Go To Hell
Northern Wastelands
In and out in and out.
My breath crystalized in the frigid air as I stared down the sights of my rifle. Medicine Stick had served me well in the Mojave and still did even this far north.
In, out.
I squeezed the trigger and the rifle kicked against my shoulder. I watched as the large antlered beast, a rad-elk, fall as the bullet pierced its heart. Like a puppet with its strings cut, its body collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud.
I gave myself a small smile and nod of approval. A good shot and no needless suffering. That's the way it should always be its too bad most beasts and baddies didn't give you the option of being that efficient.
Holstering my weapon on my back, I pulled out my bowie knife and approached the body. I had gotten very good at not letting anything go to waste and I was looking forward to a nice warm and non-irradiated dinner.
Now where was I going to find some battery acid for moonshine?
… - …
"Maybe a bit more salt."
Grabbing a pinch of salt, I spread it over as much of the meat as I could to get a nice even flavor. Inside the log cabin the smell lingered and mixed with the smell of the active fireplace, creating a unique scent and a cozy atmosphere. Thankfully cozy is exactly what I wanted after dealing with the bitter cold and knee-high snow of the Canadian wastelands.
Of course, the cabin itself was unique due to the large amounts of scientific equipment and various workbenches crammed inside. All of it wanted and needed for my year long vacation up in the great white nothing of the north.
"A whole year alone." I said with a smile.
A whole year. To most, the idea of being stuck so far north by themselves for three hundred and sixty-five days sounded like a long time. Those people were not me.
For me a year would probably be over before I could really get my major experiments going before I could grow tired of the peace and short-lived order. It was also a good first test to see how well my empire functioned without my direct leadership.
Empire. I almost wanted to laugh at the thought if it hadn't been so serious. Ruling an empire had most certainly not what I had dreamed of doing back when I was little. No, I had dreamed of becoming a doctor, of helping the sick and injured patients of vault 101. Working alongside dad as we expanded the medical and scientific fields together. Except dad was long gone, hopefully reunited with mom in the great hereafter and I was a king, and I hated it.
Imagine that, Paul Harbinger, the savior of the capital wasteland, wildcard of the Mojave and warlord of the North American continent hated the power he wielded.
The truth was that life had been nothing but chaos and insanity ever since the day I had left the vault. Stumbling out into the wastelands looking for my lost father, exploring ruins, getting caught up in a war, abducted by aliens, heading west, getting caught up in another war, getting lobotomized, taking over a city state and finally ending in establishing a continent spanning empire. Not too shabby for a former vault chaplain.
Its too bad I didn't realize just how right Shakespeare was, "Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown" and all that. The worst part was I knew how easy it would be to just stop caring, stop worrying about the people and the politics and just give in and actually use my power as I saw fit. Its not like anyone could stop me, I was called the most dangerous man on the continent for a reason. I had armies of both well trained and loyal soldiers and cold, unfeeling robots each with enough firepower to wipe out a platoon. After annexing Appalachia, I had more than enough nukes to create a second Great War if I wanted, all the terrifying technology that the Old World had to offer if that weren't enough a god damn alien spaceship equipped with its own death ray in orbit above the earth. If I stopped caring about the people and really put my mind to it I could do what so many had tried before me and conquer the world.
But the problem with that idea was that I did care. I cared about the farmers trying to scrape by, the battle-scarred soldiers who had lost comrades and the grime covered scavengers who did anything they could to survive. What use was conquering the world when the people you cared about suffered for it? If I just continued to conquer and warred without thought, nothing would change, and I would just go down in history as just another tyrant. I wanted to be a bringer of peace and prosperity not more destruction and war.
War never changes, but people could.
I did everything in my power to be a benevolent ruler while still enforcing my will. Better roads, protection of caravan routs, incorporating and expanding the Regulators, reconstruction of the more populated ruins and even the distribution of Old World tech. The Brotherhood of Steel had not been happy about that but they had long since worn out their usefulness to the world. The only reason they still existed as an organization was their intelligence and skill with technology, Veronica's hope that they could change their ways and the memory of both Owyn and Sarah Lyons. Still if Maxson so much as put a foot out of line I would cut it off, I had still not forgiven them for Rivet City and I doubted I would anytime soon. The perpetrators of that debacle had of course been identified and executed on my orders, but it made my blood boil thinking about just how apathetic Maxson and the east coast Brotherhood had become.
Honestly the biggest problem had been coming up with a good rule of law that was both strict yet fair. Thankfully that problem had resolved itself after expanding to the Boston Commonwealth. It had come as a welcome surprise to find the territory in a relatively stable condition after hearing about all the horror stories of the institute and their synths on top of the usual raider and mutant troubles. Instead of the usual chaos of dozens of groups fighting for superiority I find a territory maintained and protected by a local militia group led by a two hundred year old lawyer named Nora.
Nora had been the perfect balance of charisma, intelligence, and willingness for violence. It had been rather easy to bring her into my council and had quickly proven herself capable of dealing with the various struggles of creating laws and law enforcement on a national scale. Honestly if I died before I could properly install a system for checks and balances, I would want her to take my throne.
And there was the crux of the matter, my death.
I was healthy, more healthy and alive than I had any right to be given what I had been through. My DNA had been twisted and mutated through my travels, though the mutations had proven to be boons rather than curses and had enough cybernetic enhancements to extend my life by centuries if I was careful. the problem was that I knew it wouldn't last. Everything had an end, and I knew eventually I would meet my mine whether it came though violence or not didn't matter. I was okay with that, life was special because it was temporary and fleeting. Love will always eventually lead to sadness and grief when the object of love is taken away, but what matters most is if you regretted that love. Do you cry yet cherish the moments you had with that love, or do you despair and wish you had never loved at all? Well, I didn't want to leave regrets.
I was many things, handsome, intelligent, skilled and a good leader, but I also knew I could be reckless, arrogant and down right monstrous when I was pissed off. The one thing I wasn't was an idiot. Ulysses had been a man of symbolism and traditions, studying ancient and recent history to better understand the present and possibly the future. He had tried to drill that into my mind as he enacted his 'little' revenge scheme, granted thermonuclear holocaust had not been that little. Either way his lessons had stuck and I didn't particularly like what I saw.
My empire, my New America Regime was just that, my empire. It revolved around me and what I thought should be done. I was the leader, the king, the figurehead, the god damn lynchpin. Without me at the helm my fledgling nation wouldn't survive a generation because at the end of the day I was its heart and soul and history had proven just how detrimental that could be to an organization.
