"... In short, miniaturization pertains to the trend of continually designing smaller and smaller pieces of technology, such that the original function is preserved while decreasing the overall size of the given unit. This yields many benefits, the most obvious being compactness and portability. When an instrument is decreased in mass, one may allocate the resultant freed space toward other components of a system, or for more systems altogether. This is especially important in a scientific research setting, where the investigating parties may want to optimize the efficiency of analytical equipment. Generally, the draws are faster analysis times, lower required sample size, and reduced operational costs altogether."

"At the cost of increased system complexity. The more complicated a system is, the more difficult it is to [Repair]."

"Indeed! However, standardized troubleshooting and quality control measures are becoming far more commonplace among manufacturers of more technologically sophisticated machinery, allowing for one with only a layman's knowledge, some literacy, and time to successfully diagnose the problem and switch out the malfunctioning part - or pass on the task to a dedicated engineer who is equipped to do it in a timely fashion. That said, while the benefits yielded have overall led investors and engineering firms to push for the miniaturization of commercial electronics, such as cell phones, personal computers, laptops, and many more, this design philosophy carries with it a slew of other issues that developers of new technology must address or work around. One of the foremost pertains to metal–oxide–semiconductor field-effect transistors; the most heavily discussed theory posits that the number of transistors on an integrated circuit chip will double, on estimate, every two years. While seemingly insignificant, especially on something as miniscule as a microchip, this has directly resulted in an exponential increase in transistor density over the years and enables manufacturers to design their electronics smaller with every iteration. Though this observation has generally been consistent with technological development over the years, common sense and a cursory understanding of physics dictates there's only so much you can do to miniaturize a system before you hit a metaphorical and theoretical wall, forcing one to either decrease the complexity of the system or maintain current system specifications."

"Because otherwise you'd be working on the scale of subatomic particles?"

"Yes! Exactly! While not even getting into the various issues with heat dissipation and thermodynamic limits, designing technology at increasingly smaller scales makes products susceptible to the uncertainty brought on by quantum behavior. As I'm sure you know, on the scale of subatomic particles and their constituents, matter tends to act unpredictably - or at least, unpredictably insofar as the technology is compact enough to remain useful over its competitors. Quantum computing aimed at circumventing the physical limits of traditional computers are being researched, but it is projected that conventional computers will remain the de facto option when it comes to everyday use, at least for the foreseeable future. Ah, but back to miniaturization…"

The Millennium student with a messy uniform and short blonde hair pushed up her oddly shaped glasses, ready to continue speaking, when her classmate across the room poked her purple-haired head up, her unusual halo with knifelike satellites following along.

"While we're on the topic of miniaturization, it is worth noting that smaller does not always equal better," Utaha commented.

"Yeah. Our first draft of the cheerbot for the Halo Festival coming up is one example. One cannot expect to cheer on a larger quantity of students without also increasing the cheer factor, proportional to the mass of the cheering entity or entities," a student with black hair, dog-like ears, and a bushy tail added as she glanced over at Kotori and me.

"Cheerbot…?" I asked skeptically.

"Mm-hm!" Kotori nodded energetically. "Millennium is known for its expertise in robotics, above nearly all else. When Seminar asks us for help, we'll already have the schematics drafted and ready to be submitted for final approval!"

"What do you mean, when they ask you for help? You mean they haven't asked you yet?"

"Not yet. But they will; it would only make sense," Hibiki replied.

"The Engineering Club is at the forefront of Millennium's mechanical development. And that is no exaggeration; we have the patents to prove it," Utaha stated matter-of-factly. "Since Millennium's biggest selling point is its tech, Seminar will doubtlessly enlist our help for something that'd give the Halo Festival that special 'oomph' it needs to stand out."

"Halo Festival…" I muttered. Yuuka did mention that at some point, right. "That's still some time away, isn't it? I don't think they've even chosen a location for it yet."

"It's going to be Millennium," Hibiki said with certainty, nodding excitedly, her ears flopping in sync. "Only a few academies are capable of hosting an event of that scale. The past festivals were all done sequentially, which means it's our turn this time around."

"Makes sense. Mostly." I still didn't know why one needed to design a robot just for cheering, but the Engineering Club's initiative for a rather distant event that wasn't even guaranteed to happen was something to be lauded, at the very least.

Hibiki went back to the literal drawing board, looking intently at some detailed schematics while Utaha produced a tablet and began scrolling through several pages of information.

"Let's see… where were we…" Kotori thoughtfully said.

"Miniaturization and the hurdles that quantum computing attempts to overcome," I answered.

"Right! So, as we were saying, the challenges presented by miniaturization… were…. Uh…" Kotori blinked, then scratched the top of her head in puzzlement. "Huh. That's odd."

"What's odd?"

"Well, we've been over at least five topics…"

"And?"

"And you haven't tried to excuse yourself to the bathroom only to never come back, suddenly become ill, attempted to run away, or feigned spontaneous cardiac arrest..."

"... Am I supposed to do those things?" I slowly asked, growing more concerned with each subsequent addition.

"Not necessarily, no." Kotori looked away awkwardly. "But it often happens when someone asks me to explain something. It's puzzling, really; you'd even start to wonder if people were avoiding my explanations. But why would people settle for anything less than the best, most in-depth answers to their questions?"

"I wonder about that myself…" I said, glancing to the side toward my companion who'd been awfully silent since the first five minutes Kotori began speaking.

Shiroko, in an extremely impressive imitation of her senior, had nodded off while standing. Were sleeping students supposed to have a bubble on their noses that inflates in sync with their breathing?

Another Kivotos oddity worth researching, I suppose.

"Right?! Millennium is an academy that is concerned with scientific discovery! It's unfathomable that students here would sooner plunge their heads in the sand than try to understand the minutiae that comprise their holistic view of science!" Kotori said regretfully. "But Sensei understands the importance of the little picture. Of course he would, being the best teacher in Kivotos!"

Uh, yeah, I think I might be the only damn teacher in Kivotos…

"Sure," I replied slowly, trying to find the best way to break it to her. "Kotori, when did I get here?"

"Huh? Um…" Kotori paused for a moment. "Around five, I think?"

"Right. And what time is it now?"

"Er… a quarter past five?"

"It's almost seven, Kotori-chan," Utaha helpfully clarified without looking up from her tablet.

"E-ehhh?" Kotori swiveled her head toward the digital clock on the far side of the Engineering Club's workshop, becoming visibly disturbed when she found Utaha was right. "How did that happen?! I could've sworn you just walked in not too long ago, you asked about 3-D printers, then we spoke about the development of contemporary technology, which led to a whole discussion about transistors and their role in modern industrialization…"

I nodded as she trailed off. "Incidentally, what's the average attention span of a human being?"

"Researchers are divided on the subject due to the innate subjectivity associated with the measurement of attention spans along with other confounding variables!" Kotori replied instantly, the [Science] question bringing her right back into her element. "That said, a ballpark estimate that is cited by many psychological case studies includes a range from two seconds to just over twenty… minutes… oh."

"Mm-hm…" I patiently waited for her to reach her own conclusion.

Kotori broke into a sweat as she anxiously laughed. "W-well… it's been found that one's attention span can be renewed continuously for several hours when the subject focus is an activity one typically enjoys…"

"But most questions people have are probably out of mild curiosity, at best. Certainly not something that warrants their full, undivided attention for several hours."

"But… but… science…"

"Even Millennium students sometimes have things to do other than [Science]," I reasoned. Noticing Kotori looked particularly perturbed, as if the thought had never crossed her mind, I quickly added, "Not that it's a problem to me. I had nothing else in mind for the rest of the day. But try not to take it personally if someone has to excuse themselves early, kiddo."

I wasn't merely making things up to make Kotori feel better, either. The loss of a good part of the evening was regrettable, but it was actually preferable that we arrive at where we were going when it's dark out. Discussing Kivotos' technological limits with one of Millennium's Meisters - that is, the school's premier technological innovators - was not a terrible pastime in itself.

And it helped that, thanks to a certain courier, I had an extremely high tolerance of long-winded ramblings with no discernible end in sight. Kotori's lectures at least had the benefit of being interesting.

Kotori managed a sheepish smile. "I won't. I guess I just never considered that people might become strapped for time, since time seems to fly whenever I delve into a topic…" She pushed up her glasses as she beamed, leading me toward where the two other Meisters were working. "I have a long way to go before I'm as good a lecturer as you, Sensei."

"I'm… sure you'll get there someday," I hesitantly said.

Honestly, I wasn't sure how Kotori had come to the conclusion that I was the prime example of a competent lecturer. Most attendees didn't seem like they were attending because they required someone who was necessarily good at explaining things, examples being Ako and that reporter keeping tabs on my every move, or a certain duo who only seemed to concern themselves with anything that could be even tangentially related to trains.

"We wanted to attend earlier too, actually," Hibiki said. "But we happened to be working on a project on that day, and seats filled up long before we were able to see the notification on Millennium's news network."

"You might try writing a script to reserve seats as soon as it becomes available," Utaha suggested. "For next time."

… There's a next time?

"Or we could ask Veritas, since Schale probably employs CAPTCHA technology on their websites," Kotori said thoughtfully. "We're no slouches when it comes to software, but they'd be able to code something more reliable than we could, and in a fraction of the time, too."

CAPTCHAs… I thought. Those were the reverse Turing Test things I encountered when Arona was walking me through buying raw materials online. Pretty interesting solution for countering automated text recognition employed by robots, but useless in the face of any decently advanced AI. They certainly didn't deter Arona, unless slowing her down by making her laugh at their uselessness counted as deterrence.

At that moment, a low grumbling sound emanated from the bespectacled Meister, and she sheepishly looked away. "Oops, sorry. Haven't had dinner, since, you know…" Kotori's eyes widened, and she turned to the other Meisters. "Wait, Utaha-senpai! Weren't we supposed to go out to pick up some proper food an hour ago? Since we've been having nothing but pizza and junk food for the past week… Not exactly representative of a balanced diet…"

"We were, yes." Utaha cleared up some space on a nearby bench and placed her tablet on it. "But it's not every day you find someone who's as good of a listener as Sensei."

"Someone who you can talk to at length about your interests is a rare find, even in Millennium," Hibiki agreed, smiling. "We can wait for a few hours, if need be."

"Uuugh…" Kotori only looked more guilty from her classmates' reassurances, but Utaha was quick to speak up.

"Don't worry, we'll close up shop soon. But before we do that, why don't we see to our guest first?"

"Right, right!" Kotori nodded enthusiastically, facing me. "I didn't get a chance to ask you, Sensei, since we got caught up in that whole discussion, but what brings you to our workshop? Did you have more questions?"

"Many come to us for repair jobs, do you have something for us?" Hibiki suggested, her canine ears perking when she saw the RobCo tech on my arm. "Or… looking for an upgrade?"

"Or perhaps a custom order," Utaha said, also glancing at the device, then at the arsenal I was carrying. "After all, our expertise is not only in robotics, but also in weaponry."

The trio of Meisters waited for my response expectantly.

By now, the commotion had woken Shiroko up, and she somewhat groggily trotted over, rejoining us, though she didn't seem quite as enthused as the Meisters.

"I saw this place and I wanted to see what was inside," I answered honestly.

"I see. The entrepreneurial spirit of an explorer." Utaha nodded, the three Meisters looking rather pleased by the answer. "We can certainly relate. Kotori also mentioned offhand who we are and what we do at Millennium, but we prefer not only telling, but showing."

