That damn Chosen Mutant wasn't the one that did him in. There was no conceivable way the weak little Mutie could have done him in, even with the help of the turrets and his own men. However, during their fight, each laser from the Chosen's gun or bullet from the turrets that should have bounced off, barely leaving a dent, hit like a mini-nuke. Feeling as if a behemoth decided to jump on his chest.
He'd be damned if a Deathclaw could even put a scratch on him, let alone some pathetic little Mutie. But here he is, hovering over his split-in-two body and imploded head as that little wimp took his Plasma Gun and looted his corpse. All the while, his worthless, mutant-siding men stood by and watched, even cheering as his corpse bled onto the ground. He knew those bastards were up to no good with how they galavanted around; Mutie fucks. The lot of 'em probably chock full of radiation, changed by the F.E.V in the wastes.
A thrum behind him finally grabbed his attention. A divine existence settled on my ghastly shoulders. I didn't even have to turn around to know it was that damn God that boy Graham always blabbered about, ready to cleanse the wastes with his holy fire. As if; he definitely wasn't any god of mine. As I turned around, the presence only grew grander. The Man himself had finally appeared before my eyes, solidifying my death… or rather, it had appeared before me, if the amalgamation was even a thing.
It looked as if every conceivable concept and creature had blended together. Its ethereal voice screamed through my head, shaking the spiritual plane as even my enhanced eardrums popped under its incomprehensible weight. Visions of the universe and life before the Great War flooded my mind. It was beautiful, the pinnacle of what the Enclave could have achieved if that damn Mutant hadn't come here.
"It was fated; The Chosen One would win no matter what you threw at him. A meteor could have fallen and wiped out New California, but the Chosen One would have still achieved his goal." My mind focused on the first sentence that The Man had said. FATED! All the training I had gone through, each enhancement I suffered, all the power I held, useless. What type of bullshit Mutie is destined to kill FRANK FUCKING HORRIGAN!
"Fate has written this story. He is fated to find the G.E.C.K, clean the wasteland of many enemies to his people, and unite the two bloodlines to form the city of New Arroyo." I was speechless at what that Mutant was meant to achieve. Not stunned at the greatness of it but the sheer stupidity.
To form a proper city in this God-forsaken wasteland was some pathetic dream. In the end, it would all crumble. As long as a single mutant or enemy to the great United States lived, no solid foothold would last. His rage was only amplified by this thought. He had died for some Chosen prick to make a doomed city full of uncivilized tribal mutants. HE DIED FOR SOME CITY OF GARBAGE!
"Should it please you, you must realize that every advantage was held by you. Even while being sabotaged, you had the power and ability to win. To win and horribly crush the Chosen One, but it was not meant to be."
It did not please me.
"But worry not; Fate has dictated that you would lose even though you should have won. As such, a karmic repayment is in order." He wanted to kill all mutants and revive America. He would have tried to wake himself from this Mutie-infested nightmare if he knew his Power Armor wouldn't let him sleep or be unconscious at any moment.
"However, karma may crush your hopes. As life goes on, your deeds are added and factored into one's life after death. The wanton genocide, slaving, pillaging, and your contribution to human experimentation adds up. Karma would condemn you to a life of suffering, even if your repayment was accounted for." It is truly magnificent. I die without fulfilling my goal of helping the Enclave because it is dictated, and my repayment for being a pawn is a life of suffering. I die, I earn nothing, and I'm sent to rot as some no-good, useless, disgusting, shit-eating Mutie scum. I could never worship beings so consumed by their own incompetence.
"However, Chance, Luck, and Karma have elected you to fight for another world as a way to repent, to pay back the wrongs you have wrought. A world desperate for help as it crumbles in the face of civil war and the ever-present threat of monsters, of Grimm." The Man continues, belittling all I've done as he speaks of another world. My work means nothing, serving the president, killing in the name of the Enclave, even dying to some Chose Piece of Shit, and I'm chosen to fight again… "Are these monsters even a threat to me?" Doubt tinges my voice.
Fighting Deathclaws couldn't even get a rise out of me anymore. No Mutie, Behemoth, or Mirelurk Queen could get my heart pumping. "Even the weakest of this world could be compared to a well-armored Super Mutant, with the strongest beyond any creature or man you could ever fight on your world, yourself included." My fingers shake as my eyes grow wide, adrenaline flooding my system. A fight, I haven't had a good fight in a while, and beasts stronger than me to boot. That Mutie didn't count. Backed by the power of fate, it wasn't a fight at all. I was never going to win; pathetic.
"Well, why didn't you say so! Get a move on and send me over already!" Adrenaline and combat drugs flowed through my veins. I was pumped, ready to beat the shit out of some of these little creatures. "A caveat must be said. You cannot fight the local Humans or Faunus. Nor provoke them to fight you. You are there to help them slay these beasts. Your mind's strength will be restored to a state before the experiments and F.E.V with your memories and personality intact. However, your armor will be revoked, merged with this new world's solution to these Grimm, a power you must work to obtain. Now go, and work with the people to end these beasts and save the world!"
Only one thought flashed through my head as my visage started fading. What the hell is a Faunus? Probably another damn Mutie.