At noon, K6-26 joined a team of four other gen-3s and six armed gen-2s for the surface mission. The gen-3s were a blond male, a blonde female, B1-97 (K6-26's black-male roommate with blue eyes and very short hair), and P4-84 (K6-26's white-female roommate with green eyes and short, light-brown hair).

"Nervous?" B1-97 asked K6-26 on the concourse elevator. "Yeah, I felt the same way when I was first given surface duty."

P4-84 agreed on B1-97's right. "You'll get used to it. It's just the sights and smells that are mostly nauseating."

The other two gen-3s didn't talk much.

The machines rode the elevator to the top level of the concourse, and arrived in a long passage with a few pillars on each side. This led to a long set of stairs which brought the synths up to the room containing the molecular-relay's controls. Here, there were five metal crates on the ground and two gen-3s waiting to address the salvage team.

"Remember to prioritise items that could have aluminum," said a Hispanic female synth. "That includes trays, cans, canisters, alarm clocks, and whatever else you might find."

A bald male synth spoke beside its colleague. "The Institute could always use additional resources as well, so don't be afraid to bring whatever else you can find. We'll even process those pipe 'weapons' the surface-dwellers like to use."

The female synth continued. "Other high-priority materials include crystals, circuitry, gold, and silver. But just grab whatever appears to be worth it."

"Please step into the relay in an orderly fashion," said the male synth. "You will be sent to an old military-installation called Fort Hagen. Stay within the facility and gather whatever salvage there is."

The machines stepped onto the relay in small teams, with each unit needing to be selected before the group could be teleported. K6-26 waited in part anxiety, part excitement as it stood with the rest of the team in the circular relay-room.

"See you on the other side," said B1-97 on K6-26's right.

The synths disappeared in a flash of blue.


Another flash of blue, and the world came into view.

Wow. So this is it, huh?

The fresh air of the Institute was replaced with a hint of decay on the wind. The roofs and ceilings were no more, instead replaced by a seemingly-endless expanse of bright-blue sky. There were numerous wisps of clouds among the blue, and a blinding ball of light known as the sun. Its rays were uncomfortably hot, causing K6-26 and the other gen-3s to raise a hand over their faces.

"Oh, man!" P4-84 groaned. "We've never been up on a summer's day. Didn't think it'd be this hot!"

B1-97 agreed. "It's like standing in an oven!"

The two blond synths complained as well and hurried alongside the others. But as for K6-26, it stood fascinated by the post-apocalyptic world all around it.

Looking around, K6-26 saw that it was standing at a T-junction on the old broken road. The massive fortress of Fort Hagen was to the left, a Red Rocket refuelling station was further down the road, and there was a ruined corner-café to the right. Inside the double-storey café, a skeleton wearing tattered army-fatigues was lying on an old pool-table on the ground floor. It had collapsed with a section of the wooden floor above.

"Sad, isn't it?" said B1-97 a few yards away. "But at least some things are still hanging on."

Sure enough, a large portion of the region's trees were still flowering. They may lack the flawless green of the Institute's vegetation, but the sheer distance of everything as well as the horizon itself made up for it.

"Please enter the building," said an armed gen-2 to the left. It, like the others, wielded an Institute rifle and had a full set of Institute armour over its plain-white uniform. "The Institute has many enemies out here. We are not safe."

Not wishing to be shot at, K6-26 hurried along to catch up to the rest of the group. The machines couldn't use the front entrance of the fort, seeing as it was sealed off, so the next-best option was the underground garage. The team walked along the left side of the building until reaching a doorway on the right, leading down to the garage.

"Huh." K6-26 stopped to inspect a set of glowing mushrooms along the way. "Isn't this interesting?"

The mushrooms were growing just before the doorway, and near two weathered-posters on the wall. One of the posters was of a humanised Statue of Liberty smiling and pointing at the viewer, with the following words captioned in red above her:

'Support our Troops! Buy War Bonds Today!'

The other poster was of a power-armoured soldier helping a formally-dressed gentleman up from the ground. The US flag took up much of the background, and the following words were captioned in white beneath the pair:

'Lend a hand for Uncle Sam: Enlist Today!'

K6-26 shook its head in disdain at the posters. Must be for that stupid war.

