Glowing yellow eyes suddenly pierced the darkness. The ruins of a vaguely familiar place towered around Nick in heaps of broken, bent, and decaying debris. It was strangely silent, for as he knew it the streets should be been bustling with yellow taxi cabs, luxury sedans, and the colony workforce of the great city of Boston.

"What the hell?" He wondered aloud.

There was just a low hum. For some reason he felt it in his chest.

He realized he was half buried in a pile of rubble. As he attempted to stand he noticed his hand and gasped in surprise.

A large gash opened along his right thumb all the way up his forearm. Being a detective and long-standing cop he didn't panic, but instead examined the gash and surrounding gray skin.

There was no blood, not even a trace in fact, no muscle, and he felt no pain. Metal bones. There were metal bones. Metal bones which circuitry followed. He skin felt like carbon plastic, but also almost rubbery. Was he dead?

Nick continued to stare in total disbelief. He slowly opened his hand, then closed it into a fist, and opened it again. He could hear the ever so faint sound of working gears and the mechanical joints. He looked at his other hand, then his arms. He felt his face and his arm jerked back at reflex like speed when his fingers came into contact with a gaping hole in his neck. He stuck his hand into his neck and felt metal and a thick collection wires, and something gooey. When he pulled his hand back out he looked at the goo. It was a dark blue and half dried.

This has to be a dream. Maybe the ill effects of the amount of alcohol he had been consuming. Perhaps it was even caused by something he ate.

He tried to hastily stand up but was trapped by the rubble. He growled in frustration as he started ripping the crumbling bricks off himself and hurled them into the street. They skipped on what was left of the pavement, shattering into smaller and smaller pieces each time they struck the ground.

As soon as Nick felt less pressure on his legs and torso he pulled himself out of the rubble.

He lurched forward as he stood up and gravity pulled him down the pile onto the street. He didn't lose his balance though, he just went with it.

Once on the street he examined his grey mechanical body, least what he could see of it.

He punched himself in the sternum as hard as he could. The sound of metal on metal rang in his ears. He felt a faint vibration travel up his arm into his shoulder. Neither hand nor plate was damaged.

Nick felt the hole in his neck again. His fingers crept around a bundle of wires until his grip was firm. He stood like that for a moment. It turned into another moment then another and the circuits inside him started to whirl and the humming sound increased. Something pounded in his chest and screamed in his brain. He released his grip on the wires and pulled his shaking hand away.

His mind raced. Where was everyone? What happened? What was he? Why couldn't he wake up?

Nick looked up at the silvery moon. In desperation he almost wished it could talk.

He shook his head then looked back at the pile he had been stuck in.

"This whole place looks like a trash pile." He muttered to himself.

He recognized his own voice. He also recognized that the pile looked like it had been part of a defensive wall. He looked up and saw the decaying body of a woman handing buy her neck. Her eyes had been pecked out by the many scavengers in the wasteland and her skins had wrinkled and compressed like a dried raisin. A dark stain remained under her feet with her fingers and toes. On either side of her were several heads on spikes.

Nick was no stranger to violence and dead bodies, but this was one of the most disturbing things he had seen, even for a career of his caliber and longevity.

Then it dawned on him. The war! They were on the brink of war and it must of reached US soil!

The surrounding area looked as if it hadn't been disturbed in quite some time. He even left footprints in the dust that settled over the street.

He figured they resorted to nukes and if so who could be so stupid.

Nick entered the enclosure of the wall. He was met with the sight of more raisin like corpses. The camp was mostly intact besides the first crude shack which had a hole blown into the side. Nick found a pipe revolver, some ammo and a sling holster. He found many broken pipe rifles but none in safe working condition.

Nick also investigated a pre war building that was still mostly intact. The door was gone and the windows were all shattered. He accidentally stepped on glass and it didn't hurt or damage his skin. The room he entered looked like it had been a reception area.

He moved behind the desk and opened the first file he found. The date was October 22nd, 2077.

Nick remembered the summer of 2077 was the worse of his life. After that he couldn't remember shit.

"Oh God what happened?" He exhaled.

Nick spotted a box of funnel cake on a shelf under the desk. He opened it. It looked as if it was only a day old. He took a piece of it and bit into it. He tasted nothing and spit it out.

He felt like he could cry. Jenny loved funnel cake.

"Damn, Jenny. I can't even taste it." He said under his breath, or whatever it was.

He pushed the cake back into the box and carried it with him down the empty street.

Nick was full of despair by first light. He had walked for miles with funnel cake in hand and not a sign of recent life.

When he came across a clothing store he entered. Most of it had been looted and the place had been trashed, but he managed to find a pair of slacks and a white button down shirt. He found a crumpled fedora on the floor and dusted it off.

He looked at himself over in a cracked mirror in a dressing room.

"You always did have an ugly mug." He said out loud.

He looked at something with glowing yellow eyes who stared right back him.

"Stop staring at me!" He shouted.

Nick placed the hat on top of his bald head. He quickly put the pants and shirt on. On his way out of the dressing room he easily ripped off the door and overturned heavy display shelves. He looked at what he was able to do in surprise. He kicked a display shelf and the brittle wood splintered. His chest expanded as if he was breathing harder.

He spotted a pair of brown leather gloves and a checkered scarf. He covered as much of his shell as he possibly could.

He desperately searched for a pair of sun glasses but found none.

When Nick was about to exit the store he paused. He felt the sensation of hair standing up on the back of his neck. He heard a low growl.

He crept up to the window and peered out. A hulking green hound was sniffing outside of the door. Two giant green monsters in rusty armor stood only paces away. A third monster walked up to them and threw a pack of hairless wild dogs on the ground. A fourth one joined them. He set down a metal barrel and started a fire in it.

There was a buzzing noise and a giant fly buzzed up to the fresh meat on the ground. The mutant hound immediately started chasing it. In one giant leap and a powerful bit, it grabbed the fly which exploded into a yellow goo and flakes of exoskeleton. The hound coughed and gagged and rubbed its nose on the ground. Maggots immediately emerged from the goo. Another fly buzzed by and one of the super mutants swatted it into the ground. It exploded upon impact.

Nick was disgusted. He moved away from the window and found the employees exit.

A few blocks away a group of armed men stood on a corner. They appeared to be arguing and their voices carried down the street.

"Those weak ass settlers didn't stand a chance!" One of them laughed.

"Yeah we got some pretty good loot. I bet they will be too scared to ever show their faces again!"

"That's the problem you stupid nit whit." A large framed raider in cage armor walked up to the group.

"So you suddenly grew balls because you got a mini gun huh?" One of them mocked. "Gonna go join those mercenaries now since you're a big shot?"

Nick heard the whirl of the mini gun right before the group was mowed down. They're bodies hit the ground with a thud. Nick's eyes narrowed.

"Probably had it coming." He said quietly.

Nick continued to wander around Boston, looking for anything or anyone who could explained what happened to him and the world. He was greeted with both awe and fear by fellow travelers who also kept their distance.

That night Nick sat in the second story of a building with one side of it completely gone. He sat in a dark corner and watched the street.

Despite the idea that his frame could probably walk forever Nick felt drained. The numbness of being in shock was wearing off. He still was in disbelief that he was a robot, and could not fathom how. He was angry, who could ever do something like this to someone?

Nick felt a heavy sob emerge from his chest. It escaped his mouth but there were no tears. His chest heaved again. He closed his eyes and imagined himself disappearing into the darkness.

He felt the wires inside his neck and listened to the hum from in his chest. Nick Valentine was dead.