things out, we still have projects to finish."

"Alright. 'til next time Jack."

"Yeah. 'til next time."

I made my way to Craterside supply. The door was locked. So I wore the new jetpack—more of an ion-thruster pack now. Just a few seconds and I was knocking on the doors from the observatory balcony.

I slid the door open, hinges creaking, and made my way inside.

"Jack?" I heard Moira from down on the third floor. Making my way to the stairs, I felt the thing creak.

"Coming down! Just a sec!"

It can't support my weight.

Well, nothing a jetpack can solve. I flew downstairs, even if I have to tuck in my feet, I'd not fit. The doors were fine, but the ceiling's a bit... yeah you get the picture. Finally, I got free from the staircase and into the third floor. Being tall is problematic.

I took off everything and stored it. I'm now naked as fuck.

Strutting towards the bent over redhead, I slid my cock between her legs while my arms wrapped around her. I felt her tense.

"Didn't I say you'll get fucked stupid when I get back?" I tipped her head up for a kiss. She moaned into it.

"When did you get so, big?" she rubbed her legs around my cock.

"Just the past week. Enjoying yourself?" I reached in again for a kiss.

"Mmm, well, let me finish then we'll have se—sex."

By the time she almost finished speaking, I was already thrusting between her closed legs. "Can't wait. Will fuck, now."

"Oh—okay."

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

An hour of extreme fucking passed and another for fixing things around Megaton, I got me and Moira ready for teleportation as well as the myriad of things she wants to take with us.

When I teleported to Big Mountain's TP-Hub, I was greeted by my 21-year-old looking mother scowling at me and Moira who I'm carrying like a princess.

She's not happy but just grumbled while we made our way to the Sink. I think she's jealous and sexually frustrated. But until she drags me, I won't do anything.

Upon reaching the Sink, I started forming and finishing plans for whatever happens on my storming of those Zetan ships.

Mom and Moira finished their patches and tune ups on their cryo pods so they can afford to shoot down any would-be enemies.

These plans I am making are a bit expansive. Everything's based on my failure. Well, when I succeed, it's a bonus.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

It took three hours into planning, then I finished. Now, it's time to make some last-minute upgrades.

The elevator dinged and I rode down to the Think Tank to get some equipment from the think tanks. Whoever thought of their model names for those brain bots, I think they were high on mentats and med-x at the time. As well as the one who named the dome.

Wait a minute... am I drug resistant? If I am, well, there's a lot of drugs that can be useful in battle. Buffout is one, helps me have stronger blood circulation, lesser fatigue, faster stamina recovery, and enhanced strength as the combined result. Then there's turbo... I forgot about Implant GRX didn't I?

Cue heavy sigh.

Just my luck, I still can get it if I haven't.

On that note, have I turned the real VATS neural implant and connection into an orga—oh I did? Wow. Goodbye VATS facsimile, you helped me against Ghosts.

Hmmm... An organ that can emulate VATS, or bullet time as most would agree with, then Implant GRX on top of it?

I'm already as fast as most Spartans, if not faster, and as resilient and tough as a space marine. If not tougher. Considering both are without their armors of course.

"COLLINS! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?! I CALLED FOR YOU YESTERDAY!" My voice is... well, it certainly is louder than an Astartes' speaker when they're shouting battle cries.

"C-chief director! Right here!" Collins harmlesly flashed his holo-vivisector like a flashlight.

"Right; Hanford, Mobius, and Dala oversaw the operation and completion of project cyborg. You were in charge of ensuring the implants—and organs—I have you made, are functional regardless of possible rejection. Correct?" I mouthed off while I observed the collection of objects spread about on multiple tables in front of me.

"Yes." Collins answered, not stopping on his work on—... that's a shield isn't it? Would "heater shield" be the proper term? Its looks like capable of hydraulics; extend to become a tower shield? Eh, still. A shield. Can be useful.

"Was there an Implant GRX among them?"

"Yes. Hanford got the idea that it should be included after he made some experimental upgrades."

Well, I have an experimental Implant GRX. With the Implant GRX already experimental, Hanford got the bright idea to make it even more experimental.

I need to test it later. Let's hope my nerves won't get fried and my neurons to not degrade.

"Is this shield finished?"

"Extensive tests are yet to be conducted; some functions may not conform to Big Mountain standards."

Eh, good enough for me.

"Where's all the equipment you said were done?"

"Ah, please follow. We'll need to visit the armory."

"We already have an armory? BR14N said it would take at least three weeks to set one up on top of the renovations and repurposing of the whole Think Tank."

"Ah. That. I believe it was when Mobiu—I mean Dr. Freeman finished the nanite integration. Since then, every conceivable construction was done in scale that boggles the mind with its efficiency. THEN one of our experimental projects came back to us. The Self-Contained Matter Transformation Device, or, as your schematics refer to as Molecular Photonic Reconstruction Unit. Either ways, it vastly improved our capacity to produce and mine resources. Add to that your so-called Omni PIP. It was a monumental discovery that we, your subordinates, still have problems comprehending. Only Dr. Freeman and I has been able to work with it, even then, it was Dr. Freeman who has successfully integrated it to our entire systems."

GODFUCKING DID IT! I am among the most competent scientist ever since Fallout canon. All they just needed was me and my meddling.

"Here we are Chief, help yourself. All have been tested and vastly improved. I need to finish our weapons system and security detail. Enjoy."

"Eh, yeah, sure." I'm practically salivating.

I don't care.

Picture a seven-feet something tall man clad in an Elite Riot armor set; one specifically redesigned to terrorize and withstand extreme damage, armed with a heater shield and a fucking chainsword.

Said chainsword has its teeth blazing red with arcs of electricity flowing erratically and revs harder than the fastest engine you can think of in a chainsword.

I don't know about the shield, but I already can imagine myself bashing things with it.

And I can switch to just about any other guns ever developed inside Big Mountain.

Time to make a plan of attack.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

"Status?"

"Previous observations remain the same."

"Alright."

Talking with Mobius, Osborn, and Hanford bore fruit.

Since there is no crashed recon craft, nor would I be playing prisoner with them; the plan is to have me teleport into the magnetosphere and from there, I'll use my jetpack to enter a viable opening. Then disable any means of teleportation or transportation I can find OR just wreak havoc on their main force, all the while leaving behind nanite packs at points I deem important and can use against enemies.

Hijack ship components one by one until I reach the deck and override anything else from there.

Simple and can be adjusted or abandoned altogether as I go.

"Start the plans, I'll go now."

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

Could've said I didn't think this through enough.

But, as I engage my thrusters and perform what amounts into a suicide dive, you can't help but say it.

Then again— I was the one with the plan, wasn't I?

I found the deck.

Wonder why I was searching for it from space while suicide diving?

You guessed it. The fastest way of decimating an entire ship would be the scenario where and when I can take control of their entire ship from the deck by flooding the controls with nanites.

So—!

I fired a burst from my overloaded recharger laser pistol and hurled it towards the glass like panel. If I was an average human, that throw wouldn't have done it. But we're talking about someone who can take on a fully armored Spartan, that's me.

The recharger pistol exploded upon forceful contact with the glass, weakening it and allowing— my body crashed through, their artificial gravity pulled on me and I followed through with a roll; already, a chainsword was whirring and crackling on my hand, blazing red with heat and overflowing arcs of electricity. The heater shield made way for a way to block initial shots.

I should be surprised my forced entry worked. They have energy shields the size of a ship after all. Again,

This isn't canon.

You can't always have an energy shield activated for so long covering a large area. The power consumption is exponential. If there were more convenient plot devices, I'm sure the enemies would've had it.

I slammed hard on VATS. Bullet time was sustained with Implant GRX, greatly extending my duration.

With a jump I was airborne and already within a few paces in front of what seems to be the Captain of the ship. A simple burst from the jetpack and I was moving forwards.

My chainsword was very happy to meet his unprotected face. As I watched him get mangled, I started materializing nanite packs and sending activation codes.

With everything still slow under bullet time, I spun with the arc of my swing and burst forth with the jetpack. The heater shield on my left hand met alien face, I can see the others were unholstering and already pin-pointing me.

I've landed.

Sidestepping to my right, I swung out the chainsword while torqueing my body with the arc of my swing again to face the Zetans—

Motherfucker.

I saw Aliens were teleporting in without using the Zetan teleportation matrix!

Worse, they aren't fucking Zetans!

NOT ZETANS!

They look silver and gaunt, insectoid even, armed with what looks like a plasma-regulated photon ray. They have wings of the same make. Much worse, they're moving as fast as I am in bullet time. I would have been thankful if it was the ceph, at least them I know. These new ones, I DON'T— It seems their reaction speed isn't the same with their move-speed. My reaction time is, I think, at 0.09; stack VATS on top of it? Perhaps I can react as fast as 0.0001?

I revved the chainsword into its sub-normal speed, facing them with my shield, and charged. They must be funneled lest they overrun me.

My electrified and hissing red chainsword met some shielding. Far stronger than that of a Scatter Fields LPS, if judging by the way the force of my attack was absorbed yet Newton's law still compelling the chainsword to bounce away with equal force. The alien didn't even budge.

But then, I saw the arcs of electricity the chainsword left. A reaction. Good or bad, I need to see its full effects before I run out of bullet time.

They are swarming me.

I slunk into a flowing flurry of raging attacks, never once letting them hit me or my armor except the heater shield and chainsword.

Perseverance was my strength against these enemies and it bore fruit while I answered in retaliation. The chainsword connected to its elongated and slightly arched neck, the energy shield became visible then it fizzled to allow my chainsword unobstructed path to cleave through.

It died.

A grin must've split my face, my attacks were becoming faster than before, filled with measured manic excitement.

28. That's how much their shielding can take from my strikes. Where upon reaching 27, I can cleave through them on the 28th.

My heater shield is getting red from the heat of their plasma-like blades. But my chainsword remained the same. Just much more damaging as they dished out more heat into it.

Then the Zetans fired.

Not wild firing where you just point and shoot. This was precision firing. Where this weird alien thing is on my side, I'll find it shifting ever so slightly, then an energy discharge will collide with my armor.

Like a hive mind.

It explains their advanced attacks that I seem to be always almost caught— I'm running out of bullet time and I'm getting overrun.

Where my flowing attacks flow from one form onto another was my decimating them, it turned into an unending barrage. I've found out their behavior and limits, time to exploit them.

I jumped from one enemy to the next, never caring if they died or not, so long as they get hit; I switch.

I kept track of which one's reached the limit on its shield, which Zetan is more likely to be successful on their next shot, it was not easy. My attacks were made to disrupt their actions, current and subsequent.

Just before bullet time ended, only one weird alien remained.

This one was bigger than the others and stopped shooting its ball of electricity. It may have been plasma, but the moment the projectile got near the chainsword was the moment the chainsword received a short recharge as my hud informed me.

It received no respite, my shield bashed at it every time it showed hints of trying to shift away. And when I've had it otherwise, the chainsword boxed it in.

Bullet time ended.

One more strike struck true and I've felled the thing.

Curiosity piqued, I allowed the mouth piece of my helmet to recede as I grabbed a chunk of its flesh or whatever it is and placed it in my mouth. The mouth piece closed.

The implanted organs acted, more than what I think it should do— I gulped it down.

My second stomach let it pass into my primary stomach where it was dissected and broken into useful resources.

||Sample acquired. Alien life form is artificial, possibly deployed as sentries or guardians by its creators. Unknown connection to Zetans or Ceph. No matches found from Mass Effect or Halo.

I slowly calmed myself.

Looking back to where I entered, the destroyed tall glass like panel, I see that some sort of stopgap has been used to cover the problem.

I made my way to it and withdrew a wonderglue. For a minute, I slathered all over the area of what I've broken through and let it cool. A jury-rigged repair.

Let's check if I have control of the ship.

Hmm... Nope, not yet at least.

Aaaaand, look at that, the ships are withdrawing to get better shots at this ship.

All according to plan.

Oho! It exited Earth's magnetosphere! Any momen—

Five ICBMs, all primed and ready, appeared from blue shimmers; directly a hundred meters from the other ship—there we go.

Other ships; dead by nuclear destruction.

Let's wait a few more for the double-tap.

Three more ICBMs popped up from that blue shimmer aftereffect followed by its quick detonation.

Collins and Osborn surely worked themselves to get that precision.

Wait for a few more to let the debris clear up and see what's happened.

...

...

...

...

It's destroyed. Hopefully that light show will be just that. Light show. Even if people see this ship or the wreckages drifting away, they can't get to either. There is no technology currently available to ferry them.

Except, of course, the Big Mountain.

If there was, then they'd have done something already.

Well, time to cleanse this ship.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

I grunted as the matte black-purplish insectoid alien hung limp and slowly pulled its swords from my left waist and right shoulder. This one was far larger and smarter than the common sentinels. But it still thudded to the floor.

Nanites can only repair my armor so much in so little time even with a lot of resources. The Zetans have seemingly infinite ammo like in the game, but waits for a long time should their timing be off. Their guns were a mix, not in the sense of hybrid guns but in the sense that there were guns they wielded that clearly indicate it belongs to the creators of the other aliens, the sentinels.

The engine core is a place riddled with mess of bodies, destroyed weapons, and other such equipment not essential to the whole ship's integrity.

Finally, I've cleared the entire ship of its inhabitants. For the tedious part I now have to collect every piece of technology I can get my hands on.

Fighting with these sentinels never afforded me the respite I needed. More so when they just teleport whenever and where-ever they deem necessary. But I've killed the last of them. It has been an hour since their reinforcements stopped. The Zetans were quick to be disposed of, their scatter fields LPS was vastly susceptible to intense heat and high voltage driven at near Mach 2 with a chainsword revving on their shields at a rate of 96,200rpm.

I'd say it was a walk IF it were only Zetans. But they have these strange alien sentinels helping them. These sentinels can pierce through my armor provided it was the larger variant attacking me. And from them, I may have discovered a radioactive material they are using in their technologies.

My kinetic dampeners never worked against their plasma-like blades or their energy weaponry.

The next thing that added complication to everything? Four people held captive on what seems to be specialized cryo pods right under the platform leading to the entirety of the cryo labs. Their cryo pods weren't simple cryo pods. They were held inside the normal pods but over it is a field of quantum super positioning. Never allowing for a chance of escape or breaking it down.

I left them there; three men, one woman. The ship must first be properly secured. After that would be the set-ups and on the fly repurposing as I make sure everything really is secured.

I called up the map and started plotting my waypoints for a more efficient and faster course of action.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

Alright, every single thing not nailed or epoxied to something got deposited to a separate omni pip for the Think Tank to sift through.

The whole ship has now been littered with handy man and mister orderly by the hundreds.

Mobius wanted to use his roboscorpions but I denied him. He'll accidentally drain the whole ship of information with one wrong zap from a roboscorpion. Probably.

The Zetan drones were also pacing about almost every corner.

Repurposing and cataloguing as well as researching into everything else in the ship was conducted. Not that we are on a deadline but the entirety of Big Mountain told me to not waste time and finish as fast as we can so we'd be able to terraform Mars already.

So, we barred no holds. Once again, every single computer was blazing with trajectories that would've made our timeline for this to be more complex as it goes.

Every single piece of tech, gadget, equipment, and miscellaneous items were sent to the labs for study, possible integration to our existing technology, and upgrades that will benefit us.

Translation and documentation of every single data was already nearing the tenth of the total we've found thus far.

As of now, my concern wasn't on any of those. It was on freeing these four prisoners.

So far, we have about 2% of the lock on the quantum field that held them. As it is in a state of dual existence, I can't just brute force it. I need to map the entire lock and only then can I start forming a key. I'll let the think tank finish the mapping.

I have to focus on something else.

Namely, on adapting my body to extremes. And while I can see that I did good with ridding this ship with their former occupants... I think I'll do shit against a real ultramarine and a Spartan. When against them at their best and with me without power armor, I can make them walk circles but never once dealing true damage.

I need to improve without the armor, then I'll see about getting the best Mjolnir Powered Assault Armor or CryNet Nanosuit 2.

On that note, I should start my wasteland purging. I have nothing better to do until Big Mountain finishes copying the artificial gravity from this ship.

