A/N: Hello, my addiction to Fallout has returned and forced me to wake up at night to make this.

If you want something similar to this and the perhaps the first peep to think of this genius crossover then go give Unknown sixth's A courier of Kivotos: s/14193574/1/A-Courier-for-Kivotos

Really surprised me after searching if anyone has ever made a fallout and blue archive crossover before. It's a pretty good read and you should pay the man some of your time and you'll enjoy it too.

Important note(?): The fallout game I'm basing this is the cancelled Van Buren title and mixing in the old and new entries. Not that it matters in the story, I suppose.

Van Buren takes place shortly after 2 and before NV and 3 with a prisoner marked 13 on the back of his jumpsuit waking up at a NCR prison run by only robots with not much knowledge how or why. Again, it might or not be that important. ;) I'll try to open up about his past as I continue.


"Prisoner thirteen!?"

"In the flesh. So, how about you drop that detonator and surrender yourself. President Wendel has already discovered of you and Coleridge's betrayal and sent your research notes to NCR laboratories to study. You could still stop all of this." Buy some time, what Xian advice to me. Have her to hack the station's module in order to revoke control of the ballistic missiles to not receive any signal to trigger the launch.

"Stay back! Any sudden movement and I'll launch the missiles!"

If it's any consolation, I found it quite easy to keep the conversation going with a mad scientist by stroking his ego and inflating his sense of self-importance. A way to disarm the situation cautiously.

"And then what? Will the corpses and rubble will continue your "pure-race"? Presper, think, you could still continue your work on the vaccine and cure just like before. But I need you to help us deal with the new plague first. People across the waste can remember you as the man who made radiation poisoning a thing of the past. A real hero." As my companions told of me, I seemed to possess a [Cult of Personality]. So I appealed to the doctor's ideals. Talking as slow as I kept inching to lower my APOLLO laser pistol aimed at the mad doctor.

"You proved a good point. This was my last resort," He emphasize the detonator in his hands, "and as you can observe, nothing has gone according to plan. I have dedicated thirty-five years of my life to a cure, and what do I have to show for it? A pathetic, miniscule amount of progress? How can you expect me to discover anything significant at this point?" Standing by the control panels, with various lights from buttons blinking around him, was Doctor Presper shouting loud.

He stood before me, his figure clad in a pristine white spacesuit that gleamed in the light. The helmet that fit to the suit lay discarded on the ground beside him, revealing a mop of tousled white hair. As he approached, the sound of his heavy footsteps echoed through the surrounding cockpit. In his hand, he held a blocky object that caught the light and glinted like a precious gem.

It was a terrifying weapon that had not been used since the resource war - a detonator that was linked to missiles aimed square at the United States ready to launch. A gem of a weapon to someone who gets their hand on, and a mad scientist won that prize.

Come on, Xian, anytime now. Wait!

"What about Xian?" I prompted. Trying to use Presper's past to stall.

"What about her?" The doctor sneers, but my perceptive sights can sense a different truth in his eyes. They are filled with reminiscence and regret for many years. Something I feel worth the need to keep prodding into.

"You never gave her a chance-"

"She's an insolent brat! A hindsight I never took into account after I brought her and the rest of the ungrateful collaborators to my lab. I should have realized my mistakes then and maybe..."

"She looked up to you like a father! You locked everyone out who ever wanted to follow your vision of a permanent cure and vaccine to the radiation sickness. I know because spoke to some of your former students that survived in Boulder Dome and Xian has a lot to say about you. I followed your trail to a big mountain and met a person named Mobious, who almost went into a Mentant and Psycho addiction for you, thinking you're a crash test dummy and never left big Mountain after helping in your research." The doctor's reaction was almost frozen as he raised the detonator, anticipating that I would try to escape.

"You could still stop this. Stop those thirty-five years from going to waste." However, I stood my ground and shouted out everything I had.

There's anger behind my words, as rightfully so. He imprisoned me for almost my entire life. I could no longer remember my childhood, who I really was before all of this. Only me waking up in a cell, desperately trying to escape any means necessary. I briefly considered if this was the appropriate reply, but given all that has happened.

This was still the man who erased my memories of who I were after all. That's right, were.

So many times I kept hearing stories, my face and the deeds surrounding it from people's tales, yet I myself the person in their stories did not know a speck of idea what or how I did it. It always creeped me out how every time the stories end with me being kidnapped by a large four-legged robot that can be a walking fortress before taking off to the wastes.

