IMPORTANT.

If you read the version with space shuttle, forget about it. It was a part of old rework I did, more explantion at the end. Enjoy.

Despite finding a road to travel, the Courier found it deserted for the most part. He expected to see at least one caravan every now and then, but thus far no such luck. Hell, he hadn't even come across other prospectors, much less raiders. This in itself reminded him of the way Caesar's Legion protected it's roads. Any bandits stupid enough to attack a caravan under their protection would get crucified, enslaved or simply executed on the spot.

A very efficient tactic, he had to admit, much better than the New California Republic's approach, which left them overextended, not able to guard their roads and with enough taxes from tools that many merchants outright disliked trading with the NCR. It was probably one of the reasons why the roads were so safe, even if they seemed deserted for the time being.

Unfortunately, despite his best efforts, he was unable to come across any settlements. It was already getting late and the Sun was about to set. This left him with two choices, continue onward during the night or find a spot to rest and take a nap. But first, he needed to check how he was holding up, as he went into his stats tab and checked his current body needs. Looks like he was right on the money, as he felt quite parched, a little bit hungry and a bit sleepy as well. Nothing too serious, but he preferred to take care of his needs, as they sprung up.

Now that he thought about it, the last time he had bathed was at least a day ago. He sniffed the inside of his armour and winced as the smell of sweat entered his nostrils. Yeah, he definitely could use a bath and a bit of break too. After all, one needed to bath on a regular basis to prevent infections and diseases, something he had quite a bit of experience in. And above everything else, to not smell like a brahmin waste when talking to other people.

First, he took off his armour – standing only in a pair of pants, leaving his scarred body exposed, something he tried to avoid. The reason for that was rather simple, he looked like crap and he didn't feel like getting shot while taking a bath. He had a decent looking mug, at least back when he first began, but it got all banged up with a plethora of scars he got from his unfriendly adventures through the wasteland.

Scars, big or small, never came across as friendly, so he wasn't too keen on showing anyone what's under the mask. However, scars were quite common in the wasteland. With the talent he had for talking, it wouldn't have been a problem. But there was radiation mixed in, and that never made anyone look good.

One could see his pale body covered in scars, being a proof of using armour on a regular basis to prevent sunburns, stray bullets, and lasers from hurting him. However, it was nothing compared to how he looked beneath the armour. His black hair, which used to reach to his neck, was nothing more but few patches of it remaining on his head. His skin was similar to a beef jerky, as the radiation wrecked havoc across his body, making him look similar to a ghoul. It was a price he had to pay, for allowing the Rad Child to do it's magic.

He had wrinkles under his eyes, his green eyes, which used to be full of life, now mostly devoid of it, save for an eerie green glow, almost imperceptible if one wasn't specifically looking for it. A single massive scar running from the middle of his left eyebrow to the middle of his cheek. A walking corpse, that's what he looked like, not that different from all those pre-war movies he watched some time ago, with zombies and such.

Shaking his head, he focused back on cleaning his body and armour. First thing he did was pull a big cooking pot from his duster, before placing it on the ground and filling it with two bottles of purified water. Once that was done, he dumped a bit of abraxo cleaner and began washing his attire thoroughly – the water turning brown from the sheer amount of dirt and sweat inside his attire. Now, it was time to clean himself. With a bottle of purified water and a bit of soap, he began cleaning himself, making sure to not use more than a bottle on himself. Water was a precious commodity in the scorching heat of the Mojave, one should not waste it bathing too often.

"Feels good to finally wash off all that sweat," He said to himself.

Once he was done, he smelt himself and smiled. Hygiene was one of the most important parts of medicine after all, as he focused on other needs of his body. Taking off his helmet and putting it upside down, he materialized a coyote steak, from his Pip-boy, which looked as if the steak assembled himself from thin air.

The process was known as the atomization. That way, he didn't have to worry about carrying a massive backpack the size of a Yao Guai. He had no clue how it worked. It was an Old World's tech, he didn't question it, he was just happy it worked. The best part of it was that for all intents and purposes, it placed all the items he came across in 'stasis' of sorts.