Maybe it's safe for Vera to get her nanite treatment.

So much work to finish with little of my focus to give.

I'll work with little steps.

Get Vera to Big Mountain, give her nanite treatment, then; go back to Capital Wasteland, start the purging, accumulate good reputation, do the same to the Commonwealth, maybe give Dala her fun with the Institute once I've had it under control, then go to Mojave and do the same.

Rinse and repeat.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

"Hello America, it's me.

"Your President.

"John He—

"—he—! Haha! Got you! You're listening to Galaxy News Radio and I'm your host—! Threedaawg, lord and master of all I survey... That's right, from the east coast to the west coast and to the entirety of the whole wasteland of the northern continental America, we're coming to you loud and proud! And in a special live report.

"A kid from a certain vault, the one, the only, the Lone Wanderer— Cat's got me this sweeeeet deal! He sets me up for some wide signal coverage under one condition, I keep fighting the good fight. Guess what my automatic response was... That's right! You can't stop this signal!

"In other news, our Lone Wanderer has been sighted across the Capital Wasteland, with bad guys dropping left and right. Super mutants, raiders, slavers, junkies, and the menace hounding us all; the Enclave.

"On top of that, I've been getting scattered reports that our Lone Wanderer has been helping not just Capital Wasteland but the entire north american wasteland at large. Now I'm not familiar with the Commonwealth but it seems our Lone Wanderer has seen to it that any gang, or any would be evil doers at all, are to never be seen again from the Commonwealth. And his next target lies on the west.

"That's right children. When the Lone Wanderer sets his sight onto something, especially someone, he gets his job done. And his job is to win the good fight.

"Up next, we got a public service announcement! Listen up children, this stuff's important.

"Listen kiddos, never forget the importance of periodic weapon maintenance; rifle, pistol, police baton, I don't care which. If your weapon is falling apart the only wasteland asshole it's gonna kill is you. So, be smart. Salvage those parts and make repairs whenever you can.

"And now, some music."

*Plays [I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire – The Ink Spots]

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

Jacobstown.

Or at least soon to be Jacobstown; Mt. Charleston Lodge.

The mutants haven't assembled here yet. And it's bare, extremely cold for people not used to a simple breeze.

I could setup this whole place for mutants, build underground tunnels with primitive materials. Just wide and deep enough to prevent problems with the nearby Enclave safehouse.

I laid my gaze around for the trees.

They are... limited.

A trip to Vault 22 can help me with that.

...Why not Big Mountain?

It was purged the moment Mobius found it could jeopardize everyone. At the time he was still human and haven't undergone the steps to secure his brain into a think tank. The chief director at the time was also human. They both butted heads, the other wants actual tests. Mobius wants simulations with available data, if beneficial and has decreased chances of disaster then live tests will follow, otherwise; it'll be purged, archived, and placed under security.

The theme went on until the chief director died to choking from food. Mobius assumed the role of Acting-Chief Director. And the stories that follow it is for another time.

Now you could guess why I'd like a trip to Vault 22.

The experimental data deep within the Vault's data banks is beneficial for analysis and even more helpful when I consume one sample.

I forgot what those human-turned-fungi are called and I won't care any further than examining them and then sealing Vault 22.

The data I'll have by then can be used for boosting plant life or at least improve cultivation.

...

...

This walk is very uneventful.

...

Is that a nightkin? I waved at the invisible blue skinned super mutant designed for stealth.

It waved back.

Looks like Lily and Leo was scouting Jacobstown.

Eh, I'll need to finish Vault 22.

...

...

Hmm...

...

Vault 22.

The vines haven't forced open the slightly open Vault door, just an inch. There are no visible signs of the viral fungi spores.

Time to see my strength.

I removed every single clothing I have on my person and placed both my arms to the door. Yes, my genitalia is hanging free, now focus.

I pushed, the rust fought back with brittle effort, and the door moved back.

My omni-sense will help in here.

I can see just fine without assistance and though being in armor will certainly help, I want to adapt.

My resistance to the cloud from the Sierra Madre is still on going.

This time, I want to at least have resistance against viral fungi. Who knows where I might end up after I successfully make a dimension hopper of some sort.

Stuff for another time.

For now... Let's breeeeeeaaathe this air...

Do I close the Vault door—guess I should. Don't want any escapee or anyone following in. I dragged the giant cog of a door into place but not pushing it to lock into place. I still need to get out.

Taking another even deeper breath, I took the steps and plunged into the depths of Vault 22. Preparing myself for the hundreds of enemies I'll find.

The average population I can estimate is 350. This does not account for genetic deviation to prevent inbreeding or other such birth defects. No, just supposition of how many people got the time to run into the Vaults, the rate they can reproduce, the lifespan average, death rate, and other such things.

And judging by Vault 101,

This isn't canon.

I opened the hermetically sealed door with a push of a button and closed it on the other side with the same.

Rust, decay, musty recycled air. I took it all in.

And my head is three feet away from touching the floor's upper surface—err, ceiling. Good thing they made everything with power armors in mind. Even if I'm not in a power armor right now.

The elevator grabbed my attention.

Levels, levels, levels... this elevator directory is shit. L1 L2 L3 L4 L5.

I started at the stairs to L2.

Can't remember the layout from the game, it might be bigger than Vault 101. There's the cavern they have, the giant mantises, and the giant venus fly traps that can spit acidic spores. And it might be modded for the sake of making my playthrough the 'for sheets and giggles' kind of play.

There's nothing important anywhere.

How many hydrogen tanks do I have... only six? Damn. I'll have to get some more random supplies.

I can use the hydrogen tanks into rigged explosives along a few scattered mini nukes—of which I have 96—laid about to collapse the entire Vault into itself. Maybe I can rig their reactor to initiate meltdown and setup the tanks and nukes as insurance?

That's it the—

I ducked and grabbed at the leg of the spore thing that lunged at me. They have excellent camouflage. Unmoving and instinctively blends around. Sadly, I have it by the leg and have to give it the experience of going Mach 1.

It... did not survive my grip, bursting to release spores and splotching onto the wall, turning to mush. I won't be sampling that.

A nanite pack materialized and dropped onto the pile of mush, I sent the commands to activate and begin analysis.

I stepped aside and delivered a jab at the thing that can bypass my omni-sense. They don't apparently generate noise. Not even a squelch when they move, but squelches and screeches loud when dying. My jab wasn't even aimed, just an automatic response and I found it lost its head.

Tenacity is a good trait to have. But not when your enemy does. Losing a head meant nothing for this thing, but getting enough blunt force to its entire body may be.

I followed with my right shin smashing at its torso. I held back, but I just gave it time to regenerate.

It looks like I need to deal damage all at once to remove its cohesion and it must be applied to a large surface area, preferably the torso.

Its lunge appeared slow to me as I stood there with VATS activated. I stepped to the side as I grabbed the back of its neck and gave it the Mach treatment. It burst, releasing spores and turning into mush.

Exiting VATS, I waited.

My observation proved true.

The nanites reported mutated fungi that converts organic matter into a useable substance. It goes deeper than that. The fungus converts the organic matter into a blank organic substance. It's either the actual mutation, or perhaps they spliced it with something. One that turns or converts the blank substance into what these spore things are. Parasitism.

I initiated self-destruct for those nanites. When I get Dala to isolate the mutation, the fungi's function can be used for recycling wastes into useful organic matter. We finally have use for the undecaying Zeta corpses (don't know why).

For now, I need to get to L5 and acquire the data from whatever type of computer it is. Let's call it a mainframe.

As I took the stairs to L3, I'm swarmed by fourteen of these spore things. VATS, of course, immediately activated. I have one whole minute of unaided bullet time. With Implant GRX I can get an additional half.

I grabbed the first that lunged, forcefully front kicking the second, and smashing the third with the first.

With a dash, I barreled through the rest and turned on a dime to face them. My fist buried its way into a torso and I flung it to my left, hitting three more. I flicked around my eyes and found them all airborne, I spread my arms slightly and did another barreling through them.

They were thrashed to the elevator's doors and I started stomping. Few got the chance to fight back but were quickly given their own stomping.

Every stomp I did, it felt like I'm stepping onto deep mud. Their bursting into spores did nothing against me.

VATS ended and I find myself facing another wave attracted by my stomping or their fellow's bursting screeches. This wave seems to be the majority of those spore things on this floor.

Before they could get to the corridor, I was already at the open area. Hitting everything with wide attacks; backhands, forty-five-degree kicks, Mach treatment, and my barreling into their general direction.

I know it was ineffective, but I'm trying to work up my body, see if these spore things can hurt me.

Now though? I'm... disappointed. In-game, they get as strong as those things from the divide or at least like the Trogs from the Pitt.

And when put into reality...

The other two can put up a challenge for the main character. But these things? They have nothing but regen and brute strength. The Trogs like to use swarming on top of hit and run tactics, sometimes sandwiching you; they also explode harder than these things if you didn't kill them quick. The tunneling-things from the divide have scales tough as a deathclaw's, if not tougher; claws and fangs as sharp as a deathclaw's, if not sharper.

These spore things... are only dangerous if I was a normal human or playing as the Courier due to its viral capacity and tenacious nature.

Perhaps it is me being at the level of a space marine, if not higher. Even as I breathe this infected air and my biology finds a way to assimilaa—...fuck! Fuck, fu—okay, there we go.

The radioactive uranium and plutonium dropped into the ground.

I injected myself with a stim pack, drank a liter of ERA adjuster, and drank one vial of biogel while I fended off these things with kicks and backhanding.

My body warmed. As if I've just eaten and my body began digestion-and-metabolizing kind of warm. I think, still being alive, that I don't need to do a study of what happened just to tell it.

Either I adapted, or I mutated.

IMMEDIATELY.

Both have good and bad effects.

I stored the uranium and plutonium and resumed my crushing of these things... they've run out of numbers. Their bursting upon death is annoying.

But, that's fifty-three. Nowhere near my estimate of three hundred plus something.

*crack

The metal and cement flooring under me collapsed,

THEN I was swarmed.

Did I jinx myself? Probably. I hate it when it happe—ns? They... they can't hurt me?

I'm dog piled and they're clawing at every inch of my body. Not even once had they hurt me. I feel them touching me, their claw like fingers trying to get purchase on my skin, the force of their clawing... its enough to kill a man.

I breathed in deeply.

And let out a grin.

Without further notice, I stood up. Forcefully.

Fungi infested bodies flew everywhere. Most, losing cohesion and exploding upon landing. Trogs explode harder.

I want to fucking laugh. I really fucking do. Believe me.

But I just stomped with one foot and the flooring beneath me collapsed.

I fell onto level 5.

Another swarm of green fungi infested things swarmed me.

I just... well, did what a child did at least once in their life. I spread my arms and turned into a human top.

And I may have underestimated my newfound strength.

While yes, I decimated the spore things, I inadvertently drilled myself into the floor down to my waist. Easily solvable with one try to jump.

Underestimated again, my head punched through the level 4's flooring. I just wiggled my neck and let gravity take me down. This time, I was safe from underestimation. MY underestimation.

I wandered around trying to find the mainframe while also leaving hydrogen tanks stuck and leaking on the vent shafts as well as few mini nukes at every corner.

After eight minutes of random walking, I found what passes for a mainframe and started cracking. A minute and I'm in, copying every data they have. It was a mainframe. I'm surprised it hasn't been corrupted or somehow damaged with two centuries' worth of aging.

Let's—my feet moved and hit something that splotched—see, hmmm... So, their goal was to figure out how to make plants efficient at producing oxygen in low-oxygen environments. They've succeeded on one part; a medium, a blank cell of sorts.

But without a proper agent to introduce what they need, they failed. Then they turned to Beauveria mordicana samples. The same samples that were given to Big Mountain before the Great War that Mobius shut down.

I really am glad the Mobius in here is competent. As well as the Think Tank. Even if they have a few quirks and eccentricities here and there.

So! Beauveria mordicana mutated the blank cells. They hoped they could engineer the parasite to become a fungal plant-parasite, instead of fungal insect-parasite. Their meddling with it succeeded but at a cost. It became fungal organic-parasite. Anything that is organic and has enough of a system to control its body or physiology; it gets converted to spread around. It worked effectively for people. Not so much for insects.

Their genetic meddling turned it into a bioweapon, one that enhances insects and plant life to great effect. Exhibit A, giant mantises. Time will only tell if this means these insects are biologically immortal. Exhibit B, giant venus flytraps and weeds. The game made a certainty that these plants won't stop growing with evidence provided by the large root that forced open the Vault's blast door.

The great thing here is that this whole vault hasn't been plundered. Or I will no longer be happy that THIS ISN'T CANON.

Still, it worked at a price. They have plants that resist radiation, even heal after being irradiated and show no mutation to its fruits or itself. The problem was that anything organic with a system to control its body, it kills that body and quickly grows colonies then reanimates it, not once stopping on growing fungal colonies and animating once living people, all the while boosting insect and plant life.

Imagine a fucking cazadores boosted with these fungi spores... you have a possibly immortal, hard to hit, and poisonous predatorial fly. The fucking name implies it's a hunter of sorts.

Imagine it hunting you at night.

Well, I am glad this is over with.

I need to somehow cause a great fire that will burn away everything. Not just the spores in the air but also the plant life, before it could mutate to convert every other element making up the composition of air into oxygen and grow from there.

Hmm... I have flares, gunpowder, and methane? Wow, I can use these, how about those alcoholic drinks? Setup everything in a chain of explosives? Maybe a simultaneous chain? One for the hydrogen now in the ventilation and another for the methane and alcohols? Then the mini nukes would be the insurance to ensure a cave in.

This is nice. But my desire to grow trees for use on Jacobstown's fence just like in-game has turned sour.

Oh, I forgot about mom's research into Harold's blood... which is also useless because it only makes plant and trees resist radiation and grow unhindered from it. Not boost its growth. Harold has been stuck there for years and the game didn't show a real forest. But, that's just my speculation, haven't seen the real thing.

Welp. Let's just make do with what we have.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

It's interesting when you make improvised explosive devices to remove a viral infection. The satisfaction that it won't hurt and do anything else from that moment on as well as the explosion and gore... it feels nice.

I may also have turned into someone who likes explosion.

Even with the blast door shut, sealed with epoxy, and half buried with dirt; it threatened to go off its locks and blocks.

I made an explosion probably large enough to the level of a low-yield payload.

And I love it.

Just sucks I can't use it to do something about reforesting Mt. Charleston after the trees get used for walling around the lodge.

"Hello." The voice came out garbled, just like any other mutant trying to speak.

"Hi." I replied to who looks like Tabitha, a nightkin, with her handyman.

"Marcus asks if you can share Mt. Charleston."

"Oh, let him know I want to do some renovation and would appreciate the help."

"But will you share?"

"It's no problem." I waved off the question as we made way to what I now see as a conclave of super mutants from the master's army, those from other experiments, and the nightkins.

"He says we share!" Tabitha shouted.

"Oohh, deary, you've grown. Grandma missed you." Lily mouthed off trying to crush me in a hug. I think she can't, even if she tried. I feel myself doing something under the sun. Whether its photosynthesis or something else, its good. It boosts me, I can think of it later.

"Yeah. Yeah. Missed you too." I said dismissively.

Donned with nothing but pants, not even shoes, I stand at near the same height as these hunched super mutants that can stand straight at ten feet if they bothered to correct their hunched backs.

Me being seven feet and three inches puts me at eye level to some of them.

"Alright, he's hugged you enough Lily." Marcus said and Lily let me go and went to tending to her pack of bighorners.

"Hey there. You're incredibly tall for a human. Do you know the enclave perhaps?"

"Of course. Who else wouldn't after what they've done at the rig and the capital wasteland?"

"You know about the rig? That's a long time ago." Marcus said as we walked towards Jacobstown.

"Nah, just heard rumors from some idiot who called me El Dubya."

"Ahaha—"

That was Raul chuckling his ass off. Wonder how he's with Marcus, and why Tabit—oh, right. Tabitha only rebelled against Marcus because of that handyman not guiding her. The brotherhood here may have attacked them.