Alexander the great had conquered his known world but once he was suddenly gone his kingdom fell to ruins. The Enclave scattered and was picked off after the deaths of Eden and Autumn. The east coast Brotherhood lost it's redeeming qualities after the passing of Elder Lyons. The NCR became more and more corrupt and ineffective after the death of President Tandi before their annexation. Hell the Legion was doomed the moment Caesar lost his head because even if they had won the battle for Hoover Dam, they were being led by a man who ruled through fear and wanted only conflict and war.
And so here I am, hiding away from my empire for a year, waiting to see how well it could function when I'm gone. Hopefully I could perfect my system before I eventually bite the bullet. Until then I would just do what I could up here. Get my research and several experiments I had been working on done, repair and finetune my equipment, maybe even catch up on my comic books. Thank god I had thought to restart the comic book industry, one could only reread the same centuries old issues so many times before it got boring.
Turning off the stove, I slid my meal onto a clean plate and collapsed into a refurbished recliner with a content sigh as I tuned my pipboy to an old radio show.
"Warm fire, good food and not a soul in a hundred miles. Sometimes life is just perfect."
As I dug into my meal I finally realized what I had said and let my face fall into an annoyed pout. Reaching to a nearby shelf, I picked up a twisted and sinister looking blade and sat it across my lap. Reality had a nasty habit of interrupting my peaceful moments, so better safe than sorry. Just because there weren't any people nearby didn't mean there wasn't something else lurking outside in the dark.
… - …
Outside in the Dark
"Fuck this ass freezing cold!"
"Sir I told you to pack something warm."
"How the fuck was I supposed to know it would be cold enough to freeze my dick off!"
"Because the book showed us that it would be."
Trudging through normally knee deep snow were three humanoid figures, but humanoid only in the fact they had two arms and legs. They were unmistakably inhuman in every other way. Their skin was bright red, their hands and feet ended in claws, long barbed tails, black and white horns jutted from their heads and their eyes were hellish shades of burning yellow and blood red. They were also very short. The tip of the tallest's head would barley come up to an average man's naval, and that was with boots on. Each were different in their own way. One was a short black haired female wearing a simple black top and black pants with a pair of black and red daggers at her waist and a smile on her black lips. The one next to her had snow white hair, wore a black and white suit and coat with a red bow tie and looked annoyed beyond belief. The last one and tallest wore a fancy black suit and coat, had the largest pair of horns curling back from his bald head and had a rather nasty scowl on his white and red face.
"What?! No it doesn't." The tallest one said.
"Actually yeah it do Blitzo." The female said. "It tells us the location, temperature, weather and the star thingy."
"Star chart, Millie." The white haired one corrected before turning back to his boss. "Sir are you telling me you never bothered to read the grimoire? You know the thing letting us come to the human world and do our jobs!"
The tall one just scowled deeper. "Shut the shit up Moxxie! I'm the one who has to fuck the owl freak to keep that thing. I don't need to read the satan damn thing, that's Loony's job."
Moxxie just rubbed his eyes and sighed. Leave it to Blitzo to not even bother reading or understanding the only book that allowed them to sneak into the human world, a book that also belonged to a prince of hell. Sometimes he had to wonder why he Joined IMP with a boss like him.
"Now that you've dragged us all the way out here do you mind telling us about the target now?"
"Yeah you've been real hush hush about who we're killing." Millie added.
It had been rather odd, Blitzo was usually more than happy to shout about who they had just gotten paid to kill, even using a megaphone when in a particularly excited mood. Instead Blitzo had been practically bouncing with joy yet refused to talk about their target.
Blitzo's scowl morphed into a very satisfied grin, the cold seemingly forgotten. "I don't know some Paul Herpes or whatever. It doesn't matter, what matters is that we kill him and get paid the big bucks. So don't fuck this Moxxie!" Blitzo jabbing his finger in Moxxie's face.
Moxxie just swatted the finger away before responding. "Sir, assassinations are a fixed rate. If you've cheated the client and they find out, we're screwed."
It was common knowledge in Hell that one did not try to cheat their employers because most of its denizens were suspicious by nature and if they found out they had been backstabbed, no one would work with you ever again. That and the chances were they would kill you on principle. That was something even Blitzo could understand, yet his grin just got wider.
"Relax, it's not about how much were getting paid, its how many times."
The other two just looked at each other in confusion.
"Huh?" "What now?"
"Yep, we don't have a client wanting this guy dead. We've got two fucking dozen."
The other imp's eyes widened in shock. Two dozen demons wanted this Paul guy dead? That was unheard of. Sure they had taken on several clients at the same time, but they had different targets. Millie's smile widened and whooped in glee but her husband just stared in shock.
"I wanted to see just how many we could get, and I wanted you two to keep your cock suckers quiet so the clients didn't find out about each other."
"You here that sweetie, were gonna make a small fortune!" Millie said leaning against her husband. Moxxie however was far from excited, in fact he was equal parts pissed and horrified.
"Did you even bother asking about the reasons for wanting him dead, sir?" he asked through gritted teeth.
"Just some tough guys wanting revenge for killing them, nothing new." Blitzo responded as he walked away and towards their target.
"Nothing new?!" Moxxie however was furious and let it be known. "We are going after someone who has killed two-no at least two dozen people. Sinners who might I add lived up here on earth!"
Moxxie as a lover of the arts and a former thespian, he had an ear for stories and figuring out whether or not they were true. He had heard the stories from his grandparents about hell before the Great Fall some two hundred years ago, and how peaceful it had been. The sinners had been confined to the pride ring, the exorcist had only gone after the former humans and the population was kept in check by yearly exterminations. Now everything was chaos across all the rings, the killer angels hunted everything in sight and the overpopulation was still horrible despite over two hundred purges. Things were bad in Hell, but from the stories he had heard, things on earth were just as bad if not worse.
He had listened to the stories and tales of the freshly damned souls as they got drunk to ease the fear of being stuck in hell, at least at first. They had talked about the hardships of earth after they blew themselves up and the things they did to survive. As the years had gone by the newly fallen had been tougher, more hardened and sometimes down right evil. In hell sinners could not be killed except by an angel blade, so the older the demon was meant they were usually more experienced and powerful than the others. Yet more and more of the new demons had proved themselves to be just as dangerous as the ones who had been around for decades or centuries.
