Let Nothing Fall to Chance

by Chronicler of Unseen Stars

Years have passed since the liberation of New Vegas, and the Courier's itching for a new adventure. Duty has bound him to Big MT and the Mojave, unwilling to let either out of his sight. When a certain satellite goes missing, Six leaps at the chance to break free from his prison. But he gets more than he bargains for and trades one wasteland for another. Crossposted on AO3.

13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Apostles of Another Apocalypse

Date: October 7th, 1098

Location: Village of Grinkhorn, Southern Ursus Border

Time: 8 AM

Noticeboards. Simple things, aren't they? They're just boards for posting notes and pictures. But they attracted a large variety of users. Universities, corporations, laboratories, law enforcement conspiracy theorists. Many of the larger settlements of Terra had moved onto something called 'forums' in recent times. The wastelands of both worlds, however, didn't have that kinda luxury.

Six and Lyudmila were both reading the board's contents. Half of it was just random messages. Poems, complaints, jokes, news, and gossip. The other half were various jobs. Collecting water samples from a nearby river, catching food for the cooks, recon, salvage.

And of course, there were bounties. An Ursus deserter, a cult of Casters worshiping some dead overlord, Sarkaz raiders, a Sankta sniper, and more. A rather diverse range of targets, if he were to say so. This could be a decent challenge for him.

Then his eyes fell upon a particular bounty. A hulking brute dressed up as a knight of old. Six blinked. This world had the mafia, mobile cities, smartphones, flatscreen TVs… and knights? Real knights, not some cosplayers like the Brotherhood of Steel. It certainly didn't appear to be power armor either. He faintly recalled Croissant mentioning knights in one of Terra's countries, but he didn't think she was talking about the genuine article.

Lyudmila's eyes were fixed on the man's photo. She was gritting her teeth. Six walked over beside her and took a closer look at the poster.

WANTED: Olmer Ingra, formerly "Brassrust Knight"

Dead or Alive

Wanted for several counts of mutilation, murder, and human-trafficking.

Reward is 10K LMD

"Looks like you got some beef with somebody," Six noted.

Lyudmila bowed her head. "More like every Infected soul on Terra does,' she bitterly replied.

"I take it that he has a thing against Oripaths then?"

"Oh you have no fucking idea," she said. "A lot of people share bigoted views towards the Infected, but him… he's outright genocidal. Leaps at the first chance to kill any he sees. Most people used to turn a blind eye to his bloodshed until the last Kazimierz Major."

"Kazimierz Major?"

"A 'professional martial game competition', as scholars like to call it. Really, half of it is commercialized gladiatorial combat. Death ain't uncommon in the games."

"So what happened at the last major?"

Lyudmila's fists balled up. "What do you think?" she hissed. "He killed an Infected Knight while he was using his Arts. Oh sure he was banned from the games afterward, but only because he nearly caused an Oripathic outbreak. Hardly mention or condolences towards the actual victim whatsoever. And people had the audacity to question whether the Infected even had any legitimate right to enter the games, let alone become knights!"

She slammed a fist into the noticeboard, knocking some of the papers off. A minute passed by before she calmed down and helped Six pin everything back on. The Courier also helped himself to scan the contents. Always helps to keep a little reminder on hand. Once he had the necessary information, he started looking around for Nadia's office.

Sure enough, there was a pink neon sign in the shape of a bow and arrow. The head of the latter was shaped like a heart. Like many of the establishments here, there was a sign with a number of different dialects written on it. The English portion read 'Cupid's arrow'.

Six whistled at Lyudmila and ED-E to follow, pointing at the building. Both of his companions followed him into the office. It wasn't much to write about. Just a shack built from scrap metal filled to the brim with filing cabinets. A long desk sat at the center of the room, occupied by a middle-aged Ursus.

A bell chimed as they entered, drawing her attention to the door. Her eyes widened when they fell on Lyudmila. She shouted the girl's name and ran towards her. Next thing everyone knew, the assassin was ensnared in a literal bearhug. She gasped and whizzed something in Russian as the woman embraced her. Six snickered at the sight.

Lyudmila phased out of the bear-woman's grip, briefly startling her. When she saw the Lupo on the ground gasping for air, she developed a sheepish look on her face. She said something as she rubbed the back of her neck, probably an apology. Then she noticed the Courier and ED-E. She blinked and said something to him.

The only reply she got was a tilted head. Lyudmila got back onto her feet and spoke to the woman. Six picked up the word 'Victorian' in their dialogue. When the woman returned her attention to him, she spoke in broken English with a strong Slavic accent.

"So, you know Lyudmila, right?" she asked.

Six shrugged. "Just met her a few days ago," he said casually. "And I take it that you're Nadia?"

"Da. I run this little office here. What can I do for you two?"

"You got any intel on some bounties?" Six asked.

"Of course. I keep files on all of them. Which interests you?"

Six walked over and flashed his Pipboy at her, switching between different scans of the posters. She reeled back at one in particular; Olmer Ingra.

"Oh, lord… you go after him?"

"Yes," Lyudmila said.

It wasn't hard for the woman to sense the vitriol in her reply. "Milochka, I understand your distaste for men like him, but he's dangerous. Even more than you."

"Don't worry," Six assured the middle-aged woman. "She's got me to keep her head on straight. And I eat assholes like him for breakfast anyways."

Lyudmila glared at him. Nadia giggled.

"Alright. You convinced me. Just give me minute to get relevant files."

Nadia walked to the back and buried her face in one of the filing cabinets. Six leaned into Lyudmila's ears, whispering to her.

"That ex-knight's wanted poster mentioned human trafficking," Six softly recalled.

The girl glanced back at him, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah? So?" she replied.

"He may be connected to the assholes that stole my satellite."

Lyudmila did a double-take. "Wait, you think he's involved with your tele-"

Six pressed a finger against her lips. He brought another from his free hand to where the gasmask covered his mouth. She got the memo.

"You really think he's smart enough to pull you-know-what off?" she asked.

"You mean spearheading the operation? Doubtful," Six admitted. "But he was probably involved in it somehow. I'd like to interrogate him before we run off with his head."

"And if he's not alone today?"

"That would depend on where he sits in the chain of command."

Nadia had procured and sorted out the relevant files by this point. She stuffed them into a folder and handed it to Lyudmila.

"Here," she said. "Is everything on local scum. Need anything else?"

"Maybe," Six said. "Y'all need someone to collect water from the local river, correct? I assume that you have the tools and materials for such tasks? And bags and preservatives for hunting?"

Nadia nodded, quickly reaching into her desk and procuring some test tubes. She handed it to the Courier, watching him slip it into his backpack. She then grabbed some bags from a makeshift coat rack and gave them to Lyudmila.

"Just bring sample to me and I'll hand it to expert. Bartender takes in fresh cuts"

The fleshlings thanked her for her assistance before they departed. The trio walked back to their room, setting the files on the table and taking seats. For the next hour, the two spent their time reading the papers, formulating a plan of action for each job and bounty.

The general chores would be done during the daytime. The bounties, on the other hand, would be best conducted throughout the night. It'd be impractical to bring in rotting heads from one bounty to the next for a variety of reasons, so they were gonna have to make multiple trips to and from the village. Hopefully Nadia- or at least a coworker of hers- will be up to collect them.

The bounties themselves would be a bit complicated. One of them was a hedge-mage from a country called Leithania. According to Lyudmila, it was as renowned for its research into Arts as it was for its corruption. The only redeeming quality was apparently its musical tastes and contributions.

The weird thing, though, was how they weaved both schools together. The country held a popular belief that music and arts were somehow connected.

Sounds like everyone's a fan of Tolkien there. Six thought to himself.

Another bounty focused on a group of Sarkaz. Their leader bore a striking resemblance to the brutes he faced in Kazdel. Apparently, there were a number of subraces within the Sarkaz populace. One of the more common ones was the Goliaths, easily identified by their ram horns and devilish tails. The males apparently could grow up to the size of a Super Mutant. The similarities put Six on edge. He prayed that these were the result of naturally-occurring mutations and not something like the FEV.

But the biggest problem was Ingra. The files made him out to be an unhinged version of Lanius. Brutal, berserk, and all-around bloodthirsty. And as Lyudmila claimed, he held a zealous hatred towards the Infected. His guide would probably be the bastard's priority during a firefight. Perhaps they could exploit this? She wasn't too keen on the idea of acting as bait, though.

Six rose from his seat and got the door, holding it for his partner with a bow. She rolled her eyes as she walked past him, only to scamper back into the room like a bat outta hell. She nearly knocked Six as she slammed the door shut, falling onto the floor. She was hyperventilating, tail between her legs.

"Woah woah woah!" Six shouted, trying to balance himself. "The hell's your problem!?"

The only answer he got was her pointing back at the barrier. Six raised an eyebrow as he slowly opened the door back up. As he poked his head out, he noticed a familiar sight.

It was that blond-haired woman with the polearm. She was sitting in a rocking chair just outside her room, nose buried in a book. From where Six was standing, it didn't appear to be in Russian or English. He swore he saw that language somewhere in his travels, though. He just couldn't remember the name off of the top of his bullet-ridden head. Six silently shut the door and looked back at Lyudmila. Now she seemed to be lost in her own world, muttering under her breath.

"Mila… what's wrong?" Six asked.

She didn't seem to register anything he said.

"Lyudmila…"

He walked over to the Lupo. Now he could pick up bits and pieces of her rambling.

"I can't believe it… she's here… she's after my head… she'll drag my ass back to Ursus and…"

Six knelt down and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Mila, you okay?" he asked softly.

She was muttering to herself. Six was losing his patients. He shook her. Hard.

"[Charisma 4/6] HEY!" he screamed at her face. "SNAP OUT OF IT!"

[FAILED!] The girl panicked again, this time throwing Six onto ED-E. The dynamic duo crushed onto the Courier's side of the room, the impact quaking the wall enough to throw everything off of his shelf. Books rained down on them as the girl finally snapped back into reality. She examined the scene with a mortified look on her face.

"S-six," she stuttered. "I-I'm sorry. I-"

Six recomposed himself and knelt before her again. This time, he just held out his hand. She gladly accepted it and was helped back onto her feet. Six led her to his bed and shoved the books into a corner, offering her a seat. She sat down beside him.

"Six…" she said. "Do you know who that woman is?"

Six shook his head. She looked at him in disbelief for probably the hundredth time, but she quickly brushed that aside.

"You remember that Major I mentioned?" She asked. He nodded. "Well, she won that tournament. Twice. And without sponsorship from any corporation or knightclub, no less."

Six tilted his head. "She was an indie knight?" he asked.

"And a bit of an upstart at that. So much so that she was exiled from the Kingdom the first time around. Supposedly it was because she was Infected, but…"

She was clawing at the floor now. "That was a fucking lie. That was a lie to get her out of the Chamber of Commerce's hair. And when she came back for another run at the tournament, they revealed the truth to everyone. After she had won."

"Damn."

"And they tried to assassinate her both times. They failed of course. But that's not what this is about."

She turned to look him in the eye. "Six, I fought her before," she revealed.

"You were a contestant?"

"No! But this was before she returned to her homeland. She… was working with a faction that got caught up in my militia's struggles. We made them out as enemies and she proved herself to be a capable warrior. Wiped out many of our squads. Many of my fellow Infected. Our conflict with them ended years ago, but-"

"You think she's got beef with you?"

Lyudmila nodded. Six's brows furrowed.

"How dangerous is she?" he asked.

"Her younger sister beat Ingra to a standstill," Lyudmila replied. "She, however, has enough power and experience to garner attention from the Silverlance Pegasi."

"The who?"

"Kazimierz's elite forces."

Six scowled.

Great. He thought to himself. A knight that can give Centurions a run for their money. If what she said is true, then we've got a powder keg on our hands.

Six lowered his head, debating on the next course of action. An age-old idea crossed his mind.

"What about a disguise?" he suggested. "Or at least a mask?"

Mila's eyes narrowed as she processed the proposal. "That… does sound like a good idea," she admitted.

"Alright then. Just tell me your measurements and I'll-"

"Nyet."

Lyudmila walked over to the window and opened it. "I'm not just going to let you handle my wardrobe, izvrashchenets," she interrupted. "Not when I can just slip out and meet you at the store. Look for a place called 'Yaro's'."

Before Six could ask for directions, she slid out the window. He ran over to the opening to see her vanish into the distance. He cursed as he closed the glass barrier back down. He motioned ED-E to follow him, creeping past the blonde-haired mutant and out of the inn.

Six looked at his PIPboy. Maybe Hoover installed some type of tracking feature on it? He already had her phone number. Six fiddled around in the smart settings until he found something; 'Find Our'. Lyudmila's contact was the first thing to pop up. He smiled as he tapped it.

That expression did a 180 as a message popped up.

"Error! Contact appears to have disabled location-sharing. Please speak with them for permission to locate their device."

Six sighed. Well, at least he had an excuse to do some exploring. It took him a couple of minutes of wandering, but eventually, he found his companion. She was standing just outside of a wooden building with a bunch of different signs. The one in English read 'Yaroslava's Rags'. Six snickered. He had seen worse names for stands.

The young woman led them inside. The interior was more or less similar to Kovalenko's shop in regards to layout. Vending both front and center, supplies in the back. The key difference was in all of the clothing on display. It reminded Six of old pre-war stopping centers in the Mojave area.

The vendor herself was actually younger than Six expected. In fact, she appeared to be a younger version of Nadia. Her personality, on the other hand, appeared to be the exact opposite. Where Nadia had the warmth of a hearth, this woman had a sense of cold detachment. Apathy.

Her clothes were in nothing but blacks and grays. Her face was cloaked in dark makeup, giving her a gothic sort of vibe. What was the pre-war term some First-Gen Ghouls used for that style? 'Emo'? Yeah, emo was probably the word he was looking for.

She was hunched over her stand as they entered, hardly reacting as the bell chimed.

"Welcome to Yaro's Rags," she said in an indifferent tone. "Where the garbage is the least of your worries…"

When she noticed the party, she perked up. Did a double-take even as her eyes fell upon Lyudmila.

"Missed me?" the Lupo chuckled.

"Missed you? Nah," the other woman claimed. "But I didn't expect you to come back after-"

She stopped as she noticed the Courier. "Who's the tall and scary guy?" she asked.

"Him? Just a wastelander that needed a ride out east."

"He ain't with Rusthammer is he?"

Six tilted his head. Lyudmila sighed.

"A loose coalition of survivalists," she explained.

Yaro snorted. "And this guy never heard of them?"

"He's from the western coast."

"Huh. But aren't you supposed to be, like, training or something though?"

Training? Six thought to himself.

"Let's just say that I'm on holiday."

"Never knew the old hag cared about those. What's the occasion?"

Old hag? Six pondered again. A memory from Chernobog cropped up. Ah, her trainer from Siracusa. He realized. But she left her years ago, didn't she? Did she crawl back to her after Patriot's death?

Lyudmila looked away and she rubbed an arm while Six was lost in his thoughts. He snapped out just in time to see this and Yaro's reaction.

"Oh..." the merchant realized. "That day huh? And you went to the scene of the crime all by yourself?"

"He helped me fend off some vultures."

"Mercs? Damn, nobody in Chernobog gets any rest these days."

Yaro leaned into Lyudmila's human ear and whispered something to her. She shook her head, whispering back. The Ursus had a slight look of disapproval on her face. Maybe even concern too.

