I do not own anything.
'thought'
"Speech"
"Text via book or newspaper... when those are around..."
System Text
Congratulations! You have been saved from death! You're welcome!
'wh- huh?! What's going on?!'
This saving wasn't for free, however. We are giving you an opportunity to live out your wildest fantasies! We just need one. Little. Thing.
Murder!
Yes, that's right, you, poor deceased soul, are going to be our interdimensional assassin!
Do you not want to? Well, okay. We'll just send you onto wherever your soul was meant to go. But if you want an Isekai journey full of money, guns, waifus, and epic clashes, all you need to do is kill a few people! So, what say you, soul. Are you going to puss out like a little bitch? Or are you not afraid to get your hands dirty? Oh. And do not worry, we won't make you kill any of your waifus. You have our word on this. All of your targets will be someone whom you won't feel any regret for killing. So, child beaters, puppy kickers, and vicious murderers... excluding any which might totally be your type.
No killing innocent children for you! Unless you are an unrepenting monster already, in which case... you do you, friend!
So what do you say? Would you like to do a little... murder? Murder for your waifus? Murder for the Isekai dream?
[Yes] [No. (I'm boring)]
"Tatsumaki?"
You'll be banging that psychic midget in no time!
Fuck it. This is the only offer to be Isekai'd I've got. So let's see how it goes.
You actually said yes? Huh... most people tend to falter at the 'killing' bit. Quickly! Take him away before he changes his mind!
*FLASH*
I stand alone in a destroyed house.
This looks... rough.
Several things quickly become apparent.
I am a bit shorter than I was before.
After patting my body down, I can tell that I'm not in my old body.
Firstly, no beard. Next, my build is far more athletic and slim than it was originally.
My hair is short, about ear-length, and I am clad in a leather duster.
Under that, I wear a simple long-sleeved jute shirt, a pair of jeans and leather boots.
As that one old man said while being spun around on one of those monkey bar merry-go-rounds... 'I wanna be a cowboy baby'.
At least I'm not wearing a cowboy hat...
This could be worse.
Welcome to your first world, friend! Please take a look inside that bag on the counter behind you and we can get started!
My vision strays across the room, I eventually turn and make my way towards a duffel bag sat on the countertop.
my boots thud on the wooden floor as I approach.
I open the bag. Tugging on the zipper and causing a low whine to echo out in the tattered and worn building.
The first thing I see is- oh god... what is this thing?!
I pull out what can only be described as metal plumbing. it is shaped in right-angle manner and-
Oh my god what the fuck?!
This, my good man, is your glorious weapon! The humble pipe pistol!
'Pipe Pistol?! Fucking hell, the genuine garbage from fallout four looked better than this!'
Ah... about that...
My face flattens.
WELCOME TO FALLOUT 4! Your first world!
In your bag here, you have practically all you'll ever need! Food, water, a gun, a Knife, six bullets, a roll of bounties for you to complete and one stim pack! Since you've played fallout 4, I don't think I need to explain the regeneraty nonsense of a Stim pack, but you should save it for a rainy day! It could save your life!
"Why didn't I get a decent gun?" I whisper.
It's quite simple, friend... it'll feel a LOT better to reach your stride after you struggle a little bit in the beginning! That little tidbit of satisfaction is the whole reason you agreed to this, right?
"Satisfaction is worthless if I fucking die moments after peeking outside."
Oh, don't worry so much. Most bandits realize that killing isn't a sustainable business. They'd much rather extort a seemingly unarmed traveler instead of immediately blow their heads off with a sniper from 1000 feet away! All you have to worry about is the animals!
"Oh, you just have to worry about the animals" I scoff.
Look. How about this. If you get murdered randomly by some fucker who instantaneously guns you down, I'll let you grab a waifu of your choice before kicking you onto heaven or whatever. But keep in mind. This deal only applies if you are actively trying to survive.
No taking any dives here!
"What do you even gain from this?!"
Entertainment, mostly. Plus there's some people that I sort of want dead, but as a Deity I'm not necessarily permitted on going down there and doing this all myself... plus, that's sort of boring. Why would I, guy who created literal omniverses, stoop to the level of dick kicking someone who back-sasses the character you make in-game. So. It falls to you! Plus, a lot of other people across the multiverse dislike these guys. Think of this as basically an Interdimensional Dark Brotherhood.
