DISCLAIMER:

I DO NOT OWN RE ZERO OR FALLOUT AND MAKE NO PROFIT OF THIS FREE ACCESS FANFICTION

END OF DISCLAIMER.

The sun was shining on the beach of Arizona's river. A couple of pre-war buildings were partially submerged as the river flooded their interiors, the temperature easily forty degrees Celsius. It used to be a nice resort area, before the Great War, now it was nothing more but an old carcass. However, even this deserted area had visitors known as Lakelurks, which were descended from crabs, but exposure to heavy radiation and airborne virus known as FEV changed them into vicious predators.

They looked slightly similar to humans when it came to their general appearance, being able to stand straight and with one set of legs and arms. However, that's where similarities ended. Their bodies were covered in hard scales, a pair of razor sharp claws located on their hands. Yet, that paled in comparison to their most deadly weapon, sonic shriek. A powerful ability, which send a sonic pulse towards their prey, bypassing most conventional defences, like combat armour.

It was the reason why a certain man was watching them from afar from a top of a nearby cliff. He was wearing a duster, which used to belong to Ulysses, hence the name of Ulysses' duster. It was a sleeveless black coat emblazoned with the United States commonwealth flag. As for the rest of the outfit, it consisted of shirt, black pants and a pair of black boots, with several accessories attached to it, including a pair of tribal-like necklaces, a bandoleer and knee pads.

However, the duster was not enough to protect from the harsh sunlight, forcing the man to put a red beret with an insignia on it. He followed it up with a pair of black shades, a breathing mask and tons of bandages which hid his body from the prying eyes of others. He was known as Courier Six, the deadliest man to ever walk the Mojave wasteland. His mission was quite simple, get rid of Lakelurks. To do so, he needed a weapon. The man brought his left hand up and de-atomized a pipboy, which looked as if the device assembled itself from atoms in an instant.

Atomization was a process that allowed him to store tons of stuff inside the pipboy, which had enough capacity to supply a small army and then some. He wasn't sure how it worked exactly, but it made things appear and disappear in the thin air, as if their atoms were split apart and added to his mass. It was very handy and allowed him to adjust to any situation assuming he had the stuff prepared. There was a limit of what he had prepared, most of which were weapons. Ammo, drugs, food and water could always be looked up in the pipboy before the fight or during it, even if it was a bit inefficient, quick access to guns was better as far as he was concerned.

As for the pipboy itself, it looked a bit different when compared to standard models. Instead of being mounted on his wrist in a form of a bracelet, it rested in the palm of his left hand, while he used the other one to navigate to the menus. He searched his weapons, until he found the one he was looking for and de-atomized it in his hands.

It was a sniper rifle based of the famed DKS-501, but chambered for .308 ammunition known as Christine's COS sniper rifle. It had a suppressor, a darker colouration and a scope, which allowed it for precise shots from long distance. He crouched as he aimed down sight, held his breath and pulled the trigger. The bullet soared through the air, before it hit one of the Lakelurks in the head, it's body exploding into giblets. He used their confusion to snipe two more, before they became aware of their situation. Only seven left to go…

He watched as the mutants began looking around, trying to discern the threat that eliminated three of their kind. However, they were too primitive to know of firearms, so he began waiting, until they stopped searching, instead of going to devour the bodies of their fallen brethren. Waste not, want not, huh?

Well, he didn't mind that and fired three more shoots, killing even more Lakelurks. After that, he took potshots, until all the Lakelurks were dead. Satisfied, the Courier de-atomized the rifle and began making his way to the corpses of the mutants. Less than twenty bullets used, nice. He was happy with the result, as he walked up closer, before brandishing a knife, which he put on his right thigh in a holster. It was a wicked bowie knife with a sharp edge, which he used to carve the meat out of the Lakelurks, before atomizing it.

He also managed to get some blood sausages and thin red paste thanks to one of his perks, which he also atomized. Satisfied with the results, he made his way to the beach and de-atomized a sunbed, along with umbrella. He came here for a reason, a damn good reason known as vacation! He needed one badly, the Mojave made sure of that. Once he did that, he stripped, until there were only bandages and a pair of pants left visible on his body, leaving only his green eyes visible. It was something he learnt from Joshua Graham, but instead of wounds that wouldn't heal, he had his own personal reasons for that.