"We're looking for a change in wardrobe," Mila said out loud. "Specifically something with forest camo."

"Finally expanding it now, are we?"

"Just for this occasion. We're hunting."

"For game or…?"

"Both."

Yaro gave the Lupo another disapproving frown.

"Something wrong?" Six asked.

"She… has a dim view on bounties."

"Dead bounties," the vendor clarified. "I have no issue with them being brought in warm."

"Come on, Yaro. The world's hardly a nice place these days. Scum like Ingra would love nothing more than to watch people like us burn. You really want to let them roam so close to home?"

"I'd rather leave them in a cell than in a grave."

"And what jurisdiction would be willing to trade with, let alone pay us? This place wasn't on good terms with the Empire last I was here."

"Plus carrying a live body from their hideout to here comes with its own assortment of complications," Six added.

The woman sighed. "Let's agree to disagree," she said. "Clothes are to your left. Changing room to your right."

"How much protection do your wares provide, if you don't mind me asking," Six asked.

"All my threads have some basic ballistic weaving in them," Yaro replied. "If you need any additional armor or helmets, I've got some behind me."

Lyudmila thanked the other woman and ventured over to some hoodies. Six leaned against the stall while he waited. He cast a quick glance at the items behind him. Just as she said, it was mostly body-armor pieces and some headgear. The former was forged from a variety of materials. Leather, metal, kevlar, and even wood. The latter was just various models of gas masks and respirators. Some of them bore an uncanny resemblance to the ones of his world. Others appeared to be the upgrades.

He returned his attention to the wolf-girl. She was already trotting over to the changing station with something in her arms.

"So… what do you think of her?" Yaroslava asked.

Six turned to face Yaroslava. "What do you mean?" he asked back.

"I mean how would you describe her?"

Six's head bobbed as he pondered. "Fierce, artful, enticing. A bit headstrong at times, but then again what combatant isn't?" he replied. "Threw me off guard the first time we met."

"Off guard? You two tussled?"

"She initially mistook me as a member of some mercs' guild. We sorted it out real quick thankfully."

"Did she tell you anything about her old life?"

"Her dad was a scientist for the Ursus government. And that she fled from said nation after they killed him."

"'Did she ever say why?"

"She showed me a sneak peek. That's all I'm at liberty to say."

Yaro narrowed her eyes. "And what about afterward?"

"You mean living on the streets of Siracusa until she joined a militia back at the Empire? Yep."

"Did she ever say who they were?"

Six shrugged. "'Aegis of the Infected'?"

"That's just the title of a lieutenant," Yaro corrected him. "Did she ever mention them by name?"

Six paused. He shook his head as nothing came up. Yaro was about to say something when Lyudmila waltzed out of the changing room.

Gone was her old assassin's attire. In its place was essentially a camo-themed sports jumpsuit, tucked neatly under an anorak hoodie. Six couldn't help but notice the trefoil-shaped emblem on her pants… and how shapely her new duds were.

[Lady KIller] Six let out a soft whistle. "Functional and fashionable," he remarked. "You're killing it, Tania."

Lyudmila's cheeks turned pink as she scoffed. "Shouldn't you be looking for an outfit yourself?" she asked.

Six leaned off of the counter and thumped his Gear's chest plate.

"That's gonna stick out like a sore thumb in the daylight," she retorted. "Especially to any snipers and game lurking about."

Six's shoulders slumped. He grumbled and cursed under his breath, moving over to the clothing aisle. That robot of his hovered close behind him. Yaro leaned into Lyudmila's ear again.

"Did he just flirt with you back there?" she whispered.

"He did," she confirmed. "And it's rather annoying."

"Sounds like his hormones outpace his brain. Is he always like this?"

"Not when we first met. It started after he pulled me out of a car crash."

"Lemme guess; he stripped you to get to the shrapnel and glass."

"Yep."

"Does he know about your Oripathy?"

"Da. Hasn't deterred his advances, unfortunately."

"But he hasn't gotten handsy with you, has he?

"My hymen is still intact if that's what you're asking."

"Among other things."

Lyudmila grunted. Six walked past them with something folded up in his arms ED-E stopped to offer them some beeps and chirps, but neither local understood a damn thing it said. The robot followed its master over to the changing room, standing guard at the door.

"So… what do you think of him so far?" Yaro asked.

Lyudmila crossed her arms. "Eccentric. Boneheaded. Perverted. Eerily mysterious. Basically a mudak."

"Have you ever seen him without his armor on?"

"Well, he took off his helmet to show off some scars yesterday. Seemed to be about my age. Or at least part of the same generation. Apart from that, he's too paranoid to remove his armor. Usually sleeps in it."

"He sleeps in all that armor? And he doesn't show any signs of discomfort?"

Mila shook her head. "He didn't have any horns or extra ears under that helmet. His eyes and ears weren't as exotic as some Sarkaz's either."

"Hmm… maybe he's an Agier?"

The former assassin shrugged. "Maybe. Doesn't strike me as all that strong, though."

"Care to elaborate?"

"He struggled to pull the string of a basic bow yesterday. Yet two days ago he was lugging around a Gatling gun."

"Guns!? And he's not a Sankta?"

"Nyet. And some of them fired lasers and green sludge."

Lyudmila leaned into Yaro's ears. "There's something very fishy about that svoloch," she whispered. "And I don't like it."

The ladies heard a door open and shut. They turned to see a towering young man with fair skin and emerald eyes walking toward them. He was adorned in a turtleneck, tactical cargo pants, a keffiyeh scarf, heavy boots, and a parka. Like Lyudmila, the majority of the cloth was in forest-themed camo.

History repeated itself when Yaroslava's eyes popped out and she whistled.

"Well what do you know?" she said. "He does have some muscle after all."

Six looked away and grunted as his cheeks turned pink. The irony wasn't lost on the ladies either, to his dismay. They giggled at his reaction. Hell, even ED-E joined in on the schadenfreude. Six grasped the bridge of his nose and groaned.

"That all you two are looking for today, or would you like some armor to spruce up your duds up?"

"Please," Six replied.

Yaro knelt down behind her counter and procured a box of accessories. Padding, pouches, belts, and sheaths for weapons. One item stuck out to the Courier. It was a .308 bullet, repurposed as a necklace. Boone had shown one of these to Six before. It was a Hog's Tooth.

He greedily reached out for it, stopping just inches when his fingers felt… something brushing up against them. Something ethereal. Six shrugged it off and grabbed the artifact, slinging it across his neck. His PIPBoy bleeped as its inventory log was updated. He brought the device up for a brief inspection. He was surprised to find that it carried some actual stats.

Necklace of the Presence: 15 Guns, 1 Luck

That same aura slithered its way into his holsters. He reached down to grab two of his weapons; the Plasma Defender and A Light Shining in Darkness. Both of them felt a bit off now, but he couldn't say why.

"Ah, I see you have a taste for the esoteric," Yaro remarked.

"You could say that," Six replied. "What's the story behind the Hog's Tooth?"

The vendor grasped her chin. "Think it's something Laterano gives to their best snipers," she said. "Heard some superstitious nonsense about their god guiding their bullets and the like. Probably just laced with some homing-Arts or shite."

"Makes sense to me. I'll take it."

Six dished out the LMDs for his wares so far, probably spending up to 700. Lyudmila by comparison paid only 300 for hers, plus 50 for some leather pads. Both travelers purchased a kevlar chest plate, concealing them under their coats. 1000 total. Then it came time for the headgear.

As Yaro was setting them on the counter, Lyudmila froze up. Six followed her gaze to a particular gasmask. It bore a strong resemblance to the M40 line back on Earth. He gazed back at Mila. She had this strange reflection in her eyes now. Was she… holding back tears?

She gently shoved the M40 back to Yaro, shaking her head. The vendor had this condolatory look on her face. She obviously knew something Six didn't. When she gathered herself, she picked up a respirator. Six tilted his head. It bore some resemblance to the RU60's, but it was slimmer. Now that he thought about it, he didn't see any insertion points for filters either. Maybe they used internal pork chop filters? Her friend smiled and rang it up. 300 LMD.

Six already had a good idea as to what he wanted; the MCU-2/P and a helmet. Same price. They pooled their cash together for a few filters, just in case they entered a hazardous zone in the wilderness. 48 LMD for six of those. Satisfied with their shopping spree, the trio left the building.

"Now that you've got a change in wardrobe, what do you wanna do?"

"Stretch my legs some. Gotta get myself adjusted to these threads before we go adventuring. You?"

"Find a shooting range. I wanna try out this crossbow and rifle before the hunt begins."

"Hmm… mind if I join you then? We could trade moves."

Six grabbed his chin as he pondered. "Some training could save me ammo in the long run," he mused. "Alright, I'm game. Lead the way, huntress."

Lyudmila motioned for the dimensionally displaced duo to follow. Both heroes happily complied, keeping close to her as they waved through crowds of scavs.

None of them noticed the bluebird tailing them, though. Nor the soft azure glow it was emitting.

---

Date: October 2nd, 1098

Location: Rhodes Island

Time: 8:00 PM

To say that Rhodes Island has had an interesting life would be an understatement. They had faced insurrections, prevented wars, navigated through political intrigue, stood up against prejudice and injustice, a raid, even faced off against an eldritch abomination or two. And that's not even counting all of the eccentric souls that they had recruited over the years. Former mercenaries and terrorists, noblemen, mad scientists, fallen nobles, victims of mad science, even pieces of literal gods. And those were the tip of the iceberg.

In some ways, today wasn't all that different from their previous adventures. But it also stuck out among those like a sore thumb. Today they weren't just wading through politics or battlefields. No, they were tackling an entirely different beast; SCIENCE!

Exotic technologies have cropped up near Kazdel recently, and Rhodes Island has been working hard to collect them before the neighboring empires did. That wasn't the only thing that appeared on Terra, though. No, several lifeforms have also made the voyage to this twisted little paradise. Most of them were more or less regular humans (albeit of a weaker breed). But some appeared to have undergone… a radical change.

Within an airtight anti-chemical safety cabin were two Medics in hazmat suits. One of them was a Feline with brown hair and amber eyes. The other was a petite Vampire. These were Folinic and Warfarin, respectively. And right now they were scratching their heads.

Kal'tsit came to them with an urgent matter. One that required a fair bit of discretion on their part. When she showed them their 'patient', everything became crystal clear.

The entity before them was called a "Ghoul". Or rather, a feral specimen of a group of mutated humanoids. Not too far from them were the remains of one that retained his facilities. Someone by the name of Bronte. If it weren't for testimony from Projekt Red and Magallan, both ladies would've had a hard time believing that this man was alive to begin with.

At first glance, both specimens appeared to be suffering from leprosy. But closer examination revealed it to actually be necrosis. The Feral's reproductive organs seemed to have rotten off at some point in the past, along with the tongue and some toes. It didn't exactly help that the sweat glands produced macronutrients, drawing in every fly on the landship. Part of the reason Kal'tist had the Feral locked up in this room, actually.

Seeing as that they couldn't identify the phyiscal sex, Warfarin attempted to run a DNA test. To her shock, her instruments couldn't make heads or tails of that either. All it could agree on was the Feral had suffered extensive genetic damage. As far as her machines were concerned, sex and gender could no longer be applied to the husk. Bronte's case, on the other hand, wasn't as severe. Her instruments still identified his genetic sex as male.

Their CAT scans also revealed a number of things about them. Despite suffering from necrosis, cardiac and respiratory processes were still occurring in its chest cavity. Additional scans also noticed some changes in the larynx and vocal cords.

The thing that disturbed Folinic the most was its brain. While Bronte's appeared to be relatively fine, the Feral's was nothing but mush. Amiya had attempted to read its memories earlier, but she could barely get anything out of it. Just that it was wandering some wasteland, occasionally picking fights with the fauna and wastelanders. And Bronte… well, dead men tell no tales.

They quickly had their X-Rays printed off for the Doctor to examine when he returned. Neurology was his domain after all.

And now comes the most interesting part. Some of their returning Operators claimed that Ghouls could be healed by gamma radiation. Not just their skin regrowing or bones mending themselves back together. No, full-blown reattachment of limbs and even resurrection. Warfarin personally found this to be fascinating. Folinic was of course skeptical.

And Closure raised hell when Kal'tsit procured that they reconfigure one of their full body scanners into a radioactive test tube. She argued that could've used the so-called 'Gamma Gun' on the bodies, But Kal'tsit was firm. They had little understanding of its ammunition, let alone that many samples, to begin with. And with how crudely designed it was, they wouldn't be able to study it without causing damage to it or themselves.

They were dealing with new hostiles, hostiles from an alien environment. If any more of them reared their ugly heads, they needed to be ready. Especially when they still have Operators hanging around their point of origin.

Warfarin grabbed a saw and quickly hacked off the Feral's limbs. It howled as each extension went flying off, but it couldn't put up a decent resistance. Not while it was muzzled and tied down onto the patient's bed. Folinic flinched with each strike. As soon as the last one came off, she went to work on collecting and stapling them back on. A bit crude, but necessary for the experiment.

Folinic walked over to the console and brought its settings. Warfarin gave her a thumbs-up. The Feline nodded and activated the machine. The bed was pulled into the tube-shaped base, its test subject still howling and hissing. Their Geiger counters clicked as the radiation leaked out from the machine.

Warfarin looked like she was having butterflies. Considering her race's usual reaction to sunlight, Folinic couldn't blame her. They allowed the machine to run for a couple of minutes before they pulled the plug, Folinic walked over to the 'patient' as the device rolled them back out. To her shock, its limbs were fused back onto its body. There were hardly any signs that they were ever separated to begin with. Both Medics' jaws nearly dropped onto the floor when they noticed its fingers twitching.

"How…" breathed Warfarin.

Neither of them could conjure up an answer, let alone a theory. Folinic shook the stupefaction off and carefully removed the feral from the machine. It was strapped onto a stretcher, so it hardly posed a danger to anyone. She looked back at Bronte's corpse as she sat the creature on the ground.

The 'sane' Ghoul retained some semblance of a face. Sure the ears and nose were gone, but he at least had lips and eyelids. Even if all of his hair was gone, he still retained his frontalis muscles. In her eyes, he still resembled a human being.

She laid the body on the bed and repeated the experiment with it. Just like before, two minutes passed as they bombarded it with radiation. And as the machine released its grip on the corpse, both ladies held their breaths.

Bronte, on the other hand, still wasn't breathing. Each of them took turns checking for a pulse. Nothing. Folinic even grabbed a flashlight and shined it into an eye. No reaction.

They looked at each other. Warfarin seemed a bit disappointed. Had they not pumped enough radiation into him? She put a gloved hand over her shielded face, her gaze bouncing between the living and the deceased. Then she grabbed her bone saw and brought it down just above the Feral's waist.

"Woah, hold up!" Folinic yelled. "Just what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Testing a hunch," she said as she yanked the instrument out. "Run the experiment with this bastard again."

Folinic made a wry face before complying. She helped the Vampire sit the monster onto the bed and ran the machine again. Same as before, two minutes of radioactive bombardment. When the test subject was released from its cold womb, Warfarin unstrapped its legs. Despite the Ghoul's trashing, the legs hardly moved at all. She grabbed one and moved it around some. Nothing happened.

"Just as I thought," she concluded. "Their regenerative properties don't extend to their spinal cord." She frowned. "Pity. I would've loved to have a little word with Mr. Bronte."

