[Finished scanning inventory. New object found.]
[Adult Card added to list in inventory]
That's another sip from my vault-thirteen canteen… My last drink of water.
How long had it been? This had definitely been a long night... I couldn't actually recall the hours I had spent since I started walking, no matter how hard I tried. The monotonous scenery hadn't changed one bit since I started my journey - just endless stretches of sand and rocks from far as I could see. I had yet to come across landmarks or settlements to restock my supplies, and only the few plants I had encountered bore not a single fruit on them. Really, I kept my prayers hard to spot some banana yuccas or gourds around, but nada.
I couldn't really stop and eat, not when there wasn't any place to take shop and rest that wasn't getting myself grilled once the sun rose. So, a box of dried noodles and meat jerky was what I was gorging on while I pulled my gear.
"And that was Lonesome and blue by the Stanley brothers. Citizen of the NCR, this has been a fine start to our afternoon with a bit of Americana to before going back to work. Remember, it's our duty to secure a better future. We didn't build Shady Sands without hard-work. Next is President Wendell Peterson will now deliver a message to the people of San Francisco and the boys and girls heading to Arizona to join the frontline against the techno-fascists Brotherhood of Steel and the recent surrender of former scientist Victor-…" Bah, I'm not feeling like hearing about politics right now, not until I'm there to deal with it myself. I turned the knob to another station instead. I still need a level head and music is right now what's keeping me sane.
More guitar riffs play instead. "Out in the West Texas town of El Paso, I fell in love with a Mexican girl." Ahh, some Marty Robbins campfire songs to continue. Always love me some cowboy ballads on the road.
It was times like those that I grimaced at the fact that I took my cars for granted. I found myself sighing longingly as I reminisced about my old, rusty four-door car that I had bought from a mechanic in Modoc and had later turned into a kamikaze with timed explosives intending to ram a hideout belonging to the Jackals.
Or the beaut Highwayman passed down to me from an old shaman in New Arroyo. Real looker she had been when she was working, tough as nails too. Built to last. As the previous owner had prided her on saving his skin in his own travels as I heard and it showed on the numerous metal plates installed and spikes added to her. It was pretty rad that she had the old tally of how many scorpion and jackal gangs she had killed painted on the hood.
Unfortunately, it had taken one too many by a mortar fire while I was crossing back to the West-coast from Utah. Woe unto me to have stumbled on my lonesome upon a Caesar's raider camp. It's understandable upon seeing my surprise appearance that they look pissed, I would too if someone unannounced waltz right into my camp, and I barely dodge the first spear aimed at my car. Without thinking, I plow through their tents and brahmins, even taking some of those psychopaths down with me crossing the Provo river.
After stopping at the settlement near Hoover Dam for a check-up, it was disheartening to find out that there was nothing that could be done to fix it. Even the four-eye I met, who had once been a part of the Enclave, couldn't save it.
For some reason, leaving the highwayman had felt like I had done something unforgivable. But I knew it was just a car, and it was bound to break down, eventually. I don't think I could or should let them see my face ever again in New Arroyo again.
But, man, I really miss them and their gas-guzzling engine purring right now, sitting comfortably behind the wheels, cruising for miles with the radio blaring. What I wouldn't do to get them back and treat them like royalty and respect right now.
As I kept on walking, something caught my attention, and I suddenly stopped in my tracks. "Hold on, this wasn't Vault City," I exclaimed in utter awe.
My eyes widened as I took in the magnificent sight before me. Then there was that feeling of wanting to get a closer look as I dropped the ropes and took out my binoculars, and it just gave me an enormous wave of feeling insignificant in comparison, just by the sheer size of the city. The feeling was different than what I experienced while walking through the ruins of pre-war cities. Unlike them, boneyards were left to rot and fought over by raiders.
The metropolis looked a sight to behold, surpassing even Vault City or New Arroyo in its advancement. It outright beat years of what Vault eight or Vault thirteen had accomplished by a long mile. Wherever I looked, I saw numerous skyscrapers soaring high into the heavens, their towering presence serving as a rebellious act against the gods.