To put simply, he hated his face being seen by other people, it was one of the reasons he hid behind bandages. He had a decent looking mug if you were to ask him, but it got all banged up with a plethora of scars he got from his unfriendly adventures through the wasteland. Scars, big or small, never came across as friendly, so he wasn't too keen on showing anyone what's under the mask. However, scars were quite common in the wasteland. With the talent he had for talking, it wouldn't have been a problem. But there was radiation mixed in, and that never made anyone look good.

The Courier, with a bit of hesitation, proceeded to remove the bandages, until he was wearing nothing more but a pair of pants, faded scars visible on every part of his body. One could see his pale complexion, being a proof of using armour on a regular basis to prevent sunburns, stray bullets, and lasers from hurting him. It used to be different, but one did not go through the same crap he went through, without having serious emotional baggage and making enough corpses to fill a small graveyard.

However, it was nothing compared to how he looked beneath all the bandages. His black hair, which used to reach to his neck, was nothing more but few patches of it remaining on his head. His skin was similar to a beef jerky, as the radiation wrecked havoc across his body, making him look similar to a ghoul. It was a price he had to pay, for allowing the Rad Child to do it's magic. He had wrinkles under his eyes, his green eyes, which used to be full of life, now mostly devoid of it, save for an eerie green glow, almost imperceptible if one wasn't specifically looking for it. A single massive scar running from the middle of his left eyebrow to the middle of his cheek. A walking corpse, that's what he looked like, not that different from all those pre-war movies he watched some time ago, with zombies and such.

With that in mind, he looked around, making sure there was nobody nearby, before jumping into the water, even as the sun tried to turn him into a piece of dried meat. The cool water embraced his body, making him sigh in delight, as he began swimming around, enjoying himself for the time. His synthetic lungs allowed him to breathe underwater, while his bionic eyes allowed him to see underwater perfectly, making the endeavour even better. He swam like that for good fifteen minutes, before heading back out to the surface, while puking the water of his lungs. Once he did that, he laid on the sunbed and let himself relax.

Over the course of the past few years he had spent many hours taking care of the Mojave, caring for it and making sure it prospered. He had to deal with so many things, paperwork, bandits, hostile fauna and flora and taxes… urgh. Combined with Big Mountain and few other places that were under his jurisdiction was enough to break most men. Even the autodoc was worried and sent him on a vacation, not to get burnt out. That was a bad habit of his, never being able to stay in one place to relax. He put the blame on the Wasteland for being the way it was.

As he simply laid there trying to relax and failing miserably, he couldn't help but ponder on what to do next. Being the Overlord of the Mojave was more of a job he had no means of leaving than something he enjoyed. He missed the times of being a simple courier getting into messes and figuring his way out of them, he missed being able to discover new things, especially with the entirety of the Mojave explored.

The man frowned as he opened the eyes, a scowl on his face. He really couldn't relax like this, the moisture long gone from his body due to the surrounding heat. He began browsing the pipboy, as he tried to figure out how to relax. There he noticed a peculiar item, which he hadn't used in ages, if ever. It was Benny's suit, which consisted of black and white buffalo plaid suit jacket worn with light grey dress pants, white dress shirt and black tie.

He put on the bandages, his shades, the beret, the mask, the suit and turned on the music stored in the pipboy. Big Iron began ringing directly in his ears, courtesy of pipboy, which directly connected to his brain, making it possible to sneak upon others, even when listening to music. Sure, he could use the external speaker, but most of the time he didn't even bother with it, the sound was way worse too. He felt himself relax a bit, as he laid on the sunbed, his eyes getting tired all of sudden.

The next time he looked around, the Sun began to set, the area getting dark in the process. He blinked, before rubbing his eyes. He then de-atomized the things he brought and checked the map. Since he was there, there was a place he wanted to swing by. He began walking towards the cliff, his bionic eyes switching into night vision mode in the process.