The door opened up without warning. Both ladies spun their heads to see another figure in a hazmat suit. They lowered their guard as soon as the emerald eyes behind the mask.

"I think that's enough, you two," said Dr. Kal'tsit.

Warfarin raised an eyebrow. "You sure?" she asked. "There could be more data to be gleaned from these… things."

"These were once human beings, Ms. Warfarin. There's no need for additional testing in this chamber. A simple dissection should be enough to wrap things up… after we put the creature out of its misery."

Folinic shifted slightly. "Is that really necessary, ma'am?" she asked.

"We've already obtained the necessary scans from both of them. And while this entity is technically human, it has long lost its faculties. And given the atrophy and empty stomach, it doesn't appear to possess the mental capacity to sustain itself. To allow it to continue suffering in its current state would essentially be torture."

Kal'tsit drew a needle from her bag. "The only humane thing to do now is to end its pain," she concluded. "I have already arranged for a couple of operating tables and the necessary equipment to be sent here. I am leaving the procedures to you two."

Kal'tsit walked over to the machine's bed and injected the needle's contents into the feral Ghoul. They all waited for one minute. Then two. Three. Five. Nothing happened. Kal'tsit's eyes furrowed as she injected more of the chemical into the alien's body. Five minutes passed and still nothing.

All three medics were stupefied. Warfarin was the first to shake off the shock and grabbed the bone saw again. Folinic wanted to stop her, but Kal'tsit held her student back with a firm hand. Both women looked away as the Vampire sawed off the feral's head. They didn't look back until the screeching ceased.

"There, problem solved." a bloodsoaked Warfarin curtly said. "How much longer before the tables and utensils arrive?"

Fate answered the question for her in the form of a door opening up. Two figures were each pushing a table. And each table had a stand strapped to the front for convenience. The new arrivals- Tuye and Sussuro- swiftly set them up for Warfarin and Folinic. They flinched when they saw the decapitated Ghoul on the jury-rigged scanner.

"Don't ask," the Vampire casually suggested.

Both Medics nodded and promptly exited the chamber. Kal'tsit proceeded to follow suit, but she stopped herself at the door.

"I want a report from each of you by ten o'clock," she said. "Have their brains extracted for further examination. The rest of their remains are to be incinerated. If you excuse me, I have a patient to attend to."

And with that, Rhodes Island's chief medical officer left. Her first stop was the decontamination chamber. Mist rained down on her hazmat suit, washing off any radioactive isotopes that managed to cling to it. A device above the exit scanned her, flashing green and emitting a short tune. As soon as the doors rolled open, she stripped out of the suit and began her journey toward the medical wing.

She smiled as she spotted a certain Lupo among them. Her body was red from all the scrubbing she gave her, but it was a necessity. She couldn't risk affecting everyone else with radioactive particles. And she wasn't going to lose one of her best Operators to radiation sickness.

Projekt Red looked up from her bed to see her mentor walking in. Her tail wagged slightly.

"Doctor…" she said weakly.

"Still reeling from that diuretic?" Kal'tsit asked.

Red shrugged. "Head doesn't hurt as much," she replied. "Stomach's calm now too."

"That is good to hear. Get some rest, Young Wolf. We may need your prowess in the near future."

Kal'tsit turned to leave, but Red grabbed her by the sleeve.

"This man… he came alone," she said. "Do you think… that he is a lone wolf?"

Kal'tsit put a hand on her chin. "Perhaps," she said. "But then again we know nothing about his personal history. And technically speaking he didn't come alone, according to Fox Fire's testimony."

Projekt Red frowned. "Steel cannot hunt like wolves," she said. "Wolves are blood and flesh. And lone wolves… die alone."

"All the more reason to find him before some ambitious nobles do," said Kal'tsit. "And to return him to his homeworld. To his pack, if he still has one."

Red smiled as she released her grip on the medical officer. The young wolf then drifted off to sleep. A slight smile crept onto her teacher's lips as well. She and her squadmates had a hard day yesterday. They all deserved some rest. Pity that Rangers didn't get much R & R.

He was assigned to another squad by Amiya not long after they returned. They had already flown out several hours ago toward the Doctor's last known position. Liskarm had just left with another to track down Rainbow Team. Everybody else- or at least Operators they could trust to keep their lips sealed- was on the lookout for the Courier.

She sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. Even if they had a rough idea as to where he was going, Terra was still a large world. They have a lot of ground to cover if they want to find him. While the Ark was equipped with various sensors, they weren't exactly suited for manhunts. Part of the reason Amiya wanted to go to Great Lungmen was that they had the resources to do so… if they could convince Wei to keep the Yanese authorities out of the loop that is.

She checked her clock. 8:45. Time to visit Closure.

---

Date: October 7th, 1098

Location: Village of Grinkhorn, Southern Ursus Border

Time: 10 AM

Six didn't know what to expect when he signed up for this. Fisticuffs? Pool sticks? Axes? Glaives? Nope, none of those. Just ye olde swordsmanship. Was it a rarity back in the wasteland? Hardly. Hell, he even studied some martial arts during his adventures.

Sadly that skill department has waned since he took over New Vegas. Even when he did manage to sneak a new adventure or outing into his current schedule, it was usually engaging an enemy at medium-to-long range. Why put yourself at risk when you can just shoot? That, and most people tended to look down at melee in the Wasteland. He was no expectation.

Thankfully Lyudmila was happy to fill in the gaps. She had already proven herself to be a capable swordswoman, but he didn't think she'd be a drill sergeant. The way she barked orders and helped him maintain the proper posture brought back memories of the NRC and Legion training their troops.

[Melee 50] Many of the techniques bore an uncanny resemblance to those from Earth. The Zornhau, the Absetzen, Zwerchhau, Vor, Nach, Indes, and so on. Piece by piece it was all coming back to him. But a lot of those techniques were designed with longswords in mind. Not his Ripper, and probably not Bumper Swords either.

He still had Ghenna, but he didn't want to risk starting a forest fire out here. He mentally berated himself for not bringing his Kanata with him. Guess he'll just have to scavenge for a decent blade while he's here.

This exercise highlighted a problem on Six's part. Back on Earth, his Endurance allowed him to tank blows from Legionaries and certain creatures. The Terrans, on the other hand, have long since developed the raw power to surpass the average Homo sapiens. Maybe even Super Mutants or Deathclaws.

"Rotate your sword to its false edge," Lyudmila shouted as Six stepped back.

He complied. Lyudmila struck out with an Oberhau. Six raised his blade up in a corkscrew fashion, catching the other one and thrusting his onto her shoulder.

"Good. Now try a Schielahu."

Six brought his wooden longsword against his right shoulder. Lyudmila assumed his previous position and attacked. Six sidestepped to the right and brought his blade down onto her right shoulder. She didn't give him room to breathe, though. She threw in an Oberhau at him, forcing him to counter. Once more he twirled his sword as it came down, catching her on the wrist.

Lyudmila backed up and gave him a nod of approval before striking again. Six was able to block her sword with his own, but not for long. A drop in pressure warned him of an impending Verhagen - a sweep under and over his blade. The textbook response to this would've been a Mutieren. He raised his arms and twisted the blade onto its false edge. As the wooden blade's tip dipped downward, he thrust it onto her chest.

She stepped back again with a smile. Both combatants swing with an Oberhau, locking each other's blades. Six initially attempts to thrust his toward Mila's face but she raises her blade up. Six pushed forward anyway, letting his drop and pressing its flat edge against her arms. Then he released his grip on the weapon and wrapped himself up around her, throwing her onto the ground.

She grumbled as she whipped the dust off. Six offered a hand up, but she gently shoved it aside and rose onto her feet. Both got into position and swung with Oberhaus, locking their blades once again. Six twisted his blade around and displaced her's with his crossguard. He grappled her again, but this time circled around to her back and pinned her onto the ground.

Six leaned in towards her human ears. "So what's my grade so far, coach?" he teased.

"...B plus," she said, face turning pink.

Six raised an eyebrow as ED-E chimed in with a coy beep. Then he realized just how awkward their position was and promptly got off of her. He held his hands up in a defensive manner as he let out a nervous chuckle. The she-wolf grumbled under her breath while she helped herself up.

"That's enough training for now," she said. "Still up for the shooting range?"

Six nodded and motioned for her to follow. The range itself was rather simple; round multicolored targets on stands. Props resembling animals scattered about. Some decrepit practice dummies dangling about. Hell, he swore he saw something from one of those pre-war carnival games.

There were several weapon racks next to them. Most of them were some variation of bows or another, but he could make out a couple of rifles. Six grabbed one and examined it.

Like Scout's, it was pneumatic, with a hand pump and pressure gauge. Six grabbed it and gave the lever a good pull. To his relief, it didn't require much effort to pump. He pumped in more air until he heard an audible hiss. He looked to see the needle spasming as it reached the red zone, but it calmed down after enough air escaped.

[Guns 45] Six checked it for ammunition but was slightly disappointed to find it empty. Then again, he couldn't blame the handlers. Lady Luck has a mischievous streak, so removing the tubes was wise on their part. He cycled the rifle just to be safe. A BB pellet popped out.

Six's ears picked up footsteps not far from them, followed by an additional marker on his HUD. He turned to see another Liberi. This was closer to his and Lyudmila's age group and bore some resemblance to Latino wastelanders back on Earth.

"Hola," he said with a Spanish accent. "Here to test your skills?"

"More like I'm branching out," Six replied. "I assume that you're the owner of this shooting gallery?"

"Si," he said. "And judging from how you handled that rifle, you have a history with long arms?"

"You could say that."

The lad had an intrigued look on his face. "Sankta, eh?" he said. "There aren't many of those around here."

"What makes you think I'm one?"

The other man shrugged. "Some of them can turn off those annoying lights, believe it or not," he claimed. "They just have to be taught so."

"Sounds almost like a firsthand account."

"I had Sankta friends back in Iberia. I'm Dimas."

"Six."

Dimas raised an eyebrow.

"Amnesia," he curtly explained. "Six was my designation according to some worn-out contract."

"I see…"

"You said you were from Iberia?" Six asked. "That's all the way down in the southern hemisphere ain't it?"

"Si. And it was an arduous journey to the north."

"You came here for greener pastures?"

"You could say that. Anyway, what can I do for you?"

"Just acquainting myself with this type of rifle."

"Ah, first time with pneumatic weapons, eh?"

Six nodded. "Got a soft spot for weapons," he said. "Thinking about starting a collection back home."

"They're not your religion, are they?"

Six scoffed. "Do I look like some techno-fetishist to you?" he snorted.

"I've met worse. You've got experience with firearms, I take it."

Six nodded. "Some, but not a lot," he lied.

Lyudmila glared at him.

"I see. Well in regards to positioning your rifle, it shouldn't be that different from Laterano's arms. Or the standard crossbow. Of course, you'll want to watch the recoil."

Six resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Elementary. He thought to himself. "Which ammo type would be the best for this weapon?" he asked.

"Depends on how close you want to get to your enemies. Ball bearings are heavier than arrows, so they don't travel as far. Pellets on the other hand are aerodynamic and better at penetrating, but they're factory-made. Can't just find or craft them in the wilds. Of course, none of those are heavy hitters, so don't expect them to penetrate heavy that you'd want explosive arrows. Overall, not the best weapon for humanoid targets."

"Mind if I test that theory?" Six asked.

The man handed him a cylinder of ball bearings. Six inserted the magazine and brought the ironsight to eye level. He started with the closest targets first, moving on to the further ones from the back. By his estimates, the maximum effective range for this ammo type was 100 yards. Six tried out some rubber pellets next. Better accuracy and distance, maximum effect was at least twice as greater as ball bearings.

Six placed the airgun back onto its rack and drew out his modified crossbow. He collected some practice arrows from the man and opened fire. Same range as the pellets, so long as sufficient air was provided of course. Not as stable as the rifle sadly.

Six turned to Mila. "Fancy a few lessons, little lady?" he asked. "Or a contest?"

"I'll pass," she said.

"What's the matter? Afraid that I'll beat you?"

Lyudmila rolled her eyes. "As if," she said. "But right now we've got better things to do. Like hunting."

She walked over to him. "That being said, I wouldn't mind a little competition when we've done our chores. Meet back here in the afternoon?"

The way she looked at him caused a bit of a reaction in his chest cavity. He smirked. "Sounds like a tryst then."

Mila scoffed. "Just try not to get distracted, ragazzo amante," she said before walking off.

Six blinked. Did she just speak in Italian? He shook his head and gave chase. The displaced duo found her at the edge of town, near the woods. She pointed at them with her thumb before running off. Six and ED-E followed her into the taiga.

Not long afterward a blond-haired woman with sapphire eyes walked over to the start of the trail. A blue bird landed on her fingers, tweeting at her. She nodded with an expressionless face and watched as her familiar flew after the strange man.

---

Date: October 2nd, 1098

Location: Rhodes Island

Time: 9:00 PM

There are a thousand words one could describe the engineering department with. Busy. Loud. Cramped.

The same couldn't be said for some of the actual souls working inside. Mayer and Passenger were examining the remains of several of the robots Liskarm's team brought in. And suffice it to say they were rather baffled. None of them had seen models like these, let alone anything fueled by nuclear power. Even stranger was how some of them appeared to be Frankenstein-modifications.

Mayer was hunched over one of the 'eyebots'. From what she's been hearing, their quarry has one of these as a sidekick. Personally, she found this type of bot rather adorable. Cute enough to rival her Meebos even. From what Exusiai told her, its AI was on par with- if not more advanced than- theirs. She couldn't wait to meet the little guy… assuming it doesn't try to vaporize her.

This particular specimen unfortunately had a tendency to blurt out advertisements. Mainly for companies and media she never heard of. The Silver Shroud, speeches from someone called 'The Mechanist', a TV show following a robot named Ralphie, a radio drama starring a 'Mr. Dashwood'. And she swore she heard a recording in Yanese.

Passenger made an audible sigh as Mayer's John Doe began playing yet another tune.

What if there was a place with all the zip of Nuka-Cola?

Wouldn't that be the cheer-cheer-cheeriest place in all the world?

Where the river's made of Quantum, and the mountaintops are fiz-

"Miss Stony, if you would be so kind…" the Caster said.

Mayer nodded and unplugged the speakers. Not long afterward the door to another workshop swung open. Stepping out of it was Closure, brandishing some brown vambrace. No, not a vambrace. The Courier's old PDA. What was it called again? "The Pipboy 3000"? And she got that clunky hunk of junk up and running?

"What do you think?" she said with a grin.

"You finally found a compatible battery for that thing?" Mayer asked.

"Yeah, a Fission Battery."

Both operators dropped their tools.

"Fission?" Passenger said in disbelief. "As in 'Nuclear Fission'?"

"Hey hey, the eggheads already checked for leaks in that baby," she assured them. "If there was any, you'd think they'd just hand over a faulty product to me?"

"I'm more concerned with potential leaks in the future," Gnosis replied. "What happens if somebody dropped it onto a hard surface?"

"Can't be worse than that 'Gamma Gun' Liskarm brought back," said Closure. "Or all those other energy cells for that matter."

Passenger's brow furrowed. Microfusion cells, small energy cells, electron charge packs, gamma rounds, Fusion Cores, plasma cartridges, electromagnetic cartridges. Those were all the names Franka scribbled onto some notes while she interrogated some lowly raider. Raiders running around with weapons powered by miniaturized nuclear reactors. How the hell they managed to learn of-let alone acquire- any of them was beyond him. It was as vexing as it was unsettling.

