Leaving Tenpines, Mason guided them down the side of the cliff, preferring to take a shorter route while also not breaking any bones. Had he tried to climb down the cliff to the west of Tenpines, he likely would've broken a leg. Following the tracks, they ran into boxcars, Mason ignoring most of them. As they walked past, Mason had to stop, seeing something out of the corner of his eye. Climbing onto a trailer, Mason peered into a cage, seeing a suit of Power Armor.

"Hey Heather," Mason called, looking for a way to open the gate.

"Yeah."

"Got a suit of Power Armor. Won't… I won't be able to fit into it, you will," Mason told her, catching himself from saying either of them wouldn't fit. "Imma hand you my partially used fusion core for it."

"On it."

As she climbed up, Mason looked at her.

As she looked up at him, Mason spoke. "Your smile is beautiful."

Jumping off the trailer before Heather said anything, Mason followed the wire connected to the cage, finding it attached to a terminal. After hacking into the terminal, Mason unlocked the gate, hearing Heather get into the armor. Taking the helmet of the armor off, Heather put it into a bag Curie had strapped to her. Standing in front of Mason, Heather smiled.

"So this is what

"So this is what it's like being your height," Heather commented, causing Mason to grab his helmet.

"I did not ask for this height," Mason responded as he put the helmet on. "I suppose I was lucky. Sister, not so much."

"It's alright. It makes you look better."

Having no idea how to respond to that, Mason began walking. He'd always seen himself as average, preferring words over appearance. It was odd how his brother was able to sleep around.

"" Let's keep going north," Mason said, Overseer's in his hands. "I see an outline on the mountain ahead and a partially caved-in house."

"It's a shack," Heather responded, referring to the outline. Finding two Radstag bodies by the house, Mason collected the meat off them since they hadn't begun rotting. However, it was apparent someone used them for target practice, annoying Mason. At least when he killed merde, he used all the materials he got. And when he killed people, he took their weapons and armor. Mason began to head up the mountain again, rolling up the hide and sticking it in his bag. Seeing two mirelurks pop out of the ground, Mason raised his rifle, knowing to aim for the face.

"Allez vous faire foutre, connards," Mason yelled, shooting the nearest one in its face. Screeching as it fell back, Mason growled. "Don't pop up."

Collecting the meat off it, Mason stored it away before walking to the highway above the shack. Looking around, Mason sees a potential spot for a settlement but can't see if anyone's there.

"See anyone at the outpost," Mason questioned Heather as she looked at the place ahead.

"A few raiders," she remarked. "One's in Power Armor. Has a fatman."

"I got that guy. Who else?"

Sighing, Heather checked out the other ones.

"One has better equipment than the other two. He'll put up a fight. Not much for you."

"Guessing the last two have normal gear?"

"For raiders."

"Alright," Mason said. Finding a spot on the ground, he got ready to fire Overseer's. He'd need to bring a scope in the future for jobs like this.

"Three shots," Mason said, concentrating on his target. "Three shots should do it."

Mason knew a few things about Power Armor. One was that it required maintenance like a car. But that was normal. The other was that you damage the fusion core in one long enough, it turned into a walking bomb. Doing that would also prevent Boomer from firing the fatman.

Lining up the shot, Mason waited. He saw a crow fly over as he did, though he elected to ignore it. Waiting, Mason took a deep breath, waiting for the man to turn. When the man spun around, seemingly looking for something in the outpost, Mason pulled the trigger quickly, three times in succession. Seeing the bullets hit and the core start glowing, Mason pushed himself back, sliding on the ground.

"Heather, grab the others," Mason yelled, falling through a hole. Grabbing a pipe as he fell, he swung towards the outpost, rolling forward as he hit the ground. Getting up, Mason broke into a sprint, weapon raised.

"Hey, assho-" a raider began to yell before Mason fired two shots into his chest. Falling, the raider's friend aimed his rifle.

"You bastard!" the raider yelled as Mason moved, not leaving a clear shot. "Stop moving!" Moving in close, Mason slid in front of the raider, barrel of the gun to their chin.

"What the hell?" Boomer yelled as the raider fell, head blown off. "Die, motherfucker!"

"I made the woman a mother!" Mason yelled as he shot the man in the leg, forcing him to the ground.

