CHAPTER 60

The Cold, Hard Truth.

Sanford and Hancock hadn't taken long to reach the bulkhead of the main computing lab, as Hancock was able to route them to the chamber pretty well on first-hand accounts of what he had seen in the facility when the Institute took him.

According to his deranged friend, he had been strapped to an operating block, and a team had gone about trying to remove his flamethrower attachment when Hancock cut a man's arm off with his buzzsaw.

While Sanford initially thought it exaggerated, Hancock claimed he killed two men and hurt several others while he was resisting- eventually, the Institute's 'Director'- opted to nail him with an EMP round, and toss him into a specimen containment cell just to be safely away from him for a moment.

"-Dishonorable! Absolutely DISGUSTING! These, tick-pickin', scab-lickin' Reds can't even finish the job like REAL men! GROW A PAIR, YOU CHROME, BASTARDS!" The Mr. Gutsy bellowed into the relatively silent warrens of the facility.

"Stop yelling, please, by God's name..." Sanford groaned. "-I've spent the last two days looking for you and Anger-Management Girl, don't make my headache worse..."

"Worse than a pair of handcuffs, sir?"

"Would you- STOP it, with that weird-ass analogy?"

"But it annoys you! THAT MEANS IT'S ON THE MENU! WOO!"

"...Jesus Christ..."

"I just- LOVE ya', sir!"

"That's a first."

"FLEA-EATER!"

"Screaming coffee-machine."

"TROTSKY POSTER-KISSER!"

"Talking toilet."

"Your wife, in another life-! WAS A GORILLA!"

"In another life, eh? What's wrong with you, man." Sanford chuckled.

"Well it seems you've got the hots for Gator-Mator!"

"….I dunno'."

"Was it the French accent?!"

"…The… What? What do you mean, you freak?"

"I wonder what kind of weird-ass escargo' shit she could start giving off if you porked her!"

"-Oh Christ, just- STOP. Listen to me, just cut it off now."

"-THOUGH, apparently that's never gonna' happen either way! Seeing as you, oh, maybe… SUCKED FACE WITH THE LOCAL PROSTITUTES?! HUH?! Yeah! Saw that little tidbit crashing over the hill like a damnable storm! CALLED IT!"

"….Nothing happened."

"-HA! I'll believe that one when China isn't always on the brink of civil war!"

"….There IS no more China."

"SEMANTICS!"

"….Ugh…."

"Semantics and fabrications! CHIVALRY WAS ALWAYS DEAD! ILLUMINATI CONFIRMED! WE'VE ALL, BEEN LIED TOO!"

"….I am begging you, to stop talking."

"-THE PROLETARIAT WERE ALWAYS RIGHT! DOWN WITH THE REDS!"

"….Pretty certain the 'Proletariat' was a Communist thing… Or, I suppose Russian in general."

"-Ha! Sir, I'll tell ya', that's like trying to argue the difference between solid shit and diarrhea!"

"That's just disgusting."

"Exactly! They're both fucked up! AND THEY BOTH SMELL LIKE HELL! HA-! Ha ha! I rhymed! Score ONE, for Democracy!"

"…Have you ever met a Russian? Someone from Russia?"

"Nope!"

"So how do YOU know they all smell like shit? How do you know they're all Communists?"

"….We're in one of THESE moods I see… FUN KILLER!"

"Were all Germans Nazis?"

"…..Fuck off with your… LOGIC…" Hancock spat. "-Logic's for women!"

"That explains a lot." Sanford chuckled. "Bring that up to Nyx, you'd want her opinion on that."

"….Well, I think I WILL. Ha!"

"Your funeral."

"I shoulda' been dead a million times over! STILL KICKIN', YOU FUCKERS! Nobody, can match the masculine badassness of- THE HAN'!"

"You're out of your gourd."

"-I'M WHACKED OUTTA' MY FRIKKIN' MIND! HA!"

"…..Keep it down," Sanford examined some of the bodies of the synths that Laslar had killed in his push for the chamber ahead, through the pill-like doorframe just a few steps away.

Sanford lined himself up on one side of the frame, he glanced at the overall arch, and he noticed that the entire section of wall was… indented, or, rather OUT-dented. Sanford checked his scans again as Hancock levitated beside him.

…..There was only one life signature he was picking up, well, one faint one and one healthy one- but other than that…. And they were both human…

"….Nyx?" Sanford rounded the frame.

"-Oh, for Reagen's SAKE! What happened to squad-tactics, you ape?!" Hancock belted out. "-One day, sir! I'll figure out a way to strap a MIND CONTROL thingie' to your fat head! And I'll- woah…. That's a bit too grim for this G.I…."

"Oh my God." Sanford shook his head. They both stared across the chamber that was carpeted with bodies, all of the scientists that the Institute relied on to continue surviving. There were… Tens of them.

Dead synths, dead scientists…. And some of those synths looked…. Odd….

"You ever seen anything like THAT?" Sanford nodded to one of the destroyed platforms as he carefully maneuvered through the corpses, with Hancock levitating over them.

"...Not at all, sir."