On the one hand, this project excited him. Nuclear reactors had been around for a few decades, but most people just ignored the technology. For one there was a greater abundance of Originim than there were radioactive materials. But the idea that someone managed to minimize one? It sounded like the stuff of science fiction. Half of him was ecstatic over the possibilities.

The other half, however, felt uneasy. Franka's recording of her interrogations mentioned something called the atom bomb. A weapon that would irradiate the blast zone was one thing, but vaporizing everything caught in the explosion? Burning a person's shadow onto the environment? And if that wasn't disturbing enough, the same civilization behind said technology destroyed itself with it. The thought of a nation or some ambitious Sargon warlord getting their grubby claws on such weapons made even him shudder.

"Did you find anything on our cowboy?" Mayer asked.

"Yeah, this thing apparently recorded some of his adventures," Closure said. "Biometrics too. There're some firewalls, though. Gonna take a bit of time to tear 'em down. But that's not the only thing I discovered."

The Vampire removed the PDA from her arm and began fiddling with its controls. What she brought up appeared to be a list of its unknown users. Two of them caught the scientists' eyes; Mitchell and Six.

Last known users:

Mitchell

Date added: 2232

SPECIAL Rating: 4-6-4-6-7-5-4

Tagged skills: Barter, Science, Medicine

Known Affiliations: Vault 21, Goodsprings

Last update: 2274

Six

Date added: October 19th, 2281

SPECIAL Rating: 8-8-10-3-10-8-3

Tagged Skills: Survival, Science, Medicine, Repair

Known Affiliations: Goodsprings, Primm, Novac, Freeside, The Strip, White Glove Society, Great Khans, Brotherhood of Steel, NCR, Boomers, Followers of the Apocalypse

Last update: September 27th, 2288

Mayer and Passenger blinked at some key details. First of all was the final update. That was the day before he reportedly appeared in Kazdel, wasn't it? The second thing was the years on the list. 2232? 2288? That can't be right.

Mayer was the first to speak up. "What the heck does it mean by 'Special'?" she asked.

"Some type of algorithm in its analytical programs. It stands for Strength, Perception, Endurance, Charisma, Intelligence, and Luck."

Mayer snorted. "Sounds like whoever wrote it was a fan of tabletop games," she noted. "So what exactly is that bad boy? A fitness tracker? Biometric recorder? Smart device? Metaverse console?"

"Not a smart device, that's for sure. Doesn't have access to intranet like most of our current tech. That was supposedly one of the upgrades Hoover gave him for a newer model. That being said, there's some leftover firmware for a compass, motion tracker, and Geiger counter. I'm guessing our cowboy ran off with the hardware after Mr. Hoover printed him a new shell."

"Gieger counter?" Passenger asked. "Why would he need a Geiger counter?"

"Dunno. Maybe he worked at a nuclear power plant at some point. But If that's the case, I'm pretty sure there'd be some record of these things. I haven't found a single catalog mentioning this baby."

She flipped over to another tab. It was a graph of some of the things he accomplished in his previous adventures. His kill counts, chems taken, and any previous addictions. Locks and pockets picked, computers hacked, books read, pants exploded.

The thing that made their eyes pop was his killcount. There were two categories; people and creatures. Both of them had a score in the hundreds. Mayer and Passenger rubbed their eyes, but the numbers never changed.

Mr. Glover took a step back. "He's… a hyper-lethal vector?" he asked.

Closure nodded. "Assuming that this thing is telling the truth of course."

Mayer and Passenger didn't say anything. Couldn't say anything. They knew enough military jargon to know that the phrase screamed 'trouble." Hell, some of their fellow Operators would actually qualify as HL Vectors too. The Abyssal Hunters, Schwarz, Projekt Red, Executor, Phantom, Hellagur. Maybe even a certain Ghost of Babel depending on your definition of 'hyper-lethal'.

Just what the hell had they gotten themselves into this time?

Something else clicked in their heads. This device claimed that he's taken dozens of chem samples, yet it doesn't classify as what said substances were. He's also been noted to have developed addictions at least ten times. Yet the Pip-Boy also claims that said addictions have been cured via "Fixer" and visits to certain doctors. As far as either scientist was aware of, there wasn't a surefire way of curing drug addictions. And this man did?

Closure switched to a tab labeled "Perks". She pointed at several items on the list. Most of them contained the word "Implant".

"So he's a cyborg?" Passenger said. "Fascinating."

"Only from a scientific standpoint," Mayer noted. "He's probably a monster with all those mods."

"'Monster' is a rather vague term," Passenger retorted. "From what Leonhardt reported, he provided medical care to Infected wastelanders. So he's at least capable of empathy. So these 'Perks' are all cybernetic implants?"

She shook her head. "The only confirmed ones. There're mentions of armor and advanced tech, sure, but I wouldn't write them all as such. Some of these actually appear to be data-packages unlocked after meeting certain criteria. Take Mad Bomber and Daytripper for example. It had to grade him based on his work ethic and medical history. I found mentions of 'Ghastly Scavenger' and 'Scrounger', but those aren't actually inactive."

She snorted. "I'm surprised he hasn't unlocked all of them, what with his Skills being straight A's and whatnot. Maybe he has to manually activate each package himself?"

Glover put a hand on his chin. "His cybernetics could make him susceptible to EMPs," he ventured. "Perhaps we could-"

"Bad idea," Stony interjected. "If he's got hardware in his brain, we might fry it in the process. Amiya wants him alive, remember? Not braindead."

Passenger frowned." A fair point," he admitted. "Perhaps stasis Arts would be more practical."

"You mean like Sora and Orchid?"

"Precisely. The former in particular is incapable of harming recipients. She'd be valuable in a potential conflict with our cybernetic quarry."

"Assuming Emperor is willing to lend her to us," Closure noted. "Remember our contract with Monster Records."

"She surrounds herself with volatile variables on a daily basis. I'm sure they can provide adequate protection for her."

The doors swung open. All three eggheads turned to see Dr. Kal'tsit entering the scene.

"Have you compiled your reports yet?"

"I have," said Closure. "Already decrypted that flash drive for you too. They're ready for you to read at your leisure."

She cast brief glances towards Mayer and Passenger. "What about you two?"

Both of them nodded, each procuring folders and handing them to Kal'tsit. Closure followed their example.

"There's a meeting in the Control Center," Kal'tsit said to Closure. "And I want you there."

"'K. What time?"

"Now."

Closure groaned before following the lynx-woman out of the workshop. This is going to be a long night, isn't it?

---

Date: October 7th, 1098

Location: Benjamin Boreal, Southern Ursus Border

Time: 11 AM

How many times has Six seen greenery of this scale now? Four? Five? Ten? Did it really matter? Part of him wondered if he should be getting used to seeing it all by now.

They were in another taiga up north. Benjamin Boreal the locals called it. Apparently, it used to be part of another nation decades ago. 'Gaul', was it? Six faintly remembered Caesar mentioning that word from their brief talks back at the Fort. Probably a smaller nation that was absorbed into the Roman Empire. He wouldn't be surprised if this world's version suffered a similar fate.

He asked Lyudmila about Gaul, but she merely shrugged. Why did he even bother anyway? She was an assassin, not a historian. And honestly talking to her in broad daylight was probably a bad idea anyway.

While they were technically out for scrounging up resources and the occasional scouting, their bounties had already set up shop all throughout the region. If they were smart, they'd probably have patrol parties prowling about. Or at least a scout or two

His motion tracker hadn't picked up any movement so far, but that could change any minute now. What bothered him, even more, was some of the trees already had houses and platforms built onto them. That meant that the enemy had ample sniping spots. Lyudmila, on the other hand, saw it as an opportunity.

"You still got that grapple hook and jetpack?" she asked.

Six nodded.

"Then let's get started."

She sat her backpack on the ground and pulled some stuff out of it. A wrist-mounted grapple shot, a wheel of fiber rope, and a utility harness.

"Since you're sorely lacking in the Arts department, we'll just be using the grapple shot. Take off your coat."

Six tosses it over ED-E, earning him some irritated beeps. Once Lyudmila strapped the harness and threaded the cord through some hoops, he reclaimed it. The eyebot emitted some annoyed boops at him. Then she helped him strap the actual launcher onto his right arm.

"That wheel comes with an internal motor," Lyudmila explains. "So does the launcher. Both of them are linked via Bluetooth."

"That's basically short-range radio, right?" Six asked.

"More or less. Now, the grapple line is propelled either via magneto-impulse projector or compressed gas. We used the latter because it's cheaper and not as expensive to repair."

She held her right arm out. "This model uses a servo as an articulated magnetic hook to grab or impale its targets. The primary source of input for commands is hand gestures. Of course, it also includes buttons for each of those, if you prefer a more traditional method."

She points at a nearby tree with a platform. "Try to latch the hook onto the bark above. I'll show you the gesture for 'impale'."

She pointed with her leftmost fingers as if they were the barrel of a pistol. Six mimicked her as he aimed up at the tree. The next thing he knew, he had crashed into the bark with a loud 'thud!' and splinters all over him. Lyudmila was laughing like a hyena and clutching her stomach. ED-E seemed to be laughing with her.

Six growled as he shook his head. "And what's the other one for 'release'?" he shouted back.

It took a few seconds for Lyudmila to control her laughter before she responded. "Snip with those fingers," she shouted back. "Or press that red button on the inside."

Six snapped his fingers like a pair of scissors and the hook retracted. He dropped onto a knee with a grunt. Lyudmila walked closer to his position and sat a fist-sized piece of scrap onto an ancient stump.

"There's an additional command for that gauntlet; 'grab'. Pretty useful for plucking goodies. Hell, if you're precise enough, you can even disarm some jackasses. You can aim and press the green button, or use this gesture. Repeat either way to have it reel the goods in."

She held out a hand with her inner fingers and thumb curled up into her palm. Six was pretty sure he saw that in a comic once. He mimicked her again and watched as the hook's blades realigned themselves into a claw. The servo was flunked towards the piece of scrap, grabbing hold of it as it collided. It held on as the rope was reeled back into the gauntlet. As soon as Six got a hold of it with his actual hand, the talon released its grip.

"Pretty nifty," Six admitted. "But what happens if it grabs an enemy?"

"Depends on their weight. Anything under a hundred-eight kilograms can at least be dragged along. Anything more's too heavy. Might even pull you along if you're really unlucky."

[Intelligence 7] Six proceeded to count with his fingers. A hundred-eighty kilograms was roughly around four hundred po-

[Luck 4/6] -and accidentally activated the grappling hook again. This time it grabbed Lyudmila and pulled her into his chest, toppling him over. Both of them groaned as the world spun and stars danced above their heads.

"You know what?" Mila said in a dazed tone. "Just stick with buttons."

"Gladly," Six groaned back. "Which one for manual?"

"Blue…"

Six reached over her and pressed it. There were some beeps and a couple of flashing lights for confirmation. Lyudmila helped herself onto her feet, then held a hand out for Six. He took it.

"Alright, class is dismissed," Lyudmila said. "Ready to get back to our chores?"

Six nodded. The three of them spent the next half-hour collecting herbs and fungi for the village chef. Another half-hour was spent hunting for game. That grappling hook proved pretty useful for catching those pesky wad-wabbits. Lyudmila proved herself to be a capable archer during their hunt. Six was almost jealous.

The next stop was this nest of giant insectoid creatures. Needleflies, the bounty called them. They were over a meter long, with razor-sharp stingers and (reportedly) corrosive venom. They reminded him of the Cazadores back home (and to a lesser extent drawings of creatures called 'Stingwings'). Six shuddered as a memory of Bourus's abominations replayed in the back of his mind.

Lyudmila quickly took a few photos on her smartphone and marked its location on her map. The trio snuck away with ease and ventured off toward the ruins of another village. What was it called again? "Rouilleton"?

Whatever its name was, it certainly wasn't abandoned. A gang of Sarkaz had already set up shop inside the ruins. And sitting within the center of it was one of their targets; David the Goliath.

Six scowled, taking cover behind a tree. He took out Christine's rifle and peered through its scope. He recognized some of the units from his crash landing in Kazdel. Lyudmila was happy to provide him with actual names and titles. Greatswordsmen, Casters, Crossbowmen, Sentinels, Lancers, Grudgebearers, Bladeweavers, Fighters. David in particular was a Centurion.

Interestingly, their attire's primary colors were bone-white. And some of them appeared to be setting up an altar. It bore a striking resemblance to the ones in Chernobog.

Lyudmila had that righteous fury in her eyes again. She obviously had beef with this particular group. She looked like she was about to pounce on them, but Six put a hand on her shoulder. He shook his head.

"Plan first," he whispered. "Then you can pounce."

Lyudmila's brows furrowed, but she nodded begrudgingly. "Do you know anything about their ranks?" she asked.

"Apart from the standard swordsmen and crossbowmen? Lancers charge headfirst and Casters ensnare. You?"

"Sentinels can empower their squads with Arts if they spot or so much as get scratched by an enemy. As soon as everyone feels it, they'll know we're here. Grudgebearers fire homing Arts from their hands, and aren't shy of dual wielding them. Bladeweavers just infuse their greatswords with Arts."

She pointed at an altar. "Sarkaz are renowned for their rituals," she continued. "Altars like that unleash Arts-blasts as a sort of controlled pulse. Usually doesn't differentiate between friend and foe, but those Guerilla Casters and Fighters over there are the expectation. It empowers them."

"How volatile are those altars?"

"Dunno. Why? You fancy some fireworks?"

Six smirked as he drew out some C4 and a detonator.

"Well, that might work… if you didn't have to get close to that thing. Once it starts pulsing, it's not gonna stop. For all we know, those waves might detonate your charges prematurely. What about those rockets of yours?"

"You mean Annabelle? Or Red Glare? Their contents might be fast enough to obliterate that thing before it charges up another shot. But everyone's gonna hear the commotion, regardless. I have some landmines, though. Could be useful for ruining someone's leg day."

"Let's wait for the Sentinels to venture off first. Then we'll lure out the Grudgebearers and Bladeweavers. Pick them off one by one before we toss in the fireworks. Sounds good?"

Six nodded. A few minutes passed before they kicked their plan into motion. Six made the first move by grappling one of the smaller swordsmen. He let out a yelp as he was pulled along, but a knife to the throat kept it from escalating into a scream. That caught the attention of a Bladeweaver, however. Six waited for him to leave the town ruins and venture into the woods.

By the time the brute discovered the body, Six had already swapped out the cartridge in Sleepytime with one containing JHP rounds. He ripped through his armor before finishing him off with his Ripper. He heard more footsteps approaching him and spun around-

-to get his gun thrown out of his hands by another Bladeweaver. Six fell back onto his Hyperbreeder, but the lasers bounced off of his armor. Six took out his Plasma Defender and tried that. It merely dispersed around him.

What the hell?! Six thought. What kinda material is that armor made from?

Six spotted his SMG and made a grab for it. He fired whatever bullets he had in the cartridge and stepped back as he reloaded it. He duked just in time to avoid decapitation, firing onto his enemy's sword arm. He smiled as he Crippled it, drawing out his Ripper and sawing his leg off. He screamed as the limb was severed, but his cries were cut down with it. A swing to his neck ensured that.