B1-97 and P4-84 approached K6-26.

"What's up?" asked P4-84, as K6-26 kept staring at the posters on Fort Hagen's wall. "Oh, that old stuff."

K6-26 rubbed its chin. "I wonder which side was winning before the bombs fell?"

"Neither," said B1-97. "From what I've heard, both sides were taking heavy losses."

K6-26 blinked in surprise. "But America had power armour. Or did the Chinese have their own?"

"Don't think they did," said P4-84. "But I've heard that power armour isn't unstoppable. The coursers mentioned big rifles or enough laser-fire breaking through."

A gen-2 guard approached and spoke in a deep robotic-voice. "Please ignore the past and carry on with your duties. We must enter Fort Hagen as quickly as possible."

K6-26 turned its gaze to the glowing green mushrooms on the ground. P4-84 took notice.

"Oh, I know that! They're called 'glowing fungus' and are used in a variety of medicines. RadAway being one of them."

"Come on!" said the blond synth up ahead. "Stop wasting time!"

Its blonde colleague agreed.

"All right, all right." P4-84 knelt to pick a fungus and handed it to K6-26. "A souvenir, I guess."

K6-26 pulled its hand away at once, letting the fungus fall to the ground. "Eurgh! It's full of radiation and who knows what else!"

P4-84 and B1-97 laughed.

The synths passed the door and took the staircase down to the garage. There were more glowing fungi in a corner along the way, but the group ignored them. Instead, the machines focused on the makeshift campsite in the garage.

"What a pity," said P4-84. "Makes you wonder what their life-story was."

The campsite had an old dirty bed, a cabinet, and a rusted vehicle along the far wall. Around the corner to the right there were shelves and a chemistry station. And around the next corner there were a white-and-blue couch chair and an end table. The remains of a skeleton lay slumped on the ground at the foot of the chair. It had tattered bits of brown clothing on it.

"Yep," said B1-97 as the group eyed the skeleton, "that's the surface for you. Nothing but endless violence and death up here. Rest in peace, whoever you were."

"Inside, please," said a gen-2 in a light robotic-voice.

The synths passed through the doorway on the right and crossed another section of the garage. There was a door up ahead, beneath a lit red sign that read 'EXIT'.

Once inside, the group arrived in a short passage which had a staircase to the left and a door on its end. The machines chose to follow the staircase and passed an ancient skeleton of a soldier along the way. B1-97 stopped to wish this deceased comfort in the afterlife as well.

"All right, enough," said the blonde synth walking in front. "Just leave the dead alone. Not like they can help us."

Its blond colleague agreed. "Focus on the salvage."

The blond-synths broke away to explore the first level of offices, past an empty protectron-pod. But as for K6-26, P4-84, and B1-97, the trio followed the staircase to the top and chose to search the upper-level instead. This brought the trio to a large open area of rooms, but with little of note.

What a mess.

Some of the flooring had collapsed, so the trio had to exercise caution during the search. Unfortunately, nearly everything had been picked clean by now. K6-26 felt a tinge of disappointment as it wandered through several rooms only to come up empty-handed. The only things of note were decayed furniture and more ancient skeletons on the ground.

"Let's go down," said P4-84.

The trio dropped through a large hole in the floor and landed in one of the offices below. Annoyingly, the blond synths had already stashed several items in one of the crates. These included the remains of a turret, and scraps of a long-destroyed gen-1.

"Go look somewhere else," said the blonde synth. "This is our section."

P4-84 scowled and stomped its foot on the floor. "As if we wanted to be near you! Come on, team, let's go find some real salvage!"

The trio's journey led to a lengthy rectangular room, which had an elevator at its end. Grinning, P4-84 and B1-97 ran past the annoyed blond synth and beat it to the elevator. The pair were followed by K6-26, which shook its head in amusement.

Like a bunch of children.

The trio rode the elevator down to a long tunnel. The first door on the left was from across the passage from where the synths had entered the building. K6-26 face-palmed.

"Should've just came here in the first place."

B1-97 looked amused. "Oh well. At least we beat the others to it. Let's see what's down here."