"-Oh no." Sanford and his robot eventually rounded the smashed and shot-up rows of computer monitors, to a set of pods in the back of the chamber- one was smashed open at the glass, and there was a large puddle of fluid at its wheeled base and all across the floor.

Sanford saw a bunch of bodies had been sifted and tossed aside at the epicenter of this liquid burst- he saw thinned crevices torn into the tile of the floor from what looked like claws, or nails.

…..He glanced out across the chamber, and he saw a single dead Enclave soldier meshed in with the bodies towards the side of the room, something he hadn't seen before.

….Maybe she had escaped.

She had to of.

There was no body, no-

"I'm confident ole' Scale-Mail had a fit and got out!" Hancock reassured him. "-She wouldn't just CROAK like that, sir! Even if she is a fuckin' mutated frog and all…"

"…Yeah… Y-Yeah, you know, you're right…. You're right." Sanford shivered out a breath. "…This wouldn't have happened if I wasn't such an idiot."

"You know what they say, sir, everyone has their moments where they're a dirtbag! I should know! I've MASTERED, the art of being a dirtbag! And-… What? WHAT?! Don't just LOOK at me like that, you slack-jawed bitch!"

Sanford was just glaring at him.

"-…It seems we were seeking the same thing, after all, stranger…"

chkn-

tzzzz… Sanford primed his rifle, Hancock chambered a link to his flamethrower- both leveled their weapons with the shadowy form of an older man, slowly, standing from a crouch behind the shattered tank of the apparently not-present, Deathclaw.

Sanford narrowed his eyes and jabbed the gun he was holding.

"-Back up. Who the hell are you?"

"-YOU! You dildo-hoarding, ear-lickin' whore bag! I'll make an incision in your FACE!" Hancock screamed, revving his buzzsaw. "-FOR SCIENCE! HA-HA!"

"-STOP." Sanford barked, making the Director jump out of his fearful recline. Hancock grumbled and lowered his arm. "Who. Are. You?"

"…D-D-Director O-Ordy, of the Secession, of the Institute, Wastelander." Ordy stuttered, smiling. "-O-Or what used to BE the Secession…."

"Why did you take my Deathclaw, Director?"

"-She's YOURS now, huh?" Hancock chuckled. "-CALLED IT!"

"…..Just ignore him," Sanford rolled his eyes.

"FUCKER!"

"-Answer me."

Ordy bunched his fists together over his gut.

"-W-We needed a specimen, and, she was a prime one-"

"What did you need a specimen for? A DEATHCLAW, of all things?"

"…..It doesn't matter now-"

"I didn't ask if it mattered, I asked why you did it." Sanford interjected coldly.

"…..It was for a weapons project, a soldier, there," Ordy tossed his arms, eyes getting big with anger. "-There I SAID it, does that extra reason to kill me suit you? Yes? Maybe?"

"Shut your fucking mouth." Sanford stepped closer, the Power Armor enshadowing the now reclining, shorter form of the Director. "-What were you going to do to her?"

"…...Take tissue samples, blood samples, study behavior patterns… It didn't require her dying."

"I don't believe you."

"I suppose that's your choice, Wastelander. I-I mean, I have nothing to hold in your way," Ordy swept an arm across the chamber. "-M-My whole staff is dead, my facility is in tatters, you've almost single-handedly wiped out my synthetic forces. What more can you do to me?"

"I can kill you."

"If THAT, is what you must do, than DO IT." Ordy suddenly barked. "-I've nothing left anyhow! Go on then! SHOOT ME! Please! End my life! Take it from me! I DON'T WANT IT ANYMORE! Everything else was taken from me! My home, my way of living, my passion, my damned wife-! It's all gone from me, good sir! So go ahead! SHOOT ME!"

"…..You had a wife, huh?"

"-W-What-?! Why-….. I… AGH," Ordy stomped his shoe. "…..Long time ago…. She sent those Gen-X's…"

The Director pointed at the spindly synthetics that lye dead about the floor with all the scientists.

"…She's crossing the tunnel, you know, the Division's coming… So you might as well make it easier for her and kill me before her own team makes her do it…"

"….Who's the Division?" Sanford blinked.

"…The other facility, underneath Charles River," Ordy sighed. "-Y-You aren't aware of what's been happening down here, outsider, it's all…. Wrong…"

"The Institute split?"

"We've been split, kid."

"You're group was the Secession?"

"Mmhm."

"Your own wife, is the Division? A-And she wants to kill you?"

"….I don't know if she… WANTS to…" Ordy shifted on his feet. "….But if she wants complete unification of the science teams, than she must."

"-L-Look, I don't have time for this," Sanford shook his head. "-Where's my God damned Deathclaw?"

"…She got out of the pod," Ordy gestured for the smashed glass behind him. "I figured she'd meet with you and your…. ROBOT… Outside."

"-The greatest victory is scarring your enemies for life!" Hancock laughed. "-TOUCH MY TENDERS AGAIN, YOU PEDOPHILIAC OLD FART, AND I'LL HACK OFF YOUR MUSTACHE AND MAKE YOU SNUFF IT UP YOUR FAT, TROLL-ISH NOSE!"

"…Calm down." Sanford bowed his head, laughing quietly. "Where did I find you, again?"