"Oh come on, only one gets the joke?"

Marcus turned his head to Raul who tried to explain, "Well boss, if -snrk- I'm right. You're the Lone Wanderer. Probably unintentional on the L, but W-? *snrk*"

I nodded at his delight.

"And the idiot's probably dead somewhere near Mexico."

I nodded again.

"Now, I'll begin listing things correct me if I'm wrong. Lone Star State twang, nicknaming, and general Dumbness." Raul listed off, finally got his laughter controlled.

"Yeah, I know it's a derogatory slang. Forgot how or for who. Just that whoever was called with it first, a lot of people hated him."

Raul perked up a bit, "It's a nickname for someone who tried to run as president and lost. But just went back to being the lone star state governor."

"Texas." I added.

Marcus nodded.

"Was it a super mutant or a ghoul?" Raul asked.

"A ghoul. Narcissistic at that. I don't fucking know how. But yes, he fucking loves his new looks. Then he got a look to the end of my barrel."

We finally made a stop to soon to be named Jacobstown's and its soon to be deforested front yard.

"My plans were to make an underground tunnel system that connects to the tunnels there—" I pointed to where I saw a metal fence "—and provide ease of access for whatever reason. It makes room for everyone, the tunnel system I mean, and can act as escape tunnel."

"You've planned this good. But what for? Far as I can see you're alone. Lone Wanderer." Marcus pointed out, Raul nodding along.

I turned my gaze to the super mutants that are now entering the lodge, "You see them, right?"

Both looked to the numerous nightkin and super mutants entering the lodge, being directed by who I think is Neil, and started doing things.

I received a nod from Marcus and a feeling of arched brow from Raul.

"I saw the same from the ghouls in underworld. Trying to find their place away from all the bigotry and unprovoked assaults."

Raul figured it out, "You planned to make this place for super mutants even before they get to settle? Dios mio, the radio wasn't joking about you."

"You know the wastes, the people; I try to help because I know it's not worth it to do otherwise." I shrugged.

"But you get nothing— damn. You're another one of them."

I almost scoffed, "The vault dweller or the chosen one? Well, either of them. Still a no. Not like who they are. I'm more of do what I want when I want. Its usually to help people or just me."

"The same damn thing he said. Well, except for the part where you refer to him. Damn shame he passed early and never saw the fruit of his actions."

So Raul was there with Marcus and gang, the Chosen one's gang.

"Well, enough mellowing things. I got some tools to help." I materialized shovels designed for me by Collins. "A shovel that's also a shotgun, the handle has the trigger capable of only a single shot, manual reload due to insufficient size and durability issue when made like a shotgun. Unless you want a magazine sticking on its side, you just get one shot. The blade's sharp as hell and can survive lava without melting. It actually just makes it more effective at its job."

Raul grabbed one from the ground. And although it's almost as long as him, it weighed almost like any other shotgun. He whistled in astonishment.

"Where can I get one of these?" He asked checking the shovel, even Marcus found it a good weapon on his hands already.

"They're special order. I have more but I'll only give ten, that's good enough right?"

Marcus barked, "Ha! Good enough he says. You do know how strong we super mutants are right? Then you give us something this tough?" he sunk the head by its point without effort, just his arm's entire weight resting on it.

"Dios—ehem, this thing is sharper than a deathclaw's...claw." Raul spoke in appraisal.

"Eh, they're yours. Also, here." I materialized an improved version of the stealth boy, the one that Hanford and Mobius worked on to remove the effects I said it had.

"You know the nightkins are addicted to that thing." Marcus said in a warning voice.

"It's supposed to help you find the cure to their mental disorders. Get some scientists from the followers, let them help you. I already improved it to stop affecting the brain, but I can't reverse the effects. I know it can be done with therapy using the improved version of this one, IF you can get it done."

Marcus sighed and grumbled, "Fine, was already planning to do it anyways. Keene might do something rash again. I'll see if I can do what you claim."

"Also here—" I materialized a pack of alien epoxy and tons of Big Mountain wonderglue.

"The alien looking like thing is an epoxy that can take on the properties of what it's slathered on and make repairs. Be careful not to place it on flesh even if it can't hurt flesh. These set of boxes are wonderglues that put the original wonderglue like children's snot."

"Also here—" I materialized tesla turrets, six of them.

"They're tesla turrets capable of transforming to and from that package state. You can arm it with maybe a microfusion cell for thirty shots. But you have strong winds here, can use that to power things. If you want something to boost it up, try hooking a tread mill to a generator or battery, have someone who's bored to run on it. And you'll probably need to make a proper tunnel system to place those batteries. Not to say of those cables you'll have to use."

"Thankfully we can live a long time."

I laughed, "Guess we do."

They both turned to me, "Really?" Raul asked.

"Yeah, give me sunlight and I'll bounce back from the dea—okay probably not death but you get the picture. I thought it was FEV at the time, then I forgot it makes you—well, a super mutant and stuff. And then the sun struck me with light, and I just felt good. Not orgasm good, but stress relieved good."

"I'll hold you to that." Raul gave a few nods and began chopping on a tree. With a shovel. A saturnite shotgun shovel.

Ghouls have freaky strength, like a human without the pain inhibitors. I still probably have those. Hmm, maybe I should have some sort of switch on mine for emergency.

"Sure. But, my time here is done. I do hope you build better relations with the Followers. And fast. I don't know how much longer Caesar can hold his baldy head before he marches into Mojave. Then an all-out war will breakout. Again. You'll probably gonna have to occupy this whole mountain range, up down the road. This whole place is one good defensible position. You'd survive for years even when under attack."

"Thanks, er, what's your name?"

"Jack Balthazar, no last name. Parents got no time to think of one. They just have single names, mom decided to give me two."

"Thanks Jack." Marcus said, turning to Keene waiting at the lodge's door.

I nodded and activated the teleportation matrix.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

Thinking back, I guess I have one convenient plot device. I'd even call it Big. Get it?

Big Mountai— ah fuckit.

I was stuck at the Think Tank trying to fucking come up with even the prototype of the nanosuit.

Graphene rolled into a tube, a carbon nanotube. It can contract 200x more than the average human muscle when exposed to heat or electricity. CryFibrill does much better under the worst of circumstances.

I have completed the basic premise of the suit but I can't make it into the actual suit. CryFibrill is hard to replicate.

Then the entirety of Big Mountain fell onto the project—like a starved Deathclaw—when they saw my frustrations.

As usual; I gave them the list of functions the suit can do, hypothetical scenarios involving the functions, the relevance of those functions—why it works that way, the theory I have behind how it works, the possible blueprints and schematics of every part I can think of.

You know how long it took them to figure it out? The moment I began listing the fucking functions.

And with the amount of resources we have, with the way we can create almost anything with the Self-Contained Matter Transformation Device that can work in tandem with their own omni pip and nanites? It was already under testing.

Not to forget, aforementioned nanites are already capable of at least several functions of Crysis' nanites. Like the slow cell alteration/enhancement I've done on my entire body, the crystalline generation for stealth, information relay, augment my immune system, enhance the bodily functions to heightened levels, and constantly perform maintenance on its host.

Then my problem became apparent.

It wasn't about replicating CryFibril, its about successfully creating it as a medium through which the nanites can function at an unprecedented level.

It wasn't about creating an improved nano-weave, its about having a god damned suit I barely have the true schematics of.

Big Mountain shows its convenience at my disposal.

All I wanted was to have.

Endlessly.

Greed.

Talk about me not wanting control over greed.

I just do things and whatever the hell I want. I haven't really thought about what I really need.

The truth of why I'm an entity, a being that goes through countless lives then stagnate. I don't even know who The One True God is.

And just like now, when I've hit a roadblock, I know I stagnate. I've already had the fucking nanites that perform several functions of what was intended to be used in a Nanosuit.

The Think Tank does better. They build from scratch and tests. Suppositions and elimination. Improvement and incorporation.

It was there. One big jigsaw puzzle. Complete with all the pieces. And what did I do? I forced myself to fucking create my own jigsaw puzzle when, clearly, I lack the pieces and those pieces I have don't even fit.

What do I say to that?

Fuck it.

Why do I even need the N2 in the first place? Well, having strength that far surpasses a space marine's strength can get you unwanted problems. While I can meditate and do some mental exercises, not to mention hypnotherapy, I'd be good.

But when I lose my temper, I'd probably lose control. Even if I still have inhibitions like a normal human does, my strength is already lethal even if I don't intend to hurt. What more if I did? And if I lost my inhibitions?

Here we go again with control.

I must be a hypocrite right now.

Well, of all the things I've done... I probably am.

But yeah, it's to regulate things in my body and stuff while I adjust to things.

"Observation complete."

"Dala?"

"Chief Director."

"What's the result of the observation?" I asked Dala as she hovered behind me. We're on the renovated spaceship.

"Subject shows sociopathy and several other mental ill—"

"Stop. Knowing I have sociopathy is enough. The hypnotherapies haven't solved anything?"

"It created problems."

I sighed.

"Is the quantum lock on the prisoners completely mapped?"

"Yes."

I sighed again. No one informed me and I forgot to set a reminder. Not perfect. Nor do I need to be.

"Alright, let's go. We'll probably need an hour to make the key to greet them."

We teleported to the ship.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

I should've regretted it.

I should've first thought it through.

With them being imprisoned, I thought they were captured for being a threat to the Zetans or those sentinel aliens.

I was wrong. Slightly.

They were a threat to every life in every dimension.

The platform housing their prison was destroyed from our fight. I lost my arms and my left leg. They have weapons capable of sure destruction and they hold no remorse nor any forethought what can or had happened.

It all started nice, me figuring out the lock and freeing the girl, who proceeded to shoot me with weapons materializing from thin air. Just like me.

Fighting with things stored in something. Appears from nothing.

While I took her shots in my normal clothes made of ceramite treated cotton, I wore over my version of Elite Riot Armor.

She was buying time and I just stood there hoping to use scare tactics or just break her will.

I was wrong.

Soon she was joined by the other three, the muscled one who almost reached my height started to bull rush me.

I activated VATS, wielded chainsword revving it at industrial rpm levels of 255k rpm and activated the tesla feature.

A single step and I lashed out at what I think is Mach 5, and I was met with a shield. The same style with the sentinel aliens. I used the berserker guy's body as shield while I whittled down his own energy shield.

It took six strikes before my chainsword split him in two when I decided he needs to be given at three apiece for his companions who have now flanked me.

Then the grenades started dropping.

Electricity, nanite composites, MIRV, and something else that appeared to be more corrosive than the Sierra Madre's cloud struck me.

I let the armor fight back, then my skin got hit. The bullets tore through my body. Even with VATS I know it went slow as everything, part of the reason why I can dodge most of their bullets, but it went through me like I was paper. The trajectory suggested it was from the masked wrestler-wannabe that aimed a sniper rifle and magnum at me.

I fucked him up into pieces.

But my back was exposed. Their guns have unbelievable fire-rate without overheating. 16k bullets per minute? Is that even possible without overheating and the mind-boggling reflex to reload that fast?

Still, I tanked it. Then the pain came stronger than the last. I saw my right leg gone. Torn by a shotgun with the same corrosive properties of the grenades fired by the female that had instantly switched back to SMG and fired at me at 16k rounds per minute.

THEN the sub-machine gun rounds I was taking from the female suddenly turned into fire, electricity, bomb, and that same fucking corrosive feature.

My right arm holding the chainsword was hit multiple times and was now looking like a skeletal model, flesh and armor, gone.

All those elemental-like effects acted in an instant even under VATS—Implant GRX kicked in.

I materialized another chainsword onto my left hand and revved it at 1.5millon rpm and channeled WHATEVERTHEFUCKINGTHINGICANTHINKOF

The shield went inexistent. The other guy was bisected and turned into three pieces, head flying from the now missing neck.

I turned to the female. She had gone transparent, like a purple blue CRT hologram, then she struck the air in front of us.

I willed my omni pip to teleport away to Dala.

An explosion of what seems to be dimensional energy went out in ripples. Before I could lose my left arm, I threw the chainsword outwards, it struck her head and looked to be in the process of losing said head. The explosive energy was too much, and I shielded myself with my left arm; minimizing the path the explosion will take towards me by closing in.

Nothing remained of my left arm.

I don't have omni pip to materialize radioactive material and regenerate through it.

Implant GRX ticked by and ended. The effects of my recent mutation went full force to work with my organs.

The super platelets from the gene-seed had already covered some of my wounds forming scabs, but the new mutation of having blank cells or whatever it was that turned me into something that can smash things around at Mach 5 started regenerating me.

My stomach and back were filled with holes big enough for a human's fist to go through. Left side of my neck is missing some chunks. My right leg was gone, completely corroded from the knee. My right arm held through and the bones remained connected by the thinnest ligament. My left arm soaked up the explosion and was vaporized.

Of the three hearts I have, only two was functional, the other one was shot three times and is trying to regenerate. My lungs are shredded, all of them. My segmented ribcage is broken into more than thirty pieces.

Armor completely destroyed into several inches that clung to my skin, and I have pieces of bullet in my head.

Yet I still live.

Tenacity is a good trait to have.

As well as plot armor like the Lone Wanderer and the Courier. Getting any action to the head seems to be disregarded. Chunk of brain gets operated out, gets shot twice in the head, getting your brain scooped out, then losing it to madness as you grow old haunted by your past.

Dala came in shouting worries and saying something near to teleport, calibrate, injury, recovery vat, wait.

"Do not tell anyone what happened except Mobius." My vision turned hazy.

I never understood what she said next.

But I quickly found myself getting stripped naked by mister orderlies and then hauled into what looks like a recovery tank.

"Stop. Bullets in head. Need operation." I managed to slur out.

Then I got hauled to an auto doc.

Darkness wrapped me.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

"Complete right leg and left arm loss. Near total loss of right arm. Ribcage broken to 41 pieces and lungs shredded to multiple bits. Two hearts entered emergency, the last one failed. Digestive system riddled with 93 bullet shrapnel whilst the whole abdomen had four three-inches wide holes. Neck has lost more than 50% of flesh, bones and ligaments remain. Cranium holds seven pair of bullet holes, only two bullets have remained; netting nine bullet entry but only seven exits."

"Have the nanites augmented recovery?"

"Yes, Dr. Freeman. Although Hanford has only begun confirmation tests on Project Nano-Weave."

"It is no matter, what we need is to set everything in place for proper recovery, have the bullets been extracted?"

"Yes."

"Well, what are we waiting for?"

"The... auto-doc is snapping bones back into place. The loss of limb almost became a problem when the auto doc went to augment them with prosthetics—"

"Then make the upgrades to prevent this problem! Next."

"The chief director is—... ready for recovery vat."

"Place him in, do not activate the shock therapy."

"Understood."

"I need to have a word with Hanford and his slow work progress."

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

[MobiusNetUltra – Credentials confirmed.]

||Connections successfully established.

[Nanosuit Engaged.]

I felt everything on my body.

The phantom pains, the recovery, even the minutest detail of every cell; I felt it. Then my omni-sense made it even more comprehensible. Organized.

I saw everything again just like when I wasn't armored and exposed in my naked form. Omni-sense.

I looked around and saw that it's the same treatment I've experienced when I was done having the implantations.

Getting dipped into a vat filled with the big-mountain-improved biogel maintained by shock therapy.

I looked at my hands... just to confirm what I am feeling, and found myself wearing N2.

/Time unconscious?

[736 hours 11 minutes 28 seconds.]

Longer than what I expected. I lost most of my body. Near 78% integrity...?

Was that what the fungi did? Increased my overall integrity and improve that integrity to untold heights of efficiency?

But then, that's not my concern.

My concern was that those lead-based firearms tore through the armor made capable of shrugging the rounds fired upon me. Even the carapace under my skin hadn't been able to say squat. Those things shredded my bones, the BONES said to be almost unbreakable by spartan standards THAT WAS THEN reinforced to be even more unbreakable bone by the GENE-SEED ORGANS through ridiculous growth. THEN reinforce it EVEN MORE from whatever effects the viral fungi did to me.