The vibrant lights of the city that light up the sky as if to represent a middle finger. As if to say that life will continue to persevere, no matter what.
How could I have missed this place? How come nobody ever told me of this paradise!? Last I check, there aren't any settlements around that are this… untouched by the bombs.
It's like stumbling upon a hidden gem in a vast ocean of rubble is the feeling in myself right now. I just inadvertently came across the prospector's gold right here.
My smile widened, reminiscent of the first time I had arrived to meet real living people that aren't robots or automatons, and felt the warmth of the sun on my skin after leaving Tibbets.
What the hell?
As I looked down, I notice a whirl of sand developing itself at the foot of my boot. Gah, where the hell did ya' came from, little scamp? I slammed my boot down before anymore sand coats the leather. Following its source, I turned to see a gust of wind coming from behind. As I traced the wind's path, I soon realized that was being introduced to a massive wall of sand approaching me. This unrelenting force swallowed any plantlife or stones that cross its path with its large dusty maw.
Oh, from there…
Maybe I could gawk like an idiot later. I didn't take a second longer before I hasten my pace to a brisk walk, hearing the almost pattern-like sound of the sand crunching under my boots in quick succession as I picked up the speed to reach any of the buildings. I sling the rope over my shoulder and pushed myself to pick up the pace, feeling the strain in my arms.
Although it was only a slight improvement, I payed my rough grunts no mind much and continued to pull my sled of goodies along behind me. As I trudged through the sandy terrain, my eyes remain fixed on the dilapidated buildings and deserted homes ahead.
They seem like my best chance of weathering out this storm.
…
Crash!
Hmmm… place looks empty so far. Sand thickly coats parts of the ground. A large hole is opening up from the second floor to the second floor. The place had been stripped bare of anything of value, only left behind the old wooden chairs and table. No signs of life, or there were once a long time ago.
This place must not have been lived in for years now. Even for squatters too..
Well, this is as good as any, not that I'm picky about where I sleep. Caves, pre-war ruins with varying stages of structural integrity, questionable bunkers that whisper several disembodied voices to me every three minutes - I've roughed in for many nights. I could never really find myself any right to make a fuss where I sleep when a fleet of robots were out to get me - and also the reason why I can't sleep at any settlements at all.
As I step on the fallen door, I hauled my gear inside and nestled them into a secluded corner, ensuring I tucked away from any crevices or gaps for the sand to seep inside.
So this place is a paradise.
The first thing on my mind was rummaging through the containers of that place. As I opened one of the last cupboards, a cloud of dust rose, making me cough. Among the grime, a lone toaster lay abandoned. Even a spider had made its home as cobwebs coated the appliance.
Not hard to admit I feel a bit disappointed I couldn't scrounge anything of value or use.
I let out a heavy sigh and slump onto a nearby chair. My shoulders sag listlessly with disappointment.
My eyes wandered to the window, seeing the violent sandstorm happening outside. Jeez, the sandstorm outside is just as harsh as the one surrounding that casino resort…
Hell, this sand storm is almost starting to remind me of my time in Sierra Madre chasing the rogue crazed Circle of Steel members from doing something there, like weaponizing the cloud. The long-term use of stealth-boys had a devastating effect on the operatives, causing them to become schizophrenic and hear voices that constantly warned them of an "eminent betrayal from within". Meaning from inside their own organization.
Despite their elder's attempts to disband the unit and reassure them that their fears were unfounded, it only further confirmed their delusions, leaving them trapped in a never-ending cycle of suspicion and fear until they finally splintered off and went on their own.
To the Sierra Madre, their new home.
If the devil himself were to decide to build a resort, they would have hit it out of the park with this one. This hidden gem is in an obscure part of Arizona. A land so deadly that no caravan or human settlers have dared to venture there, not even the Bear itself, leaving the place to rest in peace on its lonesome. Its culture and bloody history it desperately hides inside its ruined walls forever to be taken to its sandy grave.