It wasn't until I helped a crucified man near the canyons, I just stumble upon him charred like a brahmin steak left at the spit too long and started helping me jot down everything in notes I learned about the who and where I was being taken to. An NCR penitentiary called Tibbets located bordering state-lines of Arizona and Utah. Someone or something wants to drag me inside the slammer behind bars and electric field throughout than just outright shoot me and be over it. The A.I and its robots want to keep me away than deal with me the easy way. A bullet to the head to finish my misery.

Following my most recent escape attempt, I made a crucial discovery inside. There existed an A.I. known as Odysseus, which had been programmed to keep me confined within its prison. To accomplish this, it dispatched a legion of robots, called Argos, across the continent to track me down. These robots were not aggressive towards anyone except me.

By the time before my last grand escape, my name spread far into California to Illinois and with nearby settlers lent a hand to help and friends I made assisted in making sure I was a pain in the ass for the AI long enough to catch the bastard who programmed the A.I all the way to the Midwest and back to the west-coast for answers to find out what had really been going on.

Victor Presper, former NCR scientist, most brilliant man of the old world till now, the same bastard caused me a lot of pain, but keeping him alive to work on a cure is an option that the wasteland needs. A gamble with a wildcard.

Forget about that, it appears that I could knock some sense int the doctor to some extent. Shaking in his suit, I saw Presper had a horrified look of realization finally hit him after thirty-five years of madness finally swept away off his wide eyes as he shakingly lowered the detonator to rest at the table behind and, in his trembling steps, backing away with hands raised. [Charisma] saves the day once more.

"The terminal… The password is Tom Sawyer. Just… make it stop…" And a reward for it, too, as the doctor stammered his words in a whisper.

Would you look at that? Seems like you got the easier job, Xian. I thought, as I watch the doctor quietly look down. Guess she doesn't need to hack the terminal now.

Although I was hesitant to holster my laser handgun. Nah, that was a lie. If I feel that if push came to shove, I would only have to deal with a feeble old man, and the threat of the detonator was far away from his reach, anyway.

With the password in hand, I opened up the terminal, and I got straight to work, accessing the command lines with ease.

[ Welcome Dr. Victor Presper. ]

[ Shutdown connection to central B.O.M.B.-001. ]

[ Remove time sequence activator. ]

There! I found myself staring at the terminal, scanning it repeatedly to ensure that I hadn't missed anything important until I proudly said those words over the communications. "Xian... it's over... we did it." A sense of relief washed over me, and I finally understood what it felt like. After almost a full year of traveling up and down, left to right on the west coast to mid-west America, I could finally take a deep breath and relax for once.

Finally.

"I-is Xian at there?" I heard the doctor behind me ask. I nodded, already knew what he was about to ask and removed my communication earpiece and tossed it in his way, seeing fumbling his hands to catch it before hearing some yelling from the Shi scientist from the other end at Presper was a laugh. "Good luck, pal. You'll need it. She still bites after all these years."

Thank god, this whole mess is almost closing… Plus, I even got the good doctor back to his senses to fix the mess he made. Guess I'm in lady luck's grace this time around.

Now, the only thing left for me was to play politician to mediate the NCR and the first Brotherhood of Steel relations from further deteriorating. Dirty business that I even hate to take. But hell, nobody wants anymore unnecessary bloodshed from bitter old men over territory. Last thing on everybody's mind is another Navarro incident.

Perhaps… Later on …I should also take an even closer look at this new tribe over at the East swallowing up smaller groups. Ceasar's raiders or something they called themselves. I always feel a growing unease whenever I'm passing over to Utah on my travels.

A part of me is concerned every time I kept seeing that flag of the golden bull flying over burned tribal settlements. Maybe return to Macomb and pay the Midwest Brotherhood chapter another visit if the NCR or the first Bos won't bother to notice, nor are too wrapped in their little war to bother something trivial to them. Then there's the Montana state chapter of Bos I met when chasing the skulls out of Wyoming. They could probably lend some help with.

After that, maybe head to the Mojave for some a little downtime to relax a bit. I remember hearing some along the lines of a rich aristocrat is founding a new city there, one with casinos and the likes from whispers around the bars lately, it's hoping to challenge the likes of New Reno, and I've heard that same powerful figure there is in need of a trusted courier.