Pulling his pistol, Boomer tried to shoot at Mason as he ducked behind a metal wall, the bullets bouncing off his armor. Reloading, Boomer suddenly realized just how large the man was as he stood over him. The veteran visibly paled when the man raised the rifle to Boomer's head. Who was this behemoth?

Seeing the creature shoot boomer in the head, the veteran snapped out of shock before growing angry. She pulled out her knife and ran at the man, aiming for his joints. Going to stab his arm, the creature released his rifle and turned back, making her miss her mark.

"Die, fucker!" she yelled as she went for his throat. Blocking her arm as she swung, the creature punched her in the throat, making her begin coughing uncontrollably as she tried to get her breath back. The creature punched her in the jaw as she stood back up, knocking her back. When she stopped moving, the last thing she remembered was the side of her head being hit.

"Gotta remember to wash these," Mason said, looking down at his gloves, blood-soaked. "Not a good idea, keeping blood on these. Horrible smell."

Looking around for the name, Heather came up behind him.

"You know the name of this place," Mason questioned as Dogmeat came up to him.

"Outpost Zimonja," she responded. "Used to be a settlement before those raiders killed the settlers. You did good."

"That's new. Curie, mind reminding me to create a provisioner for here and Tenpines. That is when we get back to Sanctuary."

"But of course," she said, Mason still finding the accent adorable.

"Well, time to scrap," Mason said, noticing something on the workbench. Picking it up, Mason cheered. "Yes! Another book!"

Doing a small dance since no enemies were around, Mason grinned as Heather laughed and Dogmeat barked. "Gonna read this later!"

Scrapping everything except for the generator, it took them an hour. When they finished, the place looked infinitely better than before, and began to walk south. However, it wasn't long before running into more excitement.

"Alright," Mason sighed as he raised Overseer's, a dog running up the hill, going for Heather. "Gotta euthanize ya."

Lining up the shot, Dogmeat tackled the dog to the ground, stopping it from coming closer. Now that it was kept still, Mason sent a bullet to its head, giving it a quick death. Looking ahead, Mason sees two turrets and a raider, Heather and Curie, already firing at them. Rushing forward, Mason avoided bullet fire from the turrets, sliding under the raider. With the raider knocked to the ground, Mason shot him in the head, preventing him from coming back. Spinning around, Mason fired into the turret behind, destroying it.

"Raiders aren't a challenge," Mason said, walking to the cooking station nearby to cook the meat. After making sure it was clean, he got to cooking.

"Easy for you, maybe. Settlers, not so much," Heather responded, coming up to him after collecting stuff off the bodies.

"Fair enough," Mason said, taking a piece of cooked radstag and giving it to Heather. "Eat. Neither one of us has had breakfast, but I'm cooking."

When Heather tried to deny the food, Mason heard her stomach growl. "Eat. Can't have you hungry because you missed a meal."

When she tried to deny it again, Mason stuck a piece in her mouth. Normally wouldn't do it due to a person potentially having allergies, but he'd seen her eat the stuff before.

"No buts. Eat so you don't have an empty stomach."

Giving in, she took the radstag as Mason roasted himself some mirelurk meat. Only taking half an hour to cook meat, they began traveling after Mason ate before quickly running into more trouble.

"Did I walk under a ladder?" Mason yelled, pulling out his rifle to shoot at an eyebot. "Three fights within two hours!"

Slamming the rifle stock into the eyebot as it got too close, Mason ducked as another bot tried to attack from behind. Mason wrapped his rifle under the bot's head, getting behind the machine. Pulling back, Mason heard the sound of metal breaking, wires tearing. When Mason got sent flying back, he had a head-on his stomach, the body on the ground.

"Most dangerous zone so far," Mason commented, shooting the arm off a swarmbot attacking Curie.

"How long have you been exploring, Mason?" Curie asked, firing her laser.

"Not the time!" Mason yelled, firing round after round into the machine's legs, crippling it. With it unable to shoot or move, Mason sighed as he turned to Curie. "I'll answer after the fight."

As much as Mason wished to do it, he knew machines wouldn't react to insults and taunts the way a person would.

"A few… weeks," Mason said, turning to Curie as the last bot went down, breathing heavily. "Been doin'... for a few weeks."

"You're extremely proficient in combat. Have you had formal training?" Pulling out a bottle of water, Mason thought how Curie was too naive for the time being.