Wounds that should have left demons screaming on the floor in pain were barely acknowledge, sights of carnage that would have made others hesitate were considered funny and laughed at. Worse was what they did with their victims. Normally when demons fight, they fight until one is too wounded to do anything, the victor takes or does whatever they want and then leaves the loser to rot. The new souls however seemed to relish in the fact that their victims can't die. There were horror stories about several gang hideouts being decorated with the still suffering remains of their victims.
Moxxie's experiences while working for I.M.P had only confirmed just how terrifying the humans could be. Sure there was the occasional target that was weak and pathetic and the hit was usually put out as revenge for cheating, bad business deals or a single murder. But those tended to be in the more populated towns and cities. The more isolated targets deeper in the scorched land, which was somehow more barren than hell, tended to be very dangerous people. And more than likely their target had killed at least twenty four of those same humans.
"What are you bitching about? We've killed dozens of people, sometimes even when we weren't supposed too. What is the wittle baby wactor scared?" Blitzo teased in a baby voice.
Moxxie could feel his eyebrow start twitching. "Might I remind you sir, we have killed most of them inside their own homes while caught off guard. And let me ask how many times did it end up with us having to escape an angry mob?"
"A few?"
"Oh six!" Millie guessed.
"Thirty seven! Thirty seven times we were found out and nearly killed by gun toting hicks!"
"Pfft, they should have used pitchforks instead if they wanted to be a proper mob." Millie 'helpfully' supplied while Moxxie let out a groan.
"Not helping sweetie. That's not even taking into account the last few jobs who wanted revenge for their deaths."
"The fuck you mean they went perfectly!" Blitzo screamed.
"One was on a gang leader because he backstabbed his old boss, literally. Said gang leader was planning to stuff my corpse until Millie slit his throat, and I'm still not sure if he meant taxidermy or sex."
"Yeah that guy did look pretty rapey." Blitzo agreed.
"Then we had to deal with a human contract killer who almost killed you! Plus I'm pretty sure he knows who we are and is scoping out our office now that he's in hell."
"Note to self, pay off revenge assassin." Blitzo said while writing himself an actual note.
"And the last one wasn't even a person, it was a giant frog!"
"I got swallowed whole!" Millie said with some cheer.
"My wife got swallowed whole! Now here we are standing here in the dark, wandering around in the woods not even knowing where this guy is!" Moxxie shouted as the demons crested a hill…only to stop as they looked upon a small cabin with warm light pouring out of the window.
Blitzo turned to his shorter employee with the most shit eating grin he could muster. "What were you bitching about again? Now quit complaining and get to killing." He then shoved Moxxie forward with a grumble.
The well dressed demon gave a small grumble as he reached behind him and pulled a sniper rifle out of his enchanted fanny pack and took aim.
Looking down the telescopic sight, he scanned several windows before landing on the largest one looking into the cabin. It seemed luck was on the side as there sitting in a rather comfy looking chair was a male human reading a comic book.
Moxxie prided himself on his great estimation skills, it had helped him not only judge distances for sniping but also helped him tailor his wife's wedding dress to near exact measurements. That had earned him a rather amazing honeymoon. Now from what he could tell the human looked to be about maybe six foot four maybe five inches. Tall by human standards but a bit short compared to sin born demons. Lightly tanned skin, short but styled brown hair, a sharp jaw and just the right amount of stubble combined formed a rather handsome human face, although from here the eyes looked a tad strange. His physique looked no less impressive as even under the blue jeans and red turtleneck the demon could still make out powerful muscles that probably weren't just for show. The gauntlet with the green glow on his left hand was a little weird but nothing looked out of place, save for the fact he had a creepy looking blade within arms reach.
"This the fucker we looking for?" Blitzo asked.
"Tall, strong and dangerous looking? Yeah this is probably him." Moxxie sighed as he squared his shoulders and planted his feet. "Sorry about this Mr. Herpes."
The imp took aim and pulled the trigger.
The rifle's hellforged metal slug was chambered in .308 and traveled at about two thousand eight hundred feet per second. It had enough force to smash through and shatter the window and still maintain enough velocity to kill a man. The bullet would pierce the thin bone of the temple and travel into the brain where it would either explode out the other side or bounce around the inside and destroy the grey matter. The target was dead, the clients would be satisfied, and I.M.P could go home after another successful mission.
Except the bullet never made it through the glass. It impacted with a loud 'chink' sound with only a few small cracks spreading out from the bullet. The man behind the glass barely reacted, just sighing before closing his comic book and setting it aside. Then he grabbed his blade, got up and walked over to the glass. He eyed the bullet for a few moments before shifting his gaze.
Moxxie finally figured out why the man's eyes were so odd looking. They were a shade of unnaturally bright green that almost seemed to glow even in the light of the cabin. They were also staring directly into his scope.
"Oooooohhhhh fuck me."
… - …
Inside
"Of course it had to be a sniper." I mused out loud.
Looking out into the darkness, I could just barely make out the shape of the shooter. Something was off about them but from this distance all I could tell was that they were short and appeared to be panicking based off of the fast movements directed at someone else.
I let the shooter settle down and waited until I knew they were looking at me. Then I raised my hand and sent them a come here gesture.
They obviously hadn't expected that and resumed what I guess was an argument with the other person. Again I just waited while scrolling through my pipboy's inventory. A few chems, plenty of stimpaks, a couple armors and plenty of weapons and ammo. More than enough to deal with some assassins.
Like last time the panicking stopped and they seemed to have made a discission as they walked out of the tree line and down the hill. There were actually three of them and like the sniper were fairly short. They stopped just at the edge of the light, hoping to keep themselves somewhat hidden or possibly as a minor attempt at intimidation.
Me being rather annoyed decided that that wouldn't do and went over towards the door, undid several locks, stepped outside and flipped on the lights.
The surrounding area was bathed in a white light that reflected off the ground snow and made the three assassins blink as their vision adjusted. I blinked as well though out of surprise more than anything.
The three things in front of me had to be some of the oddest mutants I had ever seen. Yellow eyes, red skin with horns and barbed tails, they seemed to match the old depictions of the devil. Of course the strangest part was that they not only wielded rather pristine looking weapons and high quality clothes. Everything got dirty out in the wastelands, it was an almost universal law considering the rather ruined state of the world. Mutants also tended to be some of the messiest, most disgusting things out there. The fact these things could be so clean almost threw me for a loop but I managed to hide my surprise.
"Alright you three, who and what are you?"