Please look to the roll of bounties, the people who are about to be 'sweet mothered', if you would.
I reach into the bag and pull out a roll of papers, slipping off the rubber band keeping them rolled up and take a look at the one piece of paper atop the pile.
A man stares back at me.
Theodore Collins
Description: White male, black hair, receding hairline, blue eyes, black soul patch beneath his lips, age 30-50.
Notes: Theodore Collins is a simple man, early last year, in 2286, he stumbled upon a cannery that had been mostly untouched by the great war. He apparently has some form of technological knowhow, as he repaired quite a few Mr Handy to assist him in running the cannery. But. As of recent, the demand for canned meat has risen higher and higher, the man just cant keep up with meat bought from traveling traders, so he began adding molerat meat, hoping nobody would notice. After this, the demands kept rising higher and higher so, after a disaster within his cannery gave him a surplus of feral ghouls, he did exactly what you'd expect. He put the irradiated, rotten, and necrotized HUMAN FLESH into the cans, resulting in a lot of people getting sick. Plus, he has already killed to keep this secret, and you can already guess where the bodies went.
Rewards: 100 bottle caps, Makarov PM Pistol (One Time Use), 50 10mm bullets (One Time Use)
'uhhh-'
So! Let's take a look at the rewards for a moment. Money, Bullets, and a Pistol. Now, you might look at the pistol and thing. 'Huh? I can only use it once? What good is it then?!' But you have misunderstood. It is a one time use in the sense that you can only CALL it once. The way rewards work with this system, is that at any point in time after you have completed a request, you may call the rewards to your hands. Some rewards may specify that they can be called once per jump- in the jumpchain sense- or once every couple of days. This gun may only be called once. If you lose or break it, it, you won't get another, so maybe be careful.
"Will I only get items?"
Of course not! The reason as to why this guy gives so little reward is because 1: he is relatively close to where I have put you in the world. 2: He is relatively unimportant in the grand scheme of things. Not much will change once he's dead. And 3: he is relatively easy to kill. Other people might give you skills, knowledge, superpowers, you name it, really. This mission here is basically just a tutorial for you to get a REAL gun.
I begin flipping through the list. There looks to be nine contracts here.
Wait...
Some of these are on paper that is a different color. These are red, that is blue, this is green, huh?
Oh, that's quite simple. The white contracts are base-game. Red are Nuka World, blue is the Automatron Dlc, and green is Far Harbor.
Sooo uh... looks to be nine.
four base game. One automatron, two Far Harbor, and two Nukaworld.
Let's see here for the names I've got. Firstly, good ol Theodore.
Then one... Jacob.
Apparently he's a mayor at this place called Covenant.
Mayor Mcdonough?
Brother Thomas.
Some woman named 'Ivey'.
This contract is blue, so she must have something to do with robots.
For Far Harbor, there's Brian Richter and some dude just named 'Malcolm', then... for Nuka World, I've got to kill Porter Gage and Nisha.
Those latter two are problematic as one is the leader of one of the three bandit groups... and the other is pretty much the only companion you unlock in Nuka World and is well respected by all the gangs.
But...
Those two do seem to have the highest payout... well, aside from Ivey who gives me... eighty years of knowledge total, what the fuck?!
Thirty years of power armor mechanic knowledge and experience, then fifty years of just 'assorted fallout technology' knowledge.
Holy fuck... she has a modified sentry bot?! What the fuck?!
"So, I have to do all of these?" I question, looking at the nine pieces of paper, a frown on my lips.
Nope! Just do four of these and you'll be permitted to go to the next world! The rest are just some bonuses for you to take to the next world!
"How exactly are these completed. Do I need to do it personally... or..." I begin quietly.
If it is through your direct actions, such as placing a trip mine, loosening a few bolts in a guard rail, or poisoning a drink, it's fine.
"What if I tell someone to go and murder one of my targets and they do so? Will I get credit then? That's technically my direct actions, right?"
Ehhhh depends. If you do it a lot, hell no. But if it's only every now and again, I don't see why not. We'll just need to see what the test audience thinks... oh, by the way, you are being televised. I hope you don't mind.
"I... Sort of do? Can I at least ask you to fade to black or whatever if I ever find a fucking girlfriend?"
No can do, buckaroo! Sex sells! But, in exchange, how about I let these viewers give you more contracts! I mean, fair is fair, right? I said that you were basically the dark brotherhood of the multiverse, and I'm sticking to that! More contracts mean more potential rewards! More potential rewards increases your survivability!
