1090-?-?

Somewhere in Terra

In edges of Ursus' vast northern tundra

Wrong man in wrong time arrives just in right place


Under the gloomy gray sky, the cold air settled in as the sprawling slums stretched forth endlessly, built haphazardly on top of one another with no concern for aesthetics. What little semblance of livelihood remained for its residents was in disarray, buried under knee-deep snow from a hasty retreat. Among the overflowing trash, one of the bin began to move on its own. It clattered onto the pavement as something inside kicked the lid with such force that the weak lock snapped. Out crawled Lucky Six, fully clad in modified advanced riot gear, disoriented and confused, emerging from the mountain of trash.

Brushing off the debris clinging to his armor, Lucky Six regained his footing and scanned his surroundings. The alleyway he found himself in felt distinctly different from anything he'd seen in the United States. As he noticed a piece of newspaper stuck to the heel of his boot, he instinctively grabbed it to toss it away. Just before discarding it, however, he realized the writing wasn't in English. His eyes narrowed in confusion as he studied it closely.

"Strange... This looks like part of the Latin alphabet but with extra lines here and there. Hmm, never seen this character before," he muttered, rotating the paper to examine it from different angles. The unfamiliar symbols frustrated him. Bringing up his Pip-Boy's scanner, it returned only gibberish. "It must be from somewhere in Europe," he thought, though the exact origin eluded him. "Soviet, maybe?" he mused. If only he'd seen more of their writing, he might have known.


Massive Unstable Originium Deposit Discovered Near City, Experts Warn of Imminent Detonation!

In a dire revelation, authorities have uncovered a massive deposit of unstable Originium perilously close to the city. Experts under state directive have warned of a potential detonation within the next (rest of the text is unreadable)

Martial Law Declared: Immediate Evacuation Ordered for All Citizens

In light of the imminent danger (rest of the text is unreadable) Failure to comply with evacuation orders will result in severe penalties. The government officials assures the public that these actions are necessary as the (rest of the text is unreadable)

Riots Erupt in Infected District, Garrison Forces on High Alert Amid Growing Chaos

(texts are unreadable) In response to the escalating violence, Territorial defense, Royal Guards have been placed on high alert (rest of the text is unreadable) The government officials condemns the riots as (rest of the text is unreadable) any disruption will be met with swift and uncompromising force.


Neatly folding the paper, Lucky Six tucked it into his pocket. "Weird. I'll have to ask a Follower linguist about it when I find one." Straightening his posture, he scanned the alley once again. "Now... the important question, where in Uncle Sam's hell am I?"

Taking cautious steps forward, he stayed alert for any signs of life. As a chilly wind blew through the desolate buildings and under his coat, he relaxed his stance slightly. For now, it seemed he was alone. Fiddling with his Pip-Boy, he accessed the map function. "GPS at 0,0? Sensors must be damaged," he grumbled, attempting to recalibrate the device, but to no avail. Another thing to fix later.

Switching to the compass view, he turned his body to test its accuracy, relieved when it still pointed correctly. Taking a deep breath, he stretched his neck, his vertebrae cracking audibly. At least he wasn't completely lost, he thought.

Feeling the dryness of his lips, he instinctively detached the rebreather from his helmet, letting it hang as he reached for his trusty Vault 13 canteen. The water tasted foul, but he drank it all, wasting none of the precious liquid. As the icy wind bit at his exposed skin, he couldn't help but notice how much colder it felt here, even colder that of "Jacob's Town" that time. Looking around, he saw the blanket of snow covering everything.

"Was I really that far north?"

Switching his Pip-Boy's map to the local area, the screen now showed a rudimentary layout of his surroundings. As he walked through the snow-covered streets, his eyes scanned the disrepair of remnants typical of cities like this. Overhead, the sky remained dark and ominously orange.

"Looks like a storm is coming. Finding shelter shouldn't be hard here, but I need to move fast before I get stranded." Turning to grab his backpack, he realized with a confusion that it was missing.