The order of improvement on my bones or anything else doesn't even matter, they have guns that tore through me. Someone that underwent specific surgery, hypnotherapy, mutation, adaptations, and experience just to prevent what just fucking happened.

Want to know something worse than those combined?

My kinetic barrier was on and was at the maximum setting that lets me negate .50cal and not even get touched by those shots. My mind snapped to survive. I lost thousands of microfusion cells and my kinetic barrier fried to oblivion.

And the bullets...still fucking went through.

Should anyone know this...

Moira will cling to me like I will be gone the next moment she searched for me.

Mom will be livid I let this happen. Then... breakdown.

We don't want that.

/Is suit assimilation possible?

[Symbiosis 0.013%]
[Needs at 100%]

/Begin symbiosis.

[Confirming command.]

/Begin symbiosis.

[Objective established.]
[Suggestion: Nanosuit requires experience.]

/Anything specific?

[Hypothetical situations and near-impossible situations improve overall tactical capabilities.]

/That will not be a problem.

I got a confirmation.

I looked around from my vat and saw no one. Then the circular door of MS Zeta opened like slices of pizza pulled by hands simultaneously. Mobius came floating in.

"Chief Director."

"Richard."

"Does mother know?"

"The event was deleted from every data storage, said storage were easily recycled and replaced with newer ones. Only Dala, Hanford, and I, know of this. With you as the last and as the victim, only your authority and authenticated commands can allow us to speak of what has happened."

"How did anyone make the N2?"

"Coff—I mean, utilizing caffeine-like properties introduced onto biogel and administered to my tank helped me... complete and test the nanosuit in 74 hours and a few minutes. Hanford helped."

So instead of mentats, he's used coff—is that why almost every schematic has coffee stains? Or-

...You know, I'm not gonna ask.

"Any other things I need to concern myself with?"

"Yes. The matter of the perpetrators and their origin. The platform turned prison is under lockdown as well as the entirety of the cryo labs...A—"

"An—?, Oh, err, go ahead."

"And we've completed a microfusion breeder that uses fissile material from Zetan energy cells. Although the radioactive ingots from the alien sentinels are still a mystery. However, we do know it powers the weapons that matches the alien sentinels' design and structure."

Structure? "Does that mean they are automatons then?"

"Designed to be, and made more than that. An Intelligent Automaton to give the proper term."

Then would mean they were the ones that imprisoned those psychos?

"Am I fully healed?"

"Yes."

"Release."

Mobius did some beeping and the shocks stopped, followed by the draining of biogel then the vat's glasteel receding apart.

This—

—perception. Is amazing.

I know my surroundings even when under the N2. I even know the full telemetry around me that I can see behind me using said telemetry and my combined perception as if it was as clear as day and I'm staring at it. Except I stare at everything, 360 degrees. Not horizontal but also vertical.

My actual sight is still limited to 170 degrees in some form of cone but do I need to go beyond that? I already perceive 360 degrees around me in a sphere. And should I be in an open area, I think it could let me see for 100 meters. Maybe less.

The suit enhances what I perceive, my mind receives the perception to form the omni-sense. I don't need satellites and other sources for telemetry, I AM the telemetry.

And it is incredibly satisfying.

For now, I need to see the weapons and the dissection of the psychopaths that nearly killed me.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

I stood with Mobius hovering beside me.

"Mobius, have Dala dissect their bodies but be careful to not destroy them. They might hold some information. But just in case, keep red alert at all times. And begin reverse engineering the shields from those alien sentinels. I fought the four of them and they seem to have their own reversed engineered shield at a reduced capacity."

He knew what I meant by red alert. It meant gutsy and alien drones on the double at every corner and every kinetic shield at maximum settings. Turrets at rapid fire settings. And more. Collins and Osborn introduced the idea, it involved hologram emitters.

I looked around the whole platform. The damages have been repaired, everything has been moved but their weapons and other personal effects were left on a set of tables adjacent to their cryo pods.

||Can we already assimilate technology?

[Yes.]

I—... hmm, it's dangerous to assimilate without analysis... I gave the command to just analyze the blocky thing that looked almost like a PIP-Pad with even more compact design and a few buttons and dials that seems to be the input controls. There's what looks like a microphone, a speaker, a connection port.

The nanosuit began analysis with the nanites from my body, flowing out of my left hand and onto the PIP-Pad lookalike.

It also seems to be sturdy. Made to withstand extreme wear and tear. Waterproofed. Vacuum-sealed, most likely. And can... perform 56K connection? What is this fallo—

Oh, right. Still in fallout. But Big Mountain can function at the fiber optic speeds now. Even at quantum level with the supercomputers and terminals here at MS Zeta. Not to mention the ongoing upgrade to communication systems.

Barring those, we have nanites that transfer the data like a wireless fidelity operating at similar IEEE standards of Earth Prime. Even then, I don't use any restriction on it as opposed to those shitty corporations and governments like to impose. More importantly, they are running with an encryption like blockchain. So even if the signal gets discovered, there's a whole series of blocks to process just to sabotage us.

And they have 56k as their—minimum at times of high stress situations? Okay... ah... so they are capable of at most a VSAT and wi-fi and they can store... holy shit. They can store anything as data.

No, I don't store any of mine as data. I quantum super-position them through a quantum tunnel lea—not important, they turn things into fucking DATA! Just like how I did on a playthrough where I acquired [To Perfection... and Beyond!] but without the application of quantum technology.

A problem lies with the data form/type. Once stored, it takes up storage space. And the occupied space is big. They divided it into sectors, probably to prevent unwanted effects like your revolver suddenly meshed into a grenade when you draw it out.

Its premise is like a video game. You get limited inventory, find special rare component, upgrade inventory with said special rare component, then profit.

Hmm, I see. They have standardized ammunition. As well as guns if they fire the same ammunition for each different classification of guns they have.

Repeater Pistol, Revolver Handgun, SMG, Combat Rifle, Shotgun, Sniper, Rocket Launcher, and Grenade.

The device seems to be capable of an interface visible only to the user just like a HUD. A videogame HUD. I'm referring you, you fucking experience bar module.

Most of the data are corrupted? Maybe my chainsaw hitting the users have jumbled up the data through what I think is an implant that allows them to use the device. With a connection disrupted, the PIP-Pad lookalike may have also disrupted its systems.

Well, I can still reverse engineer the weapons lying around. I'd prioritize the SMG, Sniper, and Revolver that dealt the most damage to me.

If I remember right, the Revolver fired seven bullets in one shot and the other three times I can recall, it fired eight.

Then there's the SMG that fired more bullets than it should in under a minute without overheating.

Following that would be the Sniper that went just like any other bullet but passed through my body like I was air. AND ALSO FIRED SIX BULLETS.

There's the shotgun from the berserker and the combat rifle from the —what I think, is an— African-American soldier.

Hmm? Class Optimization Mods?

Damn. They are video game characters. That, or it is one big coincidence that they are called that; CLASS optimization MODS.

MODS.

And they acted hostile at first contact of me freeing them. Or at least the female started.

They even have Grenade Mo—

Shields. They have a slot for shields.

Shields that worked the same way as the sentinels.

Just as I thought before. They reverse engineered the shields from the alien sentinels, or at least some form of authority did, and they can use them just like how the aliens did. But theirs were inferior albeit with a few additions.

With the four of them captured during some event and the female suddenly waking up on an alien ship with an unknown man. She thought I can be easily killed given I had no armor at first and saw me without shields.

Are they also mentally ill? I wasn't looking hostile and specifically turned my body language to neutral, not even a hint of hostility.

Hmm? New-U stations...

They fucking have insurance against death?

Just my luc—wait, there isn't a New-U station here. This Hyperion corporation doesn't exist here. At least I think not in this galaxy. And IEEE 802.11 can only go so far without being useful if used for interplanetary levels.

If I am right, these consciousnesses they have stored in their own PIP-Pad are the acting locks and the corrupted data aren't corrupted but is the lock for their entire inventory; with a few I can access. Six if I'm right. The rest are locked.

By storing consciousness and transmitting that conscious as data into these New-U stations, they are inserted to a body similar to their last. Then their stored money is credited for the proportionate amount and then the device's data are sent to the New-U station to store onto a recreated version of their device complete with the data from the previous thing... that then self-destructs the old one into ashes? Wow, talk about paranoia. Well, I can implement that but no.

Let's just get these available inventories, they seem to be prepared for quick withdraw—they have hotkeys. Its different but virtually the same if my theory of them as video game characters stands true. And from FPS at that. Exhibit EXP; Experience Bar Module. Enough said.

"Mobius, I'm getting a headache, figurative. You analyze these things or get somebody. I'm going to sleep in my recovery vat." I said as I pulled all the hot keyed items from the PIP-Pad lookalikes.

"Ah, alright."

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

Pained.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—"

Garbled.

"—AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—"

Unintelligible.

"—AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—"

Understandable.

"—AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—"

Simple.

"—AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—"

Scream.

"—AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—!"

No one was around to hear, but they were alerted. Soon, think tanks and mister orderlies filled the room.

"Turn on the reinforcements!" Mobius ordered, beeping madly as he blazed on the data banks to find what they need.

Three layers of glasteel far thicker than the recovery vat's own have slammed up, forming three additional layers of protection both to the one inside the vat and to those outside.

"Activating sample retrieval." Dala droned on, assisting and directing few mister orderlies to fetch and administer task she required.

While Mobius and Dala provided the actual directions, the rest monitored and displayed various projections on different course of actions, as well as each one's ramifications.

The garbled screaming continued unabated.

"Stop the shock treatment!" Mobius shouted and the current stopped not soon after.

The screaming continued.

"Cycling biogel to second layer and introducing adreno-biogel-stims." Dala narrated as she herself oversaw the automated actions.

"Keep the cycling at minimum. Run a single shock, 15,000 volts; 1 milliamp." Mobius ordered almost robotically as he continued his previous actions.

The recovery vat pulsed not even phasing the patient inside.

"Introducing five gallons of experimental rad-away compound. Extending biogel cycling to third layer."

"Shock at 30,000 volts and 1.5 milliamp on my signal—"

Equipment, medicine, drugs, and other such effects began teleporting onto a series of tables whereupon they were attached to a large panel that seems to be connected to the vat through tubes and other such implements.

"Now! Cycle the third layer and replace old biogel with newly improved biogel!" Mobius screamed the commands.

"Involuntary muscular spasm detected, Dr. Freeman, I will introduce Med-X. Continue?"

"Dilute compound with stim pack; 10:6 ratio. Start the radiations!"

Substances flowed in and out of the vat of screams.

The first was clear, almost no visible change to the biogel within.

The second was a sick flow of green. Slowly oozing from upside down to patient who continued to scream.

The third was red, almost crimson, and tried to stain the whole vat. Try as it might, it was absorbed into the screaming man.

Then, an almost glowing iridescent substance rushed from above as the thick gooey old biogel was sucked onto the bottom. Soon, the whole layers were filled with the iridescent biogel, replacing the old biogel.

"Subject seems to have discovered circular breathing to continue screaming." Dala noted.

"The vitals and projections have stabled. We can only continue to observe." Mobius said as he observed the screaming subject.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

I'm floating in this recovery vat having the shock treatment that is now at 20kw, I'm what I should appear as; a 19-year-old standing —floating as of now— at seven feet and three inches tall. With a mop of blonde hair. Just like how I looked, almost nothing changed aside from the relative increase in body size and the additional muscle mass. Even the young face I have, remained.

Except my eyes.

Not once have I looked at them when I finished my augmentation.

Silver orbs that had this ҉ neon azure pattern around my iris while my pupil and the rest of my iris turned silver. The sclera remained the same white but a few silver organic veins replaced what you would normally see as red veins.

It looks somewhat good. Almost similar to how Prophet's eyes adjusted. Just my pattern was neon azure and the rest of my iris turned silver while his remained the same.

Although the effect with mine was not the same as Prophet's. It went beyond such changes. Projections state that it currently supplements and augments me entirely.

Let's start with this: Every single cell in the human body functions to give out what is called a living human. And there're more than 200 different kinds of cell in the human body.

We can classify each into tissues though. Four. Nervous tissue, Muscle tissue, Epithelial tissue, and Connective tissue.

But let's stick with, that; everything in your body is made up of cells. Some dead, most alive, some carry something for some other to use, and such and such.

The average size of every cell being 25 micrometers and 1 micrometer is equal to 1000 nanometers. The average size of my version of Crysis' nanites is 111.5 nanometers. That's 2787.5 nanometers of surface to cover.

And I have what? A device that can make whatever I want so long as I know how to make it or gives the device the object a sample and the right amount of resources? Scientists that can help me improve and make upgrades whenever?

I have enough to cover every single cell in my body with the CryFibril Nano-Weave.

But...

My biology actively fought the way the nano-weave tried to bond. It became excruciatingly painful at 2%. Then, possibly, somewhere at 9 – 10%, my body stopped fighting altogether and began its slow adaptation. Blank cells spawned almost like rabbits with unlimited health and stamina, almost turning me into a vegetable husk if it weren't for whatever the think tank did during my uh, blank moments as I seem to be ridden with pain and just can't recall what was happening.

I've endured.

And It resulted in a better symbiosis as the projections showed.

In Crysis 3 canon, when Prophet unlocked the safeties, he saw visions of every single nano-weave slowly starting to cover his cells —forming another cell wall made with nano-weave— while the cell within is safeguarded, possibly preserved, to produce an improved version of bio-technological immortality it gives the user.

And when Prophet absorbed enough energy with his suit, his transformation slowly began. He unknowingly primed his whole genetics. His near fatality from the atmospheric re-entry sealed the deal when the nanosuit tried and ensured his survival.

Prophet survived all he went through with only the N2 supported by SECOND AI.

Then there's the other things.

The rate at which the CryFibril gather energy, forces my whole body to adapt.

To mutate.

Again.

To safeguard my conscience from being digitalized unintentionally and prevent further complications, Mobius predicted and made the necessary preparations; the FIRST Assist, SECOND AI, and THIRD Overwatch were made and transferred; embedded into a newly made omni pip; a simple one-inch wide form-fitting bracelet that I now wear.

The Crysis CryNet Nanosuit 2 collects fuel-energy through the CryFibril, the same nano-weave that also serves as the power source and medium for [Semiautonomous Enhanced Combat Ops: Neuro-integration Delivery] (SECOND) AI. It is non-sentient and functions the same way as a personality matrix, but it can learn. The same way it did when Prophet wore the Nanosuit. Through experience.

And I've had something that I already use that Mobius referred to as the [Full-Integration Response System Tacticity] (FIRST). It was my design back in the Vault. Then upgraded by Collins, Osborn, and Hanford prompting Mobius to give it a name. He and I smoothed the openings. Mostly Mobius but maintained by me even now. It utilizes the data crystal chip I have inside my Elite Riot Gear.

In comparison; FIRST does what is needed like, a brain to keep the body subconsciously alive, unrestricted. The SECOND keeps the body alive deliberately, against all odds it encounters for as long as it can even if limited to 1.5 Billion Instructions Per Second; simultaneously. Both can take any form; warn/inform me via HUD, send a panic signal of sorts through a specific neural bundle and trigger a reflexive counter, anything.

I have the FIRST and the SECOND. What about the THIRD?

The [Tactical Hybrid Immersion Resolution Device] (THIRD). It calculates, analyzes, reorganizes, and oversees the end result of both the FIRST and the SECOND then makes the appropriate adjustment at any of the two's "instructions" or "set of instructions" to come at an effective, much conclusive outcome and/or otherwise, when needed. All that, by utilizing CryFibril and data crystal chips to coordinate any tasks or instructions it needs to perform. This is made so that I can immerse myself with the problem at hand while the THIRD simultaneously analyzes the other problems-to-be-solved for synchronous solving. It was made by Mobius together with the rest of the Cybernetics Division. Very useful and interesting, but not perfect.

When all was ensured as according to Mobius, the symbiosis resumed. According to projections; the suit's capabilities and features will become an addition of sorts to my list of normal biological capacity.

It will no longer be the suit I use to control my strength. By the time 100% symbiosis is reached, I would've adapted the control into my biology. I could train and gain the control, yes. But I must prepare for times of high stress and be careful to not complicate things. As with many others before me, I could easily lose my mind.