That was until the Circle came, and I followed. The first time I went there, just getting to the damn resort was miserable of an experience. The frequent sandstorm made it impossible to go further that the deeper you try, the more violent the wind gets that one could almost fly off the ground, in my case, for my car not to break down for a few miles in. Sand and a strange black gunk easily build up inside the engine to just outright stop.
That was just the beginning of my agony. Oh no. The real party was happening inside the ruined villas and the empty resort itself.
I saw hell clawing their way unto the Earth that day.
The ghostly figures that lurked around the corner of my eye made me paranoid at every shadow. The pungent smell of the poison clouds hung heavily in the air. Never failed once to make me choke. Especially if the cloud is thick enough to congeal into an unfamiliar dark substance that sticks on the walls and floors. That's how bad it can get.
I always felt that god had abandoned me when I step inside its gates. Repulsed at my actions of entering such debauchery of sins long before the bombs fell and their spirits forever stalk its halls, to once more repeat the bloody cycle of violence within its luxurious facade of pre-war opulence and technology. Just the feeling of fear and dread never left me when I cautiously made my way through the labyrinthine paths around the villas that made the task of navigating more difficult through the traps, obstacles and the occasional ambushes set behind by the Circle of Steel and the ghost people. All the more dangerous that I left most of my gear behind.
I truly pity the scavenger who finds it and tries to strike rich off the remains. However, luck was on my side as I stumbled upon the vault and managed to loot it, purely by chance.
Now that could be a novel story published for a quick buck or caps right there… The heist of the centuries. Too bad in the end, I found out gold was practically useless after the fact since no-one has the NCR bucks or caps to barter it with. I guess Christine Royce and Devon Hill got the last laugh in the end inside that vault.
At least. Poison isn't something I have to worry this time around. Chapped lips still do, though. Sadly, nothing I could do about it except ration the Nuka cola I had left.
The next logical step I decided to take was to set up security inside the house at that time. So, I set up armed explosives around any openings like holes on the wall, doorframes, and windows using shrapnel mines half-buried under the sand and such as a welcome mat for any intruders. My hoarding problems seemed to prove itself to be paying off.
After that's done, throughout the remainder of the night, I then worked on breaking the wooden boards and chairs into chunks to start a fire. I situated it next to an open window. In addition, a tin of cram sits near to be heated up. I could already smell the century year old mystery meat simmering in its radioactive juices from here. While I sat back to fiddle around on something while my dinner was cooking.
That something was the toaster I had found, and I was breaking down for parts. When you're on the run and being chased by a fleet of robots who would do anything to snatch you, being fast and on your feet was important to make distances between them. That was why it had been crucial to have spare scraps on hand, even if they were rusted. In my experience, you can never have too many.
One could never have expected that the humble rusty spring of a toaster would unexpectedly become a critical replacement for their firearm's main spring needed to shoot in a life or death situation.
As I successfully opened the panel, I was suddenly greeted by the numerous sound of clinking. I hastily looked down and saw myself looking at a pile of around twenty to thirty pieces of 50. BMG rounds rolling around. The sight left me bewildered for a moment as I observed the lead pile glittering under the moonlight.
Who keeps their bullets in a toaster?
It's wild to imagine that someone out there thought they would choose a toaster as a cache for ammunition of all other places they settled at this. I took one last gaze at the kitchen application and to whoever planned this out. I must salute them.
Rather ingenious that it worked after all this long. I would have genuinely missed this if I wasn't looking for spare parts. Well… more for me.
…
"Then, what will I do? Maybe you'll sit and sigh,"
As the sandstorm gradually subsided, I enjoyed my can of cram without any worries that evening topped with a battle of Rotgut I've been saving for a celebration and a puff of cigarette. A city like this… No questions is a cause to celebrate.
My own begin again.
While my pip-boy played a slow song in the background as I gazed out at the distant lights of the city.