No matter when he picked up the food, ammo, guns, etc, they always remained fresh and undamaged. Pre-War world truly had some of the most ingenious designs in humans history. The steak was just as hot, as the day it was cooked, the aroma cocked meat getting into the remains of his nostrils, causing him to drool. Licking his lips, he dug into into the steak, the golden-brown crust crackling with each bite. The meat was gamey, yet with with a rich flavour. A meal born of survival – simple and savoury. Once he was done with the steak, his belly now satisfied, he followed it up with two bottles of water, before he put the helmet back on.

That left only sleep deprivation on his agenda. Now, the thing about camping in the Wasteland was that it was dangerous as hell. Simply putting a sleeping bag on the ground and hoping for the best could end up with a slit throat or a bullet to the brain, not to mention becoming a deathclaw chow for the night. That's why when caravans camped, they set up patrols and night shifts, which helped avoid situation like this one. Unfortunately for him, he couldn't rely on anyone else, but himself.

Thanks to all the things he had been through, all the implants located in his body and the tech from the Big Mountain, he had very high tolerance when it came to surviving without a sleep for extended periods of time. Between metal infused bones, a ton of implants, artificial heart, tesla coils in his head and few other bits and pieces he didn't mention, he was a full on cyborg. Heck, he wasn't even sure how many human parts were left in him at this point, though he was quite certain at least fifty percent of his body mass was artificial. Unfortunately, he still needed needed to sleep every now and then, be it camping in the desert or ruins of sorts.

This was not new to him, in fact, he had plenty of experience camping in the Mojave and there were a few ways one could protect themselves when camping alone. Finding a good shelter would help, be it a cave, a ruined building or somewhere away from prying eyes. A simple campfire burning in the middle of desert could be seen from distance, which one needed to avoid.

The next step involved getting ready for the night, by placing either mines, traps or other alarm systems one had available. Having a gun stashed under a pillow also helped, should it come to worst. And last, but not least, if you were lucky enough to come across one of the few remaining sets of Advanced Power Armour, you could take a nap inside of one. It was not as good as proper sleep, but it made it for it, by being the safest of them all.

The Courier quickly considered his options, looked around, before deciding on the last one. He took a few steps away from the road and then began browsing his Pip-Boy. Remnants, Remnants, Remnants… Aha, Remnants Power Armour. He said, as read what pip-boy had to say about it.

"The insectoid visage strikes fear into the hearts of NCR troopers and Vault dwellers alike. The Mark 1 Advanced Powered Combat Armour was, despite baseless rumours to the contrary, manufactured post-war by the Enclave on their offshore Oil Rig. This is likely one of the last models in existence, further enhanced by the GENIUS of Think Tank," He read out loud. "Oh yeah, I did give them the armour to improve upon, didn't I? Nice, let's put this baby on."

With a few presses of buttons, his trusty Elite Riot Gear was replaced with a massive metal suit of saturnite goodness. It stood over two meters two, it's bulky and imposing design, similar to that of an insect. It had a black finish, with large shoulder plates providing extensive protection and featuring motion-assist servo-motors, along with auto-gyro, recycling system and air conditioning, making it perfect for long desert travels and one of the most durable armours in his possession, in fact, the most durable one, now that he thought of it.

The sensation of stepping into power armour for the first time, could be a bit claustrophobic. It enclosed the user's body in a protective layer of armour, covering every inch of their bodies, but also limited the visibility to some extent. No matter how good the design was, field of view was limited, when compared to even his Elite Riot Gear, as it was meant to protect from bullets and other threats.

However, the sheer mass, strength and power of the suit could make their users feel unstoppable, and they weren't that far off. A small chapter of Brotherhood of Steel was able to hold out against the might of NCR's military, causing causalities in at least twenty-to-one ratio. However, they were not invulnerable, as EMP grenades could be used to disable the armour or even destroy it, while armour piercing bullets could overcame even the power armour. This was especially problematic in earlier models, but new ones compensated by diverting the power of EMP towards the user, saving the armour and potentially killing the operator. Harsh, but necessary, power armour was often far more valuable than the one wearing it, even if they required training to be able to wield it without any problems.

Now, you may ask, if power armour is such powerful tool, why didn't he use one? Why did he use Elite Riot Gear instead? It was a combination of factors to be perfectly honest. One thing that he learned during his travels was the power of 'luck' and 'lucky hits'. These hits could turn a simple shot into an instant death and were very useful, when dealing with opponents with a lot of armour or just crazy tough in general.