Just—

One,

Heavy,

Offset.

I get energy starved very fast as I pursue symbiosis, actively, passively, and otherwise.

I can only last for 13 hours of non-stop combat before I die to integrity loss—lose cohesion of my body parts cell by cell. Like a spore thing.

Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah...

I blame the fungi spore for this and my stubbornness to adapt to fungi virus. Prophet didn't have this kind of problem. He theoretically has improved N2, I'll even call it the N3; get it?

Because his suit fully merged with his biology to become his flesh and blood to survive atmospheric re-entry? N3? Nuh—?

...

...

Fucking forget it.

...

...

Anyways,

Getting energy starved means pain and death for me. It was solved by a few hundred micro-zeta breeders constantly feeding the energy and radiation direct to my skin through several omni pip bracelets at my four appendages. Arms and legs. Wrists and ankles.

Then I asked Mobius what if I lost access to a stable energy supply.

You know what he did? He fucking dosed himself with mentats. Not enough for an overdose, but enough that I think it far surpasses a single NZT pill at efficiency and effectivity.

The end result is me getting stuck here in this recovery vat thinking of things while I wait for Mobius to finish whatever I caused him to get into.

I've been waiting for a few days now. Mom knows I'm here at the ship. But nothing of what really happened.

I tested VATS.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited—

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

—Mobius came floating in.

It was unbelievable.

So long as I have energy, I can leave VATS on. Longest time I have tested VATS on isolated power before it fried a few of my neurons and nerves is at nine minutes. Flat. I haven't even activated Implan—err Organ GRX from then on.

Imagine that.

Nine minutes of sped up perception. Nine minutes of relative duration outside bullet time.

Then if I connect it to a supply of energy, it will last for as long as that energy is supplied and it will not fry my nerves and neurons to get more bioelectricity.

I turned my attention to Mobius, "What happened." My voice came the same garbled sound as I'm submerged in this recovery vat.

"We've discovered Eridium, eh, not to be confused with Iridium. To avoid confusion, it's Eh-ridium. Not Ih-ridium. A radioactive material that absorbs anything and stores it as usable clean energy source." He materialized a table in front of him, followed by other equipment.

"Do you plan on storing that on my omni pip then?" I pointed to the purple ore.

"Not store, but for you to adapt after we've found a way how."

"All that time you spent and you just have me do something I could've done on a whim?"

"Not just that, I've discovered much more for SCIENCE!"

I nodded, "Okay, what are these discoveries."

"Alien sentinel shield is completely replicated with increased capacity and function copied from the four test subjects' previous equipment. This involves rapid healing provided by the shielding device, additional healing from proportional physical damage done to the shield, and finally; extreme resistance against electricity and corrosive attacks/damage. The so-called Class Optimization Mods sadly remains uncooperative no matter how Hanford prodded it for information. The guns at the other hand... are nothing but simple if not unique."

"Simple? They tore through my body!"

"Yet our tests have shown that they fire just the same like any other guns. It's mind boggling I tell you!" He shouted back at me.

They really are video game characters, they might have had the perks or skills that let them do what they did. Maybe part of the reason why Hanford or Mobius can't make the COMs work is that it requires video game characters and their skills or classes to properly function.

"So the guns are useless."

"No, they aren't."

"Well, say it already. The suspense' giving me headaches. Figuratively."

"The firepower behind each round remains a mystery of how it tore through your body. But we've reversed engineered how a revolver fires seven bullets from one round. How a sniper does the same. How an SMG fires fast enough to accumulate heat but not actually heat up even when firing two bullets from one round. A shot gun that shoots randomized effect from fire, explosion, electricity, and aci—err corrosion."

"Acid, corrosion; same thing when you're hurt by it. But, will it be applied to my weapons?"

"Yes."

"Ohhhh, mama. Johnny's gonna get wild. Tell me more about this... application."

Imagine it, firing electric rounds then acid the next. Even if they have shields it wouldn't protect them for long. Unless it's a photonic resonance barrier.

"Don't you want to have near unlimited supply of energy?"

"That too... Okay, sure. That first and then we can talk about those weapons when you've improved them beyond expectations."

"Alright, it begins with this ingot looking ore. Eridium—as I said before—converts almost anything to energy; solar, kinetic, radiation, et cetera. It can do what CryFirbil does at the highest level, functioning as a battery for use on those organic looking guns' magazine—"

So they are not Zetan of origin and was literally an unlimited battery, if a little limited in capacity.

"—however, it quickly runs out of stored energy when used without the right circuitry. That is one of our problems."

Now I know why the Zetans seemed to be doing timed shots all those moments.

"Then we've got the idea. If Eridium gathers any other energy into one usable energy stored into its storage, then why not add it to the setup of microfusion breeder and Zetan energy cell or battery?

"Let the Eridium absorb the energy and funnel it into the reservoir of zetan energy cells where it gets processed into theta energy and use the theta energy for the microfusion breeder to form fissile material. But it seems to not work to our expectations and projections. It outright destroys our observed facts about it."

I... actually approve. This is much less of a convenient plot device than how— I, in the past as Alexander Mercer, made all kinds of shit work with bullshit [OP-Gamer-Powers-Logic™] where I made stones of pure energy that can and will sustain themselves for eternity.

Although I can't really argue, it worked to save them.

Them.

It was worth it.

"So, Richard—"

The entire ship clunked and hummed.

"What was that?"

"...Osborn found a way to integrate those alien sentinel shields with the gamma shield that this ship has." Mobius reported, "This, AHA! Astonishing! It looks like it wasn't just Hanford who received my words."

"What, what happened?"

"Our shields are self-sufficient."

"Well, yeah, it should be."

"No, not just run indefinitely and fizzle when given enough damage kind of self-sufficient like your plans; the absorb anything that is MOBIU—I mean absorb anything absorbable kind of self-sufficiency."

Hmmm, "So say, an enemy, attacks with this giant plasma cannon...?"

"The plasma shot towards us will be absorbed into the energy systems for the shield, the rest that the shield can't take is taken as damage on the actual shield."

"Just like how CryFibril works. Except it's a shield using the actual tech from the alien sentinels and those psychos."

"Exactly."

"Quick question; is our ship's surface covered in CryFibril? If not, then why it isn't?"

"While CryFibril is incredibly resilient; it does not, however, have the capacity to withstand constant FTL travel speeds. Although the interior of our ship is covered with cryfibril. Hanford argued otherwise with Maximum Armor, but the energy consumption... It's too high."

Alright, I guess? But how do even FTL work for Zetans and these Alien things? Halo Slipspace, 40k Imperium Warpspeed, Terran Warpdrive, Hyperdrives? Phantom Drives? Maybe they can also do wormholes? Questions for later, for now—"How fast is our repurposed Think Tank Research Craft?"

"Just hovering."

"Just hovering." I parroted. "Last I remember we have thrusters to make it space worthy."

"Our navigation, as I've mentioned before; depends on LIFT and NAVV Systems. Level-Instrument Frictionless Transport (LIFT) System and Neutral Aquila Vortex-Vector (NAVV) Systems."

"I can't be expected to understand how it specifically functions when given the name. What if I gave you a device aptly called [WIRED] and then you spent eternity trying to plug it in when it was wireless in the first place?"

"Our... naming convention has been a tradition to not mislead our own scientists. The government has only intervened to perform shock and awe tactics to get proper funding and spread whatever they need as well as accomplishing other agendas."

Hmm. This is getting too close to Names Have Power schtick.

"As the name suggests, LIFT System is an instrument that provides frictionless transport at any level. With the level being the coordinates."

That's... a good thing we got with naming inventions almost near to its functions. But, "I'm going to assume that NAVV System involves the fact that everything in the universe moves; taking into account the Aquila as our ship, an eagle in that name's sense, and calculates the near vortex like revolution of every large heavenly bodies to predict the distance as safe for our travelling? Does this account for dark energy? Heavenly bodies do not act like vortex after all."

"Yes. And— yes."

"But if that is how those two systems are, it would mean that we need to—"

"—teleport with the same technology your omni pip does to store items."

Instantaneous travel from my patch job of an omni pip to recreate the in-game fallout inventory. Just like that, and we can now teleport ships into wherever.

"Wait. We've sidetracked. Just make sure your... reverse engineered equipment from those psychopaths are ready for use. Except the PIP-Pad lookalike."

"These are the current samples." He gestured with his screens at the table.

"I hope they are under improvement..."

"Of course."

"Alright, back to the space ship talk. Is the Research Craft sturdy enough?"

"Everything that was once ceramic in the whole Think Tank structure got replaced with CryFibril. The plating and hull were made with adamantium and carbon titanite; as well as the craft's skeletal structure. Carbon-saturnite strips line the entire ship that is then connected to the layers of CryFibril to redirect absorbed energies. Other safeties are also in place, like the CryFibril and ceramite combination as impact-absorbers at key supports of the entire craft's structure."

"That's... actually great against known weapons." It came out my mouth as I thought of, well, weapons. There's actual lead-based anti-aircraft weapons that still pose enough threat. There're plasma or tesla weaponry from other possible Zetan ships like the mega death ray under this Zetan Mothership. But let's not forget about MAC.

"Of course, it doesn't stop there. Or the shields stop everything first. We still employ Photonic Resonance Barriers (PRB) due to the extent of its capacity to receive the Ionizing Plasma Cannon without damage. Experiments prove that it can coalesce with other PRBs when deployed to overlap one other. But it does not show improvement.

"Also, it does not work the same way the zetan shields do, or the same way the alien sentinels' does. It only needs a steady supply, nothing too heavy. But there's one weakness. It can be deactivated when someone discovers it's frequency."

Yes, sadly, I can remember that when I examined my samples from Sierra Madre through my omni pip.

"So, I trust that Osborn will do the same to the Think Tank Research Craft with his recent work?"

"Already under way."

"What about Dala? I've got her the schematics, we have the data; how's our own army?"

"We need more resources. Fear not. We are currently having gutsy bots scatter our GECK Mk. V across Mars so we can soon have a suitable place for said army and an efficient resource supply."

"Alright."

I floated in the tank and did my own experiments while Mobius left to do whatever he does best.

"SCIENCE!"

"I concur with you Chief Director. FOR SCIENCE! AHAHAH—"

Damn, I really like this Mobius.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

Capital Wasteland...

I saw Rivet City, a beached aircraft carrier, repurposed and repaired by the brotherhood after the enclave tried another attack. The population was decimated, but most of the ship's entire structure was still salvageable; it was repaired to acceptable levels and the brotherhood grew all the more... popular and idolized in the capital wasteland.

The Institute, with my meddling, affiliated itself with the brotherhood and helped in creating a stable environment and pursued human augmentation at an ethical level. My actions may or may not have involved a certain MILF SS... alright, it did. I don't know how it happened or why the Sole Survivor looked like a MILF.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

Arizona...

From Arizona, a flood of red rampaged. Like a hornet's nest when attacked.

The attacker? No one. It was just Caesar dying. They assumed he was poisoned when he drank from his cup during his usual feast. Their loyalty to Caesar was to the extreme. I never cared to know how Caesar sustained an army. Both in the game and in here.

And their loyalty showed. They were preparing for years. Grabbing women and children. The women, junkie or not, were raped to birth children for their cause. Female children were groomed to proper health then raped once they bled their first. Male children were indoctrinated through suffering and pain.

They had manpower; they never lacked the work force to till the lands and grow crops. Nor the capacity to sustain any loss they have. The wasteland provided them; teeth, claw, hide, horns, and bones of anything that can be used was used.

They bred deathclaws just for the sole purpose of harvesting its parts after it had served its usefulness in training their initiates. Super mutants were hunted for their bones, their meat used as carrot for their pets. Gecko hide were used as the standard for clothing.

Every animal and enemy they fought they cannibalized for whatever they needed.

They resumed their claiming of the Mojave as a "tribute" to their leader, "the chosen of mars".

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

NCR...

The corruption continued, need I say more?

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

Mojave...

...was more stable than ever before. The only problem was the wildlife.

NCR continued its occupation of the Mojave, Mr. House grew ever richer, but the people grew more. My intervention on their lives caused many things I can't be bothered to track.

The strip was flowing with more people from NCR. The Freeside, was a bit safer and more functional. Barricaded buildings were now used for establishing random businesses. Most of which lack electricity and water. Only a select few does.

The area outside Freeside became the new squatter's area, except West Side where their little community thrived from the increased trade.

Every settlement in the Mojave was in trade and is living life without the threat of death hounding you every step.

But Jacobstown was even more stable. The enclave safe house near the Mt. Charleston lodge was used by the ghouls and the followers of apocalypse as a base of operations.

The whole range was divided up for proper use. The lodge as barracks, the outer areas near the safe house were the farms, and the only road to get in or out of the mountain was barricaded with stones and scraps of whatever they could find.

It became a beacon for every ghoul, super mutants and humans.

...Then all went to shit.

The sea of red flooded through the least resistance and decimated anything they could find, assimilating what they think useful, eradicating threats to their cause with nothing but machete, animal hide, repeater guns, their drive to their cause, and the land around them.

First one was Fortification Hill, followed by the assault on Hoover dam.

The robot army held fast with quickly constructed barricades and with the NCR Ranger reinforcements.

But from Nipton to Novac, from Primm to Goodsprings, the red legion flowed.

Jacobstown shined more brighter than the Lucky 38 and its ambience from the Strip.

Hundreds of people flocked in with every resource they could offer just to get safe away from the legion.

Jacobstown thrived with even more hands to help. The underground tunnel system was brought to completion and was outfitted with facilities they could manage. The farm was expanded to accommodate for a lot of people. Some trees were cut down to make some much needed space. They managed to produce more than needed and had room to grow more livestock.

The Mojave survived the first wave.

...Then, simultaneously, the attack at the capital wasteland began in earnest.

Not by the legion, but by the enclave.

Their numbers were still far too high. Far too fast in recovery. Then it was discovered they knew how to clone from one of the Vaults where they found one occupant named Gary and his army of Gary.

Yet, for all their skirmishes, they accomplished nothing except waste resources trying to attack settlements.

Every settlement they could get their hands on fought back with tenacity far outmatching their plans and capabilities. They lost numbers. The people gained weapons and armor.

The brotherhood became even more of a beacon for people to flock into.

Things seemed to be stable even if people like the enclave and legion were around and attacking.

All was good after surviving those attacks, right?

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

Time passes... and,

Things... wanted to prove me wrong.

Something that shouldn't exist in this universe decided to give me a wakeup call.

A wormhole as big as the moon appeared and was quickly followed by Ceph ships that went out the same wormhole near the Earth's magnetosphere.

We met them with continuous mega death ray beams firing at an interval of five seconds between each shot. It was a lost cause for their invasion.

They dropped like flies— in this case, drifted around earth.

As a final act, we charged one shot towards the wormhole before some tentacle monster could spawn out of it, it caused their Einstein-Rosen bridge to collapse.

We won.

Just like that.

But things... still wanted to prove me wrong.

Before the wormhole collapsed fully, something came out. Something that would've been the joy of many 40k fans.

But no. The Imperial ship immediately rained fire down on our shields.

We answered with the mega death ray firing on them with intervals of five seconds while I hijacked the ARCHIMEDES II satellite and repositioned it to target the Imperial ship.

Then the imperials decided to also attack the Think Tank Research Craft floating nearby our Zetan Mothership.

Their attacks never punched through our shields.

But ours punched through theirs and their ship.

And before they could even attempt to abandon ship, primed nuclear warheads pelted them.

A half-dozen nuclear detonations ensured no living thing survived. I checked, personally.

The debris from the Ceph spaceships and the Imperial ship were quickly teleported to Big Mountain where I had them commence the making of a spaceship and an underground where we can have it docked. Mobius suggested those be made at Mars for quick mining of resources and direct access to those resources. I tried to argue but, he did make a good point. The handymen can do the job at Mars already. And since Mars will be terraformed with more than 10 GECK Mk. V, it'll be habitable within the following year.