However, as he was walking towards his destination, his eyes began itching. The Courier began rubbing them, as he closed both of them for a moment. However, upon opening them once again, the scenery changed completely. Where there used to be desert, sand and rocks was now a city, a big city filled with… walking animals? His eyes spread wide open as he began looking around feverishly. A fountain right behind him.

Everywhere he looked, he could see fairly obsolete houses, somewhere around nineteenth century, but maintained. But this was nothing compared to all the species around him. Humans with beast like features, dwarves, some kind of giant lizard pulling carriages, giants, lizard like humanoids, even wolf like humanoids, etc.

"What in the diagonal fuck…?" He muttered to himself, as he tried to figure out if he finally went senile or not. The air far colder than back in the Mojave.

"Hey Mister, do you want to buy an apple?" A man asked, the Courier immediately turning towards him.

He was well built man, somewhere in his thirties with a bit of grass sticking out of his mouth. He was wearing some kind of loose shirt, a pair of trousers and a skirt. The Courier opened his mouth, before closing in. The man just spoke in a language he didn't recognize, but yet could understand? How was this even possible? This was too much, he needed to think, badly.

"No, thank you, I will pass," The Courier replied in the same language, somehow.

"Suit yourself," The man replied, while the Courier nodded, looked around and quickly entered nearby valley.

He put his hand on a nearby wall, as he took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down. Okay, Courier, relax. You have been through worse, like the Sierra Madre. First thing he needed to do was check his current position. He de-atomized the pipboy and went into maps tab, only to be greeted with a single message. Warning, area outside of Robco satellite jurisdiction, Automap engaged… Shit.

Okay, this was bad, really bloody bad. It meant he was nowhere near the Mojave, hell, after seeing what he just saw, he was quite certain he wasn't back on Earth anymore, that or he was sent into a future where humanity rose back from the ground with other races involved and somehow he was quite certain that wasn't the case.

"Hey, you there, give us all your stuff!" A male voice suddenly said.

The Courier turned towards the owner of the voice with a deadpan, as nobody sane would even think of robbing him back in the Mojave. There he saw a trio of thugs, who thought that he was an easy prey. The first one was a human with large body, purple hair and eyes and some basic clothing. The second one was another human with white complexion and black eyes, his hair just as pale, a simple knife in his hand. The last one was smaller than either of the two, probably a dwarf or a human suffering from dwarfism.

"… You serious?" The Courier asked, as he looked at the trio with disbelief.

"Yeah, it's a robbery, asshole!" The dwarf exclaimed.

"… I don't know whether you are that dumb or brave… Do me a favour and scram, before you get hurt," He warned them.

"Oh yeah? I got a knife, you'd better not mess with us!" The pale human said.

"… Welp, I tried," He muttered.

His first instinct was to de-atomize a gun and blow their heads off, before he remembered where the hell he was. This world didn't seem to have any guns what so ever, at least, he hadn't seen one on any of the creatures he saw thus fur, so pulling out a gun here would make him stand out quite a bit. Instead, he was going to deal with the thugs, the old fashioned way, with his fists. He cracked his knuckles and gestured them to come at him.

"Move out of the way!" A female voice suddenly yelled, making him look behind himself.

There he saw a short girl with fair skin and medium-length golden hair with a black bow, her red eyes directed past the valley. She was wearing a black top, red scarf and black pants, along with a vest, gloves and brown shoes. She also had a belt with a knife attached to it on her back. However, before anyone could do anything, the girl jumped above them, before landing on the other side of the valley, leaving the group in the dust.

"… Damn, that sure as hell broke the mood," The Courier complained. "So, do you still want to fight, because I really don't feel like wasting my time on you."

That was enough to piss off the thugs, as the largest one charged him with his fists ready to strike. However, to the Courier, they were as slow as snails. Compared to death claws, bullets and such, they were nothing. He simply moved his head to the side, before punching the thug into the stomach. What followed next was a fountain of blood, guts and gore the thug exploded into.