The tallest one stepped forward and pulled out a golden flintlock pistol with a twirl and pointed it at my head. "Were your worst fucking nightmare pal. Also that's Millie, her peg pal Moxxie and I'm Blitzo. The o is silent by the way."
I raised an eyebrow in response. "What O? No matter, do you guys want me dead for personal reasons or monetary?"
"Mone-what?" the female asked.
"He wants to know if we were hired to kill him." The other male answered.
"Oh. Then yeah."
Should have known. I had lost count of how many times hit squads had been sent after me after the first twenty. However considering these guys hadn't just pulled the trigger as soon as I stepped out the door meant I could use this to my advantage. Possibly even turn them on their employer.
"If that's true then how about we make a deal." I offered.
The tall one raised an eyebrow and lowered his gun by a couple inches. "What deal?"
"Its simple, in exchange for telling me who wants me dead and walking away, I'm willing to offer three thousand caps, here and now. " I offered. It was a good deal, hell if they were willing I could possibly send them after their own employer.
The tall one however didn't seem convinced and raised his pistol again. "The fuck are caps?"
Oh, that wasn't good. If they didn't know about the standard wasteland currency then that limited my options here. Best go with the basics then.
"Not paid in caps then huh? Well I have plenty of supplies, chems if that's more up your alley, even some guns if you're interested."
"What guns!?" the white hared one said stepping forward before the tall one shoved him back.
"If you've got all that then what's to stop us from killing you, taking all your shit and having some after job cake?"
"You mean other than the fact that if you don't, I will kill you all?" I flashed him a small smile as his grip on his pistol tightened though I don't think he knew I noticed.
"You're the one with a gun to his head bitch."
"Yet I'll be the one looting your corpses. Now, last chance to accept my offer." I adjust the grip on the sacrificial blade.
The tall one just smiled at me, smugness almost radiating off him. "Nah. See you in hell!" he said happily, then his pistol barked.
There was a very sudden and sharp pain in my forehead as the bullet impacted. My head snapped back at the force of the hit, though I was glad that I hadn't stumbled backwards. Slowly, I raised my head and leveled a glare at the three wide eyed mutants as blood poured out of the hole in my head, no doubt exposing some of the adamantium coated bone underneath.
"Wrong choice." I uttered, then I charged.
… - …
Blitzo liked to think that nothing could get to him. He had grown up in hell, survived dealing with some of the worst demons in the seven rings, suffered family tragedy, even made a deal with a very thirsty owl prince. He had killed plenty of people, fought tooth and nail all while consistently being underestimated for being an imp… also for his impulsiveness, idiocy, and horrible financial decisions, but mostly for being an imp. He had seen a lot.
A human taking a bullet to the head and looking more pissed off than hurt was a new one.
The demon without missing a beat unloaded his pistol on his target. Unfortunately the man seemed to have the uncanny ability to avoid the incoming fire, ducking and weaving just as Blitzo pulled the trigger. Moxxie, the resident weapons specialist only got a single shot off that managed to graze the man's right arm before throwing the bolt action rifle to the side and digging around in his bag for something more useful. Millie however ran forward to meet his charge with her knives bared.
The demoness leaped in the air and brought her black and red hellish steel down with enough force to completely sever a limb. Paul raised his twisted blade and the ancient iron stopped the demon's knives in their tracks, letting the imp hang briefly in the air. Her smile faded and replaced with a gasp of pain as Paul buried his other fist into her chest, cracking and breaking several lower ribs.
She was launched backwards into her husband, just as Moxxie pulled out a black and red pump shotgun. The two crumpled to the ground in a heap while Blitzo could only spare them a glance before reloading his pistol to continue firing. He had only just put in a new magazine when the human's hand wrapped around the barrel and jerked both it and the imp upwards. With his target hanging helplessly in the air, Paul swung a horizontal slash that would have cut the demon assassin in half.
Thankfully for Blitzo his past as an acrobatic performer and natural agility saved his life. He bent his body in such a way that he could throw his tail upwards, wrap it around the human's arm and pull himself up just as the blade swung past, only managing to cut off the lower part of his coat.
Blitzo was about to sigh in relief when the arm he was clinging to suddenly raced downward and he was smashed into the ground with enough force to make his bones creak. The leader of I.M.P was jostled loose, letting go of his gun and at the mercy of the human.
Blitzo was helpless on the ground, dazed and to unaware of his surrounding to even attempt to pull out his knife. Paul raised his blade and was about to bring it down only to stop as the sound of feet behind him reminded him of the other two. Instead he reached down and grabbed the demon by his throat, spun around and held the thing up like a shield.
Moxxie had just gotten to his feet and took aim with his shotgun when he saw his boss struggling in the human's grip while stopping him from getting a good shot. The human's legs were semi exposed but Blitzo would take the brunt of the blast, and as much as his boss annoyed him Moxxie didn't want him dead.
Suddenly a woman's voiced yelled out "Blitzo!"
Suddenly a spinning blur flew past the two demons and the knife impaled itself in the human's left calf. Paul let out a grunt of pain, loosening his grip on his hostage just enough to let Blitzo break free and kick the human in the chest.
The man stumbled back and Blitzo dove out of the way, giving Moxxie the shot he needed.
The shotgun blast caught Paul in the chest, throwing him back as his sweater was shredded and the red fabric was quickly soaked in blood. With a gasp, the warlord of the north American wastelands fell to the ground, still and unmoving.
The three demons stared waiting for the man to make one last desperate move, something to prove that he was still alive. Instead the body just lay where it fell and the imps let out a sigh of relief.
"Well hck," Blitzo said rubbing his throat as he stood up. "Well job done. Now lets get the fuck out of here. Oh satan, can't belief the bird likes that shit."
"Oh Mox, that was so sexy sweetie!" Millie said as she hugged her husband, careful not to hurt her aching ribs.
Moxxie smiled as his wife embraced him and laid the shotgun on his shoulder. "Im a pretty good shot aren't I?" he said making a finger gun to emphasize the point.
It was then that one of Millie's knives suddenly skewered his wrist, almost slicing off the appendage.
The married couple just starred in shock and did nothing for a few seconds, their brains not processing what had just happened. For a few seconds that is.
"FFFFFFUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCKKKKKK!" Moxxie screamed as he dropped his weapon to clutch at his wounded wrist.