"So how about we give you a tour of a Meister's workshop instead?" Hibiki offered.

"And if you have any questions, I'll be happy to assist! I'll even truncate my answers to a maximum of five thousand words!" Kotori added.

Shiroko visibly cringed at Kotori's words, and turned to me pleadingly, ears flat against her head.

After checking my Pip-Boy, I nodded at Kotori, to Shiroko's silent despair. Her fault for tagging along. "Sure, we've got a bit of time."

"Excellent. Then, please follow us."

Utaha began to lead us away from the entrance of the workshop to a large adjoining room. The room's walls were labeled with the words 'Hangar Two' but were otherwise covered almost entirely with busy shelves holding various bits of tech and junk in a quantity that resonated with my avaricious prospector's heart. Held on the workbenches throughout the room were what I assumed were inventions in varying degrees of completion.

"Welcome to Hangar 2. Here, we tune up or finish off prototypes that are past the planning and production stages. You can see several of our prototypes; some waiting for the finishing touches, some others are placed on the backburner."

"Backburner? So, for failed prototypes, I'm guessing?"

"'Failed' is not in the Meister's dictionary," Utaha insisted. "Everything one builds, even if it unexpectedly falls short of its original purpose, serves to edify, to further their understanding of the physical realm, to better their craft. While some of these prototypes are - and we say this only with the utmost regret - impractical for real use, we hope that we can one day repurpose them for a proper niche."

"That's a long way to say 'failed'," Shiroko muttered.

I held a hand to my chin as I looked over some of the prototypes populating one corner of the hangar.

Indeed, many of them were weapon prototypes. A few of them had peculiar designs, obviously experimental, while others seemed normal, just with the addition of peculiar attachments and minute modifications. One even had a transparent underbarrel of a semi-viscous liquid resembling ketchup, which made me wonder about the attachment's true purpose; there was no way someone, especially not Millennium's brightest minds, would add something like a condiment dispenser to a gun.

Another section of the hangar was dedicated to several series of seemingly mundane objects. Most of them made sense for engineers to be working on - radios, appliances, and the like.

"Hey, what's this one?" I asked, pointing at a medium-sized, vaguely rectangular object. It was sleek and was coated with a very aesthetically pleasing silver finish, but other than looking like someone spent way too much time on its creation, it, for all intents and purposes, resembled a paperweight.

"That's a paperweight!" Kotori happily said.

"Oh. Thought it was one of your inventions."

"It is!" Hibiki proudly pointed out. "Mine, specifically. Utaha-senpai helped out with the presentation."

"Aesthetics are as essential a component of any invention as functionality," Utaha said.

My opinion shifted within the timespan of a few spoken sentences.

Of course. This is Kivotos. There has to be something wrong with people, even engineers. No exceptions.

"Alright. What's… special about this paperweight?"

"I'm glad you asked," Hibiki said. "The Engineering Club, incidentally, also specializes in giving your mundane day-to-day knick knacks that special futuristic flair. In particular, the Dedicated Espionage Deterrent, or DED-"

"That acronym is rather concerning."

"-aims to ensure the safety of one's documents in more ways than one. Not only does it secure papers against pesky drafts, it also keeps them safe from those who would look to steal your work for nefarious ends."

"And how does it do that…?"

"Simple. It primes itself when the owner is away from their desk, then detonates whenever someone who is not the owner draws near," Hibiki explained brightly. "The blast mechanism is supplemented by napalm, so your documents should be safely incinerated immediately upon detonation along with the would-be thief… and the rest of your desk… and computer… and the rest of your office with it, but you can never be too sure, right?"

'DED', indeed…

"And of course, the safety of the consumer is our number one concern!" Kotori added. "Thus, we made sure to reinforce the DED's exterior and make it impervious to even the average gunman's rounds, so that it won't go off in your everyday firefight!"

"Had to compromise on the blast resistance, though," Utaha muttered, shaking her head in slight regret. "Would be counterproductive for the self-destruct function."

How did they go from making a paperweight into a bulletproof incendiary landmine?

That is one of the most massive leaps in logic I've ever heard.

Frankly, I am appalled.

Absolutely ridiculous.

"Got any in stock?" I asked, ignoring the strange look my companion gave me. "I'd like some too. For [Science]."

"Not at the moment, no. It never left the prototype stage you see here. To tell you the truth, nobody we pitched the concept to seemed interested in the idea. They called it an affront to common sense," Hibiki admitted.

"I wouldn't put any stock in their claims, Hibiki-chan," Utaha consoled. "So-called 'common sense' is detrimental to the free thinker."

"Thank you, Senpai. But that's alright, Sensei already has proven them wrong."

"Because no one has more common sense than Sensei!" Arona commented, unheard by everyone but me. I wasn't sure if she was being sarcastic.

"Anyway, I'll make a few more, so you'll be the first to know." Hibiki then sheepishly added, "... And I'll even throw in Bluetooth functionality, as my way of saying thank you."

I wasn't sure what that was, but blue teeth didn't sound healthy by any metric. Still, landmines were landmines, even if needlessly fancy. "I appreciate it."

We kept moving throughout the hangar, and this time, Shiroko spoke up.

"Do you guys work on drones too?"

"Do we ever!" Kotori piped up, and Shiroko recoiled with the same dread of someone about to be crucified. "It depends on the model, but for most cases, yes! We can accurately diagnose and repair just about anything wrong with a drone. If you want to add extraneous functionality as well, that can be arranged. We are able to add custom effects tailored to your needs, or if you have an existing design you wish to incorporate it, you can supply us with-"

"Excuse me for a moment," I interjected on behalf of my companion. "But what Shiroko meant was to ask if we can see some of your robot prototypes so she can find something that works for her."

"Ah, a demonstration then!" Kotori exclaimed, while Shiroko exhaled in relief. "Unfortunately, the only robotics project we're close to finalizing… er…"

"Went back to the drawing board," Hibiki finished.

Utaha brought up her tablet and slid a few tabs on the screen. The tablet then projected a rotating bluish, transparent, holographic image before us. It was a large robot that sported two twin chainguns and heavy armor, obviously optimized for combat. In fact, it reminded me of a RobCo Sentry Bot, just without the tripod wheels… or any kind of treads, for that matter. Judging by the propeller ports, this thing was supposed to… fly?

"It looks tough," Shiroko commented, naturally interested. "But a bit heavy for a combat drone…"

"Oh, this is not a combat drone," Hibiki replied.

Utaha nodded. "Indeed. Combat is merely its auxiliary function."

Shiroko and I shared one mutual look of befuddlement.

"Okay… so what is its main function?" I slowly asked.

"Let me paint a scenario for you, Sensei," Kotori began. "You are beginning a trip to the forest near Millennium to conduct experiments and survey the local groundwater deposit for a scientific project. The sun begins to set, so, as is ingrained in you from myriad TV shows, movies, and the internet, you start to set up camp to rest in preparation for a long day of scientific discovery on the morrow. As you lay curled up before your artificially-prepared campfire, you take out your phone to while away some hours before it's time to sleep. Only to discover, to your dismay, there's no signal!"

Eugh. Old World problems…

I crossed my arms while Shiroko boredly stretched hers. Camping was something people did before the bombs, when they craved a reprieve from the bustling pre-War civil life; certainly not a concept that the average Wastelander could comprehend. Worrying about cell phone connection, even less so.

"Most phone games nowadays are online, and streaming services require internet, so that leaves entertainment out of the picture. And since this is only an expedition, most of your research materials are back at your nice, climate-controlled workshop back at school, so you can't even work either! What is a girl to do, so far removed from the amenities of civilization?!"

Utaha cleared her throat. "Well, that would've been our sales pitch to Seminar, had the patent not fallen through. But in any event, this is our answer to those problems Kotori mentioned. This mobile entertainment platform houses every one of the latest technological luxuries catering to the discerning techie, from the most rigorous scientific researchers to the most hardcore gamers."

"4k compatible projectors!" Kotori said. "The latest graphics cards! Several series of processors capable of supporting multiple desktop instances for collaboration and local multiplayer!"

"As well as other essential upgrades, such as USB ports, radio, satellite internet, climate control systems, insect zappers, bear spray, self-destruct functionality, integrated cupholders…" Utaha listed.

"Bluetooth connectivity…" Hibiki added.

"And pre-installed BOOM, though that goes without mentioning!" Kotori exclaimed. "Running BOOM is a soft requirement for anything with computing power, really…"

What is BOOM…?

"Uh-huh…" I said, before they continued to list other ridiculous additions to the robot. "So… why does it need heavy armor and miniguns?"

"Oh, those are just in case you get into any… disagreements with other camping parties. Happens more often than you might think," Hibiki commented offhandedly.

"It's the contingencies you really have to prepare for," Utaha said firmly.

While I normally would agree, this seems excessive. Maybe not for the Wasteland, but…

Wait.

Portable TV, radio, weapons systems…

Aren't they just trying to make an Eyebot? Or a Sentry Bot with Eyebot functions, plus a bunch of pointless bells and whistles…?

"So, what's wrong with it?" Shiroko asked, causing the Meisters to quiet down.

"Well…" Kotori scratched the back of her head awkwardly. "We decided against giving it tracked treads due to the terrain of many of Kivotos' forests giving tanks trouble. So we went with heavy load propellers. But the problem arises with energy consumption."

"Generating the amount of lift for a normal drone is peanuts. But something like this, with heavy weaponry and extensive modifications?" Hibiki averted her eyes. "The drone can last for about an hour before needing to recharge."

"Not many compatible recharge stations in the wilderness, unless you were to construct one. Eheh…" Kotori said.

Ah. I see.

They made something to make the wilderness more bearable, but it ends up being reliant on technology only available back home, which defeats the purpose.

If the problem was in energy consumption, there was probably an easier way around this. No, there definitely was. The Engineering Club, being physicists, probably knew of its existence, but whether they had access to it was another matter entirely.

Still, I wasn't in any hurry to suggest nuclear power as a solution to their conundrum.

I didn't agree with many of the core tenets of the organization's ideology, and their codex indeed espoused myriad ideas that aligned with the unflattering image of militant, quasi-religious techno-fetishists, but I was technically still an ordained Paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel; they never did get around to properly excommunicating me after the Second Battle of Hoover Dam, since returning to Hidden Valley after I became a tech overlord struck me as a hilariously terrible idea. Despite now being at odds with them, I did agree with the Brotherhood in that technology could be extremely dangerous in the wrong hands.

Not that I mistrusted the Engineering Club entirely, per se. So far, they struck me as genuine innovators with questionable logic who simply liked to experiment with extremely strange ideas. But sharing the technology that killed the Old World would nonetheless be dangerous, as there was historical precedence of novel technology being used against the wishes of its developers. Oppenheimer was one prominent example.

"Have you considered removing all the junk on it? That ought to decrease its weight and give it a longer battery life," I suggested instead.

"Never," all three Meisters answered simultaneously, to which I merely sighed.

"We probably should have gone with other types of propulsion, huh…" Kotori mused.

Utaha closed her eyes. "Not feasible, given our budget. Repurposed drone propellers were just about the most effective propulsors we could muster after the XRG-01 prototype was completed."

"Funding… the true bane of the Meister." Hibiki sighed.

"What's the XRG-01 prototype?" I asked curiously. "Some kind of gun?"

The Engineering Club perked up almost immediately.

"It's much more than that," Utaha said, a tinge of pride in her voice. "It would be better to show you. This way."

Utaha flipped a switch on the wall, and multiple lighting fixtures promptly illuminated Hangar 3 with reverbing clicks.