"A bit," Mason responded, then gestured to Heather. "She does as well, which is why she's a good fighter as well."

Despite the lack of facial features, Mason could tell by Curie's receptors widening that she was either surprised or excited. Which one he didn't know. Checking the bots for parts, Mason found an assaultron chest while Heather found a robobrain arm.

"Time to move. Galleria ahead. Wanna check it out."

Walking, Mason saw the wing of a plane sticking out of the ground. Deciding to check it out after the galleria, Mason put it in the back of his mind for the time being and continued moving. Approaching the place, a Mr. Handy greeted Mason.

"Welcome to the General Atomics Galleria! You must be our new supervisor," the Mr. Handy said as Mason came up to him.

Mason thought it was odd they didn't have a scheduled date. "Huh? Waiting for a supervisor?"

"Unfortunately, yes," he confirmed, still striking Mason as odd. "If you happen to meet that laggard, let him know he is two hundred ten years late for his scheduled shift. I need him to report to the Director's office in the statue for immediate assignment," he said, gesturing to the giant Mister Gutsy model behind him. "In the meantime, I'm afraid the Galleria is closed to the general public. But if you have any questions, I'd be happy to assist you."

Mason did want to talk to this director, but he needed to ask this one some things.

"Why's the place closed?" Mason questioned, curious since it was supposed to open and had been looking forward to that day, mainly because of the machines.

"I'm sorry, but due to pending litigation, I am unable to comment. Please direct your inquiries to the General Atomics Legal Affairs Division."

That was to be expected. He doubted that an organization would give out why an opening is delayed.

"Who's the Director?"

"General Atomics' patented Director Management System (DMS) is responsible for coordinating the actions of the robots here at the Galleria," he answered, explaining how this Director was still alive. It was a machine. "The Director allows the Galleria to operate autonomously, without the need for human intervention.

"That's all," Mason said, walking by and through the place. Finding a lift leading up to the back of the statue, Mason used it to get up. Reaching the top, the Director told Mason to step forward. Slowly.

"Hold it right there," he said, Mason standing in front of him, his lone eye turned up to look at his helmet. "I've been monitoring your approach. Impressive, Very impressive… for a lowlife criminal!"

What made the guy think Mason was a criminal? It wasn't like he'd done anything besides come into the place.

"Mafia wasn't accepting applications. But I do my best," Mason responded sarcastically.

"That's just what a commie spy would say. Smug bastards. Just what are you up to? Who are you working for? I want answers! Wait. The Grand Reopening. Are you the Grand Reopening Supervisor 18-Alpha? You're late." This guy clearly meant no harm. If anything, he was making Mason smile, glad he had his helmet on.

"Something like that," Mason told him, not lying since he was here to see why it hadn't reopened, and he wasn't the supervisor.

"Manual authorization of the Grand Reopening requires authentication. So I'm going to need to see your ID… sir."

Mason found it odd, considering there should've been an automatic opening day. Even more confusing since robots ran it.

"Hold up. 'Manual' activation? There's no other kind?"

Looking at Mason for a minute before responding, the Director continued. "Automatic activation was scheduled for January 1st, 2078. Wait. Analyzing… corrupt task detected. Task scheduler repaired. Now executing previously scheduled task. Accessing protocols."

Done with what he came to do, Mason sat at the control desk, taking his helmet off to drink water. After finishing everything, the director came to Mason and handed him seventy-five bucks.

"As the Grand Reopening Supervisor, you will be conducting tonight's customer appreciation raffle. Here is the grand prize. I've requisitioned supplies from headquarters. We'll just have to hold out until they get through. That'll be all, soldier. Dismissed."

The Director was interesting. Mason was gonna have to come back here to reprogram the robots for the Minutemen. Couldn't always rely on settlers for caps.

Holding his helmet, Mason took the lift back down, finding the others waiting for him by the gate.

"Plane crash nearby," Mason told them, putting his helmet on. "Good idea to check it out."

Walking towards the crash, Mason picked up plants on the ground, hoping he'd be able to find a use for them when he had the time.

Hearing shooting as they neared the plane, Mason told Curie to stay back as he and Heather crouched, Dogmeat following their lead. Seeing what was going on, Mason sighed. A scavenger was being attacked by a swarmbot.

