One Month Later

General NathanielHobbs of The Commonwealth Minutemen, has seen war. Lived it. Survived it. He knows better than most that War… War Never Changes. However… as he stood, miles above the Earth's crust in an alien spaceship with two other individuals that he had barely known for more than a few weeks, preparing to wage war against an army of immense size and capability, he wondered… 'Maybe the rules have changed a little.'

He had foolishly thought that after coming out of cryogenic stasis for 210 years and finding himself in a burnt out world of Mutants, Monsters, and Madmen, that his life couldn't have possibly gotten stranger. Now he had found out that not only were aliens real, but the man he'd been traveling with for the better part of a year had fought, beaten, and commandeered one of their ships and had since been using their advanced technologies to further enhance his already incredible skill on the battlefield. He sighed inwardly to himself, 'Well that explains how he beat a Deathclaw down with a baseball bat.' He paused however and thought to himself, 'Or maybe it doesn't, because apparently this guy over here has been doing the same thing without all the fancy tech.' He was referring, of course, to the burly individual far over to his left doing one handed, two fingered push-ups.

Alexander Ferro, standing at an impressive 6'7 and built tougher than the Great Wall of China, skin as dark as the night and eyes the shade of steel with the same coldness to boot, was a man of incredible strength and indomitable will. As one had to be to survive in the Insomnia Wasteland.

When the Great War started and the world began to burn, many speculate that New York City was the very first place to be burnt to ashes. It makes sense considering the population density was the highest in the country at the time. Nathaniel remembered visiting the "City That Never Sleeps" a bustling metropolis with countless sights and tourist traps, diverse cultural hangouts and easily the best hot dogs in the country. New York was the proudest city in America. A shining example of Life, Liberty, and The Pursuit of Happiness.

Now though… it was just like everywhere else. A Wasteland. But possibly more brutal than any other. Because, you see, despite the beauty of the city before the war, New York was still very dangerous. The city was ruled by gangs and crime although it was hidden behind the shadows. You'd be hard pressed to find a police officer who wasn't on payroll for one of the gangs or Mafia Families, or plain crooked trying to scheme their way up in the world. And now that there was no more government and no more laws to try and stop them, the gangs and Families that survived the fires of the apocalypse had gotten even more dangerous. Once the nuclear fallout ceased and the air became breathable they crawled out of their holes and began to fight for territories, becoming more and more brutal everyday. The city was dubbed 'Insomnia' on the account of it being impossible to get a good night's sleep with all the screaming and crying and fucking. It finally lived up to its nickname.

These Gang Wars continued until one day in March of 2279, a brutal and sadistic tribe of Raiders known as

"The Slaughterkin" tricked their way into Vault 48 underneath Central Park and murdered all of the male Vault Dwellers and took the women back to their camp to be "put to work." However, The Slaughterkin weren't as thorough in their work as they thought for they left one man alive, Alexander Ferro. Beaten, bloodied, and above all else FURIOUS! He pulled himself to his feet and patched his wounds as best as he could and then proceeded to dig 499 graves. One for each of his fellow male Vault residents. He dug for days without rest, through the cold nights and hot days, the rain showers and radstorms. Never once wavering in his commitment nor his Rage.

And finally, after weeks of perseverance he buried the final man. And with his shovel in hand… he walked. Heading straight toward the home base of The Slaughterkin. Powering through the mutated animals, and packs of Super Mutants and Raiders, and hordes of feral Ghouls. The 48 on his back somehow still shining brightly and his shovel dripping in the blood of his slain enemies.

He arrived after another week of travel in front of the wooden, blood covered Gates of The Slaughterkin and demanded they open their doors and face their deaths with dignity. However, he had made a lot of noise on his march toward his goal. They had prepared a trap for him and in moments his body was riddled with bullets and he lay bleeding on the ground once again. But still he clung to life, not allowing Death to claim his soul until he gained that which he desired...

VENGEANCE!