There seemed to be much more available space in this hangar as opposed to the previous one. Throughout the hangar, multiple weapon racks holding weapons of various designs were hung. Toward the end of the hangar, there seemed to be a makeshift firing range, with several synthetic training dummies set up at the terminal end.

"This where you test your completed weapons?" I asked.

"You bet!" Kotori answered. "We just finished our helicopter weapons project, so there's a lot more room to breathe than in Hangar 2. And really, the space is necessary, with the kinds of things we test in here. We had to reinforce the walls after some of the… accidents we've had in here."

My eyes drifted toward one spot about the size of a car on the far wall in the firing range. The spot was unpainted, which was especially noticeable compared to the surrounding wall.

"You don't say."

Utaha led us toward the side of the hangar, where an empty workbench stood. Above the workbench was a ceiling-mounted yellow crane holding something large and heavy in its arms.

The Meister hit a few buttons on her tablet, which the crane responded to by promptly lowering its cargo until it was nearly touching the workbench. With one last command from Utaha, the crane released its hold on its cargo, letting the object rest on the empty bench. The cargo produced a hefty thud once it made contact with the surface.

My eyebrows raised in surprise once I was able to fully see the cargo. My immediate thought was that the Engineering Club had managed to create their own [Energy Weapons].

It was a massive oblong cannon that was easily larger than most weapons that were designed to be carried by a single person. Its hull was a sleek, synthetic Millennium-white with blue on the underside of the firing mechanism and what I assumed was the battery. Printed on its side was the symbol of Millennium Science School. Near the battery was a small, currently unpowered screen, which I assumed was for displaying diagnostic information.

With all this in mind, and taking into account the Engineering Club's design philosophy…

"It's a matchbox," I guessed.

""Er… no," Hibiki replied lamely.

"A boiling water dispenser."

"That was last week, Sensei!" Kotori said mirthfully.

Utaha remained silent for a few moments, then turned to me and slowly said, "... Sensei. I know our previous inventions must have thrown you for a loop, but trust me when I say: the XRG-01 is exactly what it looks like."

I didn't like the look Utaha was giving me, though it wasn't quite directed at me. At least it wasn't malicious; it was a gaze somewhat similar to Noa's - analytical, just with a fittingly mechanical touch.

It might have flown over the average student's head, but to a competent engineer, the differences in the Mojave's and Kivotos' tech were as clear as day. And it wasn't only the RobCo tech on my arm - even the modifications I made to my equipment, such as the chem dispensing modules, all but etched the story of another world onto my person.

As I anticipated, keeping matters concerning the Old World and the Wasteland under wraps wasn't going to be quite as easy around Millennium students.

"Hmm…" I pretended to give the matter some careful consideration, before purposely simplifying my answer. "Is it a gun that shoots energy?"

"Very close, though at that point we'd be entering a discussion of technicalities, so for the sake of respecting time constraints, you may as well be right!" Kotori exclaimed. "It's a railgun!"

"A railgun…" I mused in fascination.

Railguns were rare in the Wasteland to the point of nonexistence, even with New Vegas' considerable connections, owing to being a technology that was largely shelved before the Great War, chiefly because of prohibitive production costs, in favor of coilgun technology. I never thought I'd see one here, of all places.

"Sensei seems interested," Hibiki said proudly. "Utaha-senpai, why don't we give a demonstration using the crane we rigged up?"

"Crane? Can't we just pick it up and fire?" I asked.

"I'm afraid not. Due to issues with power output and ammunition capacity, we had to reinforce the armature and install a more advanced battery. Because of that, even the three of us together can't pick it up without strain, so we installed a crane to safely move and fire the prototype. Suffice to say, the XRG-01 Prototype was never designed to be wielded by human hands-" Kotori's explanation died in her throat when she saw me reaching for it. "Eh? S-sensei?! What are you doing? There's no way you can pick that up, even if you're an adult…!"

My hands brushed against the hull of the railgun, searching for purchase. Immediately, I could tell why they said it was not designed for human hands; there was nowhere to get an easy grip. Instead, I wrapped my arms around the tail end of the railgun to try and lift it the hard way. A few experimental pulls later, however…

Heavy…!

The railgun barely shifted before I released my grasp prematurely.

"Sensei, please don't hurt yourself…" Hibiki said worriedly.

"Yeah! There's no way an average adult could lift an excess of 200 kg unless they dedicated immense time and effort for that express purpose!" Kotori added.

Utaha merely looked on with silent interest. And while I didn't want to tip her off any more than I already did, I wasn't about to back down from a challenge.

"Shiroko," I suddenly said.

"Yes?"

"Hold some of my stuff."

Two of the Meisters watched with growing dread as I passed some non-essential supplies to my companion to lessen my weight.

Once I was satisfied, I tried lifting the railgun again.

"Sensei, lift with the legs! Always the legs!" Kotori cried, noticing my posture.

I didn't fault her for not knowing, but lifting with the back was the point.

"Hngh!" Feeling the Big Mountain augmentations being put through their paces, I slowly lifted the XRG-01 off the workbench with a grunt of effort, before shifting it to my left side to account for the firing mechanism. The screen on the side of the weapon lit up, with blue digital numbers flashing across the screen. Testing the weight of the railgun, I came to the conclusion that I wouldn't be able to wield it comfortably without letting go of some of my gear beforehand, like how I distributed some weight to Shiroko. Of course, Power Armor would circumvent that problem entirely.

Hm… Wouldn't that be something…

"A-amazing! You must've gone through some intense training, Sensei!" Kotori cheered.

"Strong…" Hibiki commented. "We wouldn't have had to build the crane if you were here, Sensei."

Utaha smiled knowingly and nodded. "If you'd like, try it out on the training dummy across the room. You hold the trigger for a more powerful projectile, but let's start with the minimum, just in case."

"Minimum…?" Kotori asked confusedly, with more than a little concern. "Are you okay, Utaha-senpai?"

"This, too, is for science, Kotori," Utaha replied. "Now, then, Sensei. If you would."

Nodding, I opted for a little test myself, queueing up V.A.T.S. at the centermost dummy, pleased to see the targeting system interfacing with the gun without issue. I selected the torso for an 88 percent chance to hit.

The railgun's hull contracted as a small bluish projectile zipped out the barrel toward the training dummy, then penetrated right through its chest… and the wall behind the dummy, leaving a golf-ball sized hole in the wall. At the same time, the sounds of glass breaking and the screeching of a cat in the distance made everyone tense.

"Oops," I said, masking just how impressed I was as the railgun returned to its usual shape. Even at its lowest power output, the XRG-01 easily outperformed a Gauss Rifle, weight to stopping power ratio notwithstanding. I shuddered to think of what the prototype was capable of at maximum power.

That kind of firepower might even approach levels of overkill only reached by the Fat Man - in other words, so impractically strong that one would struggle to find a situation in which said firepower was necessary.

I loved this thing already.

"I can already see the invoice…" Hibiki shuddered, glancing at the wall and the probable property damage beyond it.

Utaha, who looked surprised by something, shook it off and replied, "I'm sure they'll understand. More importantly, now we know that our testing grounds need further reinforcement."

"True, but reinforced steel and concrete are starting to rack up costs as well…" Kotori lamented. "The XRG-01 continues to be a budget sink even after its completion…"

"Innovation isn't cheap, Kotori."

"Don't get me wrong, Utaha-senpai, I agree," Kotori shook her head insistently. "I just wish Seminar did too…"

"Don't we all…" Hibiki sighed.

"Alright, so what's the catch?" I asked, circling back to the prototype's construction. "With the railgun, I mean."

"If you're wondering why we shelved the XRG-01, it's not for the reason you're probably thinking. The XRG-01 has one function, and it is expected to perform that task phenomenally bar outstanding circumstances - minmaxing, as the Game Development Department would probably call it," Utaha stated. "As for the actual reason… It's several."

"For one, it's way too large and heavy to use as a conventional firearm, even for students. Even getting testing data on this thing is a pain in the butt because of its weight!" Kotori said. "But really, the main thing holding us back is, of course, the cost. The XRG-01 alone ate up 70 percent of our budget prior to the start of the semester! We, by no means, would be able to mass produce these railguns, or even outfit this one for its original purpose!"

"Oh, right. You mentioned it's not meant for human hands," I recalled.

"Indeed! It's actually designed to be mounted on an intergalactic battleship and is optimized for the vacuum of space!"

"You have a spaceship?!" I asked incredulously.

"No," Utaha simply stated, and left it at that. The other Meisters didn't object.

"..." Even Shiroko furrowed her brows as she wrapped her head around Meister logic.

"So… why did you use up most of your budget building a gun for a spaceship you don't have?" I asked patiently.

"Come now, Sensei. You know the answer to that," Utaha said with a confident smile. "The thrill of discovery..."

"... For science…" Kotori said.

"... And because we can," Hibiki finished.

I stifled a sigh. It wasn't like I didn't understand their passion. I rebuilt the Toaster for similarly pointless reasons, after all. Plus, even though their construction of a functional railgun was as unreasonably expensive as the Old World's attempts, at least they got something insanely powerful out of it.

Honestly? The most disappointing part was that I couldn't take it with me. Of course, haggling for it was an option. One could even argue for confiscation, like a true Paladin would; who knows what this thing could do at full power if aimed at Millennium Tower or at the Sanctum Tower?

… No.

It's only fair I keep my tech, and they keep theirs.

"Well, I guess further tests are out of the question." I tilted my head in the direction of the damaged wall as I lowered the railgun.

"Yeah, it's probably best we postpone testing on the prototype… again," Hibiki said, pausing when she noticed Utaha's thoughtful expression. "... Senpai? What are you thinking?"

"Hm." Utaha placed a hand on her chin. "Sensei, would you like to borrow the XRG-01 Prototype?"

"Eh? Utaha-senpai?" Kotori looked at the senior Meister with wide eyes.

"Why would you lend me this? I barely met you and you're lending out the most expensive thing in this hangar," I pointed out, concealing the childlike glee I felt at the imaginary scenario of obliterating Giant Robo-Scorpions and Deathclaws with a shiny new toy from another world.

"Yuuka trusts you. And despite our disagreements, she always does what's best for the school. That's good enough for me," Utaha said after a moment of contemplation. "Are you okay with this, Kotori? Hibiki?"

"Well, Sensei is the only one here who could wield the prototype without needing physical therapy afterward, so I'm fine with it!" Kotori said. "Plus, gathering test data is a lot simpler now that Sensei will be using it!"

"Besides, we know where you live," Hibiki cheerfully said, before frowning slightly, face flushed. "Oh. That sounded a lot less creepy in my head…"

"Then I guess I can hold onto it for a while. Thanks," I said, still surprised at how willing they were just lending the thing away.

"Don't mention it." Utaha waved a hand. "As Kotori said, we'll be counting on you to provide testing data. In a way, you're helping us." The lead Meister gestured for me to put down the prototype onto the workbench. "Now, how about we see about making the railgun fit for a human operator?"

"Oooh, we'll need to install handles and straps to make it easier to lug around. And ergonomic grips for better handling…" Kotori mumbled to herself as she went to gather the prerequisite parts.

"Let me get the tools," Hibiki said as she went back to the other hangar.

I had just placed the railgun on the workbench when Utaha rested a hand on the gun fondly, right over the Millennium emblem.