Maybe I could take a slice out of that action. A good change of pace from the world saving and a bonus of having more caps to jingle jangle in my pouch. Is always a melody to my ears.

As I stood there, the doctor suddenly handed me a tape as I turn back to him. I accepted it, feeling curious as I looked up at him. He then explained, "This holotape contains the missing half of my research. Please, keep it close, as it is crucial that we complete where I left off. It seems I have gone to the deep end all those days alone in my lab. Thank you for getting me out there."

I nodded in agreement and proceeded to open the holotape slot of super Pip-Boy. Carefully, I inserted it while keeping in mind the importance it contains. Then sent the copy of the contents to Xian to handle.

I glanced at Presper for chance, noticed at the close of my Pip-boy, particularly his other work. "I see you already putting a good use of my other creation. The possession of exceptional [Intelligence] is a prerequisite for acquiring the only existing copy of my Super Pip-boy by cracking the security to my vault. Congratulations, I must commend." He commented with pride.

"Yeah, this thing is millions of miles compared to the [lil' pip 3000] I got from the NCR. Supports image capture and full color display with full sixty-four bit capabilities. I could even make my own programs to break into terminals easier. Even better is the item analysis, helps me make my own stimpaks more effective in its use when breaking down components for my mixture. I also liked the motion sensor alarm when someone is coming for and sneaking at me. You're a genius for developing these quality of life on the device."

"A man of science. Yet, you still have so much to learn about my [Super Pip-boy]. You can even activate the touch-screen function. I took inspiration from the [pip-pad] from a traveling vendor salvaged it from Atlanta. It seems I made a mistake putting you—"

"Hey, none taken. The important thing is that you're back on track now. It's time to return to Earth. We still got a job needs to be done there. The tape's content should be getting to Xian back at Dome. We should, too." I gave a nonchalant shrug. It's not every day you embark on an adventure spanning multiple commonwealths and even a space station. Oh, did I forget to mention the space station part?

Well, it's not as significant as the legendary vault dweller who took down the leader of the FEV mutants or the chosen one blowing the Enclave's oil rig.

Don't forget that I also somehow convince the mad scientist back to his senses rather than a huge unnecessary fight; and in space. That's at least a feat no-one's gotta break in centuries. It's not like aliens are real and abducting people, anyway.

Once we arrived at the docking area, the doctor handed me a few things in his private quarters — well, what used to be the chief's quarters in the pre-war era. He passed onto me a box filled with holotapes that contained information he thought I might find helpful. He also gave me a folder to read on the way back. Lastly, he gave me a red vial with a tape attached to it that had the words "Prevent med" written on it with the instruction to take it with a stimpak.

Actually, Presper has a box load of these "Prevent med" vials he brought to his return shuttle and even injected himself with it. I followed to, but was not sure what the vial actually did, and forgot to even ask what it was. Probably some uppers or something good if the doctor was casual at hitting himself with it.

After that, I nodded a signal to Presper as I boarded my return shuttle, smaller, intended for only four people, and kicked back, sinking in the cushioned seat. Buckled up and ready to go back home. Though beautiful, space was too lonely for me. It was a gimmick that got boring quick.

Looking for a way to kill time on the way back down to Earth, I opted to listen to some holotapes that had been given to me. Upon opening the box, I noticed the tapes were neatly arranged in sequential order, except for one. Placed above the others and marked with blue tape stretching around, I instinctively placed this specific tape into the deck of my Pip-boy without much consideration. Looks interesting, might contain something valuable.

Until password safeguard holds my progress, and the security measures are exceedingly complex. Even with my cracking programs, I'm still chipping away at it slowly that manually breaking in was more preferable. Then the password isn't a word, but a sentence. Like how the most, if not the words on the list could be indeed correct, they have to be punched in a sequential order to form a sentence to crack open.

This was some highly classified stuff right here to put so much security measures in. Time to take a crack at it.

[ We long for the seven wailings. We bear the koan of Jericho. ]

I have to say; the password was quite unusual.

Regardless, it was a little daunting, yet I could navigate through it by employing some ingenious workarounds and techniques. Such sophistication of this security makes me want to reverse engineer it for my use.

Seven Wailings… Koan of Jericho… Sounds like something you'd read at a bible or hear at church, and I never even went to one. Makes me think the good doctor is more of a religious man than he lets on.