The Leader of The Slaughterkin didn't notice this undying will to survive and once again made the foolish assumption that he was dead. He had two of his men, which he really didn't like all that much, drag Alexander's bullet ridden corpse to the Deathclaw Caves in the ruins of the subway and placed right in the middle of their home to be devoured.

But, of course, Alexander Ferro would not be denied his vengeance. He crawled his way into a good enough hiding spot and dug the lead out of his body in silent agony. He kept himself alive by feeding on the remains of whatever dead animal the Deathclaws dragged into the caves and drinking the rainwater that poured in from the outside. He lived like this for months until his wounds properly healed and he could attempt to make his way out to the surface. But on his way out the Deathclaws finally spotted him. But, instead of doing what any sane man would and running as fast as he could, he decided… to FIGHT!

And what a fight it was. One Hundred of the irradiated death machines fell to his shovel before they realized that this was no ordinary human and as the 100th Deathclaw fell to his blade the Alpha bowed before him as did all of his followers and recognized Alexander as their new Alpha.

And so after fashioning two gauntlets out of the two strongest Deathclaws he felled as well as armor from their pelts and bones. He finally stalked out of the Caves, the sunlight hitting his dark skinned and bearded face for the first time in what felt like years, and with an Army of Deathclaws behind him, and with the number 48 painted in blood on his back he and his army made their way back to the Gates of The Slaughterkin.

The look on The Leaders face as Alexander and his Army marched up to the gates and tore them off their hinges and proceeded to Rip and Tear all of his men to bloody pieces was enough to finally put a smile back on Alexander's face.

Of the 500 females that were taken from Vault 48, only 113 remained, and some were so mentally scarred they may as well have already been dead.

No words were spoken from Alexander as he had the former Alpha, now named "Mors Ungula" after the Latin words for Death and Claw, drag the Slaughterkin leader out into the main courtyard to watch as Alexander calmly dug a grave in the center of the base. The prisoners and slaves, as well as the women from the Vault, that they kept tied up and abused watched with glee as Alexander sliced the leader's Achilles Tendon and hamstrings and threw him into the grave, screaming in pain and fear. Alexander allowed each man and woman to throw a batch of dirty into the grave as the leader begged and pleaded for his life, his cowardice on full display as he cried his eyes out in search of mercy.

He Found None.

After this day the people of Insomnia began calling Alexander, "The Alpha" and sung his praises as he and his Deathclaws began to bring down all of the Raider tribes, Gangs, and Families.

It was only a few days into this new mission of his when The Lone Wanderer crossed paths with him after dispatching a gang of Super Mutants that Alexander was on his way to take care of alone while his Deathclaws handled business elsewhere. The Wanderer had come to Insomnia on a hunch, hoping to finally find someone that was like him. Malcolm decided to help The Alpha in his quest to rid the Wasteland of those who would hurt the innocent and prey on the weak. Once this was done Alexander and a few of his Deathclaws joined The Wanderer aboard his spaceship on his quest to find more powerful individuals like themselves and finish his main quest to join the two Brotherhood branches.

It wouldn't be until the fall of 2281 that a Courier with the Mojave Express would receive a package that would change her life and the subsequent lives of everyone in the Mojave. But that is a story for another time…

A/N: Alexander Ferro is, of course, an OC. One that I literally just came up with on the spot. I knew I needed a fourth Wanderer to join the three canon protagonists and I spent most of the last week piecing things together. It wasn't until right before I started writing that everything finally clicked together and I understood exactly what I needed.

BTW I'm calling all the protagonists "Wanderers" as I have a head canon for why the characters we play as are so powerful. You'll find out more as time goes on.

Also, maybe don't expect as deep of a dive into the other Wanderer's backgrounds as for the most part they stick to canon with the obvious exception of meeting The Lone Wanderer. But still, maybe do expect a deep dive, once I start writing I really have no idea what I'll do. It's a hyperfocus thing.

Isn't ADHD grand?!

Anyway… yea, bye.