This is based off of a few mods for Fallout New Vegas. One of them is the Tale of Two Wastelands mod which ports Fallout 3 into New Vegas where the two stories are referenced. Basically, It's where the Courier and the Lone Wanderer are the same character. Also, major spoilers for the entire Bioshock franchise, Fallout 3, and New Vegas. Knowledge of these worlds is not fully required, but recommended and some creative liberties are taken as how this story will end is heavily influenced by Bioshock characters.
Cosplay Photo by oOMeroChanOo.
Finally, this is the first time I am writing a story so any feedback is greatly appreciated and I am looking for artwork for this story. If anyone is interested in creating it, feel free to message me.
Chapter 1, An Unexpected Delivery
November 3, 2281
"Evan, could you pass me that wrench?"
"Huh," I replied.
My Dad chuckled, "Are you dozing off again?"
"Yeah, I'm just thinking about some things, that's all."
"Well, try not to think now, we have to get the last adjustment on the machine and I need that wrench to tighten up these screws."
I nodded, and walked over to the toolbox and grabbed the wrench sticking out. Once I had it in my hands, I walked back over and handed it to him.
He took it out of my hands,"Thank you. Before you know it, this machine will be up and running."
"For Project Purity right," I asked.
"Of course. Bringing clean water to D.C. and the Brotherhood will help bring the world one step closer back to how it was before the bombs dropped. "
"Would it be possible? After all this time?"
"Yes, I'm sure about it," he answered.
After a few minutes, I heard my dad set the wrench down.
"There," he states, standing up," That part is done, now we just need to get the rest of the facility fixed up and we can begin again on the project."
"Yeah," I replied.
"What's wrong son," he asked, approaching me, "Your voice sounds like something is bothering you."
I looked at the ground and then looked back up, "Can't it just wait for a bit. Like can we take a moment together."
"Did you want to talk about something?"
I paused for a moment, "Well yes. About so many things."
"Very well. Start with what's on your mind the most right now," he replies.
"I…are you proud of me? That I left the vault to find you?"
He put his hands on my shoulders, "Of course Evan. I could never be more proud of you. The lengths you went to find me, against all odds and while being afraid of what the wasteland could bring, only showed me just how far you have come as a person."
I smiled, grabbing his hands on my shoulder.
He continued, "Son, you're special. You were born to do great things in this world and I no doubt believe you will change it for the better no matter how small it is."
I looked down, at my feet," Thank you dad. I wish you were really here."
When I looked back up, he was gone and then my surroundings started to disappear and I was met with a familiar voice.
"Howdy folks, it's Mr. New Vegas, and I have a good feeling about all of you I'm gonna play a song for you right now. It's about that special someone you only find once... in a Blue Moon."
Upon hearing the voice from my radio, I opened my eyes and as I heard "Blue Moon" playing on my radio, it was time for me to get up. It was 8:04 a.m., and usually I don't like sleeping in but I was up so late last night, I couldn't help myself. I had some business that led late into the night to around 2 a.m. And the dream I had was at least a pleasant dream with my dad. Most of the time, it isn't. It may be four years since he died, but I still think about him a good chunk of the time. I've tried to move on, even come all the way out here instead of staying in D.C. But the past keeps following me.
I pulled myself out of bed, rubbed my eyes, and eventually got up. I went into the bathroom and saw my familiar, brown eyes, brown hair, face staring back at me. I turned the faucet on and washed my face. Once that was done, I put on a shirt, my Mark Two armor, tied my boots, and grabbed my backpack. My backpack is the same one I've had since D.C. and it's just your stereotypical, brown survival bag to hold a water bottle and a good amount of items. Slinging it on my back, I made my way to the elevator when I was greeted by Victor, the Securitron Robot that always sticks around my room.
"Mornin, pardner, I got something for you I found in your mailbox." He remarked in a cheery voice as he handed me a decently sized box.
On some level, his voice always sounds so creepy, especially given the world we live in. Doesn't feel like it fits in all that well. Not to mention, he has that Cowboy face with a static smile on a screen in the middle of his body everytime I see him and that big bulky exterior he has with metal arms that gives off a threatening feeling sometimes. It also really makes it hard to trust him, even if he did save my life after I got shot in the head. Even his creator, Mr. House, after my first meeting with him, I don't trust even. This platinum chip of his sounds so mysterious and I don't know his true intentions with it. And he won't answer anything until I get it back to him. So, I've been cautiously thinking about what to do next after meeting him a few days ago, but time will tell what I decide to do next.