The members of I.M.P looked over in horror at a now standing Paul, the knife in his leg gone and sweater bloody. Reaching up he gave a swift tug and the sweater was torn off revealing a mostly intact and well muscled torso. The only wounds being the shotgun pellets that had only buried themselves halfway in the flesh and were quickly dislodged with a brush of his hand. Paul struck a rather intimidating figure having just survived a shotgun blast without major injury, though it was his eyes that were the most terrifying part. There was no pain, no anger or murderous rage that most would have after an attempt on their life. No, just a calm annoyance, and that alone scared them.
Millie was a rather emotional girl, wearing her heart on her sleeve and was not afraid to admit when she was scared. However that fear was dwarfed by her wrath, her need to kill the one that had hurt the man that she loved.
With a scream she reached into Moxxie's pack and pulled out a large black double headed axe, emblazoned with a red pentagram. She gave it a twirl before charging the human. Paul did nothing as she quickly approached.
"Millie stop!" Blitzo called out a warning, quickly realizing that the human was planning something, only for the cry to fall on deaf ears.
As she got within striking distance, the demoness spun and drove the axe towards Paul's abdomen with all the force she could muster. Paul took a step backwards, the edge of the axe coming within a hairs breath from disemboweling him. As Millie recovered from the missed swing and got ready to try again, Paul spun on his left foot and raised his right to deliver a sweeping kick. This particular move had been a favorite of the NCR rangers, meant to knock their opponent off their feet and open them up for a killing blow. On a normal opponent the kick would be aimed at the other persons legs or kneecaps but against such a short opponent his heel struck her in the chest, breaking all the previously cracked ribs.
Millie fell to the ground with a gasp, and Paul having had enough didn't hesitate. Millie was a tough girl having grown up on her family's farm in the wrath ring. She had learned how to take a hit and show no weakness. Despite that she couldn't help but scream as Paul's ancient blade was driven through her abdomen. The blade met little resistance and the tip exited out of her lower back and pinned her to the ground.
Paul gripped the handle of his weapon as he prepared to remove it from the demon girl and move on to the other two. The crunching of snow stopped him as he rolled out of the way as the taller demon flew through the air, having tried to jump on his back.
Blitzo recovered quickly turning to face the human and sent him a death glare. "You hurt my employee!"
"I'll do a lot more than that." Paul said raising his fists.
Blitzo rushed in swinging, his knife flashing through the air. The imp was small and fast, but the tall human was surprisingly agile and was able to dodge most of the attacks, only gaining a few shallow cuts along the forearms when he chose to block rather than dodge. The demon grew more and more furious with each moment. This bastard had hurt his employee, someone he considered family no matter how much Moxxie disagreed. The problem was the target just wouldn't die!
Blitzo whipped his barbed tail around and aimed it at Paul's face. The human ducked the blow and that's when Blitzo saw his chance. With a lunge the imp drove the knife towards the man's throat as he straitened up. Yet like last time the blow was blocked by the pipboy and the metal casing was unscathed. As the blade bounced off the gauntlet Paul sent a backhanded fist into the imp's nonexistent nose and briefly stunned the demon. Taking advantage of the stationary Blitzo, Paul pulled back his leg and hit him with a bone shattering kick. Aimed right between his legs.
Blitzo stood as still as a statue and let out a very long and high pitched squeal of pain before dropping his knife and falling to his knees as he clutched his groin. He whimpered and let out a deranged laugh as he glared up at the human.
"Y-you're a dick!"
"At least I still have one." Paul said with a small smile.
The human was about to move in for the kill when both human and demon turned their heads as someone shouted "Hey!"
A ways away stood a very angry Moxxie, his wrist bleeding black blood now with the knife removed and a new weapon resting on his shoulder. It was a large rocket launcher with an opening big enough to fit a football and the words 'MY DICK' written on the side. Paul's eyes had a moment to widen as he realized that that weapon of destruction was pointed at him. He had only just begun to move when there was an explosion and fire shot out of the back and the explosive warhead shot forward, hitting Paul in the stomach. Unlike the standard long and thin missiles used across the wasteland, this one was rounded with a decorative spike on the front.
The spike was driven into his flesh and the force of the missile lifted Paul off his feet as the missile carried him along. He didn't even get the chance to scream as he flew towards the cabin and through the open door, all the while he was trying to reach for his pipboy.
As the missile flew into the cabin the explosives went off and there was a muffled boom as the glass windows all cracked, only for the two demons still standing to be blown off their feet as the cabin was torn apart in an even larger second explosion. All the equipment, all the fuel and volatile materials that had been carefully put away all exploded with the power of a mini nuke forming a large mushroom cloud as flames consumed the vacation home, with the messiah of the wastelands at its center.
Moxxie glared at the remains of both the house and the human with hate. "That's for hurting my Millie."
Picking himself up the weapons expert ran over to his fallen wife who thankfully was both still alive and conscious.
"Oh Satan, Millie." He said with worry as he grabbed his wife's hand.
Millie smiled up at Moxxie despite the pain. "Heya sweetie. You get the bastard?"
"Yeah I did. Oh Millie." Moxxie had tears brimming in his eyes now.
Millie rolled her eyes and she grit her teeth and forced herself up into a sitting position.
"Don't you dare cry I'm not dying. Hell same thing happened to uncle Eustace, tried to fight a boar and got a tusk in the belly."
"Didn't he die?!"
"Yeah but only because he pulled it out without getting help. Said he was gonna turn it into a trophy before bleeding out. I think we still have the stuffed body in the attic somewhere."
"The boar or your uncle?" Moxxi asked as he put her arm over his shoulder and helped her to her feet.
"You know I can't remember."
As the couple inspected their wounds, Blitzo had finally recovered enough to waddle his way over to them. He being the one mostly intact he got on the other side of Millie and let out a low whistle as he saw the damage.
"Well, looks like someone can go deeper into your wife than you can Moxxie. Not like its that big an accomplishment." He joked getting a laugh and a grumble from the couple. "Now let's head home, how about a week long vacation to the Envy ring. I know this one house on the beach where there's plenty of surf and homeless to laugh at."
"Oh you hear that Moxxie Sex on the Beach, always wanted to try that. Maybe some actual sex too." Millie said to her husband, expecting him to coo at the suggestion yet hearing nothing.
"Hun?"
Looking over at Moxxie, she saw that his attention wasn't on her but on the remains of the cabin. His eyes wide and jaw slightly open in either shock or surprise. Deciding to figure out why he was like that she took a look herself and mimicked her husband.