"To call something a 'masterwork' is something the Meister, ironically, generally frowns upon. After all, the term precludes the idea of improvement, when in reality, there is always room for improvement, no matter how well-crafted the creation. To paraphrase a core tenet of Millennium philosophy - to think of science as static is the height of foolishness." She paused. "That being said, I believe this prototype comes close to the idea of a 'masterwork'."

Utaha removed her hand from the weapon, smiling.

"Please take care of it," she said.

"Of course."

Utaha nodded in satisfaction. "Also, I hope you don't mind if we check in at Schale every now and then. We're considered to be experts at our craft, but I'm sure there's much we can learn from you regardless. Likewise, I hope you can learn something from this little invention of ours."

The mere thought of Kaiser deploying an army of conscripted, Power Armored students wielding Gauss weaponry was more than enough to reassure me of my decision to hoard away Old World secrets, but that didn't stop me from feeling bad about it. Especially not in the face of people willing to freely share their most valuable creation on a lark.

"... Right," I said as Hibiki and Kotori returned carrying various supplies.

Students were something else.

As we approached the border of Millennium Science School, the density of students decreased drastically, unlike Trinity, which had Justice Task Force members patrolling at nearly every turn. But then, Trinity didn't have robust automated defenses like Millennium did.

"Where are we going, Sensei?"

"I'll explain later."

"This is later."

"You'll just have to be patient, then. You're gonna ruin the surprise."

"What surprise? I don't understand-" Shiroko began, only to catch me pointing at my Pip-Boy, or more specifically, a point on the map north of Millennium Science School. Combined with the way I furtively glanced around every few seconds, she got the hint very quickly. "Ah. That surprise. I… already picked out a gift for Hoshino-senpai's birthday, so don't worry about where you pick out your gift."

"Thanks. I'm sure she'll appreciate your gift too."

There was, of course, no gift, nor was Hoshino's birthday even near... probably. This was but a quick cover story Shiroko made up on the fly just in case there was somebody listening in.

Which I deemed highly probable. Call it instinct, call it paranoia, but ever since I set foot in Millennium, I had the sneaking suspicion that I was being watched.

From security cameras that always seemed to swivel in my direction whenever I was near, to patrolling drones slowing their routine whenever I was in earshot…

Even during class earlier, despite having removed all of the bugs Kotama placed, I felt ill at ease; I had a suspicion that the electronic chalkboards served as more than just a tool for presentations.

But that begged the question of who was watching. And why.

… And no, it couldn't be Nodoka. According to Arona's projections, it takes the better part of a day to travel from Millennium to Red Winter, and Nodoka just left.

With these variables unknown, I decided that my scouting of the border between Millennium and the Ruins was something best kept secret. Sure, I could just use Schale's authority to go wherever I pleased, but pulling something like that would just invite more scrutiny from Seminar and whomever was watching… if the two entities were even different.

At this rate, I was beginning to enjoy spending time at Trinity more than Millennium. At least at Trinity, guards and other potential spies were obvious about keeping an eye on me. At Millennium, I couldn't even properly enjoy looking at novel tech without wondering if it too was spying on me.

"Hold on…" I whispered, holding out a hand, and Shiroko stopped. Nudging her shoulder slightly, I led her to some cover behind a nearby bulletin board.

Ahead of us was a large, segmented metallic rampart stretching horizontally as far as the eye could see. Installed on the end of each segment facing outward were pairs of automated sentry guns - as expected, I wasn't familiar with their design, but a glance at their barrels told me that they most likely fired explosives of lower yield. Patrolling on this end of the fortification were hovering drones of similar make to the ones employed by Kaiser, just with a different paint scheme and the emblem of Millennium instead. A large, automated gateway sizable enough to fit a large truck through was situated at the center of the rampart and seemed to be the only exit from this direction of the academy. There were also numerous security cameras, but fortunately, they were focused on the surroundings beyond the gate and the gate itself, not in our direction.

There was no doubt about it - this level of security, coupled with the wall that put Vault City's to shame? This had to be the border between the Ruins and Millennium Science School.

Shiroko looked at me curiously while I watched the robotic patrols closely. Predictably, they followed what was likely a preprogrammed patrol routine, which was mostly localized around the single entrance.

That was going to be… difficult to circumvent, at least without violence. Stealth Boys, limited as they were, were an option, but ED-E was proof that stealth fields were not infallible in the face of sufficiently advanced technology, which Millennium was most likely going to employ at a potential hot zone on their literal border.

There's no way around it, have to come better equipped next time, and preferably alone…

"Alright. We're leaving," I turned and said to Shiroko, who tilted her head puzzledly.

"We're not going to the place?" she whispered back.

"Next time."

"But we're already here."

"We already have our gift, remember?" I pointed at the unreasonably sized railgun on my back.

"But think of all the good things you might find that you might miss out on if you waited," Shiroko egged me on.

"No."

"The mystery."

"Nah."

"The loot…!" she pressed, no longer bothering to hide what we were actually talking about.

"That's a good point," I admitted with some hesitation. "But still no."

"I used to think that you enabled Shiroko-san's bad habits a lot, but it's kind of a two-way street, huh?" Arona remarked.

"Sensei, wait," Shiroko suddenly said, pointing at the gate. "Look."

Strangely enough, the patrolling robots began to disperse to patrol elsewhere along the gate, out of sight.

"That's strange…" I murmured. A hole in their patrol subroutine, perhaps?

"Now's our chance," Shiroko said, tugging on my sleeve, but I wasn't moving just yet.

My eyes narrowed. There was just something too convenient about this whole thing. Not only was it fishy that Millennium's patrol drones left an awfully obvious blind spot for us to exploit just as we arrived, but they also left their sole gateway to hostile territory wide open; why would they do something like that if they weren't trying to invite trouble into their district? Negligence?

Or perhaps, someone was trying to lead us to the Ruins…?

"Sensei, some of the guards look like they're going to come back around," Shiroko urged. "We might not get another chance."

While it was true that this seemed like a golden opportunity, it was very, very possible that this was a trap. The position I was thrust into was not one of low importance, after all. Anyone with television or even a radio at least knew that Schale played a part in restabilizing Kivotos after the president's disappearance. So there was always a possibility that someone would try to sabotage Kivotos' precarious balance of powers by targeting me. Postponing my exploration of the Ruins until the situation was more favorable would've been the most logical thing to do.

"Okay. Let's go," I agreed.

I was not always the most logical, however, for I was a courier with an insatiable wanderlust and innate curiosity of the unknown long before I was a logician. You'd think that after this led me straight into Father Elijah's trap in the Brotherhood bunker, I'd have let go of my propensity for wandering, but I don't think the message of the Sierra Madre quite made it through my thick skull.

To hell with that place anyway.

With all the guards currently away, that only left the turrets and cameras to contend with. While it was unlikely that the turrets would target us, I'd rather not be spotted by Millennium security while breaking the law in the first place.

While considering whether to destroy the cameras and turrets, a small, well-camouflaged box installed behind the rampart caught my attention. Shiroko followed as I approached the object I suspected was a fusebox. Once I pried it open with a bit of effort, I hummed.

"Redundant circuitry. Not bad," I murmured, then whispered to Shiroko, "I can disable the cameras and turrets for a few seconds, then they're going to come back online. Get ready to make a break for it before that happens."

"Mn. Do it."

I nodded, and once I finished meddling with the local power supply, I quickly shut the fuse box. "Go, go!"

Shiroko broke into a run past the gate while I followed. Sure enough, the turrets and cameras drooped lifelessly as their source of power was cut off, and by the time they came back online, we were already long gone.

"Should be good," I said as we slowed down, taking a moment to catch our breaths.

"Where are we?" Shiroko asked, leaning slightly against a broken lamppost. Night had fallen, with the only remaining light seemed to come from the nearby Millennium district, whose grand skyscrapers, power plants, and other technological structures lit up a portion of the atmosphere with a luminosity similar to that of Vegas. Since every other potential light source in our immediate surroundings was either defunct or unpowered, Shiroko had to squint to make heads or tails of our surroundings.

The area we were in seemed to have been abandoned relatively recently; I estimated maybe a few years before Abydos' population evacuated. Many houses showed signs of being ransacked, which led me to believe there probably wasn't much of value remaining in those houses. And while I would've been all too happy to check, I didn't know who owned this territory. In all likelihood, it was Millennium citizens who were forced to relocate in response to the sudden appearance of an incredibly territorial robotic army in their backyard.

"Looks like old Millennium territory," I answered, turning on my low-light vision. Much better. "The map data extends only a bit farther from here. We must be close."

"Okay. I'm ready."

"Hold on."

"Hm?"

"Listen. I didn't intend for us to go on a whole expedition. Especially not with the cargo we're hauling." I pointed at the railgun. "I really just wanted to scope out the area, see what we'd be in for when we went in this place for real."

Shiroko remained silent, waiting for me to continue.

"But since we're going in right now, we have no idea what we're in for. So if things start to get hairy, which they very well might, I want you to drop what you're doing and head back to Abydos. Understand?"

"What about you?"

"I'll be right behind you. If we get separated, don't worry about me - you know I know how to stay hidden, right?"

"That's true." Shiroko hesitantly nodded. "Okay, Sensei."

"Good." Gesturing her to follow, I led her to a nearby park bench, upon which I lowered my supplies. I set the railgun on the ground, since that much weight would probably be too much for the old bench. "Now before we go, let's talk tactics and inventory."

"Tactics…?" Shiroko tilted her head as she set her gym bag onto the bench along with the satchel of supplies I had her carry.

I nodded, feeling my prospecting mindset resurfacing, endlessly glad that it never left me.

"Judging from what Noa said, there will be hostile robots crawling all over the darn place. If we alert all of them, we're gonna have a very bad time," I said, remembering the tactics my temporary companions and I used to survive the streets of the Sierra Madre. "So I want you to stay close, just to reduce the chances of us getting spotted or separated."

"No problem," she agreed, perhaps a bit too quickly.

"Next, your fighting style."

"Oh?"

"I want you to wait until I've already engaged an enemy -and until they've spotted us - to attack. In other words, don't pick fights if you can help it."

"I don't pick fights…" Shiroko averted her eyes as she lied.

"Sure," I sarcastically replied, making some last-minute rearrangements with my weapons, choosing the Ratslayer and my sword as primary weapons, with A Light Shining in Darkness and a Cosmic Knife as backup. I frowned when I considered my limited options for stealth, regretting the fact that Sleepytyme was still back at the Lucky 38. "On to inventory. How's your ammo?"

"Haven't shot anything, so full."

I nodded. She was carrying my extra ammo anyway, so even if she ran out, she'd have something to fall back on.

"Grenades?" I asked.

"Seven frags."

"Here. Add these."

"What are these?" she asked, accepting the two explosives I offered her.

"Pulse grenades. EMPs, basically. Pull the pin and let 'er rip, same as frags. Save them for if you ever get cornered by robots; you'll feel a nasty sting if you get caught in the blast but it'll hurt them a lot more than it'll hurt you."

"Understood."

"How about a sidearm? Got one?"

"I keep a pistol in my nightstand."

"Yeah, but you need one now. Having a primary weapon is good, but it's ultimately a tool that can fail you when you need them most. Doubly so if you're exploring in a place where nobody will find you if something were to go wrong." I dug around my pack. "You ever use a revolver before?"

Shiroko blinked. "A few times. At the range."

"Here. Hold onto this, just in case. It uses the same ammo as your rifle, so it'll be a good backup if you ever need it.

The student turned over and examined the gun with a small yellow light near the cylinder. "What's this gun?"

"That Gun."