"Thanks, you know who left it?" I questioned.
Victor answered, "No idea, sorry pardner. Mr. House says it was just two people that looked like they were in a hurry."
I examined the box. It was fairly sized, made of wood that looked decently carved and as I unhooked the latch that held the top to the box and opened it, I was greeted with a letter and I immediately started to read it.
Dear Courier,
This key unlocks one room in the old abandoned Freeside Hotel. We think you will be able to find something of interest there.
Good Luck.
P.S.
Have you heard about the pre war high speed underground? Some people say that it is still operational.
I examined the rest of the box and found the key to unlock the room. It read 212 as I flipped the key over in my hand. I'm unsure as to what this all could lead to as there is not much information about it. Not to mention there is no name or return address of whoever put this in my box so I couldn't track down who they were. Regardless, I put everything away and walked into the elevator. I pushed the button to take me down to the Casino in order to make my way to that Freeside Hotel. I saw it before but I vaguely remember it
Regardless, I heard the elevator chime ding, letting me know I had arrived at the casino floor. As the doors opened, I was greeted with the familiar area of the Casino. It looked almost brand new, but no one ever uses it since no one is permitted access to the Lucky 38. I'm the only one who has all this time and it's shocked everyone across the Mojave. So, the place just has the sounds of slot machines, surrounding the casino floor, still hungry for patrons to deposit their money in. I continued to the door, pushed them open, and was greeted by the sights of the Strip and the cool air of the New Vegas morning. It may not seem like much right now, but wait till its night on a Friday. Everyone is running around, trying to either gamble their caps or go to the strip clubs for "quality" time alone. But right now, the Strip has just average people getting to where they need to go. From the NCR running to their post to not be late to people just making their way to wherever they need to go. Regardless, it helped give energy to the area despite how deserted the casino's were really in the morning. I resumed and made my way to the gate that took me outside of the strip. As I opened the door, an NCR officer bumped into me, making me turn around.
"Excuse me, I'm in a rush," he exclaimed.
I got a good look at him. Blonde hair and green eyes, with his face showing a young look of panic, like this was his first day and he couldn't afford to screw it up.
I opened the door and let him go through first, and then I continued. As I walked down the street, I saw a couple saying goodbye to each other. They first held each other's hands, said their goodbyes, and then kissed each other on the lips before going their separate ways. Made me wince a bit, but I shook my head and pressed on. At the end of Freeside, I saw the worn down door of an old train car that would lead me into another part of Freeside. But I wouldn't be going that far. The hotel isn't too far from where I am at.
Freeside isn't really the best place to be going without protection. Run down town with assholes looking to rob you for something as simple as your shoes. You gotta look tough, like someone you don't want to screw with just to get around. Thankfully, my service rifle and 44 magnum have something to say as well as my mark two armor. I've done my best to stay out of factions in my time in the Mojave. I don't trust any one of them given not only what I have seen during my last two or so years I have been here, but what I have experienced before. They all have their own agenda. Based on my own beliefs, I've been more aligned with the New California Republic given their prospect of wanting to return to democracy where people can have freedom to choose who they want in power. However, they are so spread out, it's hard to see if they are making any progress in reintroducing democracy into the Mojave. Regardless, I still try to stay out of their politics. They remind me of factions I saw in D.C, and feel almost identical in some ways. So, that wasn't helping much either.
I continued my trek and I saw two guns for hire chasing a group of Fiend members into an abandoned building. The Fiend member was wearing a helmet made out of an animal skull and had tattered pieces of armor on them, but nothing truly connected together. The guns for hires, clothes were far more connected and were your standard leather armor with shoulder pads to complement them. No surprise there of people chasing each other. Sure it surprised me the first time I saw it a while ago, but seeing it multiple times, it's become common here. Nevertheless, I moved forward and eventually saw the destroyed sign of the Hotel. As with most places, it's got the looks of a shithole alright. Most buildings look like that nowadays, but you can blame the nuclear war from 200 years ago for that. But, this one looks like it's crumbling inside and out with some of the ceiling collapsed in. I pushed the door open and as I entered the main hall everything looked fine, but as I went down and looked to my left, it's clear the true extent of the damage. I saw the ceiling had collapsed into a doorway, preventing it from ever being accessible and there were countless turned over chairs and dirty, worn down mattresses laid out.