The remains of the cabin were still ablaze and were so intense that nothing but demons or the hardiest creatures of the wastelands could survive the inferno. As if to prove that point a silhouette could be seen making their way through the flames. The figure appeared to be limping as it reached the edge of the blaze and revealed itself to the three onlookers.
Gone was the shirtless man with blood-stained jeans, now the human was wearing something meant for war. From what they could see the pants were a thick gray material, but the shirt was hidden underneath the black chest piece with similar armor on the boots, knees, forearms and pauldrons that were resting on top of a long coat. The coat reached to just past his knees and rather than be made of reliable leather was instead made of a more durable material colored an eye-catching hazmat yellow. Then there was the steel mask and helmet encasing his head with the helmet colored a similar shade of black and had the Greek letters alpha and omega overlapping each other painted in a bright yellow on the left side. The mask was a steel gray with scratches and scars marking the violence it had seen and a single lens shaped into an evil glare and glowing a vile green.
And that same green glare was aimed right at the three demonic assassins.
"Oh you have got to be fucking me!" Blitzo swore.
"You…" The armor clad Paul said with so much hate it surprised the residents of hell. "You blew me up."
The figure took a step forward despite the foot at the end bending at an odd angle. "You blew up my vacation home."
Another step forward and this time the demons took several of their own backwards.
"You. Blew up! MY! COMIC BOOKS!" the wastelander roared, sounding almost bestial. His shoulders shook with rage before they slowed and eventually stopped as he straitened his posture and leveled his gaze at his would-be killers. "I am going to turn your hides into a new coat." He said sounding less furious but more dangerously calm.
"Sir, I think now would be a good time to tactfully withdraw with haste." Moxxie said trying to keep himself calm.
"Run like a bitch? Couldn't agree more." Blitzo said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his hellphone, making sure to not take his eyes off the human who had just seemingly summoned some sort of needle after messing with his gauntlet.
Quickly going to is contacts he pressed the call button as quickly as he could.
"Immediate Murder Professionals what do you want?" A bored female voice said from the other end.
"Looney sweetie? Could you please open the portal for us right now if you could?" he asked sweetly.
"Yeah yeah give me minute. Ah shit I spilled my beer, hold on."
"Loony fuck the beer and open up the portal." Blitzo watched as the man grabbed his dislocated foot and snapped it back into place with a sickening snap.
"Wha? Blitzo what's going on?"
The man then jabbed the needle into his ankle and flexed the limb before standing up straight, seemingly perfectly fine. Then he charged.
"Loona open the portal now!" he screamed into his phone as one of the most dangerous people to walk the wastelands bore down on I.M.P.
…-…
I.M.P Offices
The hell hound stared wide eyed at her phone as the line went dead, now realizing that her fellow employees and adoptive dad were in trouble.
Blitzo had just given her an order without any insults, euphemisms, or curses. Whatever was happening earth side must have been bad.
Jumping up from the couch she stuffed her phone in her shorts pocket and bolted for her desk and flipped open the blue and gold book to the page with the portal runes. Slamming her paw down on the palm sized circle she felt the energy in the room buzz as blue motes of light drifted off the page and a small ring made of red flame appeared on the left-hand wall. Suddenly the red flame expanded until it formed a perfect circle that stretched from the floor to the ceiling and the inside showed the snowy landscape of somewhere on earth.
Loona was about to poke her head through the portal to see what was going on only to pull herself back as a screaming Moxxie flew through the air and slammed into the opposite wall where he stayed for several seconds before peeling off the wall and crumpling to the floor, mumbling about all the pretty stars.
Millie came through next, stumbling towards Moxxie with a damn sword in her stomach! Loona thought about going to help her just to stop when Blitzo came through as well, only he wasn't alone.
Blitzo had his tail wrapped around the neck of some guy in black armor and a yellow coat while the man had the demon in a headlock that he was struggling to break out of.
Without hesitation the hellhound ran at the two, claws at the ready. With her long legs and quick strides, she was on the man in a second. Unfortunately for her she roared as she did, alerting Paul to her presence and despite having his hands full he met her charge with one of his own. Her claws flashed with surprising speed that was meant to tear off the steel mask and gouge out the flesh underneath. Of course to compare the strike of a hellhound to the assault of a deathclaw was like comparing a .22 to a .50 caliber, and Paul had personally dealt with hundreds of deathclaws, some capable of destroying small armies.
With a smile hidden behind his mask, he tilted his head and twisted his body in such a way that he was safely out of her reach, but Blitzo wasn't.
Loona's eyes widened as she tried to stop her arm, but the force behind her attack carried her claws forward despite trying to pull back. It was thanks to those efforts her claws only cut down to the vertebrae rather than all the way through Blitzo's tail.
The imp screamed as the tail around Paul's neck relaxed, freeing his head which the human used to headbutt the hellhound in the face. The helmet impacted her snout with a wet crunch as her nose deformed and black blood poured out as she stumbled back in pain.
Blitzo being in extreme pain and just witnessing an attack on his adopted daughter let out a scream of rage and broke free from the headlock and with one fluid motion turned around, pulled out an extra knife and jammed it deep into Paul's neck.
Blitzo landed with a sadistic smile but didn't even get a chance to gloat before a foot slammed into his face sending him and several teeth flying through the air and landed back first against Loona's desk. Reaching up to his neck, Paul pulled out the knife with a jerk and a grunt of pain. He briefly checked his neck and found the wound wasn't as deep as he thought and that the bleeding was already slowing down. Cybernetics could do wonderful things.
Taking a moment to focus on his surroundings Paul was surprised to see himself standing in an office with an odd red, black, and pink color scheme. There were even some windows looking out on an unfamiliar skyline with a dirty pink sky.
"What the hell?"
Turning around he saw a strange circle of what looked like fire and on the other side he could see the freezing snow and the remains of his cabin. Looking back and forth between the office and the land beyond Paul let out a whistle of appreciation.
"Well would you look at that. How did you lot get your hands on teleportation tech? And one that can create a stable quantum entrance. Huh no molecular locking pylons or targeting platforms. Don't see anything that could keep a portal stable but still, not bad for some half assed assassins."
"Hey! We are full assed thank you very much!" The taller one said as he slowly got to his feet using the desk to prop himself up.