Some of the regular-sized swordsmen came over to investigate, but they were all reduced to glowing green puddles. Six reloaded his weapons as he walked back to the edge of Rouilleton. To his relief, none of the Sentinels were any the wiser. Lyudmila returned not long after, giving the Courier a nod and thumbs up. The Bladeweavers were all accounted for. Now came the trickier part.

Seeing as the Grudgebearers have a tendency to multitask, it was decided that Six and ED-E lure them out one by one. A .308, JSP hand load from Christine's rifle pinged against the first one's armor, drawing his ire. ED-E was floating out in the open as bait and fled once the Sarkaz began flinging magic at him. Six kept the pressure on him, soon drawing his argo onto himself as well.

More swordsmen were being drawn to the commotion. As soon as a group of them cluttered up, Lyudmila threw a grenade at their feet. Most of them were killed in the blast, and those that survived were swiftly cut down by the Lupo. The first Grudgebearer joined them soon afterward. And the others were felled with the same strategy.

With them out of the way, Six drew up Annabelle and fired at the Altar. Shrapnel and crimson energy rippled throughout the bandit stronghold. A Guerrilla Caster and a Fighter were both caught in the initial blast, and were seemingly vaporized by the subsequent Arts wave. Another of each class survived, though, and were now coated in a blood-red aura.

That same Aura found its way over to the rest of the camp. At first the trio thought it was the energy burst that was responsible, but then they saw needle-like figures in robes running onto the scene of the crime. It was the Sentinels. They and everyone in the camp were now on high alert. The heroes cursed in their respective tongues.

David arrived at the sight of the explosion, shouting something to his fellow warriors. Six loaded up another missile and fired it at a small cluster of enemies, but a Caster intercepted it with a burst of magic. Fortunately, the resulting explosion produces a modestly-sized smokescreen over some of the demon-folk. Lyudmila pounced on this opportunity and made swift work of the unlucky bastards caught in it. She was already gone by the time the smoke cleared.

One of the Goliath Crossbowmen spotted something darting through some crumbling houses. He motioned for his squadmates to follow him. Just as they rounded the corner, though, they heard a soft click. Then something started beeping. They all knew what that meant. The ones in the rear managed to scramble to safety, but the same couldn't be said for the frontliners. Several were blown to pieces, several more having their legs crippled.

The Goliath archer growled as he hoisted himself onto his knees. His heavy crossbow wasn't too far from him, thankfully. He just had to crawl over there. His knees screamed as he made his way over, but he endured. He was a Sarkaz. Just as he reached for his weapon, someone kicked away from him.

He looked up in bewilderment- no, fury- at the bastard who did it. All he saw was a buckshot flying from the shadows. It pierced his mask and buried itself into his brain, splattering gray matter and blood. His killer emerged from the darkness and switched magazines as his surviving goons entered the scene. They each got a healthy dose of magnum rounds.

Six emerged from the building to come face-to-face with a Sentential. He sawed off his legs with the Ripper and then beheaded while he lay there screaming. He turned to see a Gurllia caster staring down at him. He sidestepped an attempt to club him with his staff, emptying his magnum magazine crippling an arm and a leg. While he was switching out a mag of regular 12 gauges, the mutant unleashed an AOE burst of Arts.

This threw Six back, causing him to drop his Riot Shotgun. Six backpaddled and drew out A Light Shining In Darkness. It took most of a magazine to finally put him down. Six quickly reclaimed his shotgun and reloaded both firearms. Just as he holstered his pistol, a battlecry erupted from behind him. He spun just in time to get clawed across the chest plate by a Guerilla Fighter.

Six snarled as he felt a hand against his chest. The plate took out the brunt of the blow, but it was falling apart. Six rolled around another swipe of his claws and fired at his exposed back. He ducked and rolled under a backhanded swing, emptying out another magazine. The bastard was charging at him when Lyudmila leaped from the crumbling rooftop. She landed on his back and grabbed onto his helmet with one hand. Her other one reached for a knife and jammed it into his neck.

He managed to throw her off and yanked the knife out. That turned out to be a back idea, as he started coughing and sputtering. He drowned in his own blood thirty seconds later. ED-E flew onto the scene with a few scraps on his frame, but nothing serious. Automated repairs were already patching them up.

Someone started clapping their hands. The trio turned to see a certain Centurion applauding them.

"Looks like you finally grew some fangs, little pup," David said.

"Save it, traitor," Lyudmila snarled.

Six passed a confused glance at the wolf-girl. Did she know this guy?

The giant snorted. "'Traitor'?" he asked. "I'm a mercenary, kid. I only lend my swordarm out to the highest bidder. Ain't my fault that Talulah had stepper pockets than you or Patriot."

"I faintly recall some of your buddies forfeiting payment to join our cause."

"Until the Wendigo kicked the bucket. Reality kicked them in the teeth like a fucking freight train. Ideals don't fill bellies, lass. Only hard cash."

"Speaking of cash…" Six butted in as he brandished the All-American.

The Sarkaz snarled. "You're working with a Sankta?" David snapped.

"Do you see any wings or halos on me? I ain't no angel. And I sure as hell ain't a devil either."

"Then what the fuck are you?"

"A Wastelander."

Six struck out first with burst fire from his combat carbine. David dove for cover as bullets and lasers soared. Lyudmila primed a grenade, forcing him out of his cover. Six stuffed an entire magazine of .223 rounds into his body, but he still stood proud. When he saw that Six was reloading, he sent out twin bursts of Arts at them. Lyudmila closed towards him, dancing around his greatsword as she cut into his legs. She tried to stab him in the knee, but her knife's blade snapped off. She was surprised to see a metal plate under those baggy pants of his.

She altered her density just in time to avoid getting skewed by his greatsword. He would've swung it at her again, were it not for a certain enigma. He snarled as he turned his gaze towards the gunslinger, focusing his firepower on his arms. He let out a yelp as the bone beneath his swordarm crumbled, causing him to drop his weapon.

Lyudmila drew her sword from its sheath and swung it at his neck. He could only let out the briefest of gurgles as she nearly decapitated him, missing his spine by a centimeter. It didn't help him that much, though. He expired seconds later.

Six walked over to the corpse and drew out his Ripper. He sawed off the head the rest of the way and transferred it to his PIPBoy's subspace storage.

"One down, four to go," Six said. "Ready for our scavenger hunt?"

Lyudmila nodded, shaking the blood off of her blade. They spend the next few minutes salvaging the items on their clients' shopping list. Wood, steel, glass, gears, springs, leather, plastic, even medical supplies. Once they'd gathered all of the right materials, they made their way to the nearby river.

"So," Six stared as he took out a vial. "You and David knew each other?"

"Regrettably," she replied.

Six filled and capped the tube up, stuffing it into his inventory.

"It sounded like there was a divide in your group," Six noted as he repeated the process. "What did you mean by 'tratior' back there?"

Lyudmila bite her lip. "Let's just say that Talulah had bigger plans than she let on."

"And Patriot disagreed with her?"

"By the time he pieced it together, he probably thought it was too late. He would've taken the fight to her himself but he ran into… a third party."

"The knight's group?"

Lyudmila nodded. Six blinked. Her people killed that guy?

"More like her employers," she corrected herself. "But she was among the warriors present at Chernobog. Or rather, its heart. Honestly, he probably thought they were doing him a service granting him a final battle like that. His Oripathy was more severe than most folk I knew at the time."

"And where were you in all of this?"

"I… had a crisis in faith during that time. I stayed out of the fighting and watched from the fence."

"What happened?"

Lyudmila sneered."Look, a lot of this is personal and cuts real deep for me, okay!?" she snapped. "Just drop it!"

Six was taken aback by her sudden outburst. And apparently, she was too.

"I'm…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- It's just… a lot happened that day. You ready to head back to base?"

Six nodded. The flesh bags maintained an awkward silence as they trekked back to Grinkhorn. ED-E kept glancing back and forth between the group and the trail behind them.

"What's wrong, buddy? Six asked.

ED-E emitted some concerned beeps.

"Does it appear to be humanoid?"

ED-E emitted some negative beeps, followed by some expository tones.

"It's probably just some curious critter," Six presumed. "Not everything in the world wants to eat ya after all."

ED-E emitted some bleeps again.

"Well, if something tries to get the jump on us, you'll be the first person to know, right?"

ED-E emitted some prideful beeps. They had already reached the village gate and-

Six locked up. There, fast asleep on a fold-up chair was the Sarkaz in white. Lyudmila walked up to him and tapped his shoulder.

"Hey, something wrong?" she asked.

Six shook his head. "It's nothing."

Six started walking over to Cupid's arrow to collect their payment. Lyudmila cast a glance back at the woman near the trail. For some reason, she was getting a sense of deja vu.

Nadia was inside the building, helping herself to some type of sandwich. It reminded the Courier of something Douglas had once sold. What did he call it? 'Cranberry meatball grinder'?

"Welcome back, Malen'kiye," she said with a mouthful. "What can I do for you?"

The duo unpacked their goods and sat them on the ground. Mila typed something on her smartphone while Six placed the vials and a marked map on the desk. Nadia's phone beeped shortly afterward. She glanced at it while wolfing down the rest of her meal.

"Horosho. That's… let me count for second. Salvage, six hundred. Samples, three hundred. Meat… hm, eight hundred. Recon, three hundred. Is this all?"

Six took out David's severed head out of subspace. Nadia jumped up and nearly gagged at the sight.

"Put it in a bag!" she shouted.

Six complied while Lyudmila gave him a 'WTF' look. He took out a wanted poster of the target and showed it to her. The woman calmed down and readjusted her glasses.

"David Reese?" she cast a glance at Lyudmila. "Tie up loose ends, malen'kaya ledi?"

"More like he was an obstacle," Lyudmila claimed. "He and his gang set up shop in Rouilleton."

Nadia frowned. "Ah, I see," she said. "Well, thanks for freeing up that old dump. Now that head is… oh, seven thousand. Total should be about nine thousand LMD. Don't waste it all, deti!

The duo split their payment up and bid the elderly woman farewell.

"Think that's enough community service for you-know-how?" Six asked.

Lyudmila nodded. "Can we get lunch first, though? I think I've worked up a bit of an appetite out there."

"Alright. But who's gonna pay?"

Mila shrugged. "Flip a coin?"

Six took out a strange gold coin from his pocket. On one side was a bald man with a laurel wreath. Engraved above him were the words Aeternit Imperi. The other side contained an image of a bull, with the words Pax Per Bellum.

Lyudmila raised an eyebrow. Isn't that the Lateranian tongue? Or is she thinking of Minoan?

"Something I looted from a slaver's corpse out west," Six explained. "Caesar's Legion."

"Never heard of them," Lyudmila said.

"Of course you wouldn't have. They've been on the decline for a while now."

"Decline?"

"Their leadership hasn't been in good health for the past few years."

"Why?"

Six shrugged. "Old age? Initially, it was because of a brain tumor or something, but that's been taken care of long ago. Probably left its mark on their overlord's brain. Anyways, I've got heads. You've got tails. Ready to flip?"

Lyudmila flipped something alright. She flashed the double cheeseburger at him with a grin. Six rolled his eyes as he flipped the coin and caught it.

[Luck 4/5] Heads.

"God dammit," Six cursed.

Lyudmila snickered. "I never knew you were such a gentleman," she teased.

ED-E joined in on the laughter. Six grumbled under his breath as the trio walked inside. None of them noticed the bluebird spying on them from a nearby rooftop. Nor did they see it fly to a certain woman in white. She stirred to life as the glowing specter landed on her lap.

"You're back," she said. "Have they returned yet?"

The bird chirped.

"I see… what did you find?"

---

Date: October 2nd, 1098

Location: Rhodes Island

Time: Around 9 PM

Geology. The study of the earth and its bones. Its chemical and mineral makeup. Even its history. An underrated science, if you were to ask some students.

Earthspirit was studying some samples taken from the ruins of Staubstadt. Rocks, soil, even pieces of originium The only complication was that she had to wear a hazmat suit while she conducted her research. At first she found it puzzling that they'd have her study something from Kazdel. Even more so when there weren't any reports of Catastrophes within the village's region for the past few years. But when she conducted her tests, she quickly saw.

The first thing she noticed was how little originium there was in these. Usually, some residual particles lingered on after a Catastrophe. Initially part of her suspected these to be from Kjerag, but the Ph levels were too high.

But the most startling revelation came from her Geiger counter. It was subtle, but there were traces of radioactive isotopes in all the samples. As far as she was aware, nuclear power wasn't all that popular in most countries. The only exception might be Columbia, but even they were hesitant to embrace it. She blamed the originium monopoly.

She wasn't the only one involved in this project, of course. Mudrock was also recruited into this project at the behest of Kal'tist. Actually, she was the one who picked out these samples. Her innate Arts allowed her to sense something within them, something that made them stick out.

She tried to form one of her miniature automatons from a pile of clay, but she struggled to maintain a humanoid shape. When she finally got one to function properly, it was… well, a blob with needle-like tendrils. If Earthspirit were to guess, the isotopes might've been disrupting her Arts. But she didn't have the time to test that theory out, though. Not unless Kal'tist waltzed in here and threw another hour of work at her.

She glanced back at Mudrock. She was leaning so close to them, straining herself to hear them. Her facial expressions were a whirlwind of negativity. Confusion, shock, horror, disgust. A couple of times it seemed as though she was about to blow a fuse. Every now and then she wrote something down in a tiny notebook. Small enough to place in one's pocket.

And people call you the crazy one. Snorted a voice in the back of her head.

She followed the source to the originium crystal in her staff and lowered at it.

What? You're the only one that's receptive to my transmissions. It continued.

"And the first ones you sent were nothing but gibberish," she whispered back at the rock.

If it makes you feel any better, your brain was a flippin' maze before I found my way around.

Earthspirit rolled her eyes and resumed her research. The last thing she needed was some annoying telepathic chunk of ore distracting her from her work. She looked at the clock beside her. 9:20. Time to clock out.

"I'm leaving now," she told Mudrock. "Deliver my findings to Kal'tsit when you're done with yours."

Mudrock nodded and wished her goodnight as she departed. Though the halls of the scientific wing were eerily silent, the actual labs themselves were bustling with activity. Mudrock had offered an abridged version of her mission, but she could hardly believe it. Bandits teleported outta nowhere? And armed with advanced technology at that?

And speaking of tech, she just passed by rooms filled to the brim with it. In one were Gnosis and Mayer, studying the wreckage of some robots. Another, more private room was opposite of it. She could hear something resembling energy blasts. It didn't sound like any Arts she knew of, though. Wasn't it occupied by Sesa and Adnachiel?

She shook her head. None of that was her business, and she certainly wasn't being paid to ask about all this. Her main focus should be relaxing and getting some R . She slipped into her dorm and quickly changed into her nightclothes. Tomorrow was just going to be another day of work. Another paycheck.

---

Date: October 7th, 1098

Location: Grinkhorn, Southern Ursus Border

Time: 2 PM

Lunch sped by the heroes real quick. Even shorter was their meeting with Chayka. Nadia had just informed him of their accomplishments and he seemed pleased with their conduct.

"Mhm, everything appears to be in order," he muttered. "So you're at least smart enough to read and identify your objectives. And you're competent in stealth and combat. Alright, you've completed your end of the bargain, I'll start mine. I'll make a couple of private calls and arrange your friend's passage. But if you're going to infiltrate civilization, you'll need a key item."