"-Ah, I don't remember," Hancock waved a buzzsaw. "-I probably fell off the back of a hardware truck and popped up and screamed- SANFORD! –And all that shit…"

"Make it a potato truck, and your description's pretty spot on."

"Go chug anti-freeze!"

"-W-Wait there's that name again," Ordy held his arms up. "-W-Where do you both know a 'Sanford'?"

"…..I'm, Sanford." Sanford held his gauntlet to his chest.

"-Yeah! What the manic ape said!" Hancock jabbed his buzzsaw at his friend. "-San' of the FORD'! Right here!"

"….Sanford, huh." Ordy smiled. "I haven't heard that name in a very, very long time."

"Really." Sanford shrugged, disinterested. "Figure that, old man."

"…W-Well, it's funny, you see, I'm-"

beepbeep

beepbeep

-"….Oh my… I-I need to-"

"-Don't you fuckin' move." Sanford jabbed his gun up when the Director angled his chin over the X-01's flank.

"-No-no, you don't understand, it's the Division! T-They're coming through the tunnel! T-That's our scanner system making that noise! I have to seal the bulkhead!"

"I thought you weren't concerned if they shot you, or not?" Sanford grumbled.

"…I…. I do not wish to die."

"-I'm sure all the innocent people your synths murdered over the years," Sanford leant down and sneered beneath his helmet. "-Would've said the same fuckin' thing."

There was a long pause, and Ordy was left caught there, beneath the towering man and his robot.

"….Let's go, Han'. Let's find our Deathclaw."

"RIGHT behind you, sir! See ya' in hell, Gray-and-Decrepit!"

"-You're right!" Ordy called after the two heroes as they turned away. "-You are RIGHT! I deserve to be dead, after all the things I didn't stop and erase from the Institute's practices! YOU, ARE, RIGHT! But for the sake of my wife! I can't let her have to take on that choice!"

"As far as I'm concerned, I don't really care." Sanford snorted. "Good talk. Have a nice fucking day while I clean up the mess, you exacerbated."

"-I can't do this to Linda!"

"…..Who?"

"-T-That's her name!" Ordy sobbed. "-She is the most wonderful woman in the world, in MY world! And I have done nothing but push her away my entire life! And I cannot bear to have it all end with THIS! I-I don't even know what she'll do-! S-She might refuse! And her team will kill HER! And I simply- I simply CAN'T!"

"…..Sanford, I'm getting some real screwy ju-ju' vibes here!" Hancock commented. "-I don't like it, sir!"

"Why should I HELP you, after I had to fight my way through a facility, filled with your shit-head robot army, AND, after I had to fight Enclave soldiers that you opened the door for? Reason that for me, Ordy."

"...There is no reason... L-Look around us... My team's dead, my synths are gone, my second in line betrayed me and so did Laslar Seduun." Ordy listed coldly. "I knew from the moment we authorized XM-988 to speak to that Superintendent, that there was such a risk... A final, risk."

"Last I checked, you kidnapped MY team," Sanford stated. "Now you want me to prevent your own woman from shooting you upside the head?"

"...Please," Ordy held his hands out, and backed off when Hancock aimed his flamethrower's nozzle. "...I-I'll do anything."

Sanford for a moment was caught in the developing silence. This was absolutely insane.

Help the Director? Of the same group that had been trying to kill him for days? It was illogical.

It was-

"-M-Maybe I can track your Deathclaw's signal!" Ordy suggested with a developing, desparate smile. "-P-Please! I-I can-! I can teleport you, TO her! I know! I know!"

"How would that work?" Sanford raised a brow.

"-T-There's a tag," Ordy pointed at his hip. "We tag everything we captur- I mean- intern-! I MEAN-"

"I get it." Sanford cut him off."You're saying you can locate this tag, and zap me to it?"

"Yes! Yes, Sanford, I promise you! I can most certainly do that!"

"Prove it."

"...W-What...? H-How can I just, up and PROVE something like that, Sanford?!" Ordy shouted. "-Ask your model there! We TRIED to tag him before he cut off my man's arm!"

"-HA! He even screamed like a girl!" Hancock cackled. "-DEMOCRACY DISCO! Uunce' uunce' uunce'..."

Sanford observed for a second as the bounced up and down in the air beside him, silently, and shook his head.

"…...You know, Ordy, my mother was named Linda."

"…..F-Fancy that," Ordy wiped at his eyes. "-S-Sanford, I don't know who you are, what your life is like up there, on the surface, but… I plead with you… Y-You've beaten the Secession, you've beaten ME… Linda and the Division have been cut off from the world since its formation… She's innocent…. I-I can't let her do this to herself… To her team, too."

"…If I do this…" Sanford got real close again. "-Not only are you going to help me find my Deathclaw, but when I come back, I am liquidating every single piece of technology, in this facility, do you understand?"

"…I….."

"-C'mon Hancock-"

"-F-Fine! F-Fine! It-it's all… TAINTED…. Anyway…" Ordy shuddered. "…I'll give up my work for her…. I'll give it all up."

"Good."

"-W-We need to go back to the lift. She'll come in through the center bulkhead of the ground plaza floor, I need to lock it…"

"How?"