I can make planet Mars my base of operations and create an army of Gen 3 Synths. It helped that we already had a few Gen 3 Synths that Dala had made to help us in what we lack; a manpower, even a synthetic one's, to start on making Mars our planet. I can cut loose and forsake the effects of pollution when you can clean the pollution faster than you can make with a GECK Mk. V.

Hmm... We can also siphon off gaseous material from Venus if we can get a resource carrier made. Transport is not a problem when you can teleport.

Alright, that's the first thing needed. Get a resource carrier ship.

The problem would be the ships for the army; the guns or offensive weaponry to attack or fend off attackers.

We could build mass accelerated cannons (Halo), ionizing plasma cannons (mega death ray from Zeta), concentrated laser strike (ARCHIMEDES II), or just teleport activated nuclear warheads on the idiots who think they can attack us?

Not many franchises of science fiction have shown the capability to block quantum tunneling and super-positioning... but then there's things that can.

This isn't canon.

There's a lot of unknown amongst the vast amount of omniverses I haven't even gone to.

For all I know, just one powerful race could get subjugated by an even more powerful race and then those tyrants could just decide they don't like me and decides to send their subjugated powerful species.

Not that I'd be meeting with them soon. I'll build myself an army first and make sure I get more powerful or something.

I don't want a repeat of Alexander Mercer.

Too many things going on and too many plans led to a series of very convoluted events through the past, present, and future. As well as omniverses.

Some happened that didn't, shouldn't, and couldn't—just because I was a child without his true memories. Even if I was old as fuck.

But the only thing I have now are these jumbled memories.

I can use them as lessons to learn from.

Don't just fuck around. Get better.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

"Uhh, Richard. What am I looking at?"

"The mechanisms that let your guns—our weaponry—to function similar to those looted from the crazed prisoners."

"And you thought it best to install it on our ships?"

"Yes!"

"Why?"

"A question to answer yours, have they run out of bullets?"

That—

That is a good question. Have those fours psychopaths did? All they did was reload and fire a fuckton of rounds at me.

Yes, their magazines do run out, but they seemed to just reload and reload and reload.

"I never knew." I answered and leaned back on my chair wearing the Nanosuit without the Visor.

"They can't."

"What do you mean they can't?"

He materialized a PIP-Pad lookalike. "Inside this device was their conscience. Upon removal of said conscience, however, it destroyed what was inside. What remained were examined and extracted.

"We've found out that the submachine gun and the revolver as well as two other class optimization mod connect to the device automatically; regardless of circumstance, except that it must be sustained with energy. It bore some questions of why."

"So you looked deeper."

"Yes, we did. We've met problems. Then Osborn decided we weren't using our, to quote; "Science-goggles", end quote."

"I get that. But why is this thing... installed on my ship as well as every other ship?"

"INFINITE AMMO IN THE NAME OF RICHARD FREEM—MOBIUS! AHAHAHAHAHA—"

I lost Mobius.

The guns and class optimization mods connect to the PIP-Pad and generate ammo...

Somehow, I don't know how—as usual—but they've reverse engineered it and got us infinite ammo. And even more frightening; a fleet of warships with infinite ammo. Even if it was lead-based or some other ammunition, nonetheless, infinite ammunition.

We could win a battle of attrition.

"But what if the enemy has shields?" I asked.

Mobius suddenly stopped and adopted a nonchalant air around him, "Eh, have Collins and Osborn drop some warheads."

"Alright, on the same subject, how come we haven't suffered the EMP aftereffects of those warheads we've used?"

"Great question," Mobius snapped back to his normal eccentricity "This Zetan ship has the proper plating and shielding. Not to mention upon our tenure, we've implemented far better shields than them. Oh, and Earth has it's atmosphere. The warheads detonated outside the magnetosphere."

"Really? That's it? The magnetosphere shielded us? On top of our shields capable of also doing the same?"

"Of course."

Okay, if I remember right; we have shields that can absorb energy attacks and even normal radiation to power itself. In the event of an overload, the actual shield gets damaged, consuming stored energy. We practically have infinite energy but takes a while to fill up when its depleted.

Meaning, we can sustain the shield for as long as we want provided nothing attacks us, we can also shoot our energy weapons so long as we time it right and not deplete our energy.

Then, we have ship turrets that can shoot rounds as big as tanks with what I guess is a fire rate of 9-11 rounds per minute.

Also, with infinite ammo.

Then comes our Magnet Accelerator Cannons like those from Halo, just with infinite ammo. No more, pesky ammunition resupply. Just stick in those things that Mobius and Osborn made, bam, infinite ammo.

"Are those same... features, available to my weapons?"

"We have connected it to your omni pip bracelets, should you have any of our manufactured guns then it is. Should you use a weapon not of Big Mountain tech, it most likely wouldn't. BUT! IT MUST BE A WEAPON! Any deviation from a weapon and the device stops producing ammo."

"Alright, enough weapons review. Let's talk about the ships."

The door opened, "What would you want to know, Chief Director?" Osborn asked as he floated into the room.

"As much as it is for coincidence; Warship Infinity, how can it travel?"

"How do you want it to travel?"

"Instantaneou—"

"We have it on board running on a different power source."

"Warp—

"Same."

"Slips—"

"Same."

"Wormhole."

"That... is still unavailable. Although the other methods of travel are very close to the nature of a wormhole, we still find ourselves missing a focusing device. A tuning fork to tune with. And the right systems to calculate and maintain the opening of a wormhole so we may not accidentally collapse it on our opening, passage, and exit." Osborn answered, his screens twitching in irritation.

"Well; we can teleport, travel at a speed that everything warps around us, travel through another dimension within a universe at FTL then exit at the destination, but we can't connect two places and travel between them." I recounted.

"That is correct," Mobius piped up.

"Indeed," Osborn added.

"We need it, keep on the tests. Turning to other matters; those power sources you mentioned, are they isolated? Just one unknown invisible enemy can rig one of it and blow us all to kingdom come."

Osborn beeped and seemed to cheer like he did something good, "They are and more. Nano-weaves and those heat absorbing metals are in place to prevent overheating as well as absorb excess energy to divert it to wherever needed while 3rd generation Synths patrol wearing Nanosuit 1. Hologram emitters surveying every corner of the warship."

Okay. That. Is fucking terrifying. I have Nanosuit 2, yes. I am wearing it right now.

But a Synth made by Dala is already as strong as a Lone Wanderer with max stats and skills as well as all the perks you could cram into it. Then you make it wear the Nanosuit 1?

Any Spartan of the UNSC can't hope to fight them and win the war. A battle yes, but a war? I don't think so.

But oh fucking no. It doesn't end there.

Remember my omni pip? We've finished the quantum communications upgrade. Mostly Mobius. But I helped too!

So; a 3rd Generation Synthetic Human hooked up to an upgraded 1st Generation Nanosuit that can communicate and receive data through quantum communication armed with guns of infinite ammunition; what more could you want?

An improved Synth.

Because why the fuck not?

Whatever surgery and operation I went through to upgrade myself? Slap it onto a Gen 3 Synth. Then give them the Nanosuit 2.

You a get a version of my Generation 4 Synth. This is very different from the series of Synths that Alexander Mercer made from the earlier chapters.

It's a long and time-costly process for me to get one; they're the Generation 3 Synths that undergo the implantation and surgery of having the organic equivalent of Fallout Implants developed from tissue sample of mine. Then give them Spartan II Augmentation, though they are not like me, meaning; no quick adaptation, only their natural biology must do the work.

The Gene-Seed is not a part of the equation. It'll give me giant men that can't do infiltration. That'd be weird and obvious that they were infiltrated by massively tall synths.

I can't do things like, make Gen 5s and Gen 6s from thin air. I don't possess any convenient plot device like magic or some other stuffs. All I can do is massively terraform Mars and build my army for some time then start universe hopping to prevent ROBs homing on my location.

But,

I'm already experiencing the attacks from random things. Time will come where eldritch abominations drag me to who knows where.

"Alright, that's good... Wait, what's with these reports that Hologram Emitters can see through a stealth field module... how can a hologram emitter do that?" I nodded to Osborn and asked the question.

"By emitting light and observing those light if it had been distorted or disturbed. If it stops, then it must be blocked by something or that's the extent of surrounding walls. It then runs any findings to its targeting systems and checks for conditions to see how it will respond. This is the basic premise while the actual programming is much more complex." Osborn answered.

"Okay then. Keep researching things, I'll do mine. Dismissed."

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

Disease, Trauma, Aging.

The three reasons why living things die.

Evolution.

The reason why they need to die.

But when you've made yourself secure against Disease, Trauma, and Aging, how will you evolve?

How can you evolve?

You improvise.

You adapt.

You overcome.

Because when you lose everything, you only have yourself to cling onto. Nothing more, nothing less.

While I've pushed to create an army, I'm under attack from things. Causing massive loss in resources. Which I have an almost inexhaustible supply of.

The only silver lining to it was that it was random but done by the same things.

The attackers?

Mimics.

Live. Die. Repeat.

Because All You Need Is Kill.

I can't care whether it's the original or the American adaptation; Edge of Tomorrow.

It brought mind boggling count of timeline shift, restructure, looping;

Zero.

Even when taking into account any monitoring in any sort of quantum effects when an alpha mimic dies.

Nothing.

Of all the synths that had killed an alpha mimic, bathed in its viscera, and ingested its said viscera, nothing ever reported anything. Not even the fact that it should be made of nanites and silicate materials.

Even with everyone questioned, not one had reported anything. Even those that had yet to kill and then specifically designated to bathe in an alpha mimic's blood -even ingest it-, there were no effect or whatsoever.

Even when I analyzed the blood sample nor when I ingested another sample and tried to adapt it into my biology; nothing.

It was all blank.

Not even on the level of the Vault 22's Beauveria Mordicana's byproduct of blank cells. It was trash. Instantly turned into base molecules and used for fuel-energy.

Notice that all these attacks happened on Mars. There are no starfishes here on Mars and yet they look exactly like the movie adaptation and not the manga.

And why not Earth?

Earth has no solid defenses. Sure, there are mechas, clones, synths, power armored armies, super mutants, ghouls, and mutated wildlife INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO; yao guai, radscopions, deathclaws, night stalkers, mirelurks, and radsharks. Not to forget the hardy humans that survived thus far.

Damn. Okay, when I say it like that it seems that Earth has a chance just like my base of operations here in Mars... But these are time travelling species with the condition of death to travel!

And having to—at very least—reach into a conclusion that these species that attacked are more of... game event. Where they are but mobs or cannon fodder, attacking for the sole purpose of giving me EXP. They first attacked in a wave. Then another, and another, ad nauseam. It could mean they are just that, enemy mobs from a game further proved by their blank biology.

And these things are the longest to attack in numerous waves. Always ruining my resources. Stalling me in building an... army?

Can that indicate someone does not want me to have an army?
Was someone sending those attack to probe for what happened after those previous attacks?
Why are there attacks in the first place?

My current play through in this universe is already heavily modded to throw off as much shit as it can.

Clearly, I am missing something else—... maybe it's that time. Someone has already found me or someone was just figuring out where I am by sending an ungodly number of mobs everywhere across omniverses then tracking me through whatever means it was.

Ugh. Thank God for unlimited storage.

I accessed the communications system. Quantum communications system.

"This is Chief Director Jack Balthazar to all personnel; postpone any and all activity and begin transport aboard Warship Infinity. Expedite resource gathering and move every single thing into Warship Infinity. We will commence travelling after a week. Observe standard operating procedures."

I can't directly adapt to these enemies, so I'll improvise.

Once I've done improvising, I'll adapt the methods and actions that led me to safety, by then I'd have overcome the problem.

My experiments and job as Chief of Directors continue.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

Slipspace...

"Disengage the Multiverse Variable;"

The corresponding beeps and hums felt great to my ears as we journeyed inside slipspace.

"Complete,"

"Deploy Quantum Anchor-Ships."

Quantum anchors, self-sustaining ship made for its namesake; to allow us to return or perhaps navigate through an omniverse and last for as long as time exists in the anchored universe... without bullshit [OP-Gamer-Powers-Logic™]. Employing the use of Eridium, CryFibril, Nanites, and the best materials we could make under the most intense gravity wells to ensure nigh indestructible materials as well as other circumstances to form other materials to better our technologies.

3.6 kilometers long and fully automated to defend and attack as well as—with enough time—produce another quantum anchor-ship, it's one of my successes along many others during the three year-long resource gathering spree after we moved everything on Warship Infinity. I saw the bays open, through the screen, as the ships dropped and stabilized themselves to hover in place under us, the Warship Infinity.

"Engage quantum field generation, prime up for random teleport, and wait for my signal."

With the use of telemetry gained from old world satellites of Fallout owned by Big MT, I can track and pinpoint any location to teleport to that specific location using Schrodinger's effect.

Just like with Schrodinger's cat with the cat being me, the box being the location, and whatever else was inside the box with me, that can then trigger my dual existence.

At such point, I am alive and dead. I exist and do not exist. I am everywhere and nowhere. And the act of opening the box, of observing the contents of the box is that which teleports me.

"Go."

I felt the 'tug' for whenever I teleport; I felt it happen to the entire ship... and we seem to have jumped successfully.

The only question would be, "Are we in the same universe?"

The AI stood for a while in her holographic manifestation— "We are not. The Quantum Anchor-Ships do not respond to our Universal Planar-Handshake. It did however, respond to our Multi-versal Reach-Handshake."

I nodded to my—

"—FO3MX-Mars HQ has been attacked! Mimic Omega has been sighte—reports of it reappearing across the battlefield is accumulating!"

Just in time as we escaped from the clusterfuck.

"Method of invasion?" I asked as I stared down on the battle network. Plans of attacks and reports were flooding in, already being sorted and sifted through by the AIs and Vis.

"Wormholes."

Plural. "Activate the counterplans. Prime the Helios Defense Grid on Earth; send Moira the message and broadcast the invasion."

I received a nod from the Holo-AI on my left as the one on my right busied herself.

"Find anything?" I asked.

"Sifting through the reports of time reversal, so far we have nineteen billion and counting."

That...okay, that is fucking fast. Are my Gen 4 Synths on Nanosuit 2 with infinite ammo that terrifyingly good?

—But how does that time reversal report work anyway—you ask?

The Quantum Field covering the Quantum Anchor-Ships inside slipspace prevents tampering with them at the quantum level. It's confusing. I dubbed such scenario as Ghost-Echo, where we accumulate constant reports and changes on said reports. With no real way to verify it except to keep moving forwards, it will seem that things from the report will not really be there. Just like with ghosts or echoes of what have you.

The Mimic Omega is, as according to my suppositions tested by Mobius, using tachyons; as was proved by the tests in our simulations. But it has to be something that took trillions of years of evolution, perhaps more since it is tachyons incorporated to living organisms we are talking about.

It may be possible that the Quantum Anchor-Ships can observe those timeline-tampering unaffected by utilizing Schroedinger's Effect to capture the Ghost-Echoes and compile reports from there. The reports can range from telemetry, battlefield status, supplies, and more. Mostly battlefield field status, for it already involves our casualties, enemy casualties, troop movements, strategy, and tactics.

Being separate from Warship Infinity, the QA-Ships mostly just have to compile and analyze their own reports. Gen 4 Synths inside a Nanosuit 2 also formulate their own reports and submit it to the sub-network dedicated for all QA-Ships in FO3MX Universe. Whatever processed information there is or was, will then be sent to Warship Infinity. Or, in case of dire circumstances, share it within themselves on the sub-network to choose their own course of actions. I didn't give them free will for fun, so that when they made a mistake, I'll make fun of them.

No, I didn't want that. I want them to learn and develop on their own and share that learning to their... I'd call them siblings.

But holy cracker nuts, forty billion and counting or was it sixty and counting? Fuck. That's a lot of resets. It also means we've killed seventy billion alpha mimics or suffered enough Gen 4 Synths bathed in alpha mimic viscera.

We don't need to be tachyon capable organisms, we've made the somewhat-perfect counter.