The man walked over to a cabinet and pulled out something from it. It was a device with an optic installed at the front. If he were to guess, it was this world's version of the camera. Part of him wondered if it used film or contained the images digitally.

"You might be avoiding the front door," Chayka began. "But you're still interacting with society nonetheless. If you want to keep a low profile, we'll have to forge you one. You'll need a passport and a couple of other pieces of identification."

"I thought those were just for gaining entry into the big cities?" Six asked.

"Among other things. You'll need them for certain services."

"Name one."

"Bars."

Six shook his head in disbelief. "Seriously?" he asked.

"Seriously. They're not gonna serve up drinks to random strangers. There are laws against giving alcohol to kids. And the penalties for breaking it can be pretty damn severe depending on the locale. So yes, you need a tiny slip of plastic to get into some places. This won't take long. I'll just take a photo and ask you some questions."

The Courier crossed his arms.

"Don't worry," the elder assured him. "You don't have to be honest with me. Now take off that hood and mask."

"Could I bleach my hair before we start?" he asked.

"If you happen to have anything for the job. And have enough to consistently recolor it to keep up appearances."

Six grumbled under his breath as he removed his headgear. The Courier adjusted his locks of hair slightly before he stepped in front of the ancient machine. Chayka raised an eyebrow.

"Hold up, what race are you? Aegir?"

Six wanted to slap himself but he resisted the urge. Instead, he casually shrugged.

"Woke up without any racial traits after my near-death experience," he lied. " If I had anything like tails or horns, they were probably hacked off when I was ambushed."

"Ambushed? By who?"

"Someone that wanted a package I was carrying. They shot me in the head and I barely survived. Lost my memories and original face in the skirmish. Got my revenge eventually, but it didn't fix anything."

The man clasped his fingers together and let out a small 'hmm'. He walked over to his desk and reached for something from a draw. It was a pin. Then he plucked some of his feathers off of his person and super glued them onto the clip.

"We'll write you off as 'Liberi' then," he said. "When that dries, you can pin these onto your hair and we'll take your picture then. In the meantime, I've got some questions to ask. I can see your eye color and gender a kilometer away, but I don't have a meter stick on hand. Do you know your height?"

"Six feet, two inches," Six said before counting with his fingers. "[Intelligence 7] or at least 188 centimeters in the metric system."

"Alright. Address?"

"Does 'The Wasteland' count?"

"In this case? Yes. And if what you say is true, there's no need to ask about your social security number. Date of birth?"

"Can't remember. Amnesia. But I was revived on October 13th."

"Can't remember the year either?"

Six shook his head. The man sighed as he jotted the answers on a notepad. "What about an alias and signature?" he asked. "Because I doubt 'Six' will sit with most civilized folk."

Six took out a sheet of paper from his pocket. It was a list filled to the brim with names. The man blinked.

"I… reportedly had a habit of using aliases before I lost my memories to bullets," Six claimed. "My old employers at a couriers' guild kept a list of all the ones I used."

"I see… Any, in particular, you had in mind?"

Six placed a hand on his chin as he examined the piece of paper. There were so many to choose from. So many to scramble. Jonathan Guitar. Jason Argonaut. Artem Weiss. Nimrod. Hercules. Ahura Mazda. Ra.

His eyes fell upon two in particular. 'Vela' and 'Theseus'. He smiled and grabbed a small piece of paper. He forged a makeshift signature for the middle-aged man and handed it to him.

The man nodded in approval. "Theseus Vela, eh? Alright then. That's about it. I'll contact you once we've got all the players onboard. In the meantime, relax. Or don't. We've still got plenty of bounties and oddjobs."

Six nodded and gave his thanks before exiting the room with his companions Lyudmila turned to him as they went into the bar.

"So… Liberi, huh?" she asked with a hint of jest. "Certainly explains your reflexes."

Six shrugged. "[Perception 8] Well, folks back home liked to call me a 'Monocled Falcon'," he replied.

"So what's the plan now?"

"Dunno. You still up for that contest?"

Lyudmila stretched her arms out. "Later," she yawned. "Right now I need to rest my legs."

Six couldn't help but yawn too. "Alright. I can get behind that. Got some reading I need to catch up on anyway. How about before dinner then? Loser has to pay."

The girl smirked. "You're on," she said.

The trio made their way back to the room. Lyudmila stretched herself across her bed while Six took a seat at the table and took out a book from his backpack. The medical book that fox-eared woman gave him back in Da Vinci, to be precise. What was her race called again? 'Vulpo'?

He had been curious about the physiologies of this world's races for some time now. Just during lunch, one of the scavs claimed that Perros- dog people- had a chemical aversion to chocolate. Probably the theobromine to be precise. He wouldn't be surprised if they had a similar reaction toward acetaminophen and ibuprofen. Maybe he can exploit these weaknesses in the near future.

Different animals back on Earth also had different levels of durability. Something told him that a regular scalpel won't cut it with some races (or cut off too much). By the time he closed the book, two hours had already passed. It was a good read, but books alone can only get you so far. He needed field experience.

His mind wandered back to the medical center. Chayka did say they were understaffed at the moment. Six rose from his seat and glanced back at Lyudmila. She had already drifted off into a blissful nap. He ripped a page from a notepad and wrote a message down on it. Then sat it in her bed and walked to the door.

"ED-E, guard mode," he ordered.

The eyebot emitted some acknowledging beeps, followed by some inquisitive ones.

"Just lending a hand with the local medics," Six said. "I need to practice my skills with a scalpel if I'm gonna take care of myself and Tania here. I'll be back by dinnertime."

Six locked the door as he slipped out. As he walked down to the bar, he couldn't help but notice how empty it was. Then he saw several scavs running towards the training area. Several more were walking away from it, holding onto bags of ice and the occasional bandages.

"Yo, what's going on?" Six shouted to a trio of Ursus.

"Knight is giving out lectures at sand pit," said one. "Roughed some contenders up a little, but otherwise is careful."

Six put a hand on his chin. That woman was giving out fencing lessons? Sounds like he could pick up a few lessons from her class. Not to mention that'd give him a look at her tactics. If she is as dangerous as his guide described her, then any intel he can pick up would be available.

"Say, aren't you man that killed Reese?"

All eyes fell upon him

"...maybe?" Six replied. "Had some help."

"Did town big favor either way," said the man. "We cannot thank you enough."

Six turned his gaze back to the medical tent. "Uh, you're welcome?" Six said awkwardly. "But I really need to get going."

The bear-man nodded as the Courier walked away. The place hadn't changed a bit since he was here. And neither had its occupants. Scavs were still being bandaged up and medics were running around trying to attend to everyone. It felt even more crowded right now. Probably from the influx of 'challengers'. None of them seemed to be critical, though. Just some bruises and the occasional black eye. Hell, many of them were tending to the more critical patients.

Those two women tending to a man all wrapped up in bandages. If it weren't for the bear ears sticking out, he'd probably have mistaken him for Joshua Graham. Six walked over behind the ladies to get a better look at him.

[Medicine 40] Most of his body was covered up, so it was impossible for him to give a proper prognosis. But he appeared to be missing a limb at least. And he had a peculiar smell to him. It smelled like a burn, but not the charred kind. No, it smelled like some type of chemical. Something about it felt familiar to Six. Where had he picked up that scent from?

A memory replayed in his mind. Dark tunnels, black snail-like shapes, a burnt leg… Six's brow furrowed.

Slugs. Six realized. And the acidic variant judging from the smell.

It was then that both women realized that someone was behind them. Six jumped back as they spun around, the taller lady clutching her sword. They both cooled down when Six held up his hands defensively.

"Sorry," he said. "Got a bit curious. I assume that guy ran into acid slugs or something?"

'Da," said a masciuline voice. "This idiot went digging around in slug nest for easy den'gi."

Six turned to see the Feline doctor from earlier. He still had that deadpan expression on his face, bags under his eyes.

The doctor shook his head. "Ihor didn't think to bring backup with him, or take variants into account. He is lucky that a fellow stalker nearly tripped over him as he crawled out."

He shook his head. "Second-degree burns. Thankfully not deep enough for permanent damage. His clothes took up the brunt of blow, so to speak."

"[Medicine 50] He didn't need skin replacement did he?"

"Fortunately, nyet," the man replied. "It wasn't deep enough to necessitate replacement, but he still lost much of outer skin. Had to graft healthy layers onto damaged ones. Surprised you know about this technique."

"I picked up some medical books out in the Wasteland," Six said. "Many of them were probably outdated by the time I dug them up, though." By several centuries.

"Have you any medical experience?" Six couldn't help but sense some desperation- hope- behind those words.

"Some," Six said. "Stitched up my partner and some villagers in the recent past."

"Praise the Tsar!" the man exclaimed. "Someone with a medical background!"

The man ran to one of the cabinets and tossed a doctor's bag at Six. He started pointing at a trio of patients.

"Take these supplies and tend to the patients in that corner over there!"

The man ran off before Six could inquire any further. He looked back at the ladies, the one in black shrugging. Six sighed and walked over to the beds. On the bright side, there were some clipboards with notes attached. Even a semblance of medical records. On the downside, most of it was in Ursus. He spent the next twenty minutes decoding all of it, but he thought he got a decent translation down.

The injuries these fellows suffered from were similar to the people he treated back in Da Vinci. He wouldn't be surprised if the cause were the exact same too. He took out his latest book and propped it on the table, opening up a page showcasing his first patient's race.

The person in question was a fellow called Demyan Sobol. According to his bio, he was an Anaty. Those fellows had elements of pre-war musteloids, right? As far as Six was aware, most of America's population died out in the Great War. The patient's right arm had been shattered during a hunting trip with some friends. Coincidentally, his group was the ones that found and brought Ihor back to the center. He was given anesthesia after that and has been resting since then.

Six snapped his fingers, making sure that the Anaty wasn't awake yet. Perfect. He started by cutting open the arm and inspecting the bone. It had been splintered into several pieces. A glance back at the book revealed the skeletal structure to more or less resemble the average human's. Rearranging them wasn't that hard, he just needed to glue them back together with a stimpak. The contents of the device also closed the wound up for the Courier, negating the need for stitches.

The next patient was an Ursus named Oleksandr Bondarenko; he had his shoulder dislocated. From what the notes he translated told him, he displaced it while hunting. Probably from a scuffle with the local wildlife. The knives in the doctor's bag weren't going to cut it, though. From what he read about their physiology, they were among the most durable of Terra's races. He wouldn't be surprised if his Endurance was in the teens. He drew out Chance's Knife. That might cut it, pun aside.

Carefully Six sliced through skin and muscle to get to the bone. Realigning it was a simple matter. Stitching it back up was more difficult than he anticipated. He was tempted to use another stimpak, but he didn't know if this world had the chemical components needed to produce more. It took a few tries, but he finally found a needle capable of piercing and stitching the big bear back up.

The last patient was Myron Holub. He was a Liberi, judging from all of the feathers. Two things caught his attention. First of all his arms had a higher concentration of feathers than the rest of his body. Second, his hands were practically non-existent. According to his profile, he was hit with a grenade by an Ursus soldier. Guess it's safe to say that the Empire doesn't like scavs.

It took a couple of minutes to carefully remove the shrapnel, but he succeeded. Strangely, he had some shards of black glass on him too. Six saved some of them for further study. If that was what he thinks it is, then he'll need more than stitches. Once he was certain his patient wouldn't bleed out, he looked back at the feline.

"Hey Doc!" he called out.

The catman raised an eyebrow as he turned. "That quick?" he replied with a chuckle. "You really do have experience after all. Can't pay you right now, though. Sorry."

"I've got a couple of questions, actually," Six said as he pointed at the arms.

"Ah, I guess you've never seen Liberi's wings before?"

Six shook his head.

"Huh. Well, some Liberi can grow wings in some manner or another. Some grow them outta back or hips, some turn arms into wings. Some are born with little wings attached to their scalps. Is as natural as breathing to them."

"Looks like they're stuck in limbo, though."

"I imagine that his injuries have something to do with that. He may have reflexively altered them from all the pain. That can happen on occasion. Was that the other question you had in mind?"

"You wouldn't happen to have a book on Oripathy, would you? 'Cus the ones I got don't have any mention of it at all."

"Oripathy? You're not Infected are you?"

"Me? No. Him…"

Six showed him one of the obsidian shards. "Vot der'mo…" he muttered. "This managed to penetrate his skin?"

The man walked over to his bed and wrote something on his board. "Another poor sod afflicted with the world's greed," he said somberly. "I'll add him to the list when I get the chance. We should still have some anti-oripathics in reserve. Thanks for your help, by the way. Wish I could offer payment, but I'm strapped for cash at the moment."

"What about books on Oripathy? 'Cus my guide's got it and that information mi-"

Something clattered in the tent. Several things, actually. The men spun to see the woman in white buried under a medical cabinet. They ran over to her aid, digging her out and helping her onto her feet.

"You alright, devushka?" the man asked. "Nothing broken?"

The girl nodded. "I was looking for some anti-oripathics," she explained softly. "But my legs decided to fall asleep when I opened the door."

The Feline knelt down and lifted the shelf back up, then began replacing and reorganizing its contents. The lady initially leaned against her staff for support, but lost her strength and nearly fell again. Six was quick enough to catch her, though, and propped her against his shoulder.

"This better?" Six asked.

She nodded. "Thank you," she said softly.

She glanced down at his PIPBoy. "You were here this morning, were you not?" she asked.

Six cursed under his breath.

"Why did you change your attire?" she asked.

"Went out hunting," Six claimed. "Needed something in camo."

"What do you mean by 'hunting'? Wildlife or…"

"Primarily wildlife, but we did run into a wanted Raider."

"...I see."

"What did you mean by your body refusing to cooperate? Is it just a loss of strength, or something else?"

"Nerve damage. I inhaled an originium-based toxin and it ravaged the nervous system in my lower extremities. Memories too."

"Damn..."

"What about you? How good is your memory?"

"Why do you ask?"

She pointed at the scars on his forehead. He wanted to slap himself.

"Oh… well, to put it lightly, my brain did a soft reboot after I was patched back up. I can remember everything after walking out of the doctor's office, but before that…"

Hands and feet tied up. Mouth gagged. The taste of iron in his mouth. Three men and a gun barrel were staring down at him. His eyes burned with fury. Then everything ended with a loud 'crack'!

Six snarled "Just the bastards that took everything from me," he said. "Already caught up to them ages ago."

"But it didn't solve anything, did it?"

"..."

"I'm Liz. What's your name?"

"Can't remember. But you can call me 'Theuses'. You're with that woman in black, aren't you?"

She nodded. "That's Shining."

Six snickered. The girl tilted her head.

"That can't be her real name," Six said.

"It's not," Liz confirmed. "But she'd rather not share it with strangers."

I can relate. Six thought to himself. "So what brings you two to town then?"

"To help every Infected soul we can. Most of Terra turns its back on those suffering from Oripathy, so it falls to people like us to reach out."

"And it's just you two?"

Liz nodded. "What about you?"

"Some personal business out east. Just stopping here to rest our legs."

"And your friend?"

Someone made an audible 'ahem' behind them. The two turned to see the Feline with a couple of items on his person. A bottle of medicine, and a book.

"Did you need this, young lady, or one of your patients?" he asked.