"Shit"

He quickly glanced over his shoulder, confirming that his military backpack was gone. Backtracking back to the garbage pile he'd emerged from, he began to dig through it, hoping to find his gear.

After some frantic searching, he caught a glimpse of something glowing, a blue halo-like object. A Valence radii-accentuator. Placing it on his head, he felt the protective barrier activate. After another minutes of searching, he found no other trace of his equipment. Frustrated, he sat on the snowy sidewalk, wiping the filth from his gloves. Losing his gear was a setback, but most of it could be replaced or scavenged later.

He stood up and decided to explore further to orient his location. After trudging through a few streets, he climbed to the rooftops for a better vantage point. The slums stretched around a large crater. What struck him was that the buildings he'd been walking past were relatively new, built within the last decade. These weren't makeshift settlements built in haste.

'Perhaps it was a town that had expanded after the war? But why leave it like this?'

Pushing those thoughts aside, he set his sights on the crater for investigation. Sliding down from the building, he made his way toward it. The wind grew stronger, and the eerie silence of the city gave away to fact that this area was completely desolate of life. Lucky Six did wonder about why it was so desolate.

Arriving at the crater's edge, he realized it wasn't a crater at all. It was disrupted soil, Something colossal had plowed through here. Kneeling down to examine the ground, he could tell whatever had caused this had moved southeast .

As the sky began to twist into an ominous orange, the wind picked up speed, blowing snow away in the same direction he was looking at. Lucky Six glanced at his Pip-Boy 15:30. Yet, judging by the sun, it couldn't be past midday. Another adjustment that is needed on his hardware.

The sharp crackle of thunder echoed through the city. Turning toward the source of the sound, his eyes widened in disbelief. A massive storm, dark and searing orange, swirled in the distance, surrounded by flashing lightning. At the heart of the storm was a pulsing red glow. It defied all logic a storm of this magnitude in such a climate and terrain was impossible, but there it was, raging toward him with relentless fury.

Taking refuge behind a building, Lucky Six watched as the fragile structures wobbled under the onslaught. Windows shattered from the force of the wind. A gust of red tinged wind surged through the city, and his Geiger counter began to crackle. The air became saturated with glowing red dust.

With growing urgency, he sprinted toward a nearby prison he had spotted earlier. It wasn't a guaranteed shelter, but it was his best shot. As the storm intensified, visibility dropped to near zero. The glowing red dust swirled in front of his face, and he frequently glanced at his Pip-Boy to monitor his health. The Geiger counter was ticking wildly, and the ground trembled as if something enormous had struck the earth.

Finally, after turning one last corner, he arrived at the barred gate of the fortified structure. Navigating to the steel gate, he found the lock. He immediately grasped his lockpick kit, holding the lockpick and a tension wrench as tightly as he could while fighting the intense wind. With seasoned efficiency, he unlocked the gate's mechanism and pushed it open as Lucky Six sprinted toward the building. Behind him, the ground trembled as structures collapsed into rubble under the pressure of the storm. Slamming the door shut, he exhaled.

As the storm raged outside, his eyes scanned the interior of the building. He checked his pip-boy's health status. Strangely, his blood system wasn't irradiated to hell as it normally would be after such exposure. Puzzled but at least relieved, he looked at the empty reception area, where only a lone reception table remained. As he walked over, he traced the desk with his finger, noticing the dust had settled not so long ago.

'Month or so old'

He went further into a long corridor. Lucky Six quickly mapped the building as he explored each room.

"Let's see. Offices, offices, offices... indoor training hall?" he muttered, looking at a room filled with overturned wooden stools, an empty weapon rack, and dirty rags that made the already small training hall look even smaller. Sifting through what was left behind, he spotted a shooting target. Upon closer inspection, the punctures on it were too shallow and wide to have been made by .22lr rounds or BB pellets. They appeared to have been made by broad-headed arrows. Curious, Six headed to the equipment storage room. Opening the wooden door with a creak, he saw an almost empty room with only a few empty crates and straw dummies.