Who the hell is Jericho, anyway? Sounds like an asshole who owed me caps at Vault City.

Welcome, Sensei.

Sensei? Now this was making less sense more. I am convinced that the language had an Asian origin. Like a rough translation derived from a mandarin word using the English alphabet similar to what I would read from old books from the Shi in San Francisco's Chinatown, but I'm not entirely certain.

Korean or Japanese, perhaps? I should try to ask Xian later. She probably knows about this better than I am.

What the hell is a sensei, anyway?

Just as I was about to contemplate the strange language presented, a deafening alarm screeched into my ears. As several of the screens in front showed the warnings of the thrusters malfunctioned and the parachutes failed to deploy, I realized I was in trouble without both measures to slow the shuttle's descent. At that moment, I knew my fate was sealed. I was as good as the asteroid that crashed down to Earth and wiped out the dinosaurs.

The once steady ride turned into a chaotic rollercoaster as the shuttle began to shake violently. Looking through outside through the window, all I saw was a bright light shining. My heart raced as I felt struggled to hold on to anything within reach.

Suddenly, it now all felt like a bad idea from my hoarding issues as it turns into a scene of complete chaos, as everything I had took -and brought- from -and to- the space station was now in a frenzy of motion all around the room, crashing and flying all over the place, creating a deafening cacophony of sounds.

I screamed loudly, "Shit! Oh, fuck me!" Instinctively, I ducked my head from barely getting hit by a loaded [G11] rifle that was flying past my head. That was close! Almost became the first man to be killed by the Kraut space magic in space. However, I was surprised when a purple bottle of the horrid Bawls Guarna suddenly smashed into my face, hitting me directly on target. It was as if lady luck had blessed the bottle to find its way to my face.

"Oh, god, that was disgusting!"

It looks like I won't be making out of this one. Alive, at least.

I accepted that notion, and the trembling fear just left as I lifted my Pip-Boy to transmit a final message to anyone who might be listening on the other end.

My heart was pounding so hard in my chest that I could feel it in my ears. The sweat on my palms made it difficult to grip the Pip-Boy tightly, but I managed to steady my hand. The adrenaline that had been coursing through my veins just moments before had now been replaced by a sense of calm resignation. As I spoke into the device, my voice was steady.

"Well, this is it. I know you guys we're waiting for me to get back down there… But I… I guess there's a change of plans. Me? Guess my road ends here… Goodbye. And Joshua, don't be an asshole to people and remember to feed Dogmeat the free-range brahmins. He always loves those. Arcade, thanks for the help of those Arch gizmos. Tell Cassidy and his missus congratulation for the kid when you return west. Xian, loosen up, will ya? Just keep an eye on the doc. He probably won't go crazy again, but chat with him from time to time, okay?"

As I finish my transmission, I close my eyes and take in a deep breath.

In my head, I to think of something, anything, that would make this situation more bearable. But there was nothing. There are no last-minute ideas, no miracles, no skills in my head that can save me from being in the center of an orbital crash. I'm going to feel like what Joshua felt being burned alive soon.

I am alone, and I am going to die alone. And there is nothing I can do to change that.

Time to do one last thing, I suppose. I pulled out a bottle of whiskey from my nearby rucksack - I myself have the belief if you're going out with no control over to stop it, at least die with what can give you a bit of enjoyment for one last time. Not with a single swig, I chugged the entire thing.

For all the problems the wasteland has. I'm sure somebody else can pick up the piece of where I left off. They can deal with Ceasar and the NCR.

I'm going to die with no worries.

On that particular night, many individuals gazed up at the sparkling sky, taking in the tranquil and exquisite spectacle before them. Meanwhile, a young lady was casually cycling along a sidewalk that was lightly coated with sand when her furry ears perked up as she spotted a noticeable shooting star streaking across the sky.

It seemed like the perfect night to make a wish.

Is this it?

Is this what death feels like? Still smelling like alcohol and awful energy drink that doesn't justify its scarcity of being used only sold in Texas?

Above all, nothing hurts, somehow. I should be dead. Even a moron could understand a crash from space should have turned me into a fine red paste. Yet, the blaring alarm is still screeching loud somehow doubts that is the case. I slowly open my eyes as I look around and see the interior of the shuttle, still a mess, but I'm still here. I tried to get out, pushing aside the various things on the floor and opening the latch as I peeked my head out.