"Then maybe you'll ask me to come back again and…"
"Maybe I'll say maybe,"
…
"彼女はそこだ！" Huh?
What the?
"おい、戻ってこい！"
The piercing yells from afar jolted me awake, and I let out an exasperated groan. Sounds like a fight is about to start… As I slowly came to my senses, the sight of morning light entering through the window greeted me, casting a ray of glow across the room. With a heavy sigh, I sat up, feeling the stiffness in my neck and shoulders from sleeping in an awkward position.
I tentatively reached out to take hold of my binoculars on the ground. While doing so, I also retrieved a special gift in my stash from an old unit of the Desert Rangers. My sudden discovery of the .50 BMG round stash was just a pleasant surprise for her to see some action again. Costs me a pretty shiny cap to buy a single one of these things. So, this little gift box is a treat for me.
I made a quick run up the stairs where a window presented itself as a perfect candidate for my sniper's next. Perfect vantage point from down the road as I load the magazines with the rounds and loaded up the rifle.
Let's see if she still has what it takes.
A semi-auto Anti-Materiel rifle. Barret M82. Covered in scratches, bore its original stamped name from before the bombs as a testament of its manufacturer's reputation. The story goes that the rifle was originally owned by a tech-worshiping priest, and it eventually made its way into the possession of several Desert Rangers over the years. The first ranger who stumbled upon the weapon was intrigued and purchased it for an undisclosed sum of caps. Judging by my first time firing this beast, it's gone to be a lot of caps on the table during that deal.
Once I peered through the sniper's scope at a group of figures standing by the road. A distinct separation was evident, with a lone individual opposing several others. One faced off against twelve. An unfair fight. As I adjusted my focus, the scene came into clearer view.
Too clear, in fact, I felt something off about it. Huh, hold on a minute…
They… were short? What in the world was I looking at?
Strange circles hovered over their heads. Could they have been halos? I remembered grabbing something similar from Big Mountain. Then, they were wearing peculiar, colorful costumes that I had seen. Helmets… raiders? They looked too clean to be raiders. Maybe they're a gang?
Practically all of them couldn't have possibly been wearing such pristine clothing. Not something a raider gang would bother to go through.
Hold on a minute... They're just kids. The realization hit me like a bolt out of the blue. I paused for a few moments, trying to process the thought. Suddenly, I knew what I had to do. With a determined resolve, I turned around and headed back downstairs.
Kids do the darndest things to entertain themselves. Playing dress-up and what not.
Like when they made fun of me for looking European, because the people over the ocean were apparently whiny, weak-willed cowards who couldn't stand to look at a corpse of a child without screaming bloody murder back in the day. I didn't even know what a European looked like, nor do I think even the kids knew what a European was.
Again, the darndest things.
As I continued walking, I suddenly heard gunshots in the distance. The sound pierced my ears and seemed to be coming from the direction where the kids were. Without hesitation, I quickly turned back and peered through my binoculars. What I saw was the group ganging up against the lone fighter as gunfire lit up the streets.
In a second, I mantle my rifle once more and adjust my scope at one of the helmet gang. Lined my shots and all will be over. But my hands trembled the whole way as I slowly forced my finger to squeeze the trigger. I see someone taken cover over some road barriers as bullets continue to chip away at her only protection as she raised her firearm over to take potshots.
I really tried, but I couldn't. I just pushed myself away from the rifle, heaving. I can't kill a kid… I ain't a kiddie killer!
My heart raced and my breathing was heavy as I tried to calm down. My hands still trembled as the adrenaline coursed around inside of me. I couldn't believe that I had almost pulled the trigger on a child, even if they were a member of some gang.
They clearly ain't BB guns, by the sounds of it, that's for sure…
But I gotta do something…
…
"You think you can just roll up to our hangout spot and rob us, Abydos punk?!" shouted one of the helmet gang members, unloading an entire magazine from her assault rifle at said punk in hiding.