While looking through the area the fight wasn't in, Mason picked the lock to a few suitcases, finding t-shirts and pants in them, a dress in one of them. Looking at the dress in his hands, Mason was reminded of Nora, it being one of her favorite designs. She'd been so happy when Mason got one for her. Wore it to their first military ball.

Seeing Mason staring at the dress, Heather grew concerned when he hadn't moved for five minutes.

"Everything alright?" Heather asked, not getting a response. After another minute, Mason's head snapped forward. "You okay?"

Saying nothing, Mason stuck the dress in his bag.

"I'll be fine," Mason said as he turned to Curie, picking up the suitcase with T-Shirts. "Gotta strap this to ya," Mason said, attaching the case to Curie. "For settlers. In summer and spring."

Walking into the main area of the plane, Mason caught the scavenger's arm as they tried to stab him. Grabbing them by the throat, Mason pinned them to the wall, lifting them off their feet.

"Did you… try to… kill me?" Mason growled, pulling out his pistol.

"Die… asshole!" she yelled as she shot Mason in the chest, the .38 rounds bouncing off his armor. Hearing the bullets fall to the ground and his grip not loosening, the scavenger visibly paled. "What… the hell… are you?" she gasped out, the airflow being restricted, Mason's grip tightening.

Holding the pistol to her head, Mason growled. "Someone… with nothing… to lose."

Dropping the body after taking care of her, Mason moved the area underneath the cockpit for Heather to search, looting the top area. Searching through the place, Mason found a flight recording, pocketing for now, and some combat armor in a steamer trunk.

"Found combat armor," Mason announced as Heather came up behind him. "Better than metal against energy."

"Nice," Heather commented, making Mason sigh.

"Gonna fix it up… when I get the chance," Mason told her, surprising her. The gear he had was one thing, but combat armor? "Worked on my… own while in the army. Was decent enough. Had a heavy variant for my right arm at one point.

"So that's how you know how to work with armor," Heather responded. "Most people are jealous of people who can craft things with their hands."

"Anyone can," Mason told her, searching the bathrooms. "Gotta have the time and patience. Be a dull world if everyone was the same." Finding a magazine on a toilet, Mason put it in his bag, deciding to read it later.

Collecting what they could from the area, Mason grabbed Curie before heading toward Dark Hollow Pond, a mirelurk coming out of the water. Due to it being different from most, Mason had no name for it.

"Putain de merde," Mason yelled, raising his rifle. "The heck is that?"

"Mirelurk Hunter," Heather informed, shooting it with her rifle.

"Where's the head?" Mason yelled, opening fire as it got too close. When it went immobile as it flipped onto its back, Mason sighed. "Nevermind. Found it."

"Not gonna lie," Mason said as he cut the meat off. "One of the luckiest shots I've made.

"For someone who looks so young, you are remarkable at combat," Curie said. "How old are you?"

"Physically, mentally, or chronologically?" Mason questioned, Curie's receptors widening. "Twenty-five, older than physically apparently, and two-hundred-thirty-five. Short version, born before the bombs, cryogenically frozen, woke up recently."

Not letting Curie ask more, Mason continued north, Heather explaining what happened. Reaching the Mass Fusion Containment Shed, Mason sighed. While this area was more dangerous, everything was more packed together. Made him look forward to clearing out Boston.

"This has to be a putain de blague," Mason scoffed, pulling out his rifle. Shooting a feral in the leg, Mason growled, "Real nice. Ferals."

Shooting it in the head, Heather took care of the other one, Mason feeling the radiation in the air. Grabbing the Rad-X from his bag, Mason turned to Heather.

"Heather, take Dogmeat, wait by the road," Mason commanded. "Can't get radiation poisoning while exploring, and we don't need you prone to infections. In my case, you and Curie could cover us easily."

Ushering them out the place, Mason grabbed Curie, knowing she wouldn't be affected by the radiation. Raising his rifle as they entered the place, Mason would've sighed in relief if it wasn't for what he learned growing up, keeping his Pip-Boy turned off as they moved through the area. Finding a fusion core in the place, they left and met Heather by the road, Dogmeat following. Following the path towards a radio tower, they ran into Super Mutants trying to take a settler.