In the face of time travelling enemies that have themselves limited to an affixed point in time; what can that do to an enemy that could teleport behind their lines, disappear at will, fire as many bullets as they can, and then observe the effects of their time travelling? All the enemy can do is Live. Die. Repeat. Until such time that their omega is eliminated. Our numbers are as replaceable as theirs.

"!"

Klaxons blared.

"Extremely high energy signature approa—"

My omni-sense got blocked. Everything was... muted in a way. My Omni-Sense somehow disappeared. Only my base senses remained.

Everything was snapped into the gray frozen reality.

Familiar.

Very, very familiar frozen gray reality.

"Hello!"

And that, was also the only warning I got before my lips were raided by warmer soft lips and an eager tongue.

A giggle, "Found you." And I was booped in the nose.

I did a double take.

Like, really take in what the fuck just— "Rica?"

"Helloo~!" she promptly buried herself to my neck, arms trying to wrap around my torso. The redheaded bombshell slept hanging on me, since time is frozen in this universe; I can let her do what she wants. The QA-Ships can decide on their own, the orders are and can be looped for as long as necessary.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

Different universe, different time.

Enter [Quantum Mechanics] and you'd get a whole load of problems when you consider the previous four-word sentence.

But, nothing to worry. Bullshit [OP-Gamer-Powers-Logic™] comes to the rescue!

In which case, the time reversal from the FO3MX Universe hadn't stockpiled and caused an infinite loop of time reversal that crashed the onboard quantum computers aboard every other QA-Ship. Warship Infinity might prove its namesake, but the others... not so much.

And Rica finally woke up after an eternity from the both of us sleeping... I'd rather we both sleep than I wait for her to wake up after an eternity. That will turn me insane.

Still, an eternity passed with me sleeping on the comfy chair while I cuddled up Rica. After which, we woke.

Yawning out her sleep she decided to be a bit playful and wiggled her breast. I answered with a deep kiss.

"I found you." She closed her eyes and nuzzled onto me.

I gave a light chuckle, "So you did."

"This suit's in the way." She said, lightly scratching my right pectoral with her nails. "I can't take it off without undergoing extreme pain." I cupped her bubble butt cheek as the other hand combed her hair.

"You're not thinking of what I'm thinking are you?" I asked as she moved to straddle me.

She sighed and looked me in the eyes as I did... "We're running out of time. Just a quickie? I promise to tell everything next chapter or as soon as possible."

"Again, I can't excatl—" I was interrupted to moan into the sudden deep kiss, "Then, take this?" she presented an omni-dimensional object that claws at my comprehension of it.

"If this is the Gamer powers, I'll have to ref—"

"No. You will take it, and you will fuck me."

My eyes bore into hers as hers bore into mine.

I lost.

"Fine." I grabbed the object—

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

It all happened far too quick and when I got hold of myself, I was already cumming balls deep into Rica, "I'll find you again."

We shared one deep kiss... and then she's gone.

I was back in my helmetless nanosuit.

...

"—ching, and it's gone. Any inputs, Chief Director?"

The Klaxons levelled out as I eyed the Holo-AI, "Set it aside and push on. The last report was at eight hundred nine septillion right—...?"

Wait. That's, okay motherfucker. Gamer's Mind is in effect. "ACTIVATE QUANTUM FIELD!"

It's enough to cause an alarm. We've exited the random teleportation and thus have disabled the quantum field.

"Time reversals are... in the googols." The Holo, no, we'll refer to her as Cortana.

"Box-in on the previous known locations of the Omega Mimic. Deploy all ships on FO3MX. Ensure those orders gets in the loop."

I received a nod.

-x-x-x-
To craft a war

[] Solve the Mimic attacks
[] Engage another jump

+ Progress towards next chapter.
-x-x-x-

The screen appeared in front of me.

"Are there patterns—"

"Omega Mimic has been killed." Cortana-L reported.

"Mimic activity has been supplanted." Cortana-R supplied.

-x-x-x-
'Solve the Mimic attacks' completed.
-x-x-x-

Oh. I tried to solve it before the quest, and now its completed? not Cool.

"Disable Quantum Shields, deploy QA-Ships." The bay opened and the QA-Ships activated their slipspace drive and punched into slipspace to activate their own quantum field in there.

"We're engaging another jump; reactivate the Quantum Field, disengage Multiverse Variable, and observe Schrodinger's Effect."

The ship entered slipspace as the quantum field activated, then I felt the same tug on the ship again.

"Status?"

Cortana-L and R parsed data for a few moments, "We are in another universe."

"Good. Deploy another QA-Ship."

This time, as the bay opened, I saw the three QA-Ships already punching into slipspace as no sooner had their bow pushed down and exited the bay had they entered slipspace.

"Whose idea was that?"

Cortana-L and Cortana-R looked at each other before looking at me, "Ours."

"Alright. Great job. Keep it up. But try to give a few allowance, it might rupture our ship's underside."

-x-x-x-
'Engage another jump' completed.
-x-x-x-

Okay...?

-x-x-x-
To craft a war

[/] Sole the mimic attacks
[/] Engage another jump

+ Progress towards next chapter.
-x-x-x-

Hmm... Stats?

-x-x-x-
Access Denied.
To access, please complete: [?]
-x-x-x-

Damn.

"How many ships do we have left?" I asked Cortana-R.

"We have 54 QA, 90 Fighters, 30 Recon, 15 Resource, 10 Research, 1500 Drone ships, 1 MS Zeta... do you need the whole list Chief? It's quite a lot."

I didn't reply. Because I'm busy thinking how I'd access my stats, and if I could initiate some other jumps to get a map of my travels; setup points of references.

"Alright. Disengage the Multiverse Variable for the next 17 random teleportation. The same as before, deploy QA Ships on unestablished universe as we go."

Both Cortana R and L nodded and announced the jumps to the whole ship.

"Say the signal, Chief."

"Go."

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

Randomly teleporting to universes that you know nothing about is... dangerous. More so when you know there are ROBs and whatnot out there hunting for you.

And there's a lot of them spread across the infinite omniverses.

Then there's that saving grace, infinite omniverses. Not all of those ROBs are capable of controlling or having their own omniverse.

As far as I can remember.

Not that I am complacent with that knowledge. It's part of the reason why I poured myself on acquiring Big Mountain and spent ungodly amounts of effort to develop technologies.

Let me introduce; Warship Infinity.

Flying at 163km long, 21km tall, and 56km wide.

This indomitable flying space fortress is now the home of the greatest minds of Big Mountain as well as their innovations and discoveries.

Across the entire ship's surface, it can generate crystalline formation to disguise the ship like the Nanosuit 2 does. It is then supplemented by the improved Stealth Field Module Mark 59. With Mark 6, the mental side effects of the SFM are solved, the problem came when implemented upon ships. Hence, Mark 59 where it was solved.

With fully reversed engineered tech from the Zetans, the usage of gravity wells allowed the production of ultra-dense and ultra-light ship components. Adamantium-3A, Ceramite-1C, Saturnite-7Sa, Plasteel-11P, Eridium-49E, Glasteel-12G, and many more.

The ship could take a MAC round of either Tungsten or depleted Uranium and there'd be little to no problem as it hits the ship. The kinetic impact will be negated by ultra-light saturnite and ceramite with ultra-dense adamantium as support. What cannot be negated is readily taken by CryFibril linings and Eridium to turn into fuel-energy for the ship. All without energy shields.

Now, if you consider the shields and kinetic barriers, well... It's a nigh impregnable space fortress capable of sustaining itself through harvesting energy and converting those harvested energy with Self-Contained Matter Transformation Devices into useful materials.

With unlimited storage capacity.

"We've finished the queue Chief." Cortana-L reported.

Hmm... "Find similarities to Earth, Sol System, or the Milky Way Galaxy. Anything that resembles humanity across all those universes we went through."

"Already finished Chief. Sometimes, I doubt you even know our protocols." Cortana-R said with something that resembles... snide, or snark, I guess?

"Eh, not my job." I replied and she reacted as if she was scandalized. "Chief Director! It is your job!" She corrected what seems to be an affront to her.

"What are you— where is this coming from?"

She crossed her arms and pinched her nose bridge, "Never mind Chief. Never. mind."

I shrugged and turned to Cortana-L, "Any match with those observations?"

"Three actually." Cortana-L said.

"Okay, which ones are they?"

"The 3rd, 8th, and the current one."

"Hmmm... We suck at this naming sense. But, let's get closer to the current one. Right at the edge of the system."

"Give me the signal, Chief."

"Punch it."

And zoom we went through the slipspace. The rough transition of when we first tested all the FTL modes of travel is now just a 'tap' on the ship, through the proper use and adjustment of the ship's structure, the plating, and the hull.

We exited right into an asteroid field. Not belt. A field. It provides natural deterrent against unwanted things if the humans here are advanced enough to detect said unwanted thing.

"What's their broadcasted signals say?"

Cortana-R swiveled to give me a deadpan, "Tier-2"

"Alright. I'll be going there personally. Take my vacation, perhaps? You know what? I put Dala and Mobius in charge."

Cortana-R's deadpan deadpanned, "You. Cannot. Be. Serious. That's a disaster!"

"You do have a point. So, I'll appoint you, Cortana-L, and Mobius in charge."

"Who's Cortana-L?"

Really? I'm—ugh. My hand waved towards the Holo-AI on the left.

"That's unfair!"

"You're Cortana-R."

"That's not even better!"

"You'll get over your phase. Trust me, it gets better. Keep her in line for me L?"

I received a smile and a, "Sure." From Cortana-L.

I looked down on my left arm as I called on the omni bracelet's Holo-HUD. My eyes read through the data and found where mom is.

Ever since Mobius implemented LIFT and NAVV, every single one of us are now able to personally teleport towards our designated location. Provided said personnel is fully bonded to a Nanosuit 2, has an omni bracelet, and the necessary components stored in said omni bracelet.

Now that I think of it, how come it took a lot of resets just to teleport a warhead on top of an omega mimic?

Moving on, I found mom bent over a table doing one of her projects regarding stim packs.

A smirk settled on my lips as I willed my nanosuit away and left me naked. I approached Catherine placing my arms around her waist as my tool slide between her legs.

"Oh my, Jack. I've—mmm—" My lips cut her words, left hand massaging her left breast through the ceramite-treated fabric.

"Mom."

She moaned, "Yes, Jack?"

"What do you think of going onto a vacation? Maybe start your own science community or something?" I humped her, my cock sliding between her pressed thighs and very warm slit.

"Whatever you say, kiss me again?"

I obliged and kissed her.

"Can we... Can, can we... uh..."

"Not until you say it." I slowed down to a stop, my pulsing cock angled at her entrance blocked by her underwear.

"..." her eyes begged me.

"...You know mom, I'll give you a gift once we got settled on the earth we've found."

The smile on her lips returned, eyes full of anticipation.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

Wearing a typical business attire, as was with mom, we teleported into what looks like a mountain range.

/Begin Insight-01

||Please wait.

I waited.

"Mom, since we're not from around here, I'll have to make IDs for us. That said, we don't have a last name."

She crossed her arms under her breast, emphasizing them, as she tapped her foot on the ground in thought.

"I got nothing. Wait! We, I, uh, hmm, what was... we could have... Silverdrift?" She said.

"One word? Silverdrift, like that?" I asked to clarify, projecting the words into a hologram in front of her.

She nodded.

"Not objecting, but, why?"

"Your eyes, and, things?"

"And things?"

"Mmhm." She nodded sagely.

I closed my arms around her back and gave her a peck on lips, "Thanks mom."

"Anything."

||Insight-01 is complete.

/Initiate SR-02; Catherine Silverdrift, Jack Balthazar Silverdrift

||Please wait.

I tapped the bracelet once and the whole planet popped into the blue three-dimensional holographic display. A globe.

Pangea? This is filling me with dread and excitement.

I randomly tapped on the supercontinent.

City A...

'A' City...?

—Holy shit.

Let's hope the timeline is near enough for the Hero Association to exist. Maybe I could go to high school? No, too much hassle. How about I setup mom a few companies and I slowly introduce Big Mountain reject tech?

That's... actually brilliant. But it should be nothing close enough to overthrow me. Like the Tri-Radii Valence Oscillator. I could introduce it with the price of one sextillion.

Then they'd just see me around pulling it out of my coat like it's a cigarette. Shit. I could already imagine the look on their face.

Meanwhile, as I held mom, I set us to teleport inside the forest of a park at City M.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

Whooh. Good thing there are trees around, we still haven't found a way to block out the excess Schrodinger Effect particle-coat whenever we teleport. Reducing it with even one particle means horrible disfiguration in the most painful way.

My omni-sense is not picking up anything, just daily people going about.

Hmm... We need money. And a house, preferably one we own... choices for later. First, money.

/Queue BE-01; Silver Lair Enterprise.

I led mom by the hand as we walked around the City, seeing the things, scoping whatever I could benefit from. And piecing together info that can help me with money.

Pawnshop.

We entered.

It looks shady, but well within what I need; selling things without ID or being traced.

"How may I help you?" The man at the counter asked lazily.

I materialized three gold bars right on top of the desk. They have blood stains, maybe it's from Dean. I can't exactly remember.

He stared at the gold bars. Looked to me, then the gold bars.

"Door to the back, tenth and fifteenth locker. 4-6-3-2-6-8-1. Pleasure doing business with you." He just swiped the gold bar off the desk and went back to his slacking.

We went to the back door and went to the tenth locker among the dozens around here.

4-6-3-2-6-8-1. The lock hissed and opened by receding to the floor. Inside was three briefcases. A .45 ACP, four magazines of .45 rounds, and what I think is five Gold Coins.

I see a lion and, yep. It's the Continental Hotel Gold Coins. Except, I think it's different in here.

I went to the fifteenth locker and did the same. Inside the fifteenth locker was a letter, ten gold coins, an invitation card with instructions, and what I think is a credit card or access card.

The invitation card points toward a certain building within City A. I took a few cash from one of the briefcases. We went outside and took to the street again.

At the end of our walk, we wound upon a hotel. We entered, I presented the card, gave three coins. Everything was good.

And I waited with mom on the room we got at the third floor.

||SR-02 complete.

Sounds good—klaxon blared.

City A is under attack.

I felt a rumble throughout the building and the doors quickly opened, "Sir, we need to evacuate. Please follow me." An attendant said in hurry.

Mom was confused beside me. This is, after all, our vacation. Then an attack happens.

"We're good." I tossed him a gold coin. "We're just here for a stop by."

The attendant caught it, nodded, and left the door open as he hurriedly walked towards where the evacuation is.

"Mom, can you take to the rooftops? We'll be facing something worse than a Super Mutant Behemoth."

She did a double take then glared at me. Most likely angry that this vacation was ruined far too soon. "I don't want to."

"Then teleport back to the ship. Come back after an hour." I said but then her hand clenched over my omni bracelet and wrist.

"Jack." She said without any inflection. Flat as she could. But both of us knew she was begging as we stared into each other's eyes.

"I'll be alright." I answered back, inching closer to give her a kiss. One that she took deeply.

And in a shimmer of blue lights, she's back aboard Warship Infinity.

I teleport—let's call it blink.

I blinked to outside. On the streets.

One swing of my head around as I searched the distance for the tallest building was all it took as I blinked to a skyscraper.

Remember something I said about telemetry accessed by the suit?

I AM the Telemetry.

My omni-sense could only reach 100+ meters around me provided there are no obstacles. But my sight, under the same circumstances can see much further.

With—I think—the FIRST, SECOND, and THIRD all working in tandem to process what my perception perceives; I've catalogued and analyzed POIs. Both place and people of interests.

There are already a few B-rank heroes responding to what I think is a flock of avian monsters.

Black feathers, white protruding bones that form as useless exoskeleton, and red marking on said bones.

When I say flock, it meant a number beyond a dozen dozens. Pushing near to 200, 183 to be exact.

So I blinked to the scene, equipping an additional Nanosuit 2 on top of the one I have in my flesh. It's purpose is to serve as my "Hero Suit" together with the Tri-Radii Valence Oscillator.

I pulled out a Gauss sub-rifle designed by Osborn; a far more efficient version of a Gauss Rifle, according to Collins. It's firepower is not up to par with a Gauss Rifle that punches over Mach 9. But it can shoot twenty rounds and as fast as I could need it inside VATS.