"There's a terminal in the third strut tower of the main chamber, five floors up, I'll activate the mag-locks to prevent her from getting in."

"And what does this do?"

"I'll get on a communications channel with her, I'll tell her what's happened…."

"And if she stops?"

"….I'll exile myself from the grounds, and you can do what you will with the facility and everything in it… Linda won't want it without its staff and Gen-2 synths…"

"….You realize I'll burn everything in here, right?" Sanford muttered.

"….I do. But I love this woman, Sanford."

"Is she thinking the same way as you?"

"I never doubted our alike minds a single day in my life, I simply… needlessly resisted it."

"….Alright, fine. Fine," Sanford gestured for the doorway down ahead. "..You lead. If something even remotely cute happens, I put a bolt in your head."

"Agreed."

-"RIGHT! Now, MARCH! Scumbag!" Hancock flew up and behind the Director, and punted his buzzsaw into his back, jerking the old man forwards. "-No breaks! No snacks! NO STOPPING FOR THE PLAYGROUNDS! We move for Siberia!"

"….A control room, Han'." Sanford grinned.

"-SAME DIFFERENCE! March!"

-0-0-0-0-0-

Sanford consistently checked the scans of his helmet's systems displaying the majority of the facility's internals- each time, he only came back with a few signals, some scattered synths, one or two human sigs'... There was a collection of Mutant sigs' in one chamber...

As Sanford and Hancock escorted their new captive, the once esteemed, now fallen Director of the Secession- Ordy -the young man found his eyes glued to this small patch of life towards the rear chambers of the labyrinth.

"...Ordy," Sanford nodded at the Director before them. "-Are these Super Mutants, I'm seeing?"

"...P-Part of the FEV and GARGANT programs, indeed..." Ordy sighed, to fearful to chance a glance over his shoulder, to avoid Hancock prodding him with his buzzsaw again.

"You're the reason the Mutants have been tearing up Boston, aren't you?"

"...I wasn't Director during the first civil wars..." Ordy shook his head. "Mutants escaped the facility multiple times beforehand."

"But you still restarted the program?"

"..."

"...My God, you- I can't- FINE, what's the GARGANT?"

"...GARGANT's an old United States military biological weapons platform that was to be used on China..."

"During Operation Dark Fox, I know."

"...Interesting, a-a fellow scholar?"

"I don't know."

"-T-Tell me, Sanford, where do you come from?"

"Nowhere. Keep walking."

-Interesting, wasn't he in this reversed role with the Deathclaw he was now trying to save, a month ago?

"...I see..." Ordy carefully stepped through the mountains of dead synths down the main, pylon-lined passage that Sanford and Laslar had had their duel in- Sanford wondered what had happened to the Superintendent in that moment, he didn't see a body anywhere.

"...How did you win a Deathclaw's loyalty?"

"-Asked from the guy who wanted to use her DNA to make monster soldiers? Fat chance, old man, fuck off and keep walking."

"...Very well..."

"-Hey! Sir! Picking something up!" Hancock interjected. "-THAT-A' WAY!"

"What is it?"

CKL-scchhmmms... -Suddenly, a big, burly, scabby wad of fur and muscle barreled out from behind a pillar a few feet into the center of the floor at the end of the passageway- it had a long head, with two tiny, fuzzy ears, and lifeless, gray eyes that got larger as they focused on the trio down the way.

Sanford stopped short, and Hancock did similar- Ordy was quaking inbetween the two of them, and he slowly started to back up.

"-L-Larry...?" He stuttered.

"-Larry? You named that thing?" Sanford cringed.

"-NO! NOT LARRY! WE'RE ALL DOOMED!" Hancock screamed at the top of his amplifiers, leaning forwards, before reclining and looking at Sanford. "-Who's Larry, again?"

"Your CELL mate..." Ordy reminded through grit teeth.

"-OH! That Larry! The one that stunk of copious feces and self-indigestion! I know that Larry! HEY! Lar-bear! FUCK YOURSELF!" The robot cried out.

"Oh, Han'..." Sanford raised his rifle.

"-Ya'll just love me, I know! INTO BATTLE!" Hancock primed his plasma gun.

The Yao Guai bear opened its flabby jaws and howled at them, its raspy cry echoing down the passageway- the bear thundered the floor with a quadruped sprint towards the two men and the robot.

Ordy gripped the sides of his head and cried out in fear- Sanford AND Hancock, both laughed at him, waited for the bear to step over a few of the corpses on the fringe of the mess they both had made during the fight with Laslar.

"Think he's had enough?" Sanford chuckled.

"-Affirmative! Let's kill it, for good' ole' times' sake!"

"I'm game."

"-HA! Haha! GAME-! Like hunting! You get the joke, sir-?! You know, like... Hunting, and... Game... And... I wish damnation on your soul."

PMPMPMPMPMPM

CLKCLKCLKCLK

-Twin cones of green and crimson fire lashed out, clipped into the Yao Guai's head, shoulders and chest- the beast drawled and whined, blood flecked out, spattered across the floor, a chunk of its forehead boiled away and one of its eyes imploded.

