Six had always wondered. why were Vault-Tec such evil sadistic bastards? Six had seen vaults where the dwellers were forced into sentencing friends and family to certain death, just so the rest could endure a few days more before they were eventually forced to do it all again. In another, the people were infected by a fungus and turned into plants, like actual plants. Hell, he'd even heard rumours of a vault being pumped full of hallucinogens and flooded with white noise out east, apparently trying to turn those poor fuckers into super soldiers, with... predictable results.
But in the end, he always came to the same conclusion—the same conclusion he came to for most things: because they could, because no one tried to stop them. Frankly, no one could stop them. And the reason they committed these atrocities? Simple. Just for their own sick, twisted, and downright diabolical amusement... Any talk of scientific discovery or "for the betterment of mankind" was simply bullshit.
He was getting lost in his thoughts. With a shake of his head, Six snapped back to the present. Looking forward, he realized that he was here, finally at his destination.
Marching down the... -cave? Mine? Whatever the hell you call a hole in the middle of the desert, Six eventually arrived at a giant steel barrier. He gazed at the decrepit vault door in a lackadaisical manner for a few moments before his eyes suddenly snapped to a big, bold 5 painted on the front.
He scowled at the memories tied to that number, recalling a yappy old man who, even as they were fighting for their damned lives in hell neck deep in death, continued to spew his faux wisdom at him about the bear and the bull and the dead world and all other sorts of nonsense.
He shook his head, quietly chastising himself for losing focus again and banished the thoughts of the Divide and Ulysses, that place was gone now and so was he- thankfully.
As Six approached the giant door, he stalled after a moment, slowly tilting his head. It looked ajar, as if barely open, something he didn't think could be possible with a 10-tonne slab of steel on hydraulics, But he ignored his growing feeling of concern and merely sauntered forth towards the door, finding it just wide enough to fit his slight frame through.
Reaching down to his side, Six patted the handle of a worn revolver holstered at his hip – a trusty Rangers Sequoia that he'd once upon a time 'liberated' from a ranger chief's still warm hand after the old renegade had offed himself with it. Before finally, Allowing a small sense of anticipation to bubble up inside, Six clambered through the narrow gap.
He misstepped slightly as his foot caught the edge, sending him stumbling forward into the entrance of the vault. For once, it was surprisingly clear of skeletons or giant bugs—just a few tables littered with junk and an ominous doorway, which would no doubt lead deeper into the vault.
Behind the cracked lenses of his riot helmet, Six's eyes narrowed as he took a few steps in, a not-so-great idea sparking in his head.
"It's quiet... Too quiet," he declared aloud, managing to conceal the thrill in his voice as he brazenly taunted the world. However, his anticipation eventually deflated somewhat as nothing happened. He frowned under his helmet; usually, this sort of proclamation worked to spring whatever trap or cosmic karmic event that saw fit to-
-Six spun, snatching at the handle at his side, He drew faster than most men could blink, and turned just in time to watch the seemingly broken door slam shut with a deafening clang and a hellish screech of metal, Oddly, he noted, it did not roll shut like normal, but instead moved as if on a hinge. That was worrisome, something told him it would also be a lot harder to open than normal.
But, after a moment, he relaxed and let a small feeling of calm fill him. Being merely trapped was a far better outcome than what happened last time; he had no intentions of getting set on fire again, thank you very much.
Despite now being locked inside an undoubtedly dangerous pre-war vault, of which he could only assume—and almost psychotically hope—was filled to the brim with god-knows-what kind of horrific dangers, Six found himself grinning in anticipation under his helmet. He could feel his blood pumping as he turned away from the locked entrance, his trigger finger twitching, and settled on walking through the only other door in the room.
Any feeling of thrill was soon dampened however as he made his way deeper into the vault, passing room after room, each as empty as the last. No madmen, no mad ghouls, no killer robots—hell, not even a single damned radroach to squash. Nothing but the quiet humming of lights and the hissing of hydraulics as he opened door after door.
The weird thing was, the place didn't look abandoned, tables were set, and food was prepared, albeit it all was rotten, he even found a table with chips and cards set out, one hand caught his attention, two 8s, two aces. the dead man's hand, it's fitting Six supposed since the player himself was probably dead too...
Emerging from a clinic he had found in his wandering, the pilfered medical supplies rattling away in his duster's many pockets, Six began to mentally toy with the idea of heading back towards the entrance, if for no other reason than to see just how 'bombproof' the famed Vault Tech blast door was. That's when a flashing light caught his eye...
The door itself was ordinary, a heavy security door designed to keep out anything smaller than a Yao Guai, However, what grabbed his attention was the sign above the door, a sign he was able to read. The words "testing lounge" flickered back at him, and he suddenly felt giddy.
Like in the rest of the vault the door opened for him as he neared, revealing some kind of observation room he guessed, filled with all kinds of monitoring equipment. However, a single terminal lying in the centre of the room on a table caught his eye. After another brief scan of the room, He approached it, pulling out the chair tucked under, he eventually sat down and even began to recline somewhat comfortably. Eventually, he noticed the switch for the terminal, and after flicking said switch, it hummed to life, but a locked screen stopped him in his tracks.