But again, most of the area had already been picked clean. K6-26 and its roommates rummaged through numerous crates and cabinets in the rooms, but to no avail. The trio found nothing of note in the first section of underground facilities, so the synths went deeper. This led to a few staircases down and another passage.

"Finally," said B1-97 as the trio passed through a security room. "Some good news."

The trio saw the remains of a turret on the ground, as well as a Tesla trap on the roof. The trap had once been connected to a tension trigger on the security door.

"Hey," said P4-84 to K6-26 while looking up at the Tesla trap. "You mind lending a hand?"

It wasn't too hard for K6-26 to hoist P4-84 up on the shoulders. K6-26 stood like a synth ladder while its female roommate got to work in dismantling the trap. It took a few minutes to get the spherical contraption off the roof.

"Cool." B1-97 came to inspect the trap in P4-84's hands, once K6-26 lowered its roommate to the ground. "There's gotta be some copper and steel in there. Circuitry as well."

As for the wrecked turret, it could still be salvaged for some steel, circuitry, a power-relay coil, and two fuses. The trio stashed them into one of the metal crates immediately.

Moving on, the trio followed the passage deeper into the facility. This took the machines to another security-room with a wrecked turret. But unlike the previous one, this turret still had a bullet in its salvage.

"Whoa there!" P4-84 rushed to K6-26's side as the latter knelt to retrieve the bullet. "Careful, now! You could get hurt!"

But K6-26 was far too fascinated by the bullet to care. It held it up to the light for inspection.

"What do you think this is?" K6-26 asked. "It's like two-inches long or something. Must be made of lead and stuff."

B1-97 came closer to eye the bullet. "There's volatile powder in there, so be careful. Wouldn't want it to fire accidentally."

K6-26 kept the bullet between its thumb and index finger while inspecting it. "I wonder how this bullet compares to the others out here?"

P4-84 smiled and shook its head. "Actually, the correct term is 'cartridge' or 'round'. The bullet is only the top part."

"OK, smarty pants," said K6-26, somewhat amused, "since you're so knowledgeable about all this, tell me what bul – er, cartridge this is?"

B1-97 snorted with laughter. "You mean 'calibre', right?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." K6-26 rolled its eyes. "So, what is it?"

P4-84 shrugged. "I dunno. Er ..." It looked around and gave a squeak of delight. "Oh, I know! It's 5.56!"

K6-26 frowned. "I thought you said you didn't know?"

"It says so on the turret. Kinda faded, though."

"Good eyes," said B1-97. It gave P4-84 a high-five and stood proudly. "We should all be a little more observant in here. Wouldn't want to miss the good stuff."

With nothing else left to salvage, the trio pushed deeper into the facility. The machines passed through a large door leading to a rather important-looking part of the facility. There were many large – albeit decayed – terminals and other electronics around the room. Fortunately, the trio were joined by one of the gen-2 guards, which could provide information.

"Hey," said K6-26 to the guard, "can you tell me what round this is? P4 says it's a '5.56' or something."

The gen-2 stared at the cartridge in K6-26's palm for a moment. It replied in a deep robotic-voice.

"That is correct. It is a 5.56x45mm calibre. Intermediate cartridge."

K6-26 scratched its head. "What cartridge?"

"Intermediate," said the gen-2. "It is longer than pistol rounds but shorter than full-powered rifle ones. The surface-dwellers tend to use whatever they can get their hands on, so the Institute must always be prepared. Our armour and the coursers' gear are able to withstand even rifle-fire."

Fascinating. K6-26 loved hearing all these facts, but then the gen-2 ushered it along.

"Your curiosity is noted, but we must make haste. This operation will end in 72 minutes and 15 seconds."

B1-97 bounced on its heels as if preparing to run. "Well, you heard the synth. Gotta get a move on!"

It rushed to the far side of the intel room, as did P4-84. Together, the pair scrounged through whatever machinery and furniture was still left and procured several vacuum-tubes.

"Nice!" K6-26 strode towards the exit, with a metal crate in hand. "But I'm heading deeper."

The rest of the underground facility was as massive as expected. The main passage ran alongside another intel-room on the left, which had two security doors that were open. There was an elevator at the far end of the passage.

P4-84 and B1-97 hurried along to explore the room.

"This must be the heart of the facility," said P4-84. It stood overlooking the command centre. "Must've been one heck of a fight."