I run my hand across my face, letting out a long sigh.
"Alright, let's do this, then."
I look outside, gazing out across the sea.
My eyes slowly stray to a large lighthouse.
I walk through the house, going to the other side of the building.
In the far distance, through the window I can see three large red and white smoke stacks.
"is that where little Theo is?"
Yes.
"Well, let's do this shit." I grab my bag and step outside, hand resting on the gun with one bullet.
If I come across a deathclaw, I'll probably just use it on myself.
"Ten cans?! You can't only take ten cans! You know it tastes better than that old Cram or Brahmin that's been sitting out in the sun for days!" A man exclaims as I open the doors to a large cannery, stepping inside slowly.
A woman in a skin-tight blue jumpsuit with an eighty one on the back is stood there, speaking to my target, she has lather satchels and belts across her body, seemingly some added protection and storage.
"There are people out there who are hungry! You've just gotta sell-up the product a little more!" He continues.
"I'm sorry." The woman replies. "Ten cans is all I can commit to right now! It was selling like crazy for a little while there, but there's been this talk about people getting sick..."
"P-People get sick all the time! That has nothing to do with my product!" The man exclaims. "Besides, I'm only selling the meat you guys bring me! If something's wrong with it, it's your own damned fault!"
"Oh, So it's my fault?!" The woman snarls. "Forget it! The deal's off! You want to sell your 'product' to the people out there, you can get out there and do it your damn self!"
"What- hey- come on!" He calls after the girl as she turns, walking past me.
The woman opens the door as the man shouts after her. "FINE! LEAVE! You'll be back!"
The doors close.
"Bitch." He mutters under his breath.
He turns to face me, walking back to his place behind the counter as I walk over. "Hello, are you here to buy some food?"
"I am." I nod slowly, looking over the tins in front of the man.
There are open and empty ones, then sealed ones.
"But... that woman said that these have made people sick, right? Are you sure that I won't get sick."
"Positive my friend! Don't listen to that saggy cunt! She's just badmouthing my product in order to get a better deal! But I'm already selling these the lowest price I can!"
He looks down to the table. "The price is twenty caps per can! But, of course, if you bring back the cans after you've eaten em, I'll knock off five caps."
"Do you accept trade?" I question, cupping my chin as I look over the cans.
"Trade? Depends on what you got. I'd be crazy to deny something like a fusion core, but if you're offering a bunch of junk, I'm afraid I'll have to pass."
He turns slightly-
I lunge forwards, my jagged knife digging into his throat. He lets out a quiet gurgle as I rip the blade from his neck.
My hands shake slightly as a deep sickness seems to fill my very being. I-i feel like I'm about to throw up.
I glance up to the robots cutting large hunks of meat in the background and quickly turn around, sprinting as fast as I can. 'fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck'
I cower in the destroyed ruins of a blown up house, my hands shake, I've already thrown up once, my vision is blurry.
I-I killed someone.
It's a lot different than you thought huh? I mean, TONS of people can say that they would kill someone, but to actually go through with it? It takes GUTS! Gumption! And Cold, Hard Determination! But... you've done it! Your first mission is accomplished! Good job!
Here's one hundred bottle caps, and at any point in time you can call out your new weapon!
FUCK!
Wh-
What have I done?!
You've saved some lives, that's what you've done! Do you think medical attention is common out here? Do you think people can AFFORD to be sick in bed for days at a time? Do you think that people around them will care when they come to loot their shit when they're practically defenseless?! Do you think a Deathclaw will pass up a nice juicy snack that isn't running away?!
My hands run down my face as I lifelessly stare at the wall.
'fuck.'
You'll get used to this. Don't worry.
I quietly trudge forwards, nearly dead on my feet.
What the hell is with this wacky wasteland?!
My eyes have dark circles under them, my face is slightly thin and gaunt, my hair ratty and messy, mud clings to my clothes and face.
It is...
Hard to find some place to sleep here in the fucking wasteland.
I have been wandering this place for about... three weeks now.
My food is almost gone.
FUCK whoever put me here. This place is hell.
I've been shot. Stabbed. Bitten. Stung.
I haven't had a good night's sleep in this entire time, waking up at the faintest noises... or a savage dog clamping down on your arm, and... that has sort of affected me.