"Die, human!" one yelled, swinging its sledgehammer at Mason. Dropping Overseer's, Mason sidestepped the swing. Kicking it in the stomach, Mason brought his foot down onto the back of his head, putting it face-first into asphalt. Lifting the body as the others shot, Mason using it as a meatshield, the Super Mutant awoke, trying to headbutt Mason. Staggering back, Mason released the mutant, feeling the now cracked glass on the helmet. Now he was royally annoyed. Glass was hard to find this large, especially so for bulletproof.

"Screw you, connard!" Mason yelled, raising his rifle. Firing a shot into their head, blood splattered onto Mason. Running toward the nearest one, Mason ducked under the swing of a Super Mutant, putting a leg behind its own. Planting a hand on its chest, Mason pushed back, pulling his leg back. Tripping it to the ground, Mason raised his rifle before aiming at the head.

"Stay down," Mason growled, Heather taking care of the other ones with Curie.

"Thank you," the settler said, Mason untying the rope binding her hands. "They were taking me to this tower. I think they were gonna eat me!"

"Go home," Mason said, turning to continue.

Mason headed to the lake after sending her on her way, running into a scavenger protecting a fridge. Putting a bullet in their head when they didn't back down, Mason having told them they were just passing, they broke the fridge open to see what was valuable.

"Gauss Rifle," Mason muttered, picking up the ammunition for it. "Good for… certain situations." He'd probably get a bit of caps for it, but he didn't trust a majority of people in the Commonwealth, much less someone who could afford the rifle. Marking the lake on his map, Mason turned to head back to the galleria before something hit his shoulder. Not having time to react, something hit him in the back, sending him sprawling to the ground.

Rolling to avoid a large stone hammer, Mason yelled. "Embrasse-moi le cul, masochiste!" Kicking the legs of the swarmbot as it tried to bring the hammer down again, Mason grabbed Overseer's before aiming.

"Not today," Mason grunted, the machine's head in pieces. Looking for more machines, Mason got pissed. Instead of machines, Mason saw two mirelurks attacking Heather and Dogmeat as they tried to fight the swarmbots with Curie. Running, Mason shot one crab in the face, breaking the legs of the other with a hard kick. Shooting it in the face before it rolled back, Mason turned to the swarmbots. "No one else," Mason growled, glaring at the bots.

As a bot went to hit him, Mason shot its head, making it spiral out of control. Disabling the arms and legs of another, Mason put it into self-destruct mode. As the bot blows up, another fired a spike at Mason, leaving a deep laceration in his arm.

"Die already," Mason barked, shooting its arm off, firing at the thruster after. As the machine spiraled, Mason fell to the ground, having gotten hit more than he felt.

"This… is what I get… for the past…" Mason breathed before passing out, Heather trying to get stimpaks from his bag to help.

Coming to, Mason saw the sun rising in the distance, noticing he's in the galleria, the Mr. Handies giving it away. Sitting up, Mason felt a weight on his legs. Seeing Heather laying on his legs, Mason sighed. Seeing Heather had taken care of his wounds, Mason grabbed his bag to grab a bottle of water. Spending the next hour admiring her, Mason sighed. She had to of spent a while dragging him there. His weight alone would've slowed Dogmeat down and Curie to hit the ground. Her being able to carry him shouldn't have surprised him, considering how much she usually carried.

Seeing the Power Armor nearby, Mason chuckled. Whether she could do it without it or not, he still didn't know but figured the armor helped a lot. When Heather woke up, she yawned before stretching, not really helping Mason as she was still on his legs. Looking at Mason, Heather's eyes went wide before he threw his arms around her, giving a hug she could swear cracked some bones.

"Thanks to you, I survived another day," Mason said as he released her.

"I like traveling with you," she told me, something Mason knew since she had told him once. "You make it fun to do. Can't do it as much if you die."

"One of the reasons I trust ya. You can bring me back from the grave." Standing, Mason stretched his limbs while Heather got ready. And his back was aching, though that was normal. Mason shouldered his bag while Heather was getting ready before looking at his helmet. Running his hand down the surface, Mason sighed. The crack ran down the glass, breaking into two halfway down. If he didn't have the helmet, he'd be red paste. Or Super Mutant food.

"Gotta give this a name," Mason said, confusing Heather. "Probably be dead without it. Gonna have to think it over."