It didn't take long for him to crack it; he was, after all, one of the, if not the, best hackers in Nevada at this point. Maybe one of those Brotherhood scribes could have cracked it faster—well, provided they weren't all buried under a few hundred tons of rubble. Strap a bomb collar on him will they, huh?
However, the chirp of the terminal brought him back from his reminiscence. He looked up as the password was flashed in front of him, narrowing his eyes.
"Remnant..." it took Six a moment to realize it was him that said it, and he swore the temperature of the room dropped as the word left his mouth. A sense of unease began to trickle into his mind, but he squashed it down viciously, instead allowing his Curiosity to nearly overwhelm him as he looked at the screen. But Before he could access any files however the screen… twitched, it began to glitch and jitter, and for a moment, he thought he saw some kind of figure appear on the screen. before text eventually began to materialize, just two words.
"Greeting... guest," the text read out. Every instinct in Six's body began to scream at him to act, but he remained seated, merely glancing around the room. But after a moment six looked back at the screen and began to type back.
"Nice place you have here," Six calmly typed back after a moment. Maybe it's the descendants of the original inhabitants, maybe an old ghoul, maybe a robot or a ghost... Or even a robot ghost. Six's mind continued to stew with possibilities, each more outlandish than the last, up until the screen once again glitched. Again, he saw the flash of something—a humanoid figure with two horns, or were they limbs, maybe ears? Budding from the top of its head.
"Welcome to Vault 5... Tell me, Would you like to play a game, would you like to leave this vault, not only with your life but, with the riches of the pre-war world?" Six never was one to turn down riches, and he was very good at games, so good infact that he'd been banned from every casino in Vegas... Twice.
"Sure, why not, came here for some fun after all, so, what are we thinking? Blackjack, slots, roulette? Just please not Caravan." maybe it was just some old lonely program looking for a chest mate, though the feeling of unease let no hope, that it was that simple, linger for long.
The screen glitched, and he saw the creature again. It was gold or maybe yellow, with some kind of purple vest on and with far too big a smile damn near splitting its head in two, it reminded him of a creature he'd seen in an old textbook he'd found at Big Mountain— a Rabbit albeit one that was shaped like a man.
"Nothing so archaic; I am referring to a virtual game, accessed with a simulation pod in the next room." Six knew of these pods; the Boomers were using them to train the pilots for that old rustbucket bomber he fished out of Lake Mead. he'd always wanted to try one out but the bastards never let him, even after he tried to bribe them with those strange rocket launchers he found in the Divide.
"And What if I refuse, what if I don't wanna play that kind of game?" Six wasn't stupid; he knew getting in the pod would practically be a death sentence, leaving him at the mercy of the system administrator or hell anyone who just wandered in while he was stuck in that glass pod, As he began to mentally map his way back to the sealed entrance, he took stock of his demolition supplies, several blocks of c-4, some demolition charges, and even a bit of thermite. but Just then, the screen flashed, annoyingly he couldn't bring himself to ignore it, it was like his eyes were being dragged to the text by a lure.
"Have you seen the numerous vents scattered about the vault?" six nodded, he had seen an abundance of vents yes "With a thought, I can flood the entire complex with a volatile nerve agent, and even if you can survive that, I have dozens of security animatronics wandering about that would love nothing more than to tear you limb. from. limb. So, would you like to play a game?" The door to the next room opened as Six stared at the monitor intently, well… fuck
With the benefit of hindsight, coming here was a terrible decision. Maybe he should have listened to House and not wandered off to explore the lifeless pre-war bunker crafted by the psychos from Vault-Tec right before the biggest battle of the year was about to start. Yeah, hindsight.
"Well, You make a very compelling argument... Let's go play a game then." Six felt uneasy as he stood from the chair. This situation brought back memories of the Sierra Madre, of that old bastard Elijah. Here he stood once again in one madman's lifeless kingdom, a result of his insatiable curiosity, with his life resting on a knife's edge, as some unseen figure kept their finger on the trigger. However, he gritted his teeth, he beat that mad man and he'll beat this piss-stained rabbit too.
Passing through the door he found himself entering a large dull grey room, a true staple of Vault Tech's artistry, and noticed the numerous simulator pods scattered about, before eventually spotting one front and centre- no doubt meant for him. However, for a moment he paused, taking a good long look around at a few of the other pods. Various inhabitants, of both wasteland and vault origins, occupied them, and they all had unfortunate one thing in common- they were all dead.
Some of the closer pods even had words painted on the side – 'Sister Location,' 'Help Wanted,' and 'Five Frights at Freddy's.' To name a few.
The one in front of him simply read 'Security Breach.' Well, that didn't sound too bad at the very least, some of the tests he'd been subjected to at the Big MT had probably prepared him to infiltrate and breach security to some extent, so he supposed he lucked out in that regard. Regardless He clambered into the pod, before noticing a sign telling him to take off any head-covering. Muttering under his breath, he reached up and slowly unlatched his helmet, carefully placing it down to the side facing him so Six was still in his view... and taking care to avoid the person who now stared back in their reflection.
The pod began to close, sealing with a hiss— and started humming with energy. The screen in front of him displayed some kind of video—a countdown starting from 5, 4, 3, 2... 1.
And everything went white.