The mutated bear tripped over its front claws, the ground thudded, and it created a small divergence of avalanching bodies whilst the creature slid on its on face and shoulder across the floor the rest of the distance towards its intended victims.

sssssssSSSHHHHM-! -The body slumped to a halt right at Sanford's and Ordy's feet- and Sanford laughed whilst the Director jumped back, eyes wide, mouth agape, staring at the dead beast.

"...Piece of cake." Sanford admonished, switching coils on his gun.

"That was pathetic!" Hancock snapped, jabbing a meaty flank with his buzzsaw. "Can we cook him?!"

"No."

"-Come-ON! You're a fun-sucker!"

"Let's go, Director."

As the three of them bypassed the corpse of the bear, Ordy still couldn't take his eyes off of it- he pointed at the hip of the creature, to a small white chip tagged onto its fur, childishly, and meekly.

"...T-There's... The... The chip, Sanford... That's it..."

"I see it. Now let's go."

"...O-Okay..."

-They retraced much of the way that Ordy had shown Laslar through- and throughout the whole way, through the halls, the bulkheads, passing by chambers... There was not a soul, or a synth even, to be seen.

They eventually passed through the Synthetic Factoy that Laslar had gone through- and the whole time, Hancock made derogatory comments revolving around anorexia to the Gen-1 synths that dumbly passed the party, continuing their work, despite it being fruitless, and pointless.

Sanford debated shooting them, but he decided that would come in due time. He didn't really have the energy to focus on it.

Through the factory they went, with the Director as stone cold and quiet as ever, much to Sanford's relief- they passed through the little hallway that lead to the elevated walkway connecting the second level of the lift tube to this section of the facility.

Once more, Sanford was standing in the great space of the massive oval chamber that extended so any stories up- the whole time as he and his companions boarded the lift podium, he had his eyes locked to the swaying, green trees that were dotted in the little garden sections down on the first floor.

He thought they were amazing.

Of course, Ordy didn't even blink at them, seeing as he had been around them for so many years... And Hancock didn't give a crap anyway.

"...Where'd you get the trees?" Sanford asked, the lift whining, as the platform took the three of them higher, to ascend to another elevated walkway above the first one.

"We've kept those plants alive since the Great War." Ordy lamented. "...I fear we no longer will be able to after today."

"Sad."

"...It's heartbreaking."

"...Don't you think, what your synths have done throughout Boston, is heartbreaking?"

"I think it was wrong." Ordy shut his eyes, and sighed.

"But not heartbreaking?"

"...One of the most heartbreaking things I have ever partaken in."

"Not THE most?"

"...By far, no."

"...What did you do before you became Director here?" Sanford asked, looking around outside the podium as the lift took them higher and higher.

"I was a soldier."

"For whom?"

"...A-An... An army."

"What kind of army?"

"...Sanford," Ordy sounded like he was going to cry. "-If I can just prevent my wife from getting in, I would most appreciate helping you find your... Deathclaw... That I unrightfully stole from you, so I can carry on with my solitude away from here."

"...Sure."

"...Sanford,"

"Yep."

"...What do you do, up there?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do you do? Are you a mercenary? A soldier? Adventurer?"

"No."

"No?"

"I'm a scavenger."

"...Do pardon me," Ordy chuckled half-heartedly. "-But with everything I've seen of you, I find that awfully hard to believe."

"I don't know what to tell you."

"...You keep referring to the Deathclaw as your friend,"

"-Cause' she is."

"...Could you communicate with her?"

CSH-cmm -The lift jolted to a stop.

Sanford looked around at the elevation they sported- the glass slid open ahead.

"Let's go, Ordy."

"Right, yes."

The walkway up here was identical to the one below- and as Ordy and Hancock made for a small pill-shaped bulkhead at the end of the walk, towards the curved metal of the buttress tower along the great chamber's flank- Sanford gazed up at the tower's sprawling supports to the rounded ceiling, the windows lining a small strip just above the door.

He looked over the side of the walkway- and felt dizzy with the sheer height of the chamber below, the trees looked like they could fit in the palm of his hand.

"...Sanford?" Ordy called over as the bulkhead slid aside.

"...Coming." He glanced around some more and kept trotting.

Inside the tower was a brief lobby, they followed the Director straight ahead for a quick spiral stairwell of chrome metal- it lead to an open, rectangular chamber that sported the strip of aqua-tinted windows overlooking the walkway and gigantic chamber outside.

Beneath the windows were rows of flickering, active, shiny consoles littered with keypads, switches, buttons, readings screens and terminals...

"-These control the main sub-chamber's locking systems and security measures." Ordy explained, leaning over a console in the center- he sat up and glanced out the window, nudging to see the very bottom plaza below, he gazed at the center wheel bulkhead down there.

"...See that door, right there?" He pointed. "-Linda will have to break through that. She won't try another infiltration attack if the first one failed so spectacularly."

"Laslar did that?" Sanford looked over the Director's shoulder.

"Indeed he did." Ordy clicked a few keys. "-She's closer than I originally saw."

"How close? What does she have with her?"

"She's probably in her armor, I see maybe thirty Gen-X's moving down the tunnel with her."

"What if they break through the door?"

"If I can lock it, they won't be able to."

"You think this- 'Linda' -will just turn around if she can't get through the bulkhead?"