This had been a bad time to take a small trip around Abydos district, as Sunaookami Shiroko flat out admitted. As much as it nagged her to have to seek cover from fire coming from multiple directions. Even though she had an urge to retaliate of her own, but ahh… A pat on her blazer's front pockets reminded her… She was running dry on mags.
Bummer…
"If it's so valuable to you, then you should have looked after it harder." Shiroko straight-faced answered. Not even a taunt, a jab or anything ill intent. She meant, you truly believe in something that is important to you. It would be wise to keep it close to your chest rather than in your wallet. Or inside a box labeled "stolen goods".
A real bummer for her if the hard worked she put in her share in helping her friends out if it were only to be taken by the helmet gang. She eyed up the comically large sack that was her hard work with a small hole revealing shiny cards inside. She worked really hard to… acquire them.
"Nn. A shame." She sighed.
"Come on out and face us!"
Despite the direness of her situation, she remained stoic and headstrong. This had been evident in her unrelenting poker face, unflinching even as a massive barrage of bullets had their way into wrecking her cover with small chunks of debris flying by. A real team player remains calm in bad places. Always have a plan.
That her plan being a rotor-drone resting inside her bag that she pulled out and was about to release until… her furry ears on twitches.
A piercing guitar riff, amplified by the surrounding buildings, suddenly filled the air. The slow and steady rattle close to a snake hunting accompanied its reverberations, drowning out all the gunfire. The sound was so deafening that it brought both parties to a complete stop in their skirmish, leaving them all in a state of confusion. Even Shiroko herself feeling of tension and uncertainty weighed heavily on her and everyone present.
Suddenly, it was followed by a melodic roar of gunfire, eliciting yelps from the helmet gang, one followed by another. The once confident atmosphere was now filled with surprise and panic among the helmet gang until a deafening silence prevailed once again.
"Gah!?" One voice Shiroko heard gasped.
While one helmet gang member screamed, "Let's get out of here, she has friends!"
Hmmm... Shiroko had a feeling that something wasn't right.
That caliber... she thought, was definitely fired from a large round. There's only one person I know who could have such high caliber ammunition in their arsenal. However, the firing wasn't a long, continuous automatic fire. I observed that the shots fired were more like a rapid semi-auto. Six shots before a momentary delay proceeding to the next.
Yet, above all her suspicion, she still expected her friends to call out to her by now, as they usually do when they save one another from gunfights. Shiroko heard nothing as the chaos subsided. Instead, the lone Abydos student could hear the sound of metal clanking as she tentatively emerged from her concealed position with her [White Fang] Assault rifle still drawn, hoping to catch a glimpse of her mysterious stranger.
After the entire ordeal had happened, the guitar riffs played for the last time. A more somber note as the dust finally settles.
Shiroko paused once more until the music played to its slow, enigmatic conclusion. However, she never quite managed to catch a glimpse of them as they vanished in the blink of an eye before she could spot any such figure. They appeared as they slipped away.
Fast and aggressive.
Amazing… she thought.
Oh, and she noticed that some of the helmet gang members were frantically fleeing the scene with their busted firearms in hand. She couldn't help but notice more of the large bullet holes in their weapons. The evidence of the mysterious stranger's work. She did also enjoy watching them run with their tails tucked between their legs, crying over the distance.
The last thing she heard from the helmet gang was, 'We'll get you for this!'"
A shame she didn't get to thank them.
"Mm…"
For now, she then hopped back onto her bicycle and continued her merry way to school, carrying the comically large sack of her "hard work" over her shoulder as the Abydos student sped off.
There was no mistake. She wanted really hard to find the person, but at the moment, she got classes to attend to. Yet part of her was still hoping that she would get another chance to encounter and hopefully meet the mysterious stranger once more.
Maybe in different circumstances.
….
Strange revolver indeed… Never really could find where that music keeps coming from… I don't think I'll ever will.
I can't help but wonder what the father of that kid in Montana did to create such a revolver… that flips the middle finger at logic itself to a single .44 magnum shoot like a condensed explosive yield of a fat-man and a little-boy combine. And the fact that it plays music when it's pulled out from its holster and vice versa.