"Still alive? You muties are tougher than you look." Paul said as he walked towards the red skinned female who hissed at him as she tried to drag herself towards the white haired one. Reaching towards her, Paul grabbed the handle of the ritual blade even as Millie attempted to claw at his armored arm to no effect. Then with a heave the blade tore its way back out of the demoness and she fell to the floor desperately trying to stem the bleeding.
Her screams managed to rouse Moxxie from his dazed state and he attempted to stand up only to find his body too weak to get to his feet, but desperate enough to try and drag himself towards his wife with his one working hand.
Paul turned back towards the taller imp only to get a furry foot to the chest that managed to shove him against the wall.
Quickly recovering, Paul ducked a claw strike that had been aimed at his head only to hit drywall. Loona growled in both pain and irritation as her attack missed. Pulling her arm back she sent another kick at the man that hurt her 'dad'.
Unlike the first kick, Paul saw this one coming and braced himself for the impact. As the kick landed, his free hand shot out and grabbed the paw to hold it still. Loona saw the danger she was in and tried to pull her leg back but found herself unable to break free from the human's iron grip. With his one hand holding Loona's foot in place, he brought the one holding his blade up, placed it against the back of her digitigrade leg and let it bite deep into her flesh.
The razor sharp edge sliced deep into the hound's leg, severing muscles and tendons in a spray of black blood. Loona screamed as the white hot pain shot through her leg, not helped by Paul shoving her backwards by her wounded extremity. Letting go of her foot, Loona tried to keep her balance by instinctively putting her foot down, only to collapse as the slashed muscles refused to hold her weight.
Collapsing to the floor with a sob, she could do nothing as the human loomed over her, his green lens glaring down at her. With a small twirl, Paul reversed his grip on his weapon, grabbed it with both hands, raised it high and brought it down. The deadly tip aimed at Loona's heart.
Off to the side Blitzo could only watch in horror as his daughter was about to die. About to die and he could do nothing about it. He was hurt, his body soar and weak from his injuries and the only thing keeping him on his feet was Loony's receptionist desk. As his Loony fell to the ground his mind was racing, trying to figure out how to take the human down.
His gun was gone and even then, the target had proven to be extremely durable without armor and with it he had survived an exploding missile. His knives weren't within reach, and he knew that if he tried to take the human on bare handed, he was a dead demon. He was almost spent and here he was doing nothing as his daughter was about to die.
As the blade came down time seemed to slow as an idea struck him, not a particularly smart one but an idea nonetheless. He didn't need to kill Paul, just stop his blade.
The question was how?
If he were suicidal he could throw himself in the way, but not only would that kill him, it wouldn't accomplish anything. He would die and based on what happened to Millie it wouldn't even be enough to save Loony. He needed something thick enough to keep the blade from killing him. It was of course at that moment that his fingers brushed against something that would be perfect for the job.
Had he thought about it a little more he probably would have realized how stupid of a plan it was.
In an act of pure desperation Blitzo grabbed the object off the desk and threw himself at the prone hellhound. He landed with a thud just as the blade was coming down and extended his arms as far as they could go and braced himself for the attack.
Paul, uncaring of Blitzo brought the machete down with all his might. The object Blitzo was holding barely slowed the blade down as the weapon older than recorded civilization impaled the book that had tried to block its deadly arc. However, the blade may have continued without resistance, the weapon came to a halt as the handle slammed into the blue and gold cover of Stolas' grimoire.
Blitzo didn't really care about the magical book at the moment, he was more concerned about the tip of the blade only an inch away from skewering his eye. With a gulp Blitzo tried to push the book and the blade up to try and get the instrument of death pointed away from him. Of course, Paul didn't make that easy for him and began to push back to try and finish the job. During the struggle of will that Blitzo was slowly losing, neither saw the grimoire begin to shake as small pulses of blue electricity began to flow along its pages.
As Blitzo pulled his head back to avoid the approaching blade he felt his hands begin to burn, which was a rather unique experience for the fireproof demon. Still, he held on for dear life to keep that blade from running him through.
This didn't last however as the book flared with hot arcane electricity that forced the imp to let go, fully expecting a blade to the face. He was pleasantly surprised however when the weapon instead pulled back as the electricity ran down the metal blade, turning from a magical blue to a sickly green.
Paul was confused of course, not understanding what was happening nor why his blade had been electrified. He wasn't confused for long however, too preoccupied trying not to scream his head off as the energy jumped from his blade, into his hand and across his body. To the demons it was as if the human had suddenly been wrapped up by thousands of small hissing and cracking tendrils of some kind of eldritch beast.
As they watched Paul struggle against the infernal energy, the tendrils began to brighten and cast the room in a green glow. The shadows it spawned seemed to twist and writhe in the light and only grew darker as the magic seemed to reach a climax.
Then just as the light got to blinding levels, the light disappeared with a small pop. The office returned to its normal level of brightness and the shadows returned to their normal non-writhing states.
Blitzo grabbed at his chest as he tried to calm down his panicked breathing. The imp had once seen and felt the true power of Stolas, if only for a minute, it had an almost physical weight to it that pulled at your very being. That light had been similar but somehow so much darker. It had felt poisonous, corrupting, destructive and more than anything it felt ancient. Now with that light gone he felt as if he could breathe again and looking around he actually felt like smiling.
The human was gone.
Paul whats-his-name was gone and probably dead. Blitzo felt like laughing with joy at the thought, at least until he realized just how bad of shape everyone was in. Millie was trying to keep her insides inside while Moxxie was trying to help her with his one working hand. His daughter was a whimpering mess as she tried to stem her bleeding leg. Hell, Blitzo himself felt like he was one love tap away from keeling over.
Pulling out his phone, Blitzo was about to call for an ambulance when he noticed something that made his blood go cold.
The human was gone, and so was the book that allowed them to journey to the human world. The book that had been the key to his business and let him support his family. More importantly the book that had been loaned to him by prince Stolas of the Ars Goetia, and no matter how much the owl loved his dick, Blitzo knew that losing the book was beyond bad. Skinned alive and head hanging above the fireplace bad.
"Could this day get any worse!?"
Of course it was at that moment that the portal to the snow covered land of the human world collapsed in on itself until it was nothing more than a small ball of fire which promptly exploded with a small crack and a few stray embers. Embers that were still hot enough to ignite the wallpaper that quickly caught fire and spread to the rest of the room in seconds.
"Fuck."