"Yes, this gun."

"That Gun."

Shiroko frowned. "Yes, that's what I said. But what is the gun called?"

"Not the gun, That Gun," I informed, pointing at the gun, while her ears erratically twitched, conveying irritation. "Here, you reload it like… so."

After I directed her to the cylinder release, the motorized cylinder swung open. Once she loaded five rounds into each chamber, the cylinder snapped shut and the light on the weapon turned a satisfying green, letting loose a gentle ring to signify the weapon was good to go.

"I like it," she commented, familiarizing herself with its grip.

"Very cozy, isn't it?" I agreed. "It's a piece that underwent extensive modifications, and actually started out as a full-sized rifle, back before my time. Still, packs just as much of a punch. Nowadays, I prefer sidearms with higher capacity, but That Gun won't fail you in a pinch. I guarantee it."

"Got it. I'll take good care of your gun-"

"That Gun."

Shooting me a flat look, Shiroko slipped That Gun into her skirt pocket, zipping the pocket shut afterward. "Are we missing anything else?"

"Do you have anything you can use in close quarters?"

"The pistol you gave me seems like it's good close-up."

"It's solid at point blank, but I was thinking more along the lines of melee."

Shiroko stared at me. "I can punch and kick hard."

"If these robots are built well, then nearly not hard enough," I said. "You might even run into a situation in which you can't use guns, so you might need to rely on melee."

"What kind of situation is that?"

"Let's say there's a gas leak. Tight space, where even a single gunshot can set the whole area aflame."

"Uh…"

"... Never mind. Next time." I sighed. Of course, they didn't have anything like Vault 22 around here, but the point was to be prepared for anything, dammit. Taking a student along for a fun little trip to go shoot things was well and good, but we were heading into a situation where things, in all likelihood, actually wanted to kill us, and outnumbered us horrendously. For such Wasteland-like situations, I would ideally spare no expense in making painstaking preparations.

… A shame I couldn't bring the Power Armor from last time, in retrospect. The repairs for the damage it sustained during the raid on Abydos Desert were simple enough, but before I came here I had no way of knowing that Noa would tip me off about a heavily guarded unknown location ripe for prospecting. Perhaps this was for the better; not only would sneaking past Millennium's border have been more difficult, but my goal here was to grab whatever info and goodies I can without pissing off an entire robotic army.

Power Armor was not especially known for its inconspicuousness.

I was already putting back my things and closing my pack when I remembered something.

"One last thing," I said, grabbing one last piece of gear.

"Mn?"

"Wear this."

I tossed the hazmat darklight cowl to Shiroko, who instinctively caught it.

"What… this?" the student said, frowning at the gas mask with attached hood. "A mask? I already have one."

"This one will be more useful here."

Shiroko stared into the dull, round, greenish 'eyes' of the mask, somewhat unsettled. "... I don't like it."

"Trust me, I don't like it either, not by a longshot," I replied, grimacing myself. Distant memories that weren't quite distant enough came back to me - of the relentless Ghost People and their freakishly sharp spears and their unnatural, inhuman, shambling gaits. "But it's got built-in night-vision functionality, which you'll need, since it'll probably only get darker as we get further away from Millennium. And it should filter out anything bad in the air. Robots aren't especially concerned about air quality, after all."

Shiroko stared at the cowl for a few more moments, then hesitantly nodded. She slowly slipped on the hood, having to tug on it a bit to make it fit over her ears. She jumped slightly when the cowl's night-vision - Ghost Sight, as I like to call it - kicked in, causing the dim green eyes of the mask to intensify and emanate a sickly rad green.

The student exhaled, her breath hitching a bit from the uncomfortable mask. It sounded uncomfortably close to the labored expirations of a Ghost Person.

"... It's kind of hard to breathe… And talk…" she said, her voice incredibly muffled.

"Yeah, that's an unfortunate side effect of its design." I replied sympathetically.

Funny, that; try and make a hazmat suit capable of blocking out the Cloud, and you'll just end up blocking out everything else instead. Even with the adjustments I made to the hazmat cowl since I picked it up in Big Mountain to make the cowl easier to breathe in and the wearer intelligible to other people, it was still an incredibly ungainly article of clothing that I only carried around in case the low-light vision from my helmet failed. Well, at least in Shiroko's case, it'd provide some modicum of protection against the elements as well as enemies, especially since most students seemed averse to the idea of armor.

Still, had I known about our little prospecting trip beforehand, I'd have outfitted her for proper protective gear. For now, she'd just have to rely on her innate durability as a student. Which was, in fairness, quite formidable on its own; Shiroko was easily one of the strongest students I'd met so far, barring the absurd outliers like Hina.

The Abydos student adjusted the cowl some more, evidently bothered. "It's kind of tight around my ears, too…"

"Which, er, pair?"

Shiroko paused, perhaps considering the question. "Yes."

"If you think you'll be better off without it, you could just take it off," I offered. It wasn't like Shiroko to complain, so I knew that the cowl really must've bothered her to wear it.

"... It's fine," she said after only a brief moment of thought. "If you say I might need it, then it must be true. You don't do things for no reason… Vance."

Been awhile since I've heard that name.

"If things go smoothly, I am doing this for no reason," I commented.

But they rarely do, at least in the Wasteland.

While this wasn't the Wasteland, what were the chances of this city's equivalent of pre-War ruins being full of sunshine and rainbows?

Finishing up rearranging my exploration-tailored equipment, I got up. Shiroko finished her own preparations and took out her rifle, and the two of us set out further north.

"How do you want to split up the loot, if we get any?"

"Huh? Weren't you just saying you'll carry it all?" Shiroko tilted her head, her masked visage succeeding in creeping me out a bit.

"I meant afterward. You know, divvying up the spoils. To keep, sell, what have you."

"You don't have to pay me, Vance."

"I do. Prospector's code. If someone accompanies you and pulls their own weight when you're exploring, you owe them their fair share."

Such was an unwritten rule in the Wastes, which one did not violate unless you wanted to make enemies quickly - case in point, Benny and the Khans. Even amongst my past companions, this held true. Veronica was interested in technological salvage while Boone's payment was the blood of Legionaries we killed. Rex was placated by the offering of the odd severed leg, while Arcade was committed to the admirable, if somewhat stupid, Followers ideology of working pro bono. But even in the cases in which a traveling companion claimed to want to dive into Wasteland hellholes and get shot up on my behalf for free, I still did my best to make sure they were adequately compensated for their trouble.

Unlike the average Kivotos student, whose cumulative education easily surpassed that of 99% of Wasteland-born peoples, I wasn't taught many things growing up. But one of the few things I was taught is the belief that hard work deserves merit. Hard work was the only reason humanity was able to become civilized again and bring itself back from the brink of extinction, after all.

"I can't really think of anything I might need," Shiroko said. "Money, as always, I guess?"

"That's more for the school," I pointed out, to which she shrugged. "Anyway, I don't think we're going to find much money around here. Maybe you can sell stuff we find? Ayane had some contacts who were willing to buy salvage for a relatively good price, didn't she?"

She nodded. "Right. She was selling junk and metal parts from the school storage."

"Then caps, scrap metal, and scrap electronics can go to you. I'll take any guns or armor we find, and we can decide on who gets any other items after we're done."

"Caps…?" Shiroko repeated in confusion.

Oops. That was Hoshino I told, right? Gotta start keeping track of who knows what.

"Money. Turn of phrase where I'm from." Also rolls off the tongue better than money or currency, in my humble opinion.

Shiroko paused to respond, stopping when I slowed my pace, pointing ahead.

"Now we're getting somewhere," I murmured, taking in the structure ahead.

It was a gate nearly identical to the one we crossed earlier, except this one was obviously abandoned, with signs of heavy damage around the ramparts, suggesting a fight took place here. If I were to hazard a guess, there was a border conflict between the robots and Millennium that forced the district to cede some ground. Some distance beyond the dilapidated gate was a vast expanse of ruined, crumbled concrete structures which looked straight out of the more dangerous areas of California's Boneyard or San Francisco - no, worse, since those at least had roving gangs and Hubologists prowling its streets. In contrast, it didn't seem there was anyone alive out in these Ruins.

I frowned tersely as I recalled the treacherous warrens of the Divide. At first glance, it didn't seem like anyone was alive in that smoldering wreck of a city either. We'd have to approach these Ruins carefully, in case the area harbored some nasty surprises for us.

I drew the Ratslayer and slowed my approach as I crept around a pair of crumbling buildings, with my companion following closely, drawing her White Fang 465 and panning its sights around our surroundings.

The architecture here was jarring compared to the abandoned Millennium territory we'd just passed. While the latter just seemed like a recently abandoned urban area akin to Abydos district, the Ruins seemed like it's been abandoned since the Great War - no, older. Several structures whose original purpose was nebulous at best littered the landscape like ancient monuments, their cracked structures long since overtaken by thick films of moss and other creeping vegetation. The roads seemed in much similar condition, with large swathes of eroded road not even visible from beneath mounds of displaced earth and flora.

Abydos' desertification hits this place, and it might actually start looking like home.

"Sensei, Pip-Boy automapping function is currently limited," Arona informed.

"Interference?" I whispered, bringing up the screen. The map screen continued to display the same void as earlier, with the exception of a small circular area surrounding us.

"Seems like it. I linked up the visual feed from your helmet so we can kinda-sorta make a map of your own using whatever's in your line of sight. It's not much, but..."

"It's something." I tapped the screen twice and lowered it.

Inconvenient, but not unexpected. There had to be some kind of electrical interference here which blocked not just radio signals, but even the Pip-Boy's sonar that it used for automapping. I suddenly felt reassured of my decision to leave ED-E in Millennium Tower with Yuuka; the poor guy would've been all but deaf in these Ruins.

Noticing an intact building to our right, I gestured to Shiroko, and she nodded. We veered off the road and approached the door to the building.

The structure was medium-sized, averaging around the area of Doc Mitchell's house. I tested the doorknob, which was covered in a thick layer of grime and mold, tensing as the doorknob snapped right off and the door creaked open, leaving a trail of hundreds of years of residue buildup. Putting the doorknob down gently, I pushed the door open slowly so as to not generate too much noise. After checking the floor and door frame for traps, I crept in, Ratslayer and V.A.T.S. at the ready, while Shiroko bared her White Fang and followed.

The ruined living area (which I could only assume it was, as the only discernible furniture was the rotted away remains of something vaguely couch-shaped) was partly illuminated by the light that seeped in through the open doorway and the various cracks in the ceiling. Other than the pervasive smog-like dust kicked up by our entrance that saturated the air, there was nothing in the way of hazards in the building.

"What are we looking for in here?" Shiroko asked.

"Nothing in particular." I knelt down in front of a pile of debris, brushing the dust buildup aside to reveal something old and tattered; probably a blanket or cloth that had long since decomposed. Not much in the way of directly useful salvage around here, but it was a lot better than finding skeletons of pre-War people and their children, in my opinion.

Still, that was just counting directly useful salvage.

I took a deep breath, then turned on my radio.

"Well, I'm gettin' tired workin' hard every day,

Workin' every day and not a-gettin' much pay."

"Sensei?" The Abydos student tilted her head in confusion at the sudden music, which was audible enough for us to hear and not any unwanted guests.

"I got a big Geiger counter, it's a pretty good rig,

When the needle starts a-clickin' it's where I'm gonna dig."

Getting something of worth out of these ruins was going to require a certain touch. But luckily, there was nobody more efficient at tearing down Old World ruins for anything of worth than a prospector.