"...I-I'm... Going to try and talk to her..."

"...This plan is bullshit." Sanford shook his head. "We should wreck her synths and try talking to her then."

"-THAT'S the spirit, sir!" Hancock cheered. "I trained ya' well, I did! BREAK THEIR BALLS! ...Then negotiate!"

"-I'm trying to prevent further combat scenarios," Ordy clicked away at the console madly. "-I-If I can just override these passcodes Valerie put on here..."

"-Valerie?"

"My protege," Ordy huffed. "She's the one who turned the synths on you AND Laslar."

"Why's she pissed at you?"

"...Sanford, the only way you could've hacked our teleportation matrix, is if you found a machine inside the CIT Great Dome," Ordy paused. "-We could never remove it because it would... How to explain... Basically, seeing as Gengis routed it directly to the material of the matrix, it would've torn a hole in... The fabric of, reality? I suppose? Nothing good could come of it."

"...You're saying if you tried to just rip that thing out, it would make a black hole?"

"...A-A small one, maybe..." Ordy shrugged whilst typing.

"How do you know about Gengis?"

"He was Valerie's husband. See the connection?"

"...Well you set yourself up for that one, Ordy."

"No disagreements here."

"-Hey! Sir," Hancock gazed out one of the nearby windows to the plaza and trees. "-Didn't you have a tree just like that growing over your back yard?"

"...No, mine was an oak. -And how do you know, man? You've never seen a tree like THAT before I don't think..."

"-FINE! I wasn't interesed anyway! Go burn, monkey-man!"

"...Ordy?" Sanford reclined from the Director.

Ordy had stopped typing. He was looking at Sanford very intently.

"...D-Did you say... An Oak tree?" He asked slowly.

"...Yeah? Why?"

"...W-Was it, h-hanging over the fence, slightly? A-And the seed pods would always gather on just that- that one part of the lawn?"

"...How do you...?"

"...That... Was..." Ordy stood from the console, stepped towards Sanford. "...That was... Approximately... Two-hundred years ago..."

"...Who the hell ARE you?" Sanford looked the Director up and down. "...Answer me right now, WHO, are you?"

"...My God... Oh my God..."

Bmmmk!

-Echoing across the chamber, the wheel-sealed bulkhead down below suddenly thudded, and bulged at the very hinges.

Sanford was torn from looking at Ordy- he glanced out the windows over the consoles- saw steam building by the door down in the plaza below.

"-SHIT." He cursed. "-Ordy-! Lock the door! What are you doing?!"

"...Oh my God..." Ordy was just lost, raising his hands for Sanford's helmet. Sanford's eye twitched, he slapped away Ordy's arms, gripped him by the scruff of his shirt and coat, and tugged him close to the face of his helmet.

"-ORDY!" Sanford screamed in his face.

Ordy didn't even blink. Tears were running down his face.

"-USELESS!" Sanford tossed the old man back, where he stumbled onto and gripped the chin of the console for support. "-C'mon', Hancock, one more fight, and then we're out of here."

"-...B-But, sir, maybe we should-?"

"-NOW. C'mon! Let's kick their asses!" Sanford shoved out of the chamber, down the spiral stairs.

Hancock paused briefly before following him- his thruster igniting, zapping the robot away in the blink of an eye.

Director Ordy quivered like there was some invisible earthquake racking only his body and nothing else- he teared profusely, his jaw hung open, and he gradually started to curl up on himself in heaving sobs.

The old man slid to the floor of the chamber, started bawling, gripping his gray hair, shutting his eyes, and he just cried and cried.

He knew who this man was.

He knew who he was.

He knew.

He knew.

He just knew.

-0-0-0-0-0-

The lift took a full minute to reach the ground floor of the great entry chamber- the whole time, Sanford and Hancock were lowered in one crouch, and one depletion of engine power, to the floor of the podium on the opposite side of where the bulkhead below was facing them.

If whatever was breaking through it saw them in the ALL GLASS lift, it probably wouldn't be good. Sanford was just hoping the thing would move faster the whole time.

"...Sir? What happened back there?" Hancock asked next to him.

"Nothing happened." Sanford snapped readily. "Guy's out of his mind. Happens when you live underground and kill people, like him."

"...Sir..."

"-WHAT?" Sanford barked. "-I told you, he's a mal-fuckin' freak! And he's a murderer! I'll leave him here to rot!"

"...Sir, just to add in on that- if you really wanted him dead for the things he's done, you would've shot him! There and then!"

"...I should've..."

"-But that's the screwy part! You CAN'T!"

"...Because..."

"Because even I know who he actually is!"

"...Who he WAS..."

"-But Sanford! I mean- Holy Skunks Whacking under the Smoker-! You've been searching for twelve damned years! TWELVE! I've reset my filter core almost a hundred times during all that!"

"...I... I can't..."

"What?"

"I refuse to accept it."

"-Well-?! WHAT?! You can't refuse facts, Sanny'!"

"-There are no facts..."

"-I'm not sure I believe it myself!"

"...I... I don't know..."

"-Sir, not to increase the stress, even though me asking WILL,"

"...Yep?..."