"Hope Room 212 hasn't collapsed in itself, " I said to myself. Using my Pipboy's light, I navigated my way to the second floor. A cold, eerie feeling settled in me as I walked around as not only was this place abandoned long ago, but it was recently used in some areas with some used Chems that looked recently used. It could have been smugglers or deals gone wrong or really anything these days. I make myself up to the second floor towards Room 212. I grab the key out of my pocket and unlock the door. As I enter, there is a sink to my left and to my right at the end of the room is a desk with a terminal on it. I approached the terminal and accessed the personal files. It was just a long list of documents so to make it easier, I emailed them to my Pipboy.
I receive an audio log and files of scan data from an old underwater city with coordinates to its exact location. Not only that, there was a digitally scanned painting of a man and a woman dancing with each other that looked like they were slow dancing. I could not make out the other man's face but the woman was clear. She was a brunette with blue eyes, caucasian, had red lipstick, and wore an outfit I had never seen before. It was a white shirt that had a blue color with a red ribbon tied underneath and blue cuffs at the end of the shirt. On the red ribbon in the middle was a pendant with a bird on it.
I will admit, she is very beautiful. Probably the most beautiful woman I've seen in a long time. Kinda reminds me of those old photographs of people showing off outfits from back then without them being explicit. Never really found explicit outfits all appealing long term. Just felt they were some nice eye candy for a moment. But something does stick out to me about the painting. There is something with the look the woman is giving in it. She looks distraught and miserable. So it makes me wonder, Is she being forced to dance? Or is it something else on her mind?
I turned on the audio log and I started to hear the crack of the audio log come through the speakers of my Pipboy accompanied by some old,retro music from a bygone era.
Previously, on Fact from Myth. We discussed the fabled underwater cut of Rapture. Thought to be mere fantasy, until a steamer trunk of artifacts washed up on the New England cost. But, despite the findings, no living person has ever been connected with a lost city. That is, until now. Acting on a tip from an anonymous source, we tracked down a woman from upstate New York who allegedly grew up in Rapture. We showed her the objects in the hope that she could provide some clarity on their origins and significance. That is when she had thrown aside one of the pictures. Of all the pictures, what was it about this painting in particular that provoked such a strong reaction? Who are these people? And what was their connection to the woman in upstate New York. Many questions remain as we attempt to uncover Fact from Myth.
Well, that was interesting. And inspecting the log, it said it was from 1983, which is 300 years ago. So, no doubt that whoever this woman was has been long dead. Which means Rapture had to roughly exist around that time as well. But then again, this really raises more questions than answers to me. If this place exists, what could be there? Weapons from long before the bombs dropped that could be incredibly valuable today? Or research that can change how we live? Or maybe even some really supernatural space alien technology like in those films I used to watch when I was a kid.
All of these questions would have to wait as if I was going to travel to this supposed place, I was going to need to find a High-Speed underground. Then it occurred to me that I would need to head East to an old train station as that was where a High-Speed underground train existed. As I leave the Freeside Hotel, a group of raiders approach me wearing clothes similar to the Van one in the middle seemed to be the leader given his clothes looked nicer then the two next to him. He was at least a few inches shorter than me despite his "well kept" look. But that ain't saying much these days, he still looks like a dirty piece of shit.
"What were you doing there," he demanded.
"I was following a lead for something."
"What for," he demanded again.
"Nothing that concerns you."
"It does concern me if you were screwing around with something in there. We have business ventures that only concern the Van Graff gang."
"Look I dont give a shit what you do in there, all I was doing was checking a room I had a key to and that's it. I didn't touch anything else." I replied, giving him a cold look.
"If you touched anything that had to do with our business, we will find you and show you what happens when you fuck with the Van Graff." he refuted, trying to stand taller than me.
"Well good luck to your business then. Me, I'm going back to mine. Have a nice day." I responded, sarcastically and walked away.