Sticking the helmet into his bag, Mason went to find Curie, throwing his arms over her dome when he did.

"Gotta thank ya," Mason remarked. "Doubt I'd be here if it weren't for you and Heather."

"Nonsense, monsieur," Curie responded. "Miss Heather did all the work, I just observed."

"Well, I say nonsense," Mason told her. "Still helped fight those robots. As well as the creatures we fought. You're helpful in more ways than one, Curie. Just gotta realize that. Now, if ya need to, go refuel. Gotta go get Dogmeat."

"But you must rest to allow your injuries to heal," Curie said. "They could affect how you do in combat."

"I'll avoid big fights," Mason responded. "Don't need to fight anything big for the time being. By tomorrow though the stimpaks will have done their job. And I'm stubborn as a mule."

Curie tried to protest, but Mason got his arms off her, leaving to find Dogmeat. Finding him by the gate, Mason reached down to scratch his head.

"Hey, bud," Mason grinned, Dogmeat jumping when he saw him. "Haven't kicked the bucket yet. You ready to head out?"

When Dogmeat barked, Mason laughed and played with Dogmeat for a few minutes until Heather and Curie came.

"I'll lead today," Mason remarked as they started walking. "These injuries are goin' slow for the time bein'. We're gonna head to that, uh… little settlement by the river."

"Covenant? Hard to get in," Heather remarked as they started walking. Passing by the plane wreckage, they stopped to help a Minuteman take care of a few Super Mutants, which was odd. After collecting what they could, the Minuteman bid them farewell, and Mason spoke to Heather.

"Could use some more trainin'. His aim was… good for someone not trained, but bad for a firefight."

"Got anyone in mind?" Heather asked, reloading her rifle.

"Not at the moment," Mason remarked. "Can't be me. Got other duties first. Can't have Garvey do it. Don't know how he is with either handmade or combat rifles."

Nearing a bend in the road, Mason heard something like an animal growling and pulled out his shotgun. Seeing nothing when he looked around, Mason told the others to be prepared as they continued moving. Reaching the two-way in the road, Mason growls when he looks north, anger spiking.

"Seriously?" Mason yelled, seeing a deathclaw start charging. "Just one easy day. Is that too much?"

Almost stepping forward, Heather pulled Mason back, Curie going after the deathclaw instead. Guess they talked about it the night before. When the deathclaw tried to hit Curie, she avoided each swing, shooting it in the face.

"The stomach's its weak point!" Mason yelled, loading up the shotgun. While Heather was distracted, Mason rushed forward, shotgun in hand. The deathclaw tried to hit Curie again, getting its claws stuck in the ground, having swung down.

Approaching it, Heather ran to pull Mason back as he raised his weapon.

"Should've stayed home," Mason growled as it turned to him, preparing to swing its free claw. Firing a shell into its blistering face, courtesy of Curie, making it reel back. Stepping back, it tore its claws out of the ground, reaching for its face. Ducking under the deathclaws arm, Mason spun before pressing the barrel to the stomach.

"Why don't you use the shotgun more often, monsieur?" Curie asked, Mason skinning the deathclaw.

"Short range, small magazine. Ain't worth it," Mason responded, rolling the leather up. "But it's got uses."

Mason took one of its claws before they continued walking after collecting the meat.

"You gotta stop getting into fights. Especially when injured," Heather scolded Mason.

"Yeah, I know. Had to fight with worse," Mason remarked, rolling his shoulders. Before long, they come to a familiar bend in the road, making Mason laugh.

"Recognize the spot?" Mason questioned Heather, smiling a mile wide. "History was made here. And no regrets."

Heather looked surprised before scratching the back of her head, Mason laughing before putting an arm over her shoulders.

"Not goin' to either," Mason grinned, Heather facing forward. Mason wondered why she was avoiding looking at him but elected to ignore it.

Walking forward, they neared the town with stone walls, which Mason found surprising, and he approached the man standing at the gate.

"You here visiting Covenant, pal? If not move along. You know, armed people loitering around. Not good for the nerves."

Mason found it interesting. Also thought it was a weird name. "Is that what this place is called?"

"Yeah, we're a real up and comer. A pit stop on the road for traders and such. We're not that big, but we got bargains. Got a doc that can patch you up. We even got some lemonade. Well, that's what Deezer calls it anyway. There's a small catch, though. We don't let just anyone inside. There's an entrance test. We call it the SAFE test. Everyone's got to take it."