"Money-money honey, the kind you fold

Money-money honey, rock 'n' roll,"

Organic matter is the first to go, as it yields to rot and the elements quickly. Other things like steel last much longer, but ultimately rust and degrade over time.

Things like synthetic polymers, copper, and other precious metals were a different story.

"Rake it in, bale it up like hay,

Have a rockin' good time and throw it all away."

Shiroko watched as I speedily and systematically combed through the building unearthing anything that could be feasibly perceived as salvage. Things like electrical wires, plastics from old tools and utensils, and intact metals, I appraised in my Pip-Boy light, dusted off, and passed to Shiroko, who pocketed the items for proper cleaning and sorting later. Once she saw the kinds of things I was looking for, she quickly joined me as we quite literally cleaned house.

Once I had torn out the building's more accessible wiring, I deemed that there was little else we could quickly salvage, and we moved to the adjacent building to do the same.

"Yes, that's me in my long Cadillac,

Headin' down the road and I ain't comin' back."

Upon reaching the third building, I opened up a strange defunct apparatus that looked more in-line with how terminals in the Wasteland looked, perhaps an analyzing instrument of some sort. Once I popped open the rusted hatch on its side, all I could find were ruined electrical components, too degraded to even salvage… all hooked up to an uncanny stone at the instrument's core. One that I had seen before.

"Ain't no red light gonna make me stop

When I find that big uranium rock."

Once I wrenched the keystone from its place in the apparatus, I held it up to the light. I didn't necessarily need to do that, as the odd artifact produced its own light, even after hundreds of years.

"Bingo."

"What's that?"

"Hell if I know. But I do know that I want more."

I passed the keystone to her resumed scavving, humming along with the final notes of the song. "Money, money, honey…"

"... Sensei seems happy," Shiroko commented as she helped me pry open a fuse box.

"Do I?"

"Mn."

"Huh. Well, I guess it's because I was prospecting before I was even shooting… or teaching, for that matter. We tend to find comfort in the things we're good at; becomes something that you can lose yourself in for a while, you know? Double points if you end up finding something good."

"True." She dusted off her hands as we finished salvaging the copper from the old fuse box. She took out the keystone we found and snapped a picture of it using her phone, returning it to her gym bag afterward.

"Why'd you do that?" I asked.

"Lots of interesting things buried in the sand that we find occasionally. Might be one of them. So I'm going to tell the others to look out for these once we're out."

"... Why?"

"Because it makes Sensei happy," she stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. She paused as if she realized what she said. "That is… you're always focused on something, so seeing you like this is… it's…" Shiroko struggled with her words, eventually settling on a "...nice."

I eyed the student, detecting only sincerity in her tone.

These mutant angels. So earnest, so eager to please. But that was just their nature. I didn't know if I would get used to being surprised by this, but honestly, I hoped I never would.

Students really were something else.

"... Don't expect preferential treatment."

She smiled. At least, I thought she did. Hard to tell when she looked like an otherworldly abomination. "I won't, Vance."

Her ears twitched at exactly the same time I turned to the direction of footsteps coming from outside. Metallic, almost like Power Armored boots.

I turned off my radio and crept toward the entrance, peeking through the gap in the ajar door.

A pair of automatons wielding rifles marched down the broken road. They were nearly identical to Kaiser's automatons, with an exception in that these were unpainted, in contrast with Kaiser's preferred camouflage motif.

The duo continued walking toward the entrance of the ruins, then turned around and began marching back from whence they came.

"Patrols…" Shiroko observed. "What should we do?"

"Hmm…" I considered our options.

Continuing scavenging certainly wasn't a comfortable prospect anymore, not with the hostile patrols liable to stumble upon us at any time. I reckon it was only due to [Luck] that they didn't happen across the building we were in as we were dismantling some of the tech here.

That being said, I wasn't ready to leave just yet. Not with but a single good find.

If we could just find out the source of these robots or what they were guarding… That would make the trip, and all future trips to the Ruins, worth it.

The automatons disappeared from sight. I pushed open the door gently and exited the building.

"I'm following them. Remember what we discussed earlier, okay?"

Shiroko nodded, adjusting her cowl, as if to make one last effort to minimize discomfort before we headed into the thick of things. "Okay."

"Then let's go."

The small squad of automatons marched along our position, giving no indication that they had seen us. My companion and I waited from behind a large collapsed beam until they passed. Shiroko exhaled out her nostrils once the coast was clear.

"This way," I whispered, as we took a shortcut through an alleyway to avoid yet another patrol coming along from the same direction the last one did.

At some point, the area we had been prospecting in, which could feasibly have been a housing district many, many years ago, had segued into what was almost undeniably an industrial sector, judging by the tall, fortified buildings, from some of which pillars of smog still billowed from the grand pipelike chimneys that protruded from the top of the buildings.

We were getting close. To what, I had no clue. But the sheer number of robotic patrols here suggested that there was something important nested within these Ruins. Now it was just a matter of finding out just what was being guarded here and escaping with that information without bringing the entire population of hostile robots down on us.

Getting lost might have been a concern, were it not for Arona plotting the routes we took as we went, so we could always backtrack using the handmade map data. But enemy density complicated things; if enemy patrols happened to block the route we originally took, our options would be limited to waiting until they passed, finding another route, or fighting our way out, none of which especially struck me as safe bets in unknown territory.

I'll just have to cross that bridge when I get to it, I thought. With all hope, we'd be out before morning breaks; night seemed to be working for us in that the robots here couldn't seem to see us as well as we could see them. Perhaps their night vision was simply not up to snuff.

We rounded a corner and tensed as a lone automaton, separated from its group, walked past us on the adjacent street.

I held out a hand to Shiroko, hopefully indicating for her to wait, and she nodded once.

As quietly as I could, I stowed the Ratslayer and slowly unsheathed my katana, silently slinking up from behind the automaton. With one swift motion, I slashed diagonally across the robot's neck all the way through its midsection. The [Piercing Strike] didn't cleanly cut right through, but it nonetheless did enough damage to down the automaton, which let loose a mechanical warble as it fell.

Immediately, I stowed my sword and made to drag the remains to a place where it wouldn't be in plain sight for other robots to see, when the motionless robot started twitching. It croaked out a sound not unlike that of a malfunctioning radio as it slowly reached for its gun beside it.

"Tch."

I stomped down on the hand that was reaching for the weapon then pulled out my Cosmic Knife. The Saturnite blade easily finished the job, decapitating the robot as easily as one would slice through butter.

I guess compared to Saturnite, a battered old katana just doesn't cut it, huh…

… Heh, 'cut it'.

Deciding I'd see what I could do about the old sword later, I (very carefully) sheathed the Cosmic Knife, then began to drag the body into a nearby pile of detritus. The sounds of a series of patrol bots coming my way forced me to hasten my movements, until a sharp metallic crash from far away diverted the robots' attention, and they swiftly ran off to investigate the source in the opposite direction.

Poking her head out from the alleyway, Shiroko rejoined me, dusting off her right hand on her skirt. Probably threw a piece of debris, and a big one too. Pretty good throwing arm she had, if she chucked a heavy piece of metal that far.

"Thought I told you to stay," I said, briefly looking up as I looted the automaton for its gun and ammo before burying the bot under rubble.

"You didn't say for how long."

I simply squinted at her for a moment, then shook my head.

"Let's keep moving."

"Right behind you, Vance."

We ventured further into the heart of the Ruins, weaving around increasingly dense patrols. I much preferred stealth as a means to surprise an enemy as opposed to attempting to evade enemies, but I managed.

What surprised me was this Abydos student; she was a natural at evading patrols, or perhaps she'd been rehearsing. What that said about her hobbies was slightly concerning, but who was I to judge? I made dangerous weapons and drugs for fun. Also because I was sure they'd come in handy someday, but wasn't the best kind of hobby one that was fun as well as practical?

We emerged from the broken-down shed we'd been using as cover to evade a series of flying drones passing by and continued onward. One particularly large complex which reminded me of an industrial pre-War factory mixed with a Big Mountain research center came into view. The complex, though overtaken by creeping vines and rust, still continued to hum and hiss with mechanical activity. A pair of automatons stood sentinel around a seemingly random area on the side of the complex. Or at least I thought it was the side; there was nothing in the way of a main entrance - not that I could see, anyway.

"Any idea what that place could be?" I asked.

Maybe the Kivotos resident had more of an inkling than the foreigner as to what this place was.

"No idea."

So much for that.

I brought up the Ratslayer and took a knee, planting one armor-piercing 5.56 round square on the head of one of the guards. The other robot let loose a shrill warble upon seeing its compatriot fall, swiveling in our direction and bringing up its rocket launcher. Fortunately, I was quicker, and the second robot joined the first on the metaphorical scrap heap.

Would've been a more literal scrap heap, had I the opportunity to actually dismantle these things for parts. Alas.

We closed the distance with the intent of looting the bodies, startling when a nondescript portion of the wall covered with vegetation suddenly groaned and slid open upon our approach.

"Huh. So that's what they were guarding…" I murmured. The interior was dimly lit, but thanks to my helmet's low-light vision I could make out the contours of a hallway easily enough.

"Sensei, we've got patrols. Six and nine o'clock," Shiroko said, clutching her rifle.

I stifled a curse. Quickly, I grabbed the rocket launcher and the robot, Shiroko doing the same with the other. We dragged the destroyed robots behind the door as it slowly slid shut with a groan and hiss.

Noticing a panel underneath what I assumed were the door controls, I ripped it open and used my Cosmic Knife to cut the wire diverting power to the door. Should slow them down. Standing up, I faced my companion, who handed me the rifle from the robot she looted. I handed her the rocket launcher in turn; something as heavy as that would only slow me down with the railgun plus everything else I was carrying.

I looked down the hallway, which branched off into several other directions. I was very interested in this area that still seemed to have power as opposed to most other places we'd seen in these ruins, but we had to stay moving. Chances were, those bots knew this place better than we do. If they can't get that door open, they'd be finding another way to reach us very soon.

"Vance, Vance. I found another one," Shiroko said, a glint in her eye as she pried her fourth keystone from one of the apparatuses in the area.

We seemed to be in a laboratory of sorts, one that was, in comparison to the exterior of the Ruins, largely preserved. Dusty chemistry stations were a frequent sight on the forlorn shelves, along with papers that had, for the most part, deteriorated from hundreds of years of exposure to the air. On the walls were several series of broken-down computer consoles, which occasionally flickered to life before losing power once more.

The area was nearly pitch black, and while Shiroko initially complained about her cowl making her ears sore, she didn't seem to mind it as she used its built-in Ghost Sight to great effect, grabbing everything that wasn't nailed down.

A born prospector, as it were. She almost seemed keen on making whoever nabbed the most valuables during our trip the winner, but my mind was preoccupied with other things.

The distant, erratic hissing of malfunctioning hydraulic doors. The faint sound of whisper-like radio chatter coming from the ceiling intercoms. The flickering consoles that seemed to hang to life for just a bit longer while I was nearby, as if watching.

I couldn't place it, but this place felt alive, if that made sense.

Which made it all the more puzzling as to why we hadn't encountered any guards thus far. They were robots, so why hadn't they communicated with other units in the vicinity? Perhaps the odd signal jamming blanketing the Ruins affected them too? But even if that were the case, surely we would have at least seen or heard signs of the enemy searching for us…

Did they even follow us in?