"-What if you have to shoot her, sir?"

"..."

CHK-csmmm

skl -The glass slid aside, and Sanford slowly stood up, he and Hancock's gazes locked to the steaming, thudding, great bulkhead across the plaza ahead of them.

Sanford trotted out of the elevator podium, Hancock zipped over to his side, and the two heroes walced out into the plaza's flank, and they stood defiantly before the smoke-coughing door, which was rumbling, and kicking sparks with each impact.

bmmmm!

bmm!

bm-bm!

bmmm!

Sanford checked his scans.

On the other side of this door, those numbers the Director, or, Ordy, or... Whoever that... THING on the upper floors was, had pulled out of his ass- had now skyrocketed to tens, approaching sixty.

Hancock saw it too, but he was too busy priming his weapons, chambering missiles, testing the flame-licking nozzle of his thrower to pay any mind to it.

Sanford looked over at his mechanical friend that he come to break out, and had found him breaking out for himself anyway- and he leaned over and cuffed him with the elbow of his gauntlet.

Hancock stopped what he was doing and looked up at him with all three ocu-lenses.

"Yessir?"

"...You know something,"

"What's that, gorrila-man?"

"I think it is really, really, fuckin' cool, that you'll just stand here and... and fight with me, against all these odds."

"-Yeah, well, I'm just here for the glory!" Hancock dismissed with a wave of his saw. "Ya' have a knack for finding lots-a' shit to kill! Gotta' get a piece of that! HA!"

"Hancock,"

"WHAT?! Don't go all MELO-DRAMA on me, you Slapped-Grandpa!"

"You're a good friend."

"...Bah, humbug."

"If we die,"

"-IMPOSSIBLE-! But sure, I'll humor some morbid considerations!"

"-Just know, that going through all that hell of the wasteland with ya', it was something I would never give up for anything."

"-Best years- but also the most horrible years, kind of shit?"

"Exactly."

"I hear ya', Sanford, I hear ya'."

bmm!

bmmmm!

bmmmmm!

-The door splintered, metal shrieked, they both flinched when the wheel lock screamed and hung loosely off the center of the entry, black smoke was filtering from the hinges.

"Let's kick ass, buddy." Sanford grinned, holding his dual means of war in each gauntlet- the cutlass flickered to life.

"-YEAH-HA! Baby! GET SOME, COMMIE' FUCKERS!"

-Up above on the third level walkway, the stumbling form of Director Ordy stood idle at the top of the path, he looked down at the small ant-like forms of Sanford and Hancock.

The door tore more, sparks and an arm of flame.

-"SANFORD! NO!" Ordy cried down to them.

bmmmCRRRSSKKKKkk!

The door split open, flew off its hinges, and skittered away a flaming, broiling mess of illuminating amber and blackened soot- Sanford and Hancock shifted over even though the door was not an active threat to them.

No sooner did the entryway tear off, did five humanoid figures jump through the soot-filled archway.

Gen-2 synths, the bullet shields.

The plaza erupted in gunfire, laser bolts flickering all over the place- Sanford and Hancock chopped down synth after synth as they filed in in pairs, trios, quads- and their bodies kept stacking with each corpse that flopped or tossed down.

Arms, heads, legs were blown off- torsos imploded, chests were gouged ajar- sparks and electronic fragments flew everywhere.

Sanford just kept his gun leveled- he ignored a few blasts that glanced his suit, and he just kept firing in controlled bursts- Hancock loosed a single warhead, that careened over the plaza in a trail of soot, and imploded in the frame of the destroyed door, tearing asunder six synths and all the bodies they were climbing over.

As more Gen-2's clawed and ruthlessly tumbled over their fallen kin- lithe shapes flooded from not just the bottom of the frame, but the sides, and the top, in the tens- as Gen-X synths leapt out from the fiery tunnel beyond and started crawling all over the ceiling, the walls, in the trees, on the ground, and there were TENS of them, tens upon tens, upon tens.

Sanford and Hancock found themselves shooting up, to the sides, ducking and weaving as bodies hurled passed them from synths shot dead mid-leap. Sanford slashed, impaled, swiped, and Hancock ran his buzzsaw to eat through torsos and heads.

Suddenly, the plaza was not flashing with a gunfight, it was screaming and moving all its own with a great melee brawl as the Gen-X synths rushed and swarmed over the man and his robot.

Sanford decapitated thin heads, cut open torsos, screamed as he ran synths through to the hilt, and kicked or kneed them free of his blade. Hancock let his saw eat through individuals at one time, his flamethrower set some of them alight, where they tossed and convulsed on the ground as humanoid torches.

Hancock took an Ion shot in the back, and when he turned around and killed a whole cluster of synths with another warhead- it looked like a popping bubble made of bodies for just how many corpses clogged the explosive bloom in the middle of the plaza.

Sanford lost his gun after a few minutes- shots bounced off his armor, his head was tossed aside a few times with glancing hits- he tore open a synth's gut with his bare hand, stuffed a Pulse grenade into the sparking mess, kicked the body away, and watched another plumage of cadavers avalanche under a blue, staticy sphere of death.

They kept fighting, and fighting, and fighting- there were so many dead synths that the plaza looked black.