Well, it's something familiar.

The familiar sight of a sea of sand for miles as far as I can see, with various rock formations in the distance. I stepped out of the crashed shuttle to check my situation. Hearing the crackling sound of the grains of sand under my boots as I looked around more, before I remember I could check my pip-boy for my bearings. Of course! How could I forget that?

I reached for my wrist and activated my pip-boy with a sound of buzzing tech booting on, feeling a wave of relief wash over me as I saw that all my vitals were normal. My heart rate showed was steady, and my oxygen levels displays were good. But as I turn to look at the map upon clicking the Data button, my relief turned into utter terror as I stare into the screen.

Holy shit… It projected an image on the screen that by far is more terrifying than cave spelunking for buried stashes, then stumbling to find the whole place got turn into a Wanamingo nest. Real sons of bitches, they are - even more in packs.

[ Data Unavailable. ]

No map to show.

What the hell could've caused this? A malfunction? Impossible, I was alive and unscathed and so too should my pip-boy. It could be something wrong with the satellites… Did being in space cause the connection to sever or disrupt from my pip-boy, or was I out of range?

If that's the case, could this mean I landed somewhere far from the commonwealths? Desert… There's sand everywhere. Mexico, perhaps?

Regardless of all that, I'm still alive and need to move to a safe place until I can get a fix in this situation.

As I went for a stroll around the debris of the crashed shuttle, strange, there were only minimal damages to it, wandering off my mind to my location and how I would handle such a predicament. However, my thoughts are interrupted by something that further tests my sanity, adding to the mounting stress of my predicament.

It seems like I overlooked a significant change in the area - the sand floor abruptly ended, and ahead of me was a shallow water body spanning over miles.

I stood there, stunned, trying to take in the sight before me. The water was crystal clear and sparkled under the moonlight. The water's body was so vast that it seemed to merge with the horizon. I had never seen anything like it before. Piles of table… similar to those used in pre-war schools. As I look around further, I see in the distance stand a large formation of rocks pocking through the water.

Just by mere stretch, my [Perception] caught sight of a figure of someone sitting there.

I remained skeptical, looking at it for a moment, thinking of ways how I should go about it. There was a possibility of all of this was a staged ambushed, some stupid and probably delirious person just out of a crash would be a perfect opportunity to jump at by any raiders in the area.

My hands slowly snaked to my side, grasping the grip of my revolver as I called out. "Hey, excuse me! I'm a bit lost here. Wouldn't you point me the way to NCR territories?"

No answer, figures. Of course. There was no telling if I'm seeing things, hadn't been hitting jet for months now, while in prison I abused them to find peace or there was an actual person there by the rocks. "Are you all right over there?"

I did see a lot of strange things on my travels. It's a [wild wasteland, after all.

Where anything can and most likely will happen. Logic be damned. I've already grown used to seeing a large footprint of creatures the size of factories to a Bos paladin stuck inside his power armor because of the rusts growing and asking me to find oil to treat the hinges while out in the road. It's the possibility that struck me of wearing power armor for extended periods is what scared me more than a possibility of a large mutated abomination roaming the wastes.

This just could be like those, another wild encounter traveling the wasteland. Don't think about it too hard, just go along with it.

Carefully, I advance towards the figure, alert for any sudden actions and forcing myself to concentrate not only on it but also on any sounds other than my own in the vicinity. But of course, it wasn't moving, because of the blood.

As I approached, the figure on the rocks did my slow walk became a brisk walk did the smell of metal and bronze came. The sound of gentle waves lapping against the shore was soothing, but also eerie in its emptiness.

With caution in my mind, I treaded carefully within a few feet of the rocks. Still keeping a firm hand as I draw closer to the figure, carefully gripping on my holstered revolver. I could see that it was a woman sitting there and the blood. It stained her otherwise pristine white outfit resembled almost like an army official or something close, almost. Like an NCR official, but I know it's nowhere from the wasteland. To wear something white and clean-cut was like the equivalent of being an idiot in a room full of geniuses. You'll be easily singled out and targeted on.

It honestly threw me off a moment when I got a good look at her before I slowly used my free hand to rummage out a stimpak from a pouch while my eyes wander around for anything around the area before.