The woman pointed at another Ursus on a slab. The man nodded and motioned for them to follow. Six walked the girl over to her patient and watched the man pop a pill into the patient's mouth. The Ursus' smile was all the gratitude they needed. The woman hobbled over to a chair nearby while the Feline handed Six his book.

"Hope this provides a good read," he said.

"Hey, knowledge is power," Six replied. "That's always a good read in my book."

The Feline let out a short laugh. "You take care now, okay?" he said.

Six nodded as the man resumed his work. He tipped an invisible hat to Liz and turned to leave the tent. Just as he got near it, someone gently shoved their way past him. It was that knight. He raised an eyebrow and watched as the horse-mutant walked over to the Sarkaz ladies. She knew them?

Six shook his head and walked out. Lyudmila was leaning against a building not far from his position. ED-E floated beside her, chirping in excitement as its optical sensors picked up its master.

"Did I keep y'all waiting?" Six teased.

Lyudmila shook her head. "You ready for our bet?" she asked.

"Depends on how full your wallet is."

Lyudmila smirked. "If anyone's paying up, it's the gentleman," she taunted.

The trio walked over to the shooting range. Liz poked her head out and watched them vanish into the distance. A blue bird landed on her finger and chirped at her. A nod was all the permission it needed and it flew off after the trio. Someone started shouting back in the tent.

"Liz!" Shining shouted. "I could use a hand with this one!"

"Coming!" Liz shouted back.

She cast one last glance at the Courier before slipping back inside.

---

Date: October 2nd, 1098

Location: Rhodes Island

Time: Around 10 PM

The Control Center. Some call it the beating heart of Rhodes Islands. Others its brain. Regardless of what people call it, its function was clear. This was where some of the biggest discussions were held. Where Rhodes Island's fate was charted on a daily basis. Where strategies are formed. And right now there was a meeting regarding a certain mailman.

Kal'tsit, Closure and Amiya were the ones heading the meeting, naturally. On the other side of the table was Foxfire Squad. Nian would've been present, but radiation poisoning kept her in bed. Seeing as that she was a fragment of a literal god, nobody expected her to stay down for long. Looming over them all was Shirayuki, the shadow and shield of Princess Fumizuki.

Exusiai and Croissant voiced concerns about bringing the ninja into this conversation, but seeing as that Lungmen was her master's turf, Amita felt it was necessary to rope her along. And besides, she's no stranger when it comes to spywork. She probably would've found out anyway.

The ninja eyed the holographic footage of the Courier and his sidekick. She had to admit, she never encountered anyone like them before. It would be interesting to see him and his alien technology in action… were it not for the complications that would follow suit. Her lady already painted a target on her back when she married Wei Yenwu. The idea of their enemies wielding the Courier's arsenal sent shivers down her spine.

Everybody was reviewing footage taken from Da Vinci, along with a couple of audio logs. One from Liskarm, and one from an employee of Penguin Logistics. He uncovered some files within the Courier's Pipboy. Pieces of an audiobook from a so-called Storyteller, regarding his homeland. Much of their content aligned with the raider's testimonies. The information they both provided… disturbed many of the room's occupants, to say the least. Hell, Kal'tsit of all people seemed aghast by the revelations.

"How's Emperor?" Amiya asked Croissant.

"Grouchy," the Forte replied. "From what Texas tells us, he hasn't slept for the past three days. He's got all hands on deck from Siracusa to the Far East. Still no sign of our buddy and his sidekick."

"We've still got a lot of ground to cover," Amiya reminded her. "There aren't many settlements and working radio towers out in the wastes either. Not to mention that Mr. Six already has a history with Penguin Logistics. That's why we need Mr. Yenwu's help."

"But we can't let the Yanese authorities catch wind of this either," Kal'tsit reminded everyone. "The Chief Executive's already kowtowed to them once in the past. Can we really trust him?"

"From what Ms. Shirayuki tells me, Miss. Fumizuki has given him an earful over his plans. As she reportedly pointed out to him, his actions would have painted a target on everyone he loved. Including herself and Ch'en. That would be the last thing he'd want."

Kal'tsit wasn't entirely convinced. "Even if what you said was true, there's still the risk of someone leaking the information to them. Keeping Leize in the dark on this matter is easy. But the LGD? Or the Shadows? All it takes is one loose set of lips and the whole world comes crashing down on us all."

"Mr. Lin has close ties to the Shadows. And Ms. Swire would be on the lookout for spies. The only thing we should worry about is provoking Mr. Six."

Kal'tsit sighed. "Valid points," she relented. "Alright. We'll proceed with your plan. But we need to have at least one squad available encase droppings hit the proverbial fan."

Amiya frowned. "True," she said. "But it will have to consist of those with restraint. Someone like Rosomontis or the Abyssal Hunters would crush Mr. Six."

Exusiai stretched her arms. "We can worry about that tomorrow, can't we?" she yawned. "We've still got a few days before we arrive anyway."

Amiya nodded. "Then this concludes tonight's meeting. Meet back here in the next twelve hours?"

"Sounds good to me. Night everyone."

Everybody dispersed, heading back to their dorms. All except Suzuran of course. She had her eyes fixated on all the recordings playing on the projector. On all of the Courier's activities in the Diavoli Neri's hideout. She watched him slaughter his way through mafia thugs, splice into a console, and cloak himself with some type of wristwatch.

But the most vivid images lurked in the back of her mind. Of how he butchered the local don. She had pegged him as a survivalist given his behavior in Da Vinci, but after learning about his true origins… how he came from a post-apocalyptic world and conquered a remote region of a radioactive Wasteland… she didn't know what to think of him.

This hadn't escaped Amiya of course. She placed a hand on the younger child's shoulder. "You're worried about him," she noted.

Suzuran nodded. "Our world is nothing like his," she said. "He could be out in the wastes dying, or gagged and bound at-"

She stopped herself. All of that fear and anxiety began crumbling under the weight of Amiya's smile.

"He has experience surviving in such lands," she recalled. "He's not going to fall so easily to our world."

"Not even to Oripathy? Or Catastrophes?"

"I doubt it. From what we know about him, he's resourceful. Stubborn. A wasteland, no matter where you look, is harsh and indifferent. You have to have the right mix of cunning and willpower to survive. And believe me when I say that I speak from personal experience."

A slight smile curled up on the Vulpo's lips.

"He'll make it to Lungmen," Amiya assured her. "And when he arrives we'll welcome him with open arms."

"But will he return the gesture?"

Amiya's smile fell slightly. Suzuran gently removed the hand from her shoulder and walked out of the Control Center. The CEO frowned as she locked the door for tonight. Her mind was plagued with many questions as she walked to her room. Why did Six's people ruin their homeworld so many years ago? What kind of madmen would create a virus that would rapidly mutate a living being? Just what kind of hell did their ancestors produce for their descendants?

She muttered a soft prayer under her breath as she ventured back to her room. For the Courier, for the Doctor, for Rhodes Island… and the people of another Wasteland.

---

Date: October 7th, 1098

Location: Grinkhorn, Southern Ursus Border

Time: 8 PM

Nightfall came as it often did; darkness crawling onto the horizon. For some, it was time to sleep. For others, it was the time to hunt. And right now two souls, (well, maybe three if you count the robot), it was the latter.

Lyudmila grumbled on the way to their target. How the hell could she lose to someone that couldn't draw a bow the other day? He claimed to have a little bit of experience beforehand, but still…

She shook her head. They had a job to do. Well, maybe her companion considered this a job. Her? It was a bit personal.

She had heard horror stories of Ingra's atrocities from many Infected. People like him are why Reunion was founded in the first place. She may have joined the militia for personal reasons, but even she considered Ingra to be scum. His karma warrant had just expired. And they were the reaper's shroud.

Six had switched out to his 'Elite Riot Gear' for the change in skylight. No point in wearing camo if the night was already providing it. They had found Ingra's base of operations a couple of hours ago, and have been staking it out since then. Memorizing patrol patterns, trying to eavesdrop on every goon they could. Maybe even pick up on their tactics. But he didn't understand what the locals were saying, as usual. This time it appeared to be… Polish? Poland was part of the European Commonwealth before it collapsed, right?

Most of the 'knights' were seemingly washed-out indies. These either carried a shield, sword or crossbow. There were even some drunken brutes nodding off in whatever shade they could find. Six stifled a laugh as he gazed down at them.

"The Brotherhood would make mincemeat outta those pretenders," he mumbled.

She raised an eyebrow at the Courier's comment. He scratched his neck.

"Brotherhood of Steel," he explained softly."A band of technophiles out west."

"Never heard of them," Lyudmila whispered back.

"Of course you wouldn't. They're xenophobic as hell. You're not gonna find their knights or paladins at the Major or any other social gathering."

The badgeless grunts overall didn't worry them that much. What did were the ones with tarnished banners. Lyudmila recognized the branding on their armor. Many of them were Bloodboil rejects like Ingra, carrying similar attire and weapons. There appeared to be some devices strapped onto them too. Were those heart monitors? Now that they thought about it, most of the grunts had some similar devices on them too.

Lyudmila also noticed some bowmen from the previous Major. Those were the Roar Guard, weren't they? Didn't their champion get poisoned or something? Guess their club disbanded after his death. If she recalled correctly, they carried experimental energy shields. Something told her boy-genius would be dying to study them.

And then there were the Bladehelms. Apparently, their arts could siphon their enemies' strength, and they carried some type of stimulant for emergencies. All that was left were the Gloompincers. Amphibious arachnids of Kazimierz often raised as tools for training knights and the occasional pit fights. Six asked if they carried any toxins in their bodies, but Lyudmila shook her head. Six let out a soft sigh of relief.

"So what's the plan?" she asked.

"Working on it…" Six whispered back.

He personally wasn't worried about the Roar crossbowmen. Just kill 'em before they can activate their shields and if they do just wait for 'em to burn out. Bladehelms on the other hand did. If their Arts really can drain his Strength, wielding heavy weapons would be out of the question. He could probably counter it with Psycho or Buffout, but he didn't want to risk addiction and the subsequent withdrawal effects.

The Bloodboils are probably monitoring their goon's vitals. If they flatline, they'll know something's up. Six conjured up a rough draft of a plan. But before he could lay it out to his partner, ED-E emitted some soft beeps. He was about to ask what the problem was when he heard it himself. Something scuttling in the dark.

Six drew out Sleepytime as he toggled VATS. There, skittering through the dark, were a pack of Gloompincers. Six cursed under his breath as they opened fire on the creatures. One of them pounced on Lyudmila, but she gutted it for its efforts. Unfortunately, ED-E's laser fire was already drawing attention to their current position.

Several of them shouted and pointed in their direction. The heroes scattered, trying to outflank the mercs. Six made sure to leave them a parting gift, though; C4. When enough of them cluttered up at their old spot, he detonated them. Every goon in range was greeted with a faceful of splinters and shrapnel.

Several spotlights came online, startling several drunkards awake. They stormed out of the base in a frenzy, howling at the top of their lungs like the goddamned Fiends. Every enemy unit was scrambling to some position or another now. In short, the whole base was on high alert.

So much for going quiet. Six thought to himself.

"What now, mudak?" Lyudmila radioed.

"Take out the lights," Six radioed back. "You got any throwing knives?"

"Yeah. What about your sidekick? He's not the most discreet sort right now."

"Maybe, but he'll be running circles around those blockheads."

Someone stomped out of a concrete building. It was another member of Bloodboil, though this one was clad in jet-black armor. His eyes were assaying the situation behind mucus-yellow lenses, while his hand held an ebony ax. Said weapon and his armor were both caked in faint brown stains.

He barked something in Kazimierzian, probably 'WTF is going on' if Six were to guess. He drew out Scout's Rifle and gave it a few pumps before firing on every spotlight. Lyudmila dashed through the darkness, cutting down indies. ED-E drew the Gloompuincer's agro towards himself, vaporizing them as they charged. To everyone's surprise, they burrowed under the dirt and scattered.

Six snarled as he switched out his Riot Shotgun, ripping through their exoskeletons. Some Bloodboils closed in on his position, glowing with a faint blood-red. They moved fast, faster than any Raider with that much armor back on Earth. Six barely had time to prime a grenade before he sidestepped and ducked under a couple of swings.

The shrapnel hardly scratched their armor. Plasma and lasers, on the other hand, did. ED-E cooked a couple of them alive while Six melted through another pair's suits. All of them died screaming.

Several bolts flew past the Courier. A couple of them hit his armor, but thankfully neither penetrated it. They did throw off his poise, however, allowing a Bladehelm to take a sweep at him. Six grunted as he was knocked into a tree stump, rolling just in time to avoid being impaled by the mutant's spear.

As the figure rose back onto their feet, they waved their spear around like a wand. A purple glow fell upon the Courier, followed by an invisible weight. His limbs felt heavier and his carry weight was halved. Thankfully it wasn't enough to encumber Six, but it did make it more difficult to wield his weapons. Especially his shotgun.

He initially fell back onto his Plasma Defender but found that the green blobs of superheated goop were ineffective against the Bladehelm Trainee. A Light Shining in Darkness- plus armor-piercing rounds- proved to be much more effective. He managed to cripple his sword arm and leg and was ready to execute him while he was on his knee.

But then an orange light enveloped the mutant. Six shielded his eyes as he backed away. Suddenly his HUD was picking up a surge in the Helm's Health Points. To the Courier's shock, he rose back onto his feet and hoisted his spear in the air. Six toggled VATS as the bastard let out a roar and noticed that all of his limbs had been healed.

"Oh come on," Six groaned.

The knight kept his distance, stabbing and swinging away with his spear. That suited Six just fine. He tossed a Plasma Grenade at the brute and watched as the green goop seeped through the openings in his armor. His screams were cut short as he was boiled alive. Six let himself take a deep breath as the invisible weight faded.

Then one of those drunken assholes grabbed and threw him into the camp. The good news was that all of the lights had already been shot out. Red Scare kicked in and painted the world in a crimson light. The bad news was that several more of his kin were charging at him. Six left a landmine behind as he rolled away from their combined might. It detonated as their blades came crashing down on it.

At least two of them lost their hands in the explosion. The rest just shrugged it off. That changed when ED-E opened fire on them with his Tesla cannon. Six threw in some bolts from his Plasma Defender. That put them down.

There was a savage battle cry closing in on them. Six turned just in time to roll under the swing of an ax. It was hard to make out in the dark, but he could see a hulking shape with glowing yellow lenses. It was Ingra, and he was screeching something at the top of his lungs.

"Could you repeat that?" Six taunted. "I seemed to have skipped Polish class."

The man's head snapped toward his direction, but he had already moved to another position.

"The hell is Polish?!" he asked with an obvious accent.

"You just answered your own question," Six shouted back from the shadows.

Ingra pounced towards his position but once again Six was on the move.

"SHOW YOURSELF!" he bellowed.

He had to admit, this asshole was pretty quick for someone his size. He'd give Lily a run for her money. It'd be wise to Cripple him first before he gets another chance. Six toggled VATS and targeted one of his legs. The bastard howled as he collapsed onto the earth. Six smirked.

ED-E was flung past his head, missing it by an inch. Six turned around to find himself face-to-face with a Wanderer. The asshole slashed across his chest plate, disrupting his poise and opening him up for a follow-up attack. Six was thrown to the ground with his back toward the sky. There was a slashing sound and-

Nothing. Nothing penetrated his armor. He rolled over and looked up to see a knife in the mutant's neck. Lyudmila stepped aside as his corpse flopped backward. Six took her hand and allowed her to raise him back up. A nod was all the thanks he could afford to lend out right now.