Hope the kid is doing better now with his mama in San Francisco than in Montana, being a musical star playing live and at NCR radio stations.
A wild gift, this was. Until the need for it in firefights arises, it will remain holstered till then.
After watching the peculiar individual ride away on her bicycle, I proceeded to gather and retrieve some of the casings that remained and set out on my own. A lot of 5.56mm, some 12 gauge and .45 acp…
No doubt once I get the equipment to set up a reloading bench, I'll already have these puppies put to good use
…
Robots walking on the sidewalk didn't really surprise me. I had been to a hidden city in Denver that was filled with robots before. Refugees centuries ago when robots scourge the wasteland, but a few who remained their programming to resist the new order to terrorize humanity and helped the Desert Rangers. Or as the story goes.
Their leader, an A.I supercomputer, even asked me to turn over the Odysseus A.I so that they could imprison it. That was also where I purchased my other amenities and implants, aside from Big Mountain.
A talking dog standing on their hind legs also didn't shock me. I once heard a brahmin speak. "Moo, I say." and a family of talking albino deathclaw that taught me a thing or two about radiation.
Guess I'm just numbed to the weirdness during my travels.
Holy shit, those might actually say more about me than the weird haloed people.
As I walk through the bustling streets of this town, I can't help but feel like a sore thumb sticking out. A desperado looking for trouble in a foreign town that has both English and Asian words on their billboards. I felt like I didn't belong here at all. Could this place be another settlement for the Shi? Those people were always eggheads inside their temples.
I made an effort to blend in by wearing the most inconspicuous clothes that I had brought with me. My rugged duster hiding Desert Ranger ballistic armor underneath and black Vaquero hat stood in stark contrast to the locals' flamboyant attire. More… colorful, like there wasn't a care in the world for them. Their clothes are clean, they are clean. Hell, even the streets here are cleaner than the capital NCR city.
As I navigate through the throngs of people, I can feel their curious stares and hear their whispers.
Now I'm actually considering taking the back alleys…
I took a sharp turn into an alleyway and ventured further into the city, drawn by that beacon in the sky. As I made my way there, avoiding any large crowds and taking advantage of the alleyways for cover and detours. Those people with halos, some with wings, some with heads on their head soon gradually replaced the walking robots and talking cats and dogs as I made my way closer to the beacon.
What a strange radiation effect they had. Not too much to become ghouls, but enough to give them these strange mutations, as I observed.
Huh, I would've made a joke about dying and going to heaven… Except if it weren't for the guns they carry is what's stopping me.
…
While I was wandering through the alleys during my adventure, at some point I suddenly heard panicked screams drowned out by gunfire that made me stop in my tracks.
"みんな走れ！" I heard someone yell from the streets.
Alright, I'm sure that was definitely Asian. Alright now, I wish I agreed with Xian to go with me back at Bloomfield.
What the hell… How did I end up in Asia? Is it common for Asian people to have halos on their head and talk with dogs? Or Is that something these people do now after the war?
Without Xian around to translate for me, it's probably best that I activate my implants. Oh, god. This is gonna hurt.
Inside my head, I kick-started a certain neural implant that offers a real-time text and voice translation capability on the side. Curtesy of the A.I from that robot city for helping them with the Tibbet's A.I mess. I didn't originally want a piece of metal inside my head, but after the ahh… whole Big Mountain debacle that happened and me being knocked out with sleeping gas. I changed my mind and had it installed inside me.
Soon, a sharp pain ran through my head as the foreign words slowly formed into something familiar.
"Kyaa! It's a tank! Everyone for themselves!"
Oh… just a tank… I started walking away.
Before pausing. A tank!?
As the people ran away, they passed by where I hid behind a dumpster. I overheard the rattling of the tank threads getting closer as various people's face masks ran past down the street.
Oh, come on… First the helmets now facemasks with a tank!? What kind of place just hands kids firearms!?