After a brief pause, I called out again, this time with a louder tone, "Just hold on, I'm gonna get you to safety!" However, there was no response. Her exhausted eyes met mine, one of them hidden, still peering through her light-blue hair. She wasn't going to mug me for all I got.

Hell, with that amount of blood like that, she wasn't going to do anything at all.

At that sight made my mind as my pace began faster, the shallow water splatter around my boots. Her gaze was like a flickering candle, slowly fading away. Yet when I crouched down to administer the medicine, I somehow almost missed the look in her eyes. Despite her being near to death's door, she still looked at me like she saw an old friend. Nostalgic feeling when her lips crept into a faint smile looked sincere.

Upon witnessing her unusual behavior closer, it appears that she may be experiencing hallucinations, possibly as a result of stress or shock from the wounds. Something like seeing "one's life flash before their eyes" the type of deal I've heard a few times. She must have mistaken me for someone else. Guess that old pre-war phrase still rings true.

As I plunge the stimpak into a cardiac injection on her chest, a subtle wave of relief washed over me for after I did. But as I pull away, I can't shake off the feeling of unease. I take a deep breath and turn back to the woman, who is now closing her eyes. I know I have to get her to safety. But before I can make a decision, the woman speaks. Her voice is weak and hoarse, but I can hear the gratitude in it.

"Thank you," she whispers, her hand reaching out to touch mine. I flinch at the touch, but then I realize that she's just trying to hold on. I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

Before attempting to carry her back to the shuttle, I thought it was better than just sitting on a rock. However, I was shaken up as I witnessed her disintegrate like sand blown away by a gust of wind. Not only her, but the surrounding water vanishes, too. I fall to my knees in shock and see only a small puddle of liquid left behind, the liquid contents of the stimpak.

She's not real.

Just a hallucination… I'm just seeing things. Again.

Well, except for that. Well, well. My eyes just so spot a large beacon of light. When I look up from where the tall rock formation once was, I see a beacon of light piercing the sky over the distance. My stares went on for a while. It could be another mirage, or hallucination. But after looking around with no other landmarks or anything to point me where I am or where I should go, I took my chances.

At least I have a somewhere to go to.

As I turn back to the wrecked shuttle, a smirk spreads across my face. "And a sled to carry my stuff," I think. With some elbow grease, I am confident that I can transform this heap of scrap into something that has a use.

It's going to be a long night…

Hope it won't be another hallucination this time. I already had enough surprises.

Alright, after a few hours of stripping down the aluminum plating and walls of the shuttle, I managed to repurpose them as a base for the sled. Furthermore, I adapted the parachute into an improvised cover to shelter the things I had brought with me away from the environment. Sand has a tendency to insert themselves into any holes and tend to jam certain things. Using the strings from the parachute I had left in hand, I could tie it over and over to make into a makeshift rope easily on the shaft boar, which allowed me to pull the sled along.

I have to say, it's not too bad for someone scraping a broken shuttle. Still, gotta get under some shade for the sled before the sun's beating down - it's aluminum after all, and I'm not too keen on my more polymer things melting.

On that note, I found while checking inventory. I also discover is that despite my map being downright useless as is, the radio is still somehow receiving signals. In fact, it's picking up way more than just the West coast and the Midwest. I'm somehow, for whatever reason, picking up signals all the way to the East-coast in Boston, DC, Appalachia, Miami and among other places I could tune in, too. As per law that every pip-boy should.

Thank God, I'd go insane without 'em.

So, there's maybe something is wrong with my navigations of my Pip-boy if I could still somehow find broadcast signal in the commonwealths. Well, that's good. Better.

"It's a long way from California. I got a bag full of fusion cells, half a pack of cigarettes. It's night, but I'm still wearing my sunglasses. Let's hit this."

As I prepare to pull on the rope, I ended up choosing to a radio station named "Appalachia Radio." Immediately, a slow guitar riff welcomes me from the speaker. The melody sounds familiar, and I can't help but hum along as I put the rope over my chest. Nothing beats walking across the wasteland with the radio playing.

"Country road, take me home, to the place where I belong-!"


Hehehe prisoner 13 got isekai'd by gravity.

I hope you enjoy this as much I do.

F1 had you charisma your way to make the final bad suicide.

NV had you charisma Legate lanius to spew bullshit and run away.

Now I had FVB make the prisoner charisma charm the big bad join you lol