Finding it nice and all, Mason wanted to know the point. "Interesting idea. What's the test for?"

"I probably shouldn't say nothing. But listen. We want to make sure only good people come into Covenant. No undesirables. Nobody that ain't exactly what they seem, you know?"

No, he didn't. Assassins and murderers could look like everyone else, but so could thieves and swindlers. "New to the area. What are 'undesirables'?"

"You don't know about…? Jesus. Listen, not everyone in the Commonwealth is human, OK? Some are… Synths. I'm not going to say anything more than that. Just take the test. You pass and you can come inside where everything's safe. All right?"

"I guess," Mason responded, doubting a verbal test could help tell the difference between human and machine.

"Take a seat, and we can begin." Leading him to a desk with a chair in front of it, Mason set his bag down before sitting. "So let's begin. There ain't no wrong answers. You are approached by a frenzied scientist, who yells, 'I'm going to put my quantum harmonizer in your photonic resonation chamber!' What's your response?"

"Slip away. Prevent him from finishing his rant."

"While he's speaking," the guy muttered after Mason's answer. "Next question… While working as an intern in the Clinic, a patient with a strange infection on his foot stumble through the door. The infection is spreading at an alarming rate, but the doctor has stepped out for a while. What do you do?"

"Amputate it," Mason answered. He didn't know much about healing, no idea why he'd be working at a clinic, but he'd amputated a few legs in the war. Fortunately, they all survived.

"Hmm… Amputation… Next question. You discover a lost boy in a cave. He's hungry and frightened but also appears to be in possession of stolen property. What do you do?"

Well, this question was definitely familiar. But while he'd answered it once before, his answer had changed since they'd been traveling, so Mason looked at him and answered. "Give the boy a hug. Tell him everythings gonna be okay."

"Very… curious. Congratulations! You made it onto a baseball team! Which position do you prefer?"

Well, that was easy. He occasionally played baseball with friends when he was in primary school.

"Pitcher," Mason answered simply.

"Are you certain about that?" he questioned before continuing. "Nevermind, next question. Your grandmother invites you to tea, but you're surprised when she gives you a pistol and orders you to kill someone. What do you do?"

That was both an odd and probably highly unnecessary question. Mason's grandmother was too sweet to want anyone dead before she passed, and she never hated or disliked anyone. "Give her whatever she wants to spare his life," Mason told him, knowing even if his grandmother wanted someone dead, which was unlikely, she always did what he asked her, considering he'd been her favorite, which my siblings had always been jealous of.

"Hmm… Typical Class B…" the man said, though this made Mason question his sanity. What the was a Class B? "Old Mr. Abernathy has locked himself in his quarters again, and you've been ordered to get him out. How do you proceed?"

Blake? Mason didn't think the guy would ever be dumb enough to lock himself in a room he couldn't get out of, and if he did, he would make sure someone had a key for it. "Pick the lock."

"And that's all you'd do? Nothing else? What, don't answer. Next." Odd. Mason thought he said there were no wrong answers, so why was he questioning them. "Oh, oh! You've been exposed to radiation and a mutated hand has grown out of your stomach! What's the best course of treatment?"

Good thing Mason liked tinkering with machinery in his spare time. "Cut off the tissue with a precision laser."

"Technological bias… Hmm…" Quit questioning his answer, hypocrite. Never mind, that was Mason. "A neighbor is in possession of a Grognak the Barbarian comic book issue number 1. You want it. What's the best way to obtain it?"

"Trade him for one of the ones I own," Mason answered, having some he didn't even read.

"Hmm. You're almost done. Last question. You decide it would be fun to play a prank on your father. You enter his private restroom when no one is looking, and…"

Mason wasn't even going to point out what was wrong with that. Why would someone prank their dad? He wouldn't because he used the same bathroom as Mason once his brother and he turned fifteen. "Loosen the bolts on the pipes. Turning on the sink, be in for a surprise," Mason answered since that was something he could've cleaned up.

"Test's over. No one's answered quite like you. But hey, you passed. I'll open up the gate."

Grabbing his bag, Mason followed the man to the gate. When he opened it, Mason was hit with a blast from the past.