Well, none of that matters. This place is fucked. Where are the military police, the troopers to stop this?
The sound of the engines roared like thunder. As I gazed ahead, my eyes met with a colossal armored tank painted in a blend of drab brown and regular brown camo; demolishing a fountain at the plaza that crossed its path with its cannon, launching debris around. The ground trembled with the impact.
I looked down and pulled out the scrap tin of the cram I had for dinner last night and smirked.
Yeah… I think I could take that on…
Once more trouble had presented itself and here I was about to walk into when I could just avoid all of it.
…
"Fubuki, should we retreat now?" Asked one of her colleagues.
Oh, she would most likely want to retreat by now, considering they are facing overwhelming manpower and firepower that make it difficult to contend against tanks if that wasn't obvious. The fight is practically a lost cause. Only a matter of minutes before the tank reaches them; their numbers would have already tenderized by the waves of delinquents all ready for the tank to finish her and her colleagues off.
So, yes, they have a pretty shiny reason to take a tactical retreat and rendezvous once at full force. Well, maybe sit back and wait for the mess to be over at a nearby donut shop.
She wants to, but… Being assigned to hold the line and wait for reinforcements just had to call her in. She knew she should've had turned off her radio by then. Too late now. The first reinforcements already came and her partner was off stalling the waves of delinquents. Somehow.
This is beginning to be quite troublesome for her.
For the moment, she leaned against the sandbags placed in the middle of the road, deep in thought. While munched on some donut to keep herself somewhat conscious of being bored.
"Don't worry, my partner has a plan to - Ahh, Milenium, Justice, and Trinity have finally sent their representatives. Nice of you to join the party. Been kind of slow." Fubuki greeted the group with a lopsided smile and proceeded to take a bite of her donut.
"Fubuki of Valkyrie Academy?" One of the girls with black hair and wings called out to her. She looked and talks preserved, keeping calm like her. She respects that, respects her for it.
"That's me." Fubuki answered with a raise of her hand.
Strange… It was the usual time when someone would start nagging Fubuki for not doing a good job, just as she had anticipated to happen.
"Is this all what you have done?" The purple one with a ponytail who looked like she was about to explode prodded a question, cocking her brow with a nasty look down at her. And there it was. "The Crusader tank has already gone four blocks down and breached a plaza."
"Hey, could you cut us some slack? We're not psychics here to have predicted they'd manage to hijack a tank from Trinity?" Fubuki sounded off without any deliberation. It was rare for her to get this irritated, late alone, almost grow prone to anger that the Valkyrie students paused for a moment, looking at the scene, before returning to reinforce their makeshift outpost.
Once again, Fubuki finished off yet another delicious donut while the trio gaped at her in astonishment. However, she paid no heed to their thoughts and casually grabbed another to top herself off a nearby box, giving it a pat before lifting it up to discover that it was already empty. Without a second thought, she tossed it away.
For a sudden coincidence, a delinquent wearing a face mask appeared over the sandbags and was about to let loose her machine gun, but a box struck her in the face, causing her to recoil back with everyone drawn their respective firearms at the criminal. This opportunity allowed some Valkyrie police to apprehend her quickly..
"Besides, we're holding the line. Pretty tiresome if you ask me, but someone has to lead the defense…" Fubuki continued reluctantly, muttering under her breath. "It might as well be my me." Unfortunately, she thought.
"Everyone, on guard!" barked the girl from the Justice Task Force, her voice full of authority. She readied her rifle, aimed and took cover behind the sandbags, with others following suit.
"As long as we focus our fire on the tank, the rest will scatter. I'll go on ahead and try to lure their attention with my shield. It should be enough for all of you to do some considerable damage. Watch your fire. Once I used up my shield, I'll need cover fire to find somewhere to recuperate." The girl with purple hair joined the trio, all of whom started nodding at each other. She then hopped over the barrier and took out a device from her jacket. Without hesitation, she sprinted towards the tank.