…-…
Elsewhere
I had experienced several types of teleportation before. The first time had been on board an alien mothership, the main form of transportation to get around the ship itself. It had felt rather pleasant, like standing in a ray of sunshine. The second type of teleportation had been the transportalponder used by the Big Mountain scientists. That one had contrasted with the Zetan teleporter, making your body feel like it had been stuck inside a refrigerator for a few days. Extremely uncomfortable but nothing too bad. This however was so much worse.
The best way I could describe the feeling of this teleportation was as if each atom of my body decided that self-immolation was an amazing idea, but regular fire just wasn't enough. No they decided that superheated plasma was the better way to go. I'm pretty sure had I actually been able to get air into my lungs I would be screaming.
That was another part of the problem.
The teleportation didn't stop. Every couple of seconds there was a painful flash of green and suddenly I was somewhere else. The top of a snow capped mountain in the middle of a blizzard, suddenly being crushed under the weight of an ocean, landing in a desert surrounded by several volcanos. One of the teleportation's I swear I was in space for a few seconds.
I'm not sure what was going on but I knew it needed to stop and the only thing that I could think of was to get that damned book off my machete. I'm not sure how or why but I knew that the book was doing this. Maybe it wasn't a book at all, maybe it was some kind of teleportation remote disguised as a book. And I had stupidly run it through.
Grabbing the book, the pain doubled as I teleported once again and was glad to feel my feet land on solid ground. With a scream of pain, I wrenched the book off the blade and the pain disappeared instantly. Reaching over to my pipboy, I tapped a button and my mask and helmet disappeared in a flash of green light. The atomization capabilities of the pipboy had saved my life more than once.
With a heave I retched up a mouthful of blood that splattered on the floor, though now I saw was standing on wooden table rather than the ground. With my airway clear I gulped down mouthfuls of oxygen as I got my bearings. I saw that I was inside a large extravagant hall that I'm assuming was a part of some manor. The table I was standing had several plates of delicious looking food, or at least they had been before my sudden appearance and blood splatter ruined it.
"Oh the evening entertainment has arrived." A amused sound voice spoke.
Looking down from the table I saw that I was not alone and there were three other people sitting around the table. Well, people might be too strong of a word. The three beings all appeared to be some kind of bird mutants with red eyes, and much like the little red ones they wore very fine looking clothes, though the shortest one seemed to have some sort of ripped greaser attire and combined with the rather bored looking expression made me think of a teenager. The other two both seemed about eight feet tall and dressed in a Victorian style dress and suit with the female looking one glaring daggers at me while the male had a rather pleased smile.
"Woops. Sorry about just dropping in out of nowhere, I didn't have much choice in the matter."
"Oh no I fully understand, random unstable teleportation is far from pleasant." The male said in an airy tone. "Might I ask how many times you transported?"
"Well it happened every couple seconds for about a minute, so about two dozen times." I said to the bird man, who I am now realizing actually had four eyes instead of two.
"Two dozen? My I am surprised you are still standing. From what I understand several uncontrolled teleportations is enough to kill most hellborn as their molecules are torn apart."
Hellborn? Was that a gang or something?
"Yeah I can attest to tha-" I was saying until I had another bloody coughing fit, and my attempt to cover my mouth just resulted in the book being covered in my blood. My eyes widened as the electricity started up again and seemed to focus on the blood that had landed on the cover before reaching for me once more.
"Oh shit!"
In a panic I pulled my arm back and threw the damned thing with all my might. As it flew through the air, the green arcs of energy shot out and latched onto my arm and somehow pulled itself back into my hand. I didn't even have time to question how it had done that before the familiar feeling of energy surrounded me, only instead of a flash of light and horrible pain, a circle of fire opened underneath my feet and suddenly I was falling.
The sudden drop caught me off guard for several seconds, but I quickly got my bearings and saw that I was about a thousand feet from the ground. In those few moments I realized several things. One, I was above a city of some kind. Two, I was falling towards a strange looking tower. And three, if I didn't do something I was going to go splat.
Quickly letting go of the blade and book, I spread out my arms to slow myself down and angled myself towards the tower's roof and was glad to see that it was pointed with a soft decline. A perfect place to land.
Bracing for impact, I slammed into the roof, just avoiding the point and almost turning myself into a kebab. Rolling with the decline I was able to dissipate most of the force but still had the air knocked out of my lungs. I flailed a bit as I rolled towards the edge of the roof and was just about to fly off when I managed to wrap my hands around one of the decorative spikes. With a heave I pulled my self up and collapsed onto the roof while trying to force my body to breathe again.
My limbs were tired, my muscles burned and I'm pretty sure I still had some internal bleeding. God, why couldn't you have let me have one day to relax? I just stayed there for several minutes, letting my body rest with my eyes closed. Maybe I could even grab a quick nap?
No, I still had to figure out where I was. With a deep sigh I sat up, opened my eyes…and looked upon a pentagram.
I blinked a few times, not truly believing what I was seeing. There hanging above in a blood red sky was a red glowing pentagram. Off in the distance was what looked like a deep red moon with a star carved into its surface. Shifting my gaze downwards, I saw that the city I had landed in was massive. Extending for miles and looked mostly untouched, like it had been plucked from the old world and spared from the nuclear apocalypse. Except everything was off. The stone all seemed unnaturally dark, some buildings looked as if they belonged back in the dark ages while others resembled old world skyscrapers. Then there were all the strange windows that resembled eyes that I swore were watching me.
"This can't be right. No fucking way." I said with a hint of panic in my voice. It just couldn't be possible. This…this had to be earth. Right? Just somewhere with enough pollutants to turn the sky red, like the Sierra Madre. And the pentagram could be a projection of some sort, one large enough to cover the whole city.
Yeah, that sounded stupid even in my own head.
"Where am I?" I whispered to myself.
Off in the distance I could see multiple neon signs. Some were advertisements for where to find good priced prostitutes, some were the names of the local restaurants, but one stood out to me. It was smaller than the rest and the only one hanging off the side of a tall building. There written in bright yellow letters was a single sentence that almost made my cybernetic heart stop.
'Welcome to Hell!'
…-…
I think this might be a good summer project for me. Yes I know I have plenty of other stories I could be working on but my muse is a bitch and my procrastination knows no bounds.
Now about the story. Obviously this is going to be a major AU because not only is there literally only one episode, but because its mixed with Fallout earth, with Olivia as a prime example. Rather than be the typical rebellious teenager punk, she's now the typical rebellious teenager greaser. Plus I rather like some of the fan comics and plan to bring in some of their ideas as well.
Please leave a review and tell me what you think and have a good day.