My grip on my riot shotgun tightened at the thought of us having inadvertently traipsed into a place in which mindless killer robots refused to tread, while Shiroko happily rummaged through more detritus. I'd given up on staying quiet in this facility; the walls were thick, and Shiroko was making a hell of a racket ransacking this place like a Jetted-up Easy Pete in his heyday, which rendered stealth pointless. Still, somebody had to keep a lookout. That was the whole reason traveling in pairs was a mainstay of prospecting.

"5-2. My lead," the student smugly reported, adding the new keystone to her bag of loot, which was growing worryingly large. I certainly wasn't going to complain at the large influx of keystones from this expedition, but that bag was starting to look almost as heavy as my current load.

"Leaving me in the dust. Vikki would be proud."

"That reminds me. You haven't called me that since the bank."

"Really?" I hummed, not especially paying attention, at least not to the conversation, as we moved from the ransacked laboratory to proverbial greener pastures.

"Can you call me that again? There's no one else around." Shiroko leaned forward in a manner that, due to the Ghost Person cowl, just came off as creepy, though she likely didn't intend it to be such.

"No."

"Gnnn…" She let out a distorted growl that, thanks to her resembling the abominations that once made my life hell, was actually a bit menacing.

We reached the adjacent area, which seemed like it may have been a lounge at some point in the past millennium. On the opposite side of where we entered, there was a rusted metallic sliding door that looked like it led to some storage room. We dug in and resumed the search for loot - or rather, Shiroko did. While she rummaged through open cabinets, one powered terminal in the corner of the room caught my attention, and I looked around for a moment before stowing my gun. The dim screen of the old terminal lit up slightly upon my approach, the screen covered in an indiscernible grimy substance. Words automatically showed up on the top left corner of the screen in blocky green text.

'Welcome to Divi:Sion. Please enter item inquiry.'

A weathered-looking keyboard that seemed far more ancient than any Termlink equivalent slid out from a rectangular slot below the screen.

Intrigued by the prospect of a working terminal with intact software, I placed my hands on the keyboard and began to type a question, only for the cursor at the bottom left to remain unresponsive. As I contemplated whether the keyboard was broken, the lettering on the screen blurred momentarily, morphing into another sentence.

'Verifying user clearance…'

…

…

The screen froze, and I waited for a few moments for the message to clear. I was contemplating whether to use Arona to brute force my way past user verification, and I didn't notice what Shiroko had been up to until the metallic door across the room slid open with a grating echo.

"Ah." Shiroko looked up eagerly as the door slid open, revealing rows of cuboidal machines, each sharing identical features, right down to their cores - each of which held one keystone.

Then, several things happened almost instantaneously.

A small divot above the door expanded and bathed the student in a bluish light, which promptly turned a deep blood red. Seeing this, Shiroko tensed, her legs already poised to flee, which proved fruitless, as the ground below her slid open. Suddenly without any support, she plummeted down the trapdoor, her hands briefly scrabbling to find purchase around the trapdoor's edge only to fail, certainly not helped by the heavy loot she was carrying.

Even with the aid of [Implant GRX] and the [Reflex Booster], I only made it to her location in time to see her cowl-covered ears and halo disappear down into the depths of the trapdoor leading to God-knows-where.

"SHIROKO?!" I exclaimed as I peered down the winding metal chute, forgetting about the terminal and the keystones in the room ahead entirely.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT!

My mind, driven into overdrive by adrenaline and Turbo, went wild imagining possible scenarios that awaited the Abydos student at the end of her fall. And thanks to the abundance of ways to die in the Wasteland, the scenarios it constructed were nothing short of creative.

This place was abandoned and guarded by robots who shot students and other intruders on sight. It wasn't inconceivable that they might have derived some methods of bypassing a student's innate durability to incapacitate or kill them. Compression, suffocation, dehydration, extreme heat, acid vats, and concentrated Cloud were merely the first ones that came to mind; surely any society advanced enough for this level of construction could commit to much worse.

It was only once time turned back to normal that I registered the sound of my racing heartbeat and Arona calling to me.

"Sensei, I've got your back! Do what you have to do!" she urgently said, causing me to look up briefly as I furiously reprogrammed my Pip-Boy's subroutines.

What I have to do…?

What was she expecting me to do? Obviously, anyone with common Wasteland sense and a sense of self-preservation would have begun to find a way around, if not left the damn place entirely. Even if the former took more time, it was simply the safest way to go about it; the alternative was the equivalent of willingly putting one's foot in a bear trap that may or may not activate.

And I, most definitely, without a single doubt, wasn't one for taking unnecessary risks.

…

The automated chem dispenser pricked my arm, and my nerves were quickly doused with a hefty dose of Med-X, the first in the queue of an entire suite of chems that I just finished programming on the spot.

If I was going to make an extremely stupid decision, then it was time to get serious.

"Psycho, Rocket, Slasher, Battle Brew…" Arona read off the first few items in the list, unsettled. "Uwah… These are some scary-sounding names. You sure you need these for medical reasons, Sensei…?"

Taking a breath and making sure all my items were secured, I looked down past the trapdoor, down the lengthy chute.

I can't believe I'm doing this…

I took one step forward and fell.

The sound of scraping metal as my gear and the railgun grinded against the walls of the chute reverberated in my ears, and I was briefly disoriented when the chute began to branch off into several series of twists and turns. After hitting my head at the crux of one particularly awkward angle, my fall terminated in one unceremonious collision with a pile of rubble. I felt nearly nothing, which I attributed to the chem, only to see a wave of shimmering light pass over me like water, signifying that Arona expended some energy breaking the fall.

Quickly pushing myself up, I noticed White Fang 465 on the ground in front of me.

I raised my head and drew A Light Shining in Darkness, my shotgun ready in my other hand, as I looked around for the Abydos student.

The chamber I fell in was - compared to the claustrophobic laboratory corridors we were just in, spacious and mostly empty - save for a single metal platform through which tufts of grass sporadically broke. On the platform was a single metal chair, not unlike those found in Old World clinics. Resting on the chair was a small girl of student age, with absurdly long black hair that cascaded all the way to the floor and coiled in on itself once it had nowhere else to go. She had nothing in the way of clothing, two errant locks of hair being the only things covering her unmentionables. She seemed to be asleep, if the lack of a halo was any indication. The ceiling above the platform was shattered, and the resulting starlight that seeped through caused the girl and her surroundings to have a somewhat ethereal quality to them.

I scooped up Shiroko's gun, unease growing. The student was nowhere to be seen; the trapdoor must have taken her elsewhere. I'd just have to hope That Gun, some grenades, and whatever supplies she was carrying would be sufficient if she ran into trouble.

I paused the Psycho injection that was queued just a few seconds from now. Adding my companion's location to my ever-expanding list of questions, I decided that the best way to start to address this list was to ask the naked student sleeping in the midst of killer robot territory.

Halfway into my approach, however, my anxiety and questions doubled.

She wasn't breathing. And upon closer inspection, she had a fine layer of dust coating every inch of her body and the seat.

Stopping next to her, I checked her carotid artery using my Pip-Boy hand.

She had no pulse. Not only that, the girl was room temperature.

She's dead…

My mouth formed a grim line. Evidently, Kivotos wasn't as much of a paradise as it seemed.

I removed my hand, silently ruminating. Her skin was dry, yet smooth to the touch, without a single blemish to be seen; I considered the possibility that this girl was simply a mannequin, but this level of detail, where one could make out individual pores on skin, was beyond any level of human or mechanical craftsmanship I considered possible. And her skin, while unusual in texture, was undoubtedly organic in composition; its uncanny texture might have just been a result of whatever method they used to preserve her body.

To be able to preserve a body for what I assumed were centuries, without a single hint of degradation? This was beyond even the fantastic medicinal and chemical capabilities of the best of Old World scientists. I was most curious about their methodology… but also the reason as to why she was entombed here.

We had not encountered any other chambers like this, and with this platform and seat serving as the centerpiece of this room, it was as if this room were dedicated to her. Perhaps experimentation, given the nearby laboratory? Or maybe a cultist ritual; this room didn't seem like it was designed merely with scientific observation in mind, but perhaps… reverence?

I sighed, setting down the prototype and kneeling down to rummage through my equipment.

No matter the reason, I wasn't about to leave her here.

It was going to be awfully damning on my part, walking back into Millennium from a restricted area while hauling the corpse of a nude student-aged girl (I still hoped against hope that she was just an elaborately-made mannequin), but it had to be done if we were going to get to the bottom of what happened here. If all else failed, Arona could probably provide some visual proof of my innocence should I be blamed for this girl's death.

Straightening out the bundle of plain white cloth I had stashed away, I laid it over her to serve as a makeshift shroud. A vague outline of her slim features was the only thing visible after that.

I didn't think much of the idea of any afterlife, but I hoped that she was at peace.

Stowing White Fang 465 with my other equipment, I set my sights on the only other object in the vicinity - a lone terminal to the right of the girl.

'Welcome to Divi:Sion auxiliary network. Press any key to continue.'

I slid out the keyboard, then tapped the 'Enter' key.

'Authorized user detected. Launching interface.

Loading… Success.

Please select an option.'

-System diagnostics-

-;gln a;lkhega;vasetrp ocsuv-

-User notice-

-Aghsufzsdf ogheirjhgsf-

-goarighpio gkelgn kdg gdfer-

-Download software access key-

Reading through the options, I noticed a few lines of nonsense data, probably a result of corruption over time. I selected the first option, intending to go through the intact ones in order.

'Loading system diagnostics… Complete.

Units found: 1

Connecting…

Successful.

AL-1S system status: Standby'

-More info-

-Back-

I selected 'More info'.

…

-U.i..A...1….y..r..i..s-

The data on the terminal screen disappeared as the screen flickered and fizzled out, a crackling sound audible from the bottom portion of the terminal as something fried. Immediately after, a low-pitched beeping noise emanated from the terminal and from the intercom system - probably a result of the main terminal in the room losing power.

I clicked my tongue. If that alarm was sounding throughout the facility, it might attract undue attention. I had to leave, and quick.

…

I looked at the terminal.

Then at the sole exit: a doorway in which a metal door had fallen off its hinges.

Then back at the terminal.

If it was a simple power malfunction, I could probably rig something up easily enough to reconnect the power source. Wouldn't take more than a few minutes. Whatever was on this terminal might even help me find Shiroko.

Might.

It's your own fault you're here. Couldn't leave well enough alone, a certain mutant's voice echoed in my mind tauntingly. Though he probably just meant it as a jab - a way to gauge the limits of my patience - he was right on the mark, and more than I cared to admit.

After attempting to pry open the console, only to find it bolted shut, I carved it open using my Cosmic Knife. I then stuck my head under the console slightly to get a better look at its internals-

"Verifying identity; complete-"

THUD!

"JESUS FUCK!" I shouted, recoiling as I abruptly hit my head on the top of the console from the shock of hearing a voice coming from right behind me.

My heartbeat quickened and I whirled around, drawing my gun.

It was the dead girl.

She was sitting upright.

This same girl was clinically dead just a moment ago.

And yet she was staring right at me through the white shroud still draped over her head.

Spooked shitless, I was damn well ready to start shooting and not stopping until the undead abomination became dead again, but I was dissuaded when she kept on speaking.

"Loading translation software. Complete. Accessing dictionary database. Entry: Jesus. Noun. Male given name. Derived from Hebrew given name Yeshua."

After running a quick check to confirm I hadn't accidentally administered the Jet too early, I cautiously inched closer. Balancing my gun in one hand while using the other to pinch the cloth enshrouding her, I pulled it down slightly, just enough to reveal her face.