Searching the room for anything hidden, he found a few wooden bolts. Inspecting them, he could tell they were dummy bolts used to train recruits. Seeing nothing else of interest, Six left the training hall.

Continuing down the corridor, he turned and found himself in a mess hall. Like the other rooms, it was left in disarray, with furniture and utensils scattered across the floor. He walked to the serving area where food used to be distributed. The food trays were, as expected, empty. He opened the door to the kitchen to try his luck at finding anything left behind. Surprisingly, some cooking utensils remained inside the sink. Looking at the pots, he noticed they were uncleaned, with mold growing on the food stains. Six then opened the fridge to find rotting, moldy stew left behind.

He grabbed the pot and swirled the stew around, watching as the contents collapsed into a mushy gray-green slop. By judging the mold and the bacterial petri dish it had become, he assessed it carefully. He knew his bionic stomach could break the contents down and extract nutritional value remained. He detached his helmet's rebreather, and as he did, a strong smell assaulted his nose. Unbothered, he quickly gulped down the moldy slop.

"At least it has some kind of taste" he muttered, huffing to rid himself of the putrid aftertaste. Placing the pot down.

"Still more nutritious than 300-year-old cram."

After recovering from the taste, he checked his pip-boy to confirm his food need meter had gone down, not as much as he'd hoped, but it was still something. He made sure to tuck his last MRE securely in his vest.

Satisfied with his meal, he continued down the corridor until he reached a staircase. Descending further, he entered the grim remains of the holding cells as the Geiger counters started crackling. He set the Pip-Boy's screen to monitor his health, glancing at it from time to time. Rusted metal bars and cracked pavement surrounded him. Looking into one of the cells, he saw a decayed corpse still clinging to the metal bars. Numerous scratches marred the floor, either from the bars or from the cell's occupants.

"Pitiful end" he muttered under his breath.

Inspecting the room more closely, he found a thin coat of shimmering crystallization covering the nearby surfaces, including the skeletal remains of the one still clinging to the iron bars. 'Bioweapon?' he pondered, raising his Pip-Boy to scan the crystal. The Pip-Boy's scanners failed to detect or provide any information about the structure of the crystal. Six narrowed his eyes at the screen.

He took out one of his knives to sample the strange crystallization. As the tip of his blade scratched the dark coating, it cracked like glass. He carefully sealed a small sample into a tiny plastic bag. He inspected the sample as he rotated the bag to examine it from different angles. It was a black, glossy crystal.

Putting it into one of his pouches, he continued to check the cells before coming to a conclusion. Strangely, the rest of the cells were also covered with similar black, glossy crystals, forming unmistakable dark hand marks left behind inside and in front of each cell. Despite that, there were no skeletons like the one in the first cell.

He sighed at the scene. He wasn't a man of faith, nor did he adhere to tribal customs, but a habit had formed over the years.

"Rest easy" he muttered absently, before walking back up the stairs as storm continued to rage around the building.


Explorer Riot gear - A modified Advanced Riot gear, the fabric of Kevlar is laced with radiation-resistant linen, making it look dark gray instead of dark brown. Many of the original armor plates were swapped out for new experimental alloys, with each plate segment having the manufacturer "FoA ."

Explorer Riot helmet (custom) - A modified Advanced Riot helmet, painted with many decorative drawings by Six. The center of the helmet features a faded icon of the Followers of Apocalypse, which has not been maintained unlike the rest of the drawings. On one side, there is a rose intertwined with a whiskey bottle. Next to it are a sombrero and serape, which are quite detailed compared to other similarly drawn images. Further along, there are writings. The most prominent one is the number Six, followed by the Latin phrase "electi tabellarium." On the opposite side, it is written in English: "EX-press courier," followed by "Shoot and die," and below that, "Fuck off NCR"

electi tabellarium - Chosen Courier, Chosen carrier. I dunno, i just picked a google trasnlate. I don't even speak latin.