…
As I trailed the tank at a distance towards ending at a plaza with using the alley-ways, my pip-boy alerted of a potential danger through my implants. Simultaneously, my own intuition kicked in and I sensed an individual sneaking up on me. Swiftly, I spun around, gripping my [Bison Bull] revolver tightly, and came face-to-face with a woman brandishing a revolver of her own as she emerged from the corner.
Ahh, a classic Mexican standoff.
"Hands up! N-no halo…?"
"Hey, I'm not with those weirdoes earlier, if you're wondering. I mean, I don't even have matching face-masks." I justified myself at the police officer. I did not let my gaze move an inch away from her, while she seems a bit apprehensive. One that did not escape my notice.
I paused at what I just said. By the looks of things, I might just be a more suspicious individual with my clothes than wearing face-masks…
"Okay, first of all, I'm not the one driving a tank and shooting around it. This was the best I could do on an unannounced visit."
Yet she stayed quiet, more dumbfounded at what I said.
"Listen, I don't mind if you arrest me now, but you only get to choose one. Lower your gun and help me stop that tank from rampaging around the city and save lives or I drop my mine and you arrest me and try to handle what's outside alone and expect me to already be gone by the time after any chance you survive. Your call." I insisted as my gaze fixed on her and delivered my ultimatum with conviction. My eyes bored into hers as I made my point crystal clear.
There was no audible answer from her, except she slowly lowers her revolver as I followed suit as well.
"Good choice. We don't have much time for introductions. Now, are those smoke grenades by any chance?" I took notice of those strange white canisters with purple or red streaks running down them hang on her belt. The only reason I knew they were grenades was the noticeable pin at the top.
"T-tear gas." She corrected. Alright, I'm seeing a good idea here. I stayed my eyes on those canisters…
"Even better. What are your plans with them, exactly?" I asked.
"I planned on tossing them around the tank to create a wall of smoke for them to obstruct their vision before they made their way to our makeshift road blocks and for the rest of my unit to leave suppressing fire."
"A sound plan, but there's a risk of running the group in front of the tank to hinder your attempt and, not to mention, it still doesn't guarantee the tank won't fire blindly. Blind or not."
"O-oh…"
"But If I were to draw their fire running across while you stay and flank them with the tear gas while they're focused with me… enough for your friends to sweep the floor with these gangs… It would give me enough for me to get atop of that tank…"
"Are you still with me?" I held out my fingers and snapped them in front of her to get her attention.
"Y-yes!"
With a plan in full motion. I couldn't discount the possibility of it being flawless, but it's a plan, nonetheless. I walked over and crouched down to watch the tank as I prepare myself as bait.
"Alright good. Remember, wait until I'm across the plaza, then go crazy."
"Understood!" She gave an energetic nod before adding. "And my name is Kirino."
"Huh?" I turn back to her.
"Nakatsukasa Kirino, my name. I'm a student from Valkyrie Police Academy, but currently relocated at Community Safety Bureau."
Didn't I told her there's no time for introduction…? Great, the last thing I need is getting attached to the people here…
"… Thirteen…"
A/N: Hello, please enjoy. I just need this one published before college starts. Expect minor errors that will be fixed in the coming weekends. I barely finished this
Maksym199ob: Yeah, Irrational Dreams will have to be in a indefinite hold for now. Yeah, I'm planning on playing them after I get some time finishing resurrections. Still can't believe it's all made in Russia. Real interesting the original games have a cult fan base there.
Unknown Sixth: Actually, I originally planned not to mention anything related to New vegas and stick with the original retcon with Las Vegas still existing. As a character from Fallout 1 completely contradicts new vegas as a whole that there's already a crime families there already before House that a group of desert rangers shot and killed a "Fat fuck".
but in the end, I just settled with a reference to House.
As for some of the errors, I'll be taking a second look at them -even this chapter- and try for a fix as much as possible. Some of the redundant wording might stay as I'm a bit bias with my style of writing. the past/present tense conflict in narration will definitely be fixed along with the run-on sentences as much as I can.