I deployed a Tac-Drone to record everything as I slipped into bullet time. VATS highlighted an enemy's form and one of it's body parts.

Depleted uranium slugs flew at Mach 6.

That alone wouldn't be enough against the caliber of monsters here in this world. Where they can wreck buildings and shrug off getting buried by its rubble. Where they can take on firearms as if it was a BB Gun. Where they can do worse when you think otherwise.

The rounds made contact with the avian monsters; sparks of electricity, acid, fire, and plain explosions added to the assault. Courtesy of those four psychopaths.

It... It was beautifully chaotic.

Avian monsters hit by the rounds started their reactions, panicked or pained, never matters. It caused a chain reaction that I predict will destroy their flight pattern.

Reload.

The shots flew again.

This time, I've hit targets whose flight path is to just circle and act as cannon fodder. One of them seems to be a bit bigger and is commanding them from within the flock.

My goal is to create a window whilst I also try to properly disrupt their entire flock.

A window opened.

Three shots instantly made it to the alpha's head and the opportunity showed me good results. The acid ate at it's flesh, electricity seized up it's nerves, and fire danced across it's everything.

The other seventeen rounds tore at the whole flock, further disorienting the avian monsters.

The good thing is that these monsters evaporate; apparent from the few bodies whose heads I've crumpled. Even the alpha.

Still, there's more than ten dozen wreaking havoc with their rain of large and sharp feathers as missile upon buildings. They were indiscriminate as their alpha died and pushed them into disarray.

Still in VATS, I fired up my ion thrusters. I need publicity.

My visor reported that one of the five energy tanks are now used for my flight. Being a prototype armor modification of a nanosuit, the ion thrusters, it sucks energy like a vacuum. Barely generating lift to go beyond Mach 5. With Moira choosing to stay behind, many of our and her designs weren't instantly made compared to when she's with u—

The whole flock was erased from the sky.

An alien ship is here.

Boros, is here.

FUCK

I quickly sighted down the Hero Association HQ and teleported to its roofto—SHITFUCK

Explosions, thousands of them. Every single explosion obliterated everything. Nothing was spared, everything was flattened. Rubble flying everywhere.

I took to my knee, I deployed thirty Tac-Drones to record everything from here on out.

VATS is still in effect; my bullet time has its own separate power source, one of the five energy tanks. Organ GRX may fry me if—well, fuck it.

My entire body received the signals; every single tissue of my every organ, every single cell thrummed in function— the spot behind to my right exploded. Saitama dropped and looked at me.

"I didn't do it. They did." I immediately deflecte—shit, that came out way too fast.

"Sure."

Huh. We can talk in a souped-up bullet time, damn.

"Anyways, there's this alien inside that ship that wants to fight. He's strong enough."

"... Really?"

I nodded.

Somehow, he looked fired up just from me confirming it. Then, "Oh, almost forgot. There are still civilians underground. Give us at least fifteen minutes to evacuate before you destroy the ship—aand it looks like they're trying to fire at us again." I pointed to the ship. I only knew it was priming because my Tac-Drones are already inside collecting data and alerted me.

He turned slowly. Almos—damn, he can control at whatever speed he wants to perceive things. And, almost comically, he cocked back his fist, lowered his knees, and dashed forward through the air.

Things proceeded as what my knowledge clued me into.

Genos and some other hero had already gone through the hole in the roof that Saitama made. They found me on my one knee and sighting down the scope of a Gauss cannon.

I deactivated Organ GRX and VATS.

"I'm Silverdrift, and Caped Baldy has already boarded the ship. There are still civillians down there, buried under rubbl— an enemy has touched down." I mouthed off as I stand up and turn to them. I pointed to where the Mezagard or something, the regenerating alien around a marble, "Focus on the civilians, leave the ship to Caped Baldy. Give him fifteen minutes." With that, I blinked to where I saw the marble-phylactery powered alien.

Of course, I felt a force pull me down before I could leave but I've blinked away regardless. I'd bet it was the short tempered Esper reacting to my command. No one would follow an unknown. Except what Saitama did.

I didn't waste any time as I arrived, VATS and Organ GRX worked. Already on my right hand was a chainsword. The first prototype that I wielded against the Zetans was a tesla chainsword. The one I am holding right now is a monomolecular-edged protonic inversal chainsword capable of over-revving to 2.5rpm.

And, as bullshit as it can be, I have to show off to show credibility. Everyone would just say the enemy was overly pathetic if I did what Saitama always do.

So I just began randomly hacking away at it while I randomly dashed and blinked around it.

I'm not even trying.

Obviously, it frustrated the thing when it can't make a lock-on on me. But by the time it got frustrated, the other S-Class heroes were already watching me toy with it.

It might have been suspicious to any outsider; a 7-feet tall armored man blurring around a humanoid thing, slicing and dicing it without effort.

But to those of this world, anyone fighting against a monster is either a hero or some wannabe-hero who wishes to die.

So I can't exactly fault them when they've gotten curious on who the fuck was this motherfucker that was doing their job for them.

I prolonged the toying to a minute of relative bullet time and decided to stop and left a cryo bomb inside it. My shimmering blink deposited me in between the S-Class heroes and the alien, with me facing the alien whose body is already recovering from the cryo bomb.

VATS and Organ GRX stopped.

"That thing is regenerating around an orb, the size of a child's marble. It can move it fast enough to dodge obliteration." I said. Not appearing winded at all.

"Who the hell are you?" Metal bat asked.

"Jack Balthazar Silverdrift. And don't pay attention to the monologuing alien in front of us. It only has three to five pieces of those marble things."

"Haven't heard of you."

"I was busy saving the world from space and not paying attention on the planet. Then this thing bypassed my defenses." I said, pointing to the ship.

"The hel—" that was as far as Metal bat got when Silver Fang slammed the alien thing away.

"Do your stretches old man! You'll get cramps!" I shouted.

What happened next was stupid.

Atomic Samurai did whatever he does best, slice and dice with his katana. Silver Fang flowed into a downstream of attacks. The rest stood back.

Even when all their attacks haven't missed, they didn't listen to my—uh, 'observations' which I didn't clearly rip off from my meta knowledge, no siree.

Still, they did jack shit. Not even once doing their best. They wer—ah, it's a matter of pride now is it?

Show offs.

Hey, I toyed with the thing because I need to show some credibility of my skills—never mind.

"Hurry up! Caped Baldy's destroying the ship in a few minutes!"

That got the attention the three A-Class underlings of Atomic Samurai, "Caped Baldy? The C-Cl— wait, he's a B-Class now, but that fake?"

I turned to them and shifted off the 2nd nanosuit into my inventory, "Kid, you don't know even know how fucking strong Caped Baldy is." Whether they got caught by my naked upper body or not, they didn't show.

"Who are you calling Kid? You look like a seventeen-year-old with a case of gigantism!" The little shit snarked.

I shrugged, "Sucks to be you, shrimp." I took off my attention from them. I activated nanovision and started filtering through the noise to track those marble things inside the alien.

I found them.

VATS and GRX activated as I blinked in front of the thing, my hand blurred and punctured through sturdy flesh.

I was rewarded with four pieces of marble that got incidentally crushed in my fis—FUCK! Even when I can see their attacks, it still hurt.

Silver Fang had slammed my neck, crumpling it and forcing my head to just loll around. Atomic Samurai cut into my torso. The shock in their faces after the fact showed it was an accident and not their intention.

My throat was a mangled mess, I can't speak even as blood dripped from the sword wounds followed by the appearance of scabbing and the regeneration simultaneously starting. It still hurt.

The alien thing behind me began to completely dissolve into air.

I deactivated VATS and GRX. Fang and Samurai had jumped back instead of trying to help me.

A few moments of silence settled between them, Metal bat was remarkably more so during the entire thing. He was the one who supposedly discovered its weakness after all.

Me, I was trying to scream in pain to emphasize what they did. Even as everything on me healed in the most grotesque way I could force the nanites. With a partially healed voice box I began a very loud groan of pain. Even more excruciating when the few slashes across my torso healed along with the bones loudly snapping into place.

Fun fact, I can pay no attention to the pain.

"Attempted Murder. Wow. How the mighty have fallen." I spoke with a few croaks.

"You survived." Atomic Samurai intoned.

"What part of "Attempted Murder" can you not understand? I both told you my observations and that the ship is about to go down, what did you two do? Played around with the alien. On that note, the ship is going down. Run!" My voice was immediately followed by a loud and resonating BOOM as the ship listed onto its portside.

Saitama had just returned from being launched into orbit. He didn't hit the moon.

In fact, he didn't hit anything. My Tac-Drones just kind of followed his trajectory into space until he decided to stop and jump back onto the ship.

Without using any platform.

He just coiled his entire body, then flexed it to reverse his momentum and shoot towards the planet and the ship. From space.

I activated VATS and GRX, instantly shooting off from under the ship. And now that I'm actively looking at the surroundings, Tatsumaki is clearing out rubble to find civilians while using said rubble to attack the ship.

The rest followed.

Like a snail.

Ugh. They were supposed to be fast as fuck.

I'm only moving at what, Mach 37— oh, I wasn't moving at Mach 37 earlier was I? Well, I already made it to the HA-HQ.

I stopped VATS and GRX.

Aaaaaaaand there we go with Boros's final attack. How the fuck would anyone miss that bright ass explosion?

And this is a world of technology, robots are walking around. How come not a single satellite is monitoring the ship from orbit—oh, okay. There are satellites in orbit.

In fact, there're hundreds of them. What do they do? Nothing. Just floating around and not using the onboard scopes to even observe anything. And most of these satellites are already pointing towards the planet, mind you.

These Board Members of Heroes Association will get the shit they deserve in the form of the Monster Association systematically taking down everything they have.

Or not.

Not like I care.

I just need to get specific things here that caught my attention as a secondary goal.

My primary objective is to have a vacation of sorts with mom. And I can't do that if everywhere we go is always attacked by monsters.

So,

Enter, Silverdrift Enterprise.

It's my one stop shop for any problem I'll have. It'll be manned by Synths fully bonded with their Nanosuit and assisted with VIs and AIs.

Aaaaaaaaand, there the ship goes down.

The Tac-Drones have gathered enough data and samples of whatever I can use to advance onto whichever direction I want.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

Stupidity.

Goddamn Stupidity.

I really want to help these people.

I really do.

Just like with the Super Mutants, Ghouls, and wasterlanders of FO3MX.

BUT. HOLY FUCKING SHIT. Imagine my surprise then when I supplied them footage of what happened from start to finish. You know, uploaded it to their internet, and sent it to every authority that should have it. You want to know what they did?

They ostracized.

They don't even fucking know what the fuck happened without those videos. All they'd know would be that an alien ship attacked, they got rekt, heroes won even when they only did jack shit except Saitama.

No one even bothered to check what the fuck really happened.

Praises rained down upon the S-Class heroes even as all shit descended into further chaos.

The fucking truth was too much for them and they are a lost cause that I don't want to be a headache to me.

It's a bother to understand what the fuck their problem is.

I promptly pulled out every fucking thing and left their universe.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

Since having the bullshit [OP-Gamer-Powers™] from Rica, anything I do to my body is now treated like a game.

My body is like that of a video game's player character. So long as I have health, I'm not dead.

If I was a normal human, I would still die from critical hits, like my brain getting enough trauma.

With my being a post-human upon acquiring the [OP-Gamer-Powers™], my consciousness -my mind- is now safely tucked away inside the processors of the Nanosuit I've bonded with. For that, we turn to Exhibit BS, where Atomic Samurai and Silverfang both dealt damage to me. I should've died momentarily when my brain stem was mangled along with my neck. But having immunity to anything with regards to my mind, well, even if the processors get compromised, I'm still safe from bodily harm.

Having [Gamer's Mind] effectively made me safe from any damage to the processors in my body. Having [Gamer's Body]... 'nuff said.

Given the BS [OP-Gamer-Powers™], it has turned my constant need for energy into null. Remember when I accumulated enough body augmentation that I can't survive for more than 13 hours of non-stop combat? That's no longer an issue. Anything that was detrimental to my body was easily solved when I once again tried to solve them. Just like that, any drawbacks I once had with my body was gone. Spores from Vault 22 that I've adapted? Poof. Fully assimilated and overcome. Problem with nanites bonding with my cells? Poof. Insta-Symbiosis.

Enough about BS [OP-Gamer-Powers™]. Let's pay attention to Warship Infinity.

With a lot of resources, Mobius devised a way to take advantage of it; We got things.

Mobius went like, "Oh, we can build a hundred thousand handymen and gutsy bots? Sure! What? We can also produce more nanosuits and have the same number of synths to use them? Sur— we still have resources? Hmm... Why not make ten battle fleet compleme— there's still more? Then make some Orbital Defense Platform for each worl—there's stil—?!—...Okay, make another WARSHIP INF—We still have more?! WHAT THE F—"

You get the idea.

In summary, we have an exponential level of production that was then used by Mobius to make more of our ships. Warship Infinity included...

...We're really living up to our name, what with having a fleet of one hundred Warship Infinities and all that it entails.

That was good right?

Yes and no.

Yes, we can sustain any attacks aimed at us but there's a thing called getting better.

No, we can't get better through sheer number.

What we need is innovation or just outright improvement, no matter how simple.

Only my timely intervention stopped a scenario where we get stagnant because of over-reliance on numbers.

Instead, I endeavored them to go and try to improve our systems and equipment. If there are problems on both, create a new one that surpasses either.

I prevented the rampant expansion and it led to Mobius creating a system that allows us to teleport between ships across the universes we have ships on.

Say we have a Warship on Marvel, and I am aboard another Warship on DC. Thing is, I wanted to pay a visit on Marvel; see how things are. Instead of having the Warship on DC to teleport onto the Marvel and let me do the ship to ship transport, I can just stand on the teleportation platform and away I go to the Warship in Marvel.

He has found the beginnings of linking Warship Teleportation Hubs intra-universally.

There were other things. One of them would be the wormhole mode of travel for our ships. Folding space to travel vast distances.

And that escalated things.

Just think about for a second.

If we can fold space itself, what stops us from expanding space?

Nothing.

As I've said; escalated. Quickly at that.

It put us into a problem. To understand the problem, one must first know Mobius' theory. He has a lot of theories, but for this one, we'll focus on the subject; space.

Picture this; an ever-expanding universe that will eventually succumb into heat death where nothing seems to exist. Once the heat death occurred, only an ungodly amount of ever-expanding space and ever-passing time will remain. When Mobius and I tried our own expansion in an isolated system for our test, it exploded in our faces, figuratively of course. From there, everything was nothing but the same explosion. We stopped and those expansion-tests and the subsequent explosion was then used as an inference, that once the universe has expanded and had suffered heat death, something happens and then; Bang...

The Big Bang, actually.

It involves highly complicated theories of every single subject under science and related maths.

Without proper understanding of time-space, we can't use space expansion as nothing more than a quasar pulse blast.

Theoretically, you can expand space infinitely so long as you can sustain the cost of such anomaly.

First is to use a time-space disposition, barring that; a time-plane disposition must be in place. Second is to RIP APART the very space you want to subject with your desire and then feed it itself; the destruction it causes to correct the anomaly. Third is to create a looping third-dimensional rift along the newly created—or recreated—fabric of space. Fourth is the sustaining of the energy required from start to finish in order to perform such feat.

THEORETICALLY.

The best we've got is folding it, bridging it, and navigating our way through it.

If I, or anyone of us, had particle control, this would've been easy. But I don't, none of us do. So we had to approach it from another way, someday; shelve it for now until we've solved shit.

On the other hand, we've discovered a very destructive form of attack against enemies. Who could stand against a micro-star exploding on their faces? Very few.

That's an improvement for me.

:|:|:|:|:|:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::|:|:|:|:|:

Hmmm...

I don't have anything else to do again.

The two Warships are both functioning beyond expectations-, wait, hmmm...

...

...

...

...

Now that I have free time, I think I could start sorting through these slips of my memory and try to thread them into coherency.

A'ight, Imma do that.