The two thugs who were left stared in terror as one hit was all it took to kill one of them. That guy was even weaker than one of the Powder Gangers and these guys were malnourished convicts! His disappointment in this world only increased, but if there was any consolation was the fact that he probably wouldn't have to worry about getting killed with how weak most of the people of this world were. He looked at the two thugs that were left and activated VATS.

VATS, also known as Vault-Tec Assisted Targeting System was a part of the pipboy, which allowed to 'freeze time'. During that time he could target limbs of his opponents or other weak spot and figure out what to do. While simply staying in VATS didn't drain the reserves of his Action Points almost at all, the same couldn't be said about using it in combat. However, thanks to it and a perk known as Living Anatomy, he was able to get a very detailed scan of the durability of the two thugs in front of him. And unfortunately, both of them were just as pathetic as he expected. Not only they possessed no armour, they also were incredibly weak, weaker even than the radroaches. Well, at least he wouldn't have any problems with killing them.

The two thugs yelled, as he simply approached them. The pale one decided to avenge his friend and using his whole strength, stabbed him in the gut. A brief moment of joy was gone in an instant, as the blade failed to pierce iron-reinforced skin of the Courier, the clothing still unscathed. And before he could escape, the Courier grabbed his skull and smashed it into nearby wall, the brain matter splattering all over the wall. The third one thug yelled, as he fell on his ass, his trousers wet, the Courier getting closer with his new knife in his hand.

"P-please, don't kill me!" The thug begged, as he covered his head.

"No," The Courier replied and slit his throat in one swift move, before tossing the blade to the side.

He looked around at the mess he caused and sighed. However, before he could loot the bodies of the thugs, a sound of footsteps alerted him to another presence. He turned around towards the entrance of the valley and noticed a young girl standing in front of him, the look of pure horror on her face. Oh great, just what I needed, more trouble.

She looked around the valley, her expression pale, before her violet eyes centred on him. She was quite beautiful to be honest with pure white hair, violet eyes, a headband with a flower on it and a pair of ears sharper than most. On her shoulder was a cat like thing with grey and white fur and blue eyes that was glaring at him with a look of sapience. And just in case, he activated VATS to see their strength. The girl was nothing special when it came to her durability, but the cat? It was interesting, as all he received was a message of error.

"W-what happened here?" The girl asked.

"What does it look like? I got attacked by a bunch of thugs, killed them and then you came in," He replied with a deadpan.

"You killed them…? But why?!" She demanded, not able to believe what she just heard.

"… I just told you, I only defended myself," He pointed out.

"You didn't have to kill them!" She protested.

"Lia, be careful, that man is dangerous," The cat said.

"… Did that cat just talk?" The Courier asked, completely ignoring the girl.

"What, you have never seen a talking animal before? And no, I am not a cat, I am a spirit," The cat asked. A spirit…? Like an alcohol?

"Not really, but I digress. Now, are you going to try to be a heroine and avenge them?" He asked and pointed to the corpses at his feet.

"W-what do you mean by that?" The girl asked.

"Well, you seem to be against my decision, so what else can I expect?" He pointed out. Kids these days…

"I…," She began.

"Lia, we shouldn't pick fights right now," The cat said.

"Listen to the cat, he speaks the truth," The Courier pointed out, while the girl glared at him.

"I am a spirit, not a cat," The not-cat protested.

"...Fine," She settled on, trying her best to keep her breakfast in her stomach.

"Hey, weirdo, have you seen a girl around here? Blonde hair, red eyes?" The cat asked.

"Blonde hair…? Oh, you mean the one that swooped through the valley with a big knife on her back? She headed that way," He replied and gestured behind him. "And by the way, I got a name, you stupid cat."

"He is not stupid," The girl protested as the pointed to her cat.

"Ignore him, Lia," The cat said.

"… Whatever, I don't care anymore. I am leaving, do whatever you want," He replied. And with that he turned around and left the valley, not caring about the woman anymore. He heard shouting from behind him, but he ignored it and headed off into the city.

So, I hope you enjoy this little snippet. I got some more being written, but it will have to do for now. Feel free to share your opinion. I will see how long it goes on. It's a small exercise to get me back to writing, if it's possible.