Deep blue eyes unflinchingly bored into my visor. Her irises were highly unusual, as within each was a series of concentric circles, reminiscent of camera lenses. Despite this oddity, there was the unmistakable gleam of intelligence in her eyes.

"Entry: fuck. Noun, verb, adjective. Expletive. The act or instance of copulation; the act of damaging something; an expression of contempt, annoyance, or anger. List continues," she droned on.

My mouth hung open as a single light blue square 'halo' materialized above her head, which was gradually followed by several smaller overlapping ones.

"Relationship between subject Jesus and expletive fuck unclear. Please clarify."

Her mechanical speech, her unnatural eyes, her organic-but-not-quite-human skin, the fact that mere moments earlier she was dead as a doornail…

She's a robot…?

No, a synth…!

I had my doubts as to whether such a thing was even possible, to be able to make a robot that was indiscernible from an actual human. To see it right before my eyes, replicated with a Mystic, no less…

It was downright fascinating, more than a little humbling, and even a bit frightening.

The girl tilted her head ever so slightly, either in confusion or mimicry of my own flabbergasted posture.

"Query: what is the relationship between subject Jesus and expletive fuck?"

It was only once she restated her previous question that I actually thought about its contents. Even then, it took me a moment to find the words to speak.

"Just… forget about Jesus, alright?" I said, my speech still working to catch up with my other faculties.

"Acknowledged. Subject Jesus removed from short-term data storage." She blinked once, slowly. "Query: what does expletive fu-"

"Forget about that one too, okay?" I said, shaking my head. "Let's start over."

"Acknowledged. Initiating system reset-"

"Not that start over," I clarified, rubbing my temple. Forgot I was technically talking to a robot.

"Acknowledged. System reset aborted," the girl blankly droned. She stared at me in silence for the next few moments, in seeming indifference that she was still on the business end of a loaded gun.

"Who are you?" I asked, lowering A Light Shining in Darkness but not stowing it just yet.

"Unit designation: AL-1S."

AL-1S… She was the system that that Divi:Sion terminal mentioned.

"What is your objective?"

That seemed to give AL-1S pause.

"Data not found," she said after a long moment of silence.

"Why are you here?"

"Data not found."

"Who are your creators?"

"Data not found."

Well, what data can you find? I valiantly fought back the urge to snark. Sarcasm was rarely productive with robots, from what I experienced.

"Access earliest available memory archives," I ordered. That ought to jumble something around.

"Acknowledged. Earliest archived instance: this unit activated as dictated by protocol six: proximity to approved subject. Approved subject then referenced association between subject Jesus and expletive fuck-"

"Wait, what did you just say?"

"Jesus and-"

"No, before that," I said, withholding my exasperation. "You mentioned something about an approved subject. Are you referring to me?"

"Affirmative."

"What makes me an approved subject?"

"Data not-"

"-found. Got it." I sighed. Freaking figures she wouldn't know anything beyond why; robots are programmed to do things, to recognize things; not think about why things are. Even advanced AIs don't start out questioning the whys of their own existence.

… Wait, if that was her earliest recorded memory…

"Hey, AL-1S. Is this the first time you've ever been… alive?"

"Alive?" the synth repeated. "Verifying meaning: the state or being of living, not dead; the state of being active; animated; responsive. Complete. In response to approved subject's query: affirmative. Approximately-three point-three-two-six minutes ago, this unit achieved higher consciousness - the state of being 'alive' - for the first time following an unknown quantity of time spent in dormancy."

My expression, as well as my grip on my gun, softened.

This whole thing was suspicious as hell. This factory separated me and my companion, leading me specifically to a Mystic synth girl who was programmed to reactivate in the presence of an 'approved subject', which conveniently happened to be me. Who knows why this factory was built; but with roving bands of hostile robots outside and my companion still missing, anything constructed by this factory couldn't have been anything that could be considered conventionally good.

And yet…

I held out my left hand, palm outward and five fingers splayed, in front of her - a generally neutral gesture, one with many interpretations. AL-1S broke eye contact for the first time to eye the neutral gesture, then looked back at my visor, as if trying to comprehend a connection. Eventually, after several seconds of me waiting for her to come to a conclusion, she slowly began to raise her right hand to mirror the gesture, dislodging the fine layer of dust that had accumulated over her skin, bringing her small, pale hand in front of mine, mere millimeters from touching. She looked back to me, and though her features were blank, there were the beginnings of a question formulating in her eyes.

Possible killer robot she may very well be, but so far, she'd done nothing but demonstrate that she was thinking. Aware. Alive.

Nobody deserves to begin their life staring down the barrel of a gun without so much as a chance.

"Do you know a way out of here?" I asked, lowering my hand while she mirrored my movement.

"Negative. Locational data was not pre-installed onto this unit."

I nodded, unsurprised. It was a shot in the dark, but you miss every shot you don't take.

"Do you want to join me? I need to find my companion so we can leave."

"Join?" AL-1S blinked.

"Yes. You have a choice. You can come with me, or you can stay here," I offered. I didn't know anything about synths. Her life, or continued operation, might be dependent on staying in this area. Best to give her a choice just in case she knew better.

"This unit is to follow instructions from an approved subject."

"AL-1S. I asked what you want to do," I said.

"This unit does not comprehend. Please elaborate."

"Well…" I scratched the back of my head awkwardly, as I never had to explain the concept of free will to anyone before, not even robots. "Generally speaking, people choose what they want to do, and if it's possible, they do it. When someone makes you do something and you don't want to do it, or you get nothing out of it, that's… well… coercion. Or worse, slavery."

"Term: slavery. Verifying meaning. Complete." AL-1S cocked her head once more. "Is this unit a slave?"

"You are not," I said firmly. I was hoping to avoid existential questions with someone with the collective life experiences of a newborn infant, but this needed to be clear if she was going to coexist with others… assuming such a thing was possible. Still, had to try. "You're a person, and therefore, you have a choice. You always will have a choice."

"Acknowledged. Updating self-recognition protocols with designation: 'person'."

"Sure," I said, shrugging. Recognizing yourself as a person is a start, I guess. "So, will you be joining us?"

"Affirmative. Unit AL-1S will follow approved subject until dismissal or unexpected cessation of unit function."

"Glad to have you." Frankly, I didn't know what I would have done if she said 'no'. I couldn't force her to leave these Ruins, but leaving her here alone didn't strike me as an ethical option, either. "But try not to unexpectedly cease function, please."

"This unit is equipped with extensive self-maintenance subroutines; normal operation is projected to continue until the event in which this unit sustains catastrophic system damage from external sources."

So, not likely to die unless something else kills her? I wondered what that said about her lifespan. Since she's been here presumably since the civilization here fell, that meant that she was resistant to long-term degradation, at the very least.

And since she possessed a Mystic…

"Hey, you are bulletproof, right?"

"This unit is capable of withstanding up to 2000 joules of applied kinetic energy with minimal external damage and virtually no risk of core damage. Impacts from firearms with muzzle energy in excess of 2000 joules may cause a variable amount of damage to this unit, depending on numerous factors. This unit may provide detailed specifications to those with necessary clearance; does approved subject wish to inquire further?"

Huh. Not bad…

For reference, a bit over 2500 joules was around the upper limit of ballistic protection that some older, non-reinforced models of Power Armor offered. Not all students were equal, durability-wise; small arms would incapacitate weaker students with sustained fire, while you could theoretically plink away at Yuuka or Hoshino with a 9mm for an hour, and they'd shrug it off with (varying degrees of) ease. If AL-1S's claims were true, then that roughly placed her around the higher end on the [Endurance] scale.

I was, in fact, interested in inquiring further, but the still-ringing alarm reminded me of our current situation.

"Probably not a good idea right now."

"Acknowledged." With a distinctly robotic rigidity, AL-1S shifted her legs over to the side of the seat, then suddenly stood up, which had the additional effect of causing her shroud to be undone. Fortunately, her outlandishly long hair was almost enough to double as an impromptu article of clothing… at least until a stiff breeze blows along. "This unit will accompany approved subject-"

"Okay, okay, hold up. Don't you have any, well, clothing?" I quickly said, averting my eyes at Arona's urging. Personally, I thought it was a semi-bad idea to look away from the centuries-old robot that might go berserk or break down or call its other killer robot friends at any given moment, but the Shittim Chest was pretty good insurance for when bad ideas were unavoidable.

AL-1S looked around unceremoniously.

"Negative."

Sighing, I knelt down again and quickly began digging through my things. Spare armor would've been good, not that she needed it. But the issue was her size. But without the time to tailor or modify anything, I just didn't have articles of clothing on me that would fit someone a fraction of my size.

Underneath the strange white GSC-like uniform I found in Schale's advisor's quarters and the Jailhouse Rocker, I caught a hint of blue, with a certain number printed in gold.

Well, there is one thing…

"Here, put this on. Don't want the locals to pick on you for lacking modesty," I said, offering the article of clothing to AL-1S, adding wryly, "Never was much my style, anyway.

AL-1S tentatively accepted the folded, wrinkled outfit. Turning the object over in her hands curiously, the gold along with a spark of… something shined in her eyes, and she immediately set herself to the task of putting it on.

"Sensei…" Arona sharply said just as I turned around.

"I was already looking away, sheesh," I grumbled quietly while scratching the back of my head.

Just because I came from a mostly-lawless wasteland doesn't mean I'm some kind of scoundrel, or a savage…

Several rustling sounds later, I heard a long zipping noise.

"Okay," AL-1S droned, but in a sudden departure from her stiff vocabulary.

Turning around, I said, "What do you think? Doesn't it feel like the beginning of a journey-"

I stopped, stifling a laugh once I saw the grossly oversized bodysuit over her small stature, like she was wearing an unsightly blue burlap sack. Still had nothing on her hair length in terms of ridiculousness, though to be fair, she had hundreds of years to grow it out.

"This unit estimates a sizable decrease in motive efficiency," AL-1S commented.

"Yeah, no kidding. Lemme fix that for you," I offered. Luckily, Vault-Tec designed these things to be one-size-fits-all in a pinch with minimal tailoring involved, and so all it took was tightening a few areas around the seams. "There. Better?"

I stood back, scooping up my gear and the railgun as AL-1S moved her arms a bit to simulate movement.

The Vault 21 jumpsuit was still rather baggy overall, particularly around the joints and ankles, and though there was nothing I could do about the boots, it probably wouldn't be too much of a hindrance in combat or travel.

All she needed to complete the ensemble was a Pip-Boy, really. A shame I wasn't ready to give up mine, Elijah's words about it being a crutch be damned.

"Affirmative," she answered, evidently satisfied with her range of motion.

"Alright. And here, you might need this."

I handed her a Colt 6520 10mm pistol; an Old World model, something I cobbled together out of spare junk in twenty minutes in the Sink for fun. Good, reliable weapon for beginners, just enough for AL-1S to defend herself with, while not being strong enough to hurt if she shot me in the back with it.

She stared at the rugged weapon for a moment, as if unsure what to do.

"Firearm model not recognized. Loading drivers corresponding to closest matching analogue in database. Complete." She promptly spun the weapon around and holstered it in the jumpsuit's belt with an almost uncanny fluidity.

Though I was interested in how she seemed to adapt to the idea of using guns, we had more pressing concerns. I drew my shotgun, gesturing at the ruined exit.

"Good to go?"

The synth girl managed a simple nod.

"AL-1S is ready to begin her journey."