Some indies tried to get the leap on them, but they were quick enough to evade their blows. Lyudmila managed to counter one of their moves by embedding her blade into a gap in their leg's armor. A headbutt knocked them down, allowing her to stab them through the eye with a discarded arrow. They dropped dead.

One of Six's assailants got a chest cavity full of plasma. The other got both knee-caps and his cranium blown to bits with shotgun shells. One more tried to hack him up, but Six parried his Uberhau with his Riot longarm. His head went flying off shortly afterward.

Someone rammed into Six while he was reloading, dragging him across the earth. It was Ingra. Somehow he was flying across the battlefield. From what little Six could make out, there was a flash underneath his boots. Jets maybe? They crashed through some crates, freeing him from his iron grip. But he didn't come out of that unscratched. Six snarled as his shoulders flared up. He tried firing his pistol at the mutant, but he dodged each bullet with ease.

He knocked the weapon aside and began slamming him against an old APC (probably this world's version of the MT-LB). Six's ribs and skull buckled with each collision. Six drew out Chance's Knife and went for his captor's fingers, but he caught his arm before he could sever them. For his effort, he Crippled it.

Six gritted his teeth as he suppressed a scream. Ingra then threw him to the ground and stomped his boot on his back. He reached down and crushed the bone in his leg as payback, but Six denied him the pleasure of screaming once again. The Courier drew out his MF Hyperbreeder Alpha with his other hand, but the mutant yanked and threw it over his shoulder.

He slammed the Courier's face into the mud, kneeling down as he hovered his ax over the Courier's neck. Six clawed at the bastard's fingers, but he couldn't ease his grip on him. He called out for ED-E or Lyudmila, but neither seemed to hear him. Was this how it all ended?

Ingra was about to swing it down when something collided with his armor. Both turned their heads to see Lyudmila firing A Light Shining in Darkness at the brute. From her pained expression and drooping ears, she was struggling to block out the weapon's noise. She kept firing until the magazine ran dry. She glanced down at the weapon in confusion.

Ingra tossed Six aside and rocketed towards the Lupo while she fiddled with the small arm. She noticed him just in time to adjust her density, causing him to fly through her and into one of the concrete buildings. He tore through the wall and was buried under rubble for his efforts.

While the bastard was seeing stars, Six reclaimed his Recharger Pistol and Graham's legacy. He offered a curt 'thanks' to the girl as he reloaded his firearm with P rounds. He brought up VATS again, this time aiming for his remaining limbs. The man howled as his appendages were stuffed with bullets. He tried to rocket toward the heroes again, but in his condition, he ended up crashing into and flipped the truck over.

Six injected some Hydra into himself as he limped over to the crash site. He glanced down to see Ingra pinned under the rusted old vehicle, helmet ruined. From what little he could tell, he appeared to be one of those horse-mutants. Six had A Light Shining In Darkness aimed at his exposed cranium, staring down into his eyes. He could sense the anger- hatred- behind his broken lens.

ED-E and Lyudmila ran over to the Courier.

"Status," Six said to ED-E.

The eyebot gave him some expository beeps.

"Any other survivors?" Six asked Lyudmila.

She shook her head. "No prisoners, either," she added. "If there were any, they've probably been auctioned off by now."

Six snarled."Search the area," he said. "See if you can dig up anything. Maps, documents, audio logs. I'm gonna have a little chat with Mr. Chariot here. ED-E, be ready to vaporize him if he tries anything funny."

ED-E emitted some acknowledging beeps. Lyudmila passed glances between them and the Kuranta before walking off. Six walked over behind the brute and removed his boots. Can't have him flying off again. He set them aside as he returned to face Ingra. Six got onto a knee, switching out his .45 pistol for the Plasma Defender.

"So… Ingra, ain't it?," Six asked.

The Kutanta just grunted.

"Is that a yes or a no?"

"Yes…"

Six smirked at the hiss. "Alright then. My friend says you're some big hotshot from Kazimierz. What's a guy like you doing so far away from home?"

"Work."

"Such as?"

"Recruitment."

"The willing kind?"

The man let out a short laugh.

"Slavery then."

"I prefer 'indentured servitude'."

Six scowled behind his gas mask. He aimed his Plasma Defender at one of Ingra's hands and melted it. The man screamed as green sludge ate away at his fist. When he stopped writhing in pain, he shot daggers at the Courier.

"Where are you sending them?"

"Why should I tell you?" he snarled.

"[Barter 50] Because there's a bounty on your head, dumbass. And I'm willing to bet that the Ursus would pay handsomely for the man abducting their citizens. Your buddies, though? There's no record on them. No bounties. They technically get to get off scot-free "

Sx let the words linger in the air for a bit continuing. "Are you really gonna let your pals waltz away from this? Wouldn't you like to take them down with you?"

The man burst into laughter. "Citizens? They don't give a damn about the Infected. Let alone any scavengers out in the wilds. They aren't gonna come rescue their rocky asses. And even if they cared, so what if my buddies getaway? As long as I get to contribute to more of those Infected bastards' suffering, then I'll die a happy man!"

Six's brows furrowed for a moment. Then an idea clicked in his head. First, he unstrapped the gauntlet that once shielded his ruined hand and tore off the sleeve. Then he drew out a vial of blood from his pocket. Blood with black particles in it.

"The hell is that supposed to be?"

"A blood sample from my partner," he said with a smirk. "She's Infected."

"What? You rub elbows with Infected? Are you crazy or stupid!?"

"I'm a Wastelander, pal. Living dangerously is a bit of a requirement back home. We're not afraid of some magic rock cancer like you 'civilized folk'. Hell, I never even heard of Oripathy until recently. I'm kinda curious as to what the first stage looks like."

He took out an empty needle and drew out some of the blackened fluid, giving the former a couple of good taps for dramatic measure. He could see the fear in Ingra's eyes.

"You wouldn't…"

"I'm a bit of a mad scientist these days. Of course, I'm serious. I'm genuinely curious as to why people like you enjoy torturing biohazards of your own design. Why you moths fly so close to the flame. Perhaps a small donation will provide me with some answers?"

The man locked up. Six knelt down and grabbed his scorched arm, slowly bringing the needle over…

"OKAY OKAY! I'LL TALK! I'LL TALK!" Ingra pleaded. "Just don't turn me into one of those damn rockheads!"

"Then speak quickly," Six instructed him. "Where are you sending them?"

"To some old mansion nearby. There's an old Leithanien fogey conducting experiments there. He pays us for test subjects. Double for Infected ones."

"Where can I find it?"

"West. Straight path from here. He likes to run a fog machine at this time of night. If you start seeing mists, you're already there."

"What about security? What kinda opposition should I expect?"

"Besides mercs and fellow Casters? Saw this colossus once. Think it's modeled after Sarkaz witchcraft. But that's all I know."

Six emptied Lyudmila's blood back into its container and discarded the needle. The man let out a sigh of relief. Six added Ingra's jet boots into his inventory and took out his Ripper.

"You… you are gonna get me out from under here, right?"

"In a manner of speaking."

Six revved up his miniature chainsaw and brought it down on his neck. Whatever screams escaped from his lips were short-lived. Six then tore off some of his clothing and wrapped the shreds around his severed head. Six and ED-E walked around and found Lyudmila holding a scroll in her hands.

"Find anything?" Six called out.

She turned to face him. "Think so," she replied. "Take a look at this."

She handed the roll of paper to him. It was a rough map of the boreal forest. The layout had more or less matched up with what they had seen for the past few hours; Grinkhorn, Rouilleton, the river, and Needlefly hive. But the thing that caught his eye was something to the west labeled 'Biovin Manor'. There was an exclamation point beside the name, its dot replaced with a skull.

"Did you get anything out of that bastard?" she asked.

"Yeah," Six confirmed. "They're selling folk to some wizard in an old mansion out west. Probably the Manor mentioned here."

"And what about Ingra himself? Are we taking him alive or…?"

"Cold. Got his ugly mug in a bag. Ready to head out?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Let's go."

The trio marched out of the ruins and towards the western woodlands. They crept through the dark, careful not to alert any potential patrol or predator to their presence. The first few minutes were agonizingly slow and rather mundane. Nothing but the howls of wolves or birds chirping.

Then a fog surrounded and enveloped them. Six passed a look at Lyudmila. She shook her head. This wasn't her handiwork. Six tried to toggle VATS, but he couldn't get the program to run. ED-E emitted some agitated beeps.

Then things started to get creepy. Six's motion tracker picked up movement. He could hear the crunch of twigs and something scampering about. Then his ears picked up… music?

There was a tall shape up ahead. No, two shapes. One was thin and tall, another was small and round. The latter appeared to be riding on top of the former. He could hear a chime or bell in the distance, like one of those pre-war bicycles. More music began to play. A guitar, an accordion, a piano, even a choir.

Something compelled Lyudmila to talk about the noise.

"Mila?" Six asked. Where are you going?"

She didn't seem to hear him. Instead, she shambled towards the mist. Six and ED-E ran after her, trying not to lose her. The music grew louder with each step they took. He could feel something trying to worm its way into the back of his skull. Something… enchanting.

Come and see… beckoned a voice.

Six shook it off. But his head was pounding like hell, though. There was an annoying buzz in his ears now too. White noise. The gray mists withdrew from sight like a curtain, and the trio beheld a spectacle.

There, amidst a dead garden, was a manor. Five stories tall, crumbling away. Six had never seen mansions back in the wasteland. He never heard of any existing before the Great War. And even if he did, they'd probably have collapsed long ago. But not this one. This one continued to stand proud, defying time and mother nature.

And up ahead was the culprit. A small child on a circus bike, one resembling something from the 1800s. They were dressed in blue garbs and a white mask. They were playing the accordion. But something about them seemed… off. Their movements were stiff.

Before Six could react, ED-E opened fire on the child. The bike melted before the Courier's eyes, the little one torching up from the sheer heat.

"ED-E!" Six called out. "What the fu-"

He stopped as he took a closer look at the torched remains of 'child'. There were wires and gears sticking out of their body. He could smell burnt wood and smelted copper, with hints of iron. He also noticed a massive backpack with a windup key attached to it.

This wasn't a kid. It was a mechanical marionette. A robot.

Lyudmila shook her head and looked around in bewilderment. "Wh-Chto za chert!? What's going on?"

"You alright?" Six asked.

"I- I don't know," she confessed. "I remember walking in the woods, and then…"

"The music?"

She nodded curtly. She glanced past something behind Six and froze up. Six was about to ask what was wrong when his tracker picked up movement again. He heard something crumbling behind him as he turned around…

…and was pushed over by Lyudmila.

"Look out!" she shouted as she pounced.

Both of them rolled across the brown grass as something slammed into their previous position. When they rose back onto their feet, they were in for a shock. There, standing before them, was a massive golem with purple veins. Lyudmila was taken aback by the sight.

"That's…" she said in disbelief. "That's one of- that's impossible…"

"Mila?"

Lyudmila cupped her hands around her mouth. "Mudrock!" she shouted into the fog. "What the hell is the meaning of this!?"

Six's eyebrows arched up some. Mudrock? Where had he heard that name bef-

Several shadows surrounded them. Rather than attack, they started singing. Some of the lyrics - or rather the language they were in- seemed familiar to the Courier. It sounded like French.

Then black bolts rained down on them. They tried to dodge every blast, but there were too many. Six and Lyudmila found themselves sapped of their strength, collapsing into exhausted heaps. ED-E, by contrast, seemed immune to the side effects and was speedy enough to retaliate. But a flying boulder caught him off guard and sent him flying out of the garden.

"ED-E!" Six shouted.

[Strength 1/5] The Courier crawled after him, but he didn't get too far. Not when a boot stomped on his back. Someone unfastened his helmet's straps and removed it from him. He tried to roll over and reclaim it, but he was too weak. Those Arts siphoned out most of his Strength.

Someone threw a canister into the garden. It spewed out gas as it cracked open. Both humans tried to hold their breaths, but it was futile. Their lungs screamed for fresh air and they were forced to oblique.

[Old World Gourmet, Chem Resistant] Lyudmila was the first to pass out. He watched as someone in scarlet hoisted her over their shoulder and walked off towards the Manor. Six struggled to draw out a weapon, but he was able to get his Plasma Defender out. Unfortunately, his captor saw this and swiftly ripped the weapon from his hands. For his effort, he received a faceful of Arts.

Darkness swirled around his vision as his senses went numb. He heard something chirping to his left. A couple of scarlet figures were firing at something small. Something blue. A bird maybe? Whatever it was, it managed to escape into the mists. In the same direction as ED-E.

ED-E… Six thought.

He reached out for his friend one last time. Then he too lost conciseness.

---

A/N:

Well. That took longer than I anticipated. Sorry about that folks. Finally got hit by a certain New Plague, but don't worry. SCIENCE prevailed in the end. Though admirably, that was only part of the reason for the delay. The rest was writer's block and a hint of perfectionism. I'm still not entirely happy with this chapter, but I've delayed it long enough. Maybe I'll edit and update it later, but for now, it's best to get it out of the oven before it gets burnt any further.

So first a bit of news. For those of you that don't know, I imported this story onto Archive of Our Own while I was down with the sickness. If you like that site's format, you can follow the story there too.

So on the main hero's side of things, the meatbags have gotten some new additions to their wardrobes. Six's is based on the Fallout 4 Stalker outfit-mod by nevermind43. while Crownslayer's draws more from sportswear like Adidas. Probably not the most durable of attires, but good enough for blending in.

Some of you might also be wondering about the alias he chose. Well… it's kinda twofold. Theseus's most infamous opponent is the Minotaur. Vela means 'sail', like a ship. Put those two together and… well, personally I think that the other meaning can apply to RPG characters. Maybe even RPGs in general. But hey. I just like meaningful names.

And then there are the Followers. I'll admit several ideas swirled around in my head regarding them. There was a scene of Nearl giving out the lecture but I cut that out since CS already gave Six one. He would've gotten his ass handed to him. We'll be seeing her in the near(l) future, don't worry. And we'll be seeing more interactions between him and Nightingale too.

And three of Rhodes Island's pillars are aware of the truth now. I've alluded to the Wasteland Codex mod (or at least a Western Coast variation of it) all the way back in Chapter 2. That was gonna crop up again down the line. I was gonna save Six's SPECIAL specs for after he got into Great Lungmen, but seeing that Closure's a master hacker, I figured that she'd uncover that data sooner rather than later.

And yes, Six's Skills are all 100. It's possible to max 'em out with enough Intelligence and planning. Then again, skill and experience are two different things. And seeing as how they stagnated while he was running New Vegas, coupled with being thrown into an alien environment, he's got some catching up and adapting to do.

Next chapter is gonna focus on the Followers and our heroes. Six and Crownslayer face some ghosts from the past, while ED-E makes a daring rescue. What happens when three traveling medics throw themselves into the mix… we'll find out next chapter. Tune in next time for-

Oh dammit. Too many ideas for the title for me to pick. Integrating Strategies (nah, too on the nose)? Theater of Illusion? It's Dark as a Dungeon? Portal to the Past? Midnight in a Madhouse? Mr. Sandman? Hail the Nightmare? Ghost Riders? What do y'all think?