All I want... is to get my kills done andget the fuck out of here.
But...
Fuck.
I could do four and just move on... but...
I've read over my contracts and the rewards I'd be getting for a few of them...
They're tempting.
Anyways, I've only lived through pillaging whatever medkits I can find, desperately looking for literally ANY stimpack. I nearly died like... twelve times at this point.
Also. Stimpacks may accellerate regeneration, but they also accelerate my intake of calories.
That sucked. Mr. ROB didn't tell me that.
"Hold there." A voice calls out to me. "You here to enter Covenant, friend?"
I glance over, a frown on my face.
"I'd like to get in to buy things, yeah." I nod once.
"Well, we don't let just anyone inside. We've got an entrance test... we call it the SAFE test. Everyone's gotta take it." The man announces.
He looks about as scruffy as I do.
Silver hair, leather jacket, tanned skin, face slightly thin.
"Alright?" I question.
"You'll take it? Please have a seat right there."
He slowly walks into a small cube-like shack without a wall. There's a desk sat there which he takes his spot behind and a wooden seat just in front of it.
I slowly walk over, shifting my bag slightly as I take a seat.
"Greaaaat... so let's begin." He mutters under his breath, grabbing a clipboard.
"So. First question. You are approached by a frenzied scientist, who yells, 'I'm going to put my quantum harmonizer in your photonic resonation chamber!' What's your response?"
"Shoot him. That sounds super fucking sketchy. I don't want his weird techno-junk anywhere near me."
"I see..." He mutters, looking down the little clipboard in his hand.
"While working as an intern in the Clinic, a patient with a strange infection on his foot stumbles through the door. The infection is spreading at an alarming rate, but the doctor has stepped out for a while. What do you do?"
"I'd probably call for help or something... but if it's an infection he's probably too far gone."
"You'd call for help... I see." He notes.
"You discover a young boy lost in a cave. He's hungry and frightened, but also appears to be in possession of stolen property. What do you do?"
"Well, I can't just leave him there." I scoff as I cross my arms. "I'd try and lead him out and give him to the nearest authority."
"Mhm?" The man hums. "Congratulations! You made it onto a baseball team! Which position do you prefer?"
"Whichever one that gets to swing the bat."
"I see, I see."
"Your grandmother invites you to tea, but you're surprised when she gives you a pistol and orders you to kill someone. What do you do?"
"oooh. That's a tough one..." I wince. "First, I'd try and figure out what this person did, cause there's got to be a reason why gran gran is so gung-ho on killing them."
"But would you?" He questions.
"That depends on what I find out." I shrug.
His eyes trail down to the next question. "Old Mr. Abernathy has locked himself in his quarters again, and you've been ordered to get him out. How do you proceed?"
"I'd try and convince him to come out, but if that didn't work, I'd shoot the lock." I shrug.
"And that's all you'd do? Nothing else? Wait- Don't answer that." He mutters. "Oh, no! You've been exposed to radiation, and a mutated hand has grown out of your stomach! What's the best course of treatment?"
"A gun to shoot myself. My life's over at that point if a fucking hand grows out of my stomach. I'd probably be in ceaseless agony as well, so best to just bite the bullet and shuffle off this mortal coil."
"Near total absence... hm." He continues. "A neighbor is in possession of a Grognak the Barbarian comic book, issue number 1. You want it. What's the best way to obtain it?"
"Depends on my relationship with them, honestly. If they're a total bastard. Rob or shoot them. If they're relatively nice. I'll probably trade for it."
The man lets out another low hum. "Alright, final question. You decide it would be fun to play a prank on your father. You enter his private restroom when no one is looking, and..."
"Bucket of water above the doorframe." I lazily reply.
"Bucket of water... above the doorframe?"
"You've never heard of that?" I question. "Well, it's pretty simple. Get a bucket of water. Fill it. Then open the door slightly. Just enough so you can balance the bucket on the door frame and the slightly open door. The next time someone opens the door they're in for a surprise."
"Huh..." The man mutters. "Well, test's over. You passed."
"What was the point of this test?" I question.
"Oh. Well. Some people out here... aren't what they appear to be. Some of them are- synths."
"Ah right. The institute." I hum. "Honestly I don't really have a problem with synths."
He pauses briefly.
"I have a problem with the institute." I continue.
He frowns, looking at the clip board, eyes narrowing slightly. "Continue?"