I got on the road, turned on my radio to the Radio New Vegas station and started my walk there. Even though it was November, patrolling the Mojave was no joke. The heat really makes the trip to wherever you go feel far longer than it actually feels. The saying I always hear the NCR soldiers say about "Patrolling the Mojave really makes you wish you had a nuclear winter" really has some merit to it. If I take my armor off, sure I can feel a bit cooler. However, you have so much wildlife to deal with. From regular coyotes, mole rats, to other radiated creatures, life ain't really easy in the Mojave. Radscorpions can easily poison you without proper protection and a bitch to kill given the radiation hardening the strength around their skin and their size making them four times their original. Then you get radiated geckos where again, they quadruple their original size thanks to radiation and can strike at you like a pack ready to rip you apart. But the worst of them all is Deathclaws. I have encountered one before with help back in D.C, but it took an army to take it down. Near Sloan they have become a problem with so many congregating in one place for some reason. Their Tough skin, huge size, and claws made to tear through anything besides power armor makes them a force to be reckoned with. So, looking at my choices, of either sweating my ass off in the armor and being safe or taking it off and being cool, but risking being killed easier, I'll pick the first option.
Few hours later, I arrived at the underground entrance. I opened the door and was met with a small hallway with a shelf on the left side with junk. I kept going further and saw the large, expanding tunnel of the underground. Upon looking closer, I can easily tell this place looked semi lived in with old mattresses everywhere and old campfire placements. However, I could hear subtle beeping that indicated there were mines everywhere. I watched where I walked, carefully moving my feet around the mines as the last thing I needed was to blow myself up in a tunnel that could easily collapse. Suddenly, I hear a loud screech down the tunnel. I recognized that noise anywhere. Feral Ghouls. These things were human once, but long exposure to radiation turned them into the freaks they are today and any sense of humanity or knowledge was lost due to that. I saw a group of them running towards me and I pulled out my service rifle and picked them one at a time off. The echo of the tunnel only amplified the noise of the rifle and I was afraid this would only attract more of them. I was able to get it down to two and immediately switch to my .44 magnum and put the rest of them down swiftly. Thing is, a good half of them must have landed on the mines, but as long as I do not move their bodies, the mines won't go off and I can atleast get around them. Going back to carefully moving my feet around the bodies trying to not even brush them, I was able to make it to a point where I saw the path was blocked off by debris but I could make a left into a maintenance section of the tunnel.
This path brought me down further to the underground station and I could feel the air getting much more musty and cooler. Eventually, I reached the old high-speed train and I immediately questioned the sturdiness of this train. Multiple windows were broken, seats looked so rotten I would not be surprised if plants and wildlife lived in only truly secure place to sit without the wind blowing really hard by you from the high speed of the train, was the front part with all the controls. I sat down, closing the door behind me and securing it before typing in the coordinates to where I needed to go on the East Coast. The train let out a loud initial screech like the sound of the gears and wheels of the train moving for the first time in years as it took off at high speed. While I waited, I took another look at the painting and the additional files I had received. I saw a letter that was addressed to a Dr. Greggson and started reading:
Dr. Greggson!
A major breakthrough was made in the underwater city project you've been working on. Seems like you were right all along. Our submarine has located the huge underwater structures while patrolling the Northern Atlantic regions near the coordinates you provided us with. The preliminary scans indicate that some of the structures are intact and contain air. The exact geolocation data and scan results are attached to this letter.
Considering the importance of possible recovery of any lost technologies, we will organize an expedition to the city.
You are to arrive at Base 154, Washington, D.C. immediately. You will be provided with further instructions upon arrival.
Looks like it's back to D.C. Haven't been there since I left and honestly, I'm not looking forward to it. I still feel memories are fresh inside of me of my time there that I still don't want to revisit even if it's been years. Noneless, this letter proves Rapture exists even if the letter is from four years ago. And the mention of lost technology being there really makes me further wonder what else could be there. However, there is something else on my mind. What happened to these scientists and why have we not heard anything from this since their expedition? I guess I will find out when I get there. As I was looking out the window watching the scenery start to pass by, I felt my mind starting to wander, and I was soon met with familiar flashes of my life.