K6-26 spotted it as well. There were several bullet-holes in some of the computers and the walls. And the dozens of melted holes and laser burns everywhere indicated a barrage of energy-weapon fire. There were also numerous holes and burns in the main passage and to the sides.

K6-26 looked puzzled. "What happened here?"

The gen-2 guard replied in its deep robotic-voice. "This facility was once used by one of our surface operatives, Conrad Kellogg. Operative Kellogg was terminated by the director's parent in the third-quarter last year."

"Was Kellogg human?" K6-26 asked. The gen-2 nodded.

"Affirmative, although he did have a number of cybernetic enhancements. Please return to your duties."

And the synths pushed on. K6-26 went about exploring the command centre. It came across bits of gen-1 scrap and the remains of a human skeleton on the floor near a desk. The skeleton seemed to fit the timeframe provided by the gen-2, leading K6-26 to believe that this was what remained of Conrad Kellogg. The only bits of clothing he had were perished underwear.

"What a shame," said P4-84. "Makes you wonder who looted him. Think it was Father's parent or whoever else came down here since then?"

B1-97 shrugged. "Not sure, but I suppose he should rest in peace. Let's hope we don't end up the same way out here. The surface world is nothing but violence."

K6-26 looked around and saw bits of Institute tech here and there. The most notable one was an Institute terminal, though it had been smashed and scavenged by now. The other electronics were in various states of salvage as well. Even the steamer trunk against the wall had been broken down by scavengers.

Moving on, the trio went through a security door at the far end of the command centre. This took the machines to a short passage that turned right and emerged in a large circular office. It had been converted into a bedroom which had Institute furniture, including a bed on the left.

"Oh, look!" P4-84 pointed excitedly at a dresser near the Institute bed. "A radio!"

The old device stood rusting atop the dresser facing the bed.

"Well, now." K6-26 stretched out its arms and hands before it. "Let's see what the savages have to offer."

It took a few seconds to turn on the radio, and a few more to adjust it. K6-26 tuned the device to the frequency marked as 'DC Radio'. A male voice could be heard.

"This is, er ... 'Baby, It's Just You' by Magnolia. You know, from, er ... from Goodneighbor."

A slow, jazzy song began to play. Its catchy tune was joined by a woman singing in a jazzy tone. Her opening lyrics included an earthquake, starting to roll, she felt her world shake, out of control.

"Nice." K6-26 smiled. "I like this song."

"Me too," said B1-97.

"Same here!" P4-84 nodded.

The trio carried on with their salvaging, enjoying the voice of whoever this Magnolia woman was. The pair of P4-84 and B1-97 couldn't help dancing together as Magnolia sung about being breathless, weak in the knees, and that she was feeling reckless, pardon her please.

"Come on!" P4-84 beckoned K6-26 over. "Don't be boring."

K6-26 felt somewhat awkward. "Er, I can't dance. Never tried it before."

"Well ..." P4-84 extended its right arm. "There's a first time for everything."

After a moment's hesitation, K6-26 shrugged and accepted the offer. Its eyes went wide as P4-84 pulled it into a sudden dance.

This is ridiculous. K6-26 felt its cheeks blush in embarrassment. The heck am I even doing?

Confused, K6-26 tried to go along with the dance. It attempted to mimic P4-84's quick moves as Magnolia sung about needing help, rescuing her heart, and that she needed to be saved from falling apart.

A gen-2 came running into the circular bedroom, holding its laser rifle at the ready. It spoke in a deep robotic-voice.

"Alert. Hostiles have breached the facility."

Wait, what? K6-26 switched off the radio immediately, just as Magnolia sang about having the power and cure. "Is this a test?"

B1-97 and P4-84 glanced at each other in shock. The gen-2 shook its head.

"Negative. Hostiles have breached Fort Hagen. You must seek shelter wherever possible. I will assist the other second-generations in holding the line."

"Wait!" P4-84 stepped forward and reached out, as the gen-2 dashed out the room. "Don't go!"

B1-97 looked at P4-84 in horror as a frenzy of combat could be heard in the distance. The sounds of laser rifles and the odd explosion came from somewhere in the command centre.

This was really happening. They were under attack!