Back to back, Sanford and Hancock hacked away at anything that moved- Sanford head-butted, tore with his fingers, sliced with his sword. It was complete bedlam.

The wave just never stopped.

"-LINDA'!" -Came a shout, faintly, over all the noise and chaos.

The lift finished clunking still in the glass pod behind the two heroes whilst they withstood the tide- Director Ordy rushed out, swinging his arms repeatedly.

"-LINDA! STOP! IT'S HIM! YOU CAN'T KILL HIM! LINDA! STOP!"

Sanford hacked and hacked and hacked.

"-rrrrRRRAAGGH!" -CHSSKS! ZZZzzzzzz...

Sanford suddenly was graced with stillness.

A few more pieces of metal tumbled, the body he had impaled slid off his cutlass, and folded into the pile with a few hollow clanks.

There was now... Nothing. Silence. Quiet.

Sanford stood straight, he looked across the plaza, filled with an atrocious amount of dead synths, nearing or just past a hundred. There were bodies in varying levels of piling, sparking, some still twitching, belching smoke.

Sanford panted, standing in the epicenter with his robot, who hovered next to him, and appeared just as shocked to the sudden halt of offensive.

Like demigods, the two partners had staved off the largest melee fight they had ever participated in, in their lives.

-And then, the woman emerged from the blackened, sooty mess of the tunnel way's smashed, and broken doorframe.

She was flanked by a pair of Gen-2 synths, she was clad in a blackened jumpsuit that hugged a thin form, with thin arms, healthy thighs, ball-like shoulder joints- her head was concealed beneath a porcelain-like synthetic helmet, there were thin pauldrons of white on her upper arms, and hugging, spider-like gauntlets over the outward faces of her forearms.

A combat harnass wrapped over her waist and hips, two plates layered each side of her thighs, and ankle extensions covered her knees. A holo-blade was projected from a thin, black pillar protruding from a circular, shield-like port that covered her entire right forearm, and she gripped an Institute standard Laser pistol in the other hand, whose fingers were electronic, and prosthetic.

Sanford, Hancock, and now, Ordy, as he stepped beside Sanford- watched the approach of this woman, as her boots echoed throughout the gigantic chamber, she kicked through the corpses of her synths.

"...Sanford... It's good to see you after so long, or, I hear they call you- 'Ordy' -now, hm?" Linda snickered inside her helmet. "-Good to see some traits die hard. Where's your team, HONEY?" -She mocked.

"...T-They're dead..." Ordy croaked, his face red, puffy. "...W-What about yours, dear?"

"Dead."

"How?"

"Had my own internal conflict not too long ago, didn't see eye to eye..." Linda looked at Sanford, and Hancock. "-You brought outsiders to defend you? A ragtag army? Low."

"-HEY! Nobody calls me 'Ragtag'- you thin-mint BITCH!" Hancock barked.

"Shut up." Sanford panted. "-Y-Your name's... Sanford..." He looked over at Ordy.

Ordy suddenly smiled up at him, and then he smiled at Linda, who looked taken aback.

"-What's so FUNNY, Sanford?" She snapped.

"...H-HIM..." Ordy pointed at the X-01 suited man. "-H-He's funny..."

"Who is he? Common rabble with a nice toy?"

"...L-Linda... H-His name's... SANFORD... His name's Sanford TOBS... I... I... L-Look at him, L-Linda, LOOK at him..."

Sanford looked between the two Directors.

He looked out across all the bodies, and when he turned back to them- Linda had her helmet off, and she dropped it, and it clattered among all the bodies and rolled away.

There was a frail face underneath all that wargear- her face, wrinkled, her hair, still long and curly, but now grayed heavily- she blinked blue eyes at Sanford, and her mouth was shut tightly, her lips quivering.

"...T-Take off that helmet..." She asked lowly, almost whispering. "-W-Whoever you are, take that helmet off."

Sanford looked between them again.

He looked at Hancock, who, for once, was too... INTO the moment, he guessed, to interrupt with further nonsense.

Sanford huffed his shoulders, his mind so overloaded that he couldn't even fully comprehend what was happening to him at his moment.

Quivering, and shaking, like he was cold- through all the exhaustion, the anger, the mourning, the adrenaline- Sanford Tobs put his weapons on his hips, and he reached up, tentatively working the helmet to slide it off his head.

csk-sssssssss... -After the hiss of decoupling- he lowered the headgear by his side, cradled it one-armed, and turned to gaze at the Directors back and forth, back and forth, unblinking, mouth an unreadable line.

Ordy brought up his hand to chew at his knuckles.

Linda almost tripped over all the debris around her as she stumbled over, the hand not taken by the shield-like barrier over her left arm reaching up, shaking.

Sanford blinked at her, and the suit creaked as he lowered himself a bit, to her level, he shut his eyes when he felt a cold, icy palm caress and rub onto the side of his cheek. Linda was turning red as a beat, she was crying.

Ordy was crying.

Sanford felt like crying, but he did not.

"...Mom..." He nodded at Linda. He glanced over at Ordy, who was about to start bawling again. "-...Dad."

...So was this world worth saving?

He didn't know anymore.

-0-0-0-0-0-