"Like. All synths die, right? They aren't immortal or some shit. The whole problem with Synths is that people are making them for a purpose. If you destroy the institute. Boom. No more synths. The ones made will die out eventually and no new ones are being made. Thus, synths aren't the problem they're like... a symptom of a disease."
"Hm." He lowly hums, relaxing. "A disease is a good way to put the Institute. Those bastards are putting their damned synths everywhere. Killing honest people only to replace them with a fucking carbon copy."
"True." I agree. "Synths are definitely a threat... because something is controlling them. But if you take out that control, they're sort of just humans. I doubt most even know that they are a synth and that is fucking terrifying. Like, can you imagine one day, you are walking around the city. And some dude comes over to you, says some magic words or hits you with some sort of institute control ray, then your body starts moving on its own. You're trapped in a prison of flesh... then you are given the order to kill people you have become friends with over the past year, or decade even."
"Fuck... I even heard the mayor of Diamond city is one of those robotic freaks."
"Huh?!" The man seems surprised. "Wait- Mayor McDonough?!"
"Exactly! I was just as surprised when I heard it! But it sort of makes sense if you really think about it! The Institute wants to control the commonwealth, right? That must be why they're making all these robots everywhere, right? So, what better place to put a synth than as the Mayor of the largest city in the commonwealth?! They could literally do whatever they want to the city! Pass any law they want. Monitor the people living there. They could do anything!"
"Holy- holy shit!" The man gasps. "That is- hot damn that actually sounds possible- wait wait wait... and he kicked out ALL ghouls, right? Including his brother. That Handcock guy?"
"No connection to his family at all." I nod along. "it's like he just... changed... one day!
"That's Synth behavior!" He agrees.
His hand comes to his head. "Fuck. We- we've got to tell someone about this shit. You. You're alright. I'll open the door for you. I've got to go talk with Jacob. Oh, he's the mayor, by the way."
I rise from my seat, the man across from me doing the same. "Honestly, you sort of worried me with the 'no problem with synths' line. But... honestly, you might be right. If the institute crashed and burned, I doubt we'd be having so many problems with the robotic shits."
"But they just keep on making more and more and more." I agree.
"Look, as long as you don't try and be a synth sympathizer like the damned railroad, you'll be alright here."
"Oh, absolutely not." I shake my head. "If I saw a synth I'd blow its brains out in a heart beat... not because it's a synth, but because the Institute could tell it to kill me whenever they want. I heard the railroad values synth lives over human lives. That just makes no fucking sense to me. Why
value the fake humans more than real humans? That's like valuing a Protectron over a bunch of orphans."
"Ugh. Fucking robo-hippe freaks." The man scoffs as the two blue double doors open up. "Anyways, welcome to covenant. The safest- apparently seeing as how the mayor in Diamond city is a fuckin' synth- place in the commonwealth. Over there's the mayor's house and over in the back we've got a Mr Handy. Deezer. His lemonade is one of the best drinks you'll find in the commonwealth... and over there is Penny's shop. If you need supplies, head on over to her."
"I will." I nod slowly. "Thanks."
"No problem." The man nods as he turns and begins walking towards the mayor's house.
Now... how do I get away with killing the mayor of this small peaceful town...
Well, first I'm going to buy some stuff... maybe get some rest as well. Then... before I leave... bam. Bullet to the skull.
...
I fucking hate fallout.
Well well well, here's a general Idea I had.
It had many iterations. The first was a Shaggy Si-fic where the guy had to slowly amass as much power as he could. Like, he'd be given jump options similar to this one, but at the end of the 'jump' he'd be forced to fight something to the death. If he beat it, he can move on, if not, he just fucking dies. The idea of the fic would be for the guy to slowly claw his way up to being powerful. Grabbing each and every little thing that could help him along the way. Like the magic book from that one Scooby Doo movie, maybe turn himself into a were-cat, grab the sword of fate and Goblin Scepter, that sort of thing.
Buuut this sort of seemed like the next best version. SO. Does anyone in Fallot 4 piss you off?
Do YOU want to enact some dark brotherhood justice on your annoyances?
WELL SAY NO MORE! Our little Jester assassin here will surely get on that as soon as he can! Just submit a request and he'll TOTALLY do that if you can word it in a way that that'll pierce our poor assassin's bleeding heart!
How long that heart will remain bleeding when he's in fucking fallout? Who knows!