On top of that, thanks to being quite a lucky individual, he was able to use it to his advantage. His luck allowed him to clear out all the casinos on the New Vegas Strip and thanks to a few other perks turn even something as weak as .22 silenced pistol into a powerful weapon that hit far harder, than you would initially expect from such a low calibre. The downside of that? It wasn't always reliable. Some weapons were better for his type of fighting, most notably energy weapons, but he didn't like them all that much, he preferred guns for the most part.

He could still recall vividly how he almost died, because lady luck didn't shine on him in the few moments that really bloody mattered. That's why he chose Elite Riot Gear over any type of power armour. It helped tip the odds in his favour just the tiniest bit more. Being able to kill a Deathclaw with a single round of .308 ammo, when getting a drop on one would never not be exhilarating.

Leaving his musings aside, he walked off the road and made himself comfortable in the suit of armour, before locking the servos. He then set up an alarm for about six hours, before he slowly closed his eyes, his breathing becoming slow and steady, as he drifted off into Morpheus' embrace.

"I'm going to become adventurer! And make you proud, grandfather!" A certain boy with red eyes and white hair exclaimed, as he travelled the road towards the city of adventurers, Orario.

The road was safe, having been cleared by one of the caravans recently and with the Sun shinning brightly, he could not help but be excited. It had not been an easy journey, especially for someone without Familia or other friends, but Bell Cranel was not the type to simply give up due to that. He was wearing a simple pair of black leather pants, a brown jacket and black t-shirt with a matching pair of boots. With a bright smile on his face, the boy continued down the road, until his eyes noticed a figure standing on the side of the road.

At first it was hard to make out the details due to the distance between them, but as the boy got closer, he could make more and more details, including the massive size of the figure and metal sheen of armour. His eyes spread wide open, his steps slowing down, as he came within ten meter distance of the figure. It looked like a suit of metal armour, but nothing like he had seen or heard before about. To make matters worse, it looked very scary and filled the boy with a feeling of dread, sweat falling down his forehead. But… why was it just standing there by the side of the road like this?

Curiosity got the better of him, as he slowly moved closer, until he finally stood in front of the armour itself. Here, he could really see just how much bigger the armour was compared to him. Not only did it stand over two heads taller than he did, it was also big, bulky and looked like it was made to fit a small giant, it's pair of insectoid yellow eyes only making it seem creepier.

The boy gulped loudly, as he took a step forward, only for the armour to immediately come to life! It's eyes began shining yellow, as it straightened it's posture, standing even taller than it did moments ago. Then it's gaze turned towards him and he saw his unremarkable life flash before his eyes, before he screamed loudly, turned around and ran towards the city itself, not daring to look behind himself.

Unbeknownst to the boy, while he was busy running for his life, the Courier was confused about the whole interaction. He was happily sleeping, until he heard the sound of footsteps and immediately stirred from his slumber. His first thought was the fact that a raider or something similar had tried to sneak up on him and failed, only to notice a young boy staring at his power armour, like he had never seen before.

This wouldn't be that confusing, most people in the Wasteland haven't seen a suit of power armour themselves, with them being as rare as they are today. However, most would have at the very least heard about it, which could explain his curiosity. More importantly, he was able to come across another living, breathing human being! Okay, the boy looked like he was suffering from albinism, but he was still another human, which he would take.

While he didn't get that of a good look at the boy, he was able to confirm a few things, based on the short interaction the two had. One, he didn't end up in a forgotten part of the world, where humans did not venture. Two, the boy had no armour, not even a leather one and no gun on his body, not even a simple 9mm pistol. While it wasn't unusual for bandits and raiders to employ baseball bats and other melee weapons, guns tended to be favoured due to their range and often better power.

And last but not least, the boy obviously had not seen a suit of power armour before. Where was he? Japan? Did they devolve back into samurai and he just found himself in their country? Hell, if he knew. Regardless, it was time to go, as he de-atomized Elite Riot Gear back on his body and resumed his journey. He didn't even feel that worried anymore, especially since kids such as the one he saw could travel a road, without getting assaulted by a bunch of raiders, his previous encounters with the goblins excluded.

While musings about his current circumstances, he noticed a fork in the road with yet another sign post. Just as before, he had no idea what any of them, but it looked like he needed to choose to take a path. One lead further west, while the other shifted into more southwest direction. Looking between them, the Courier shrugged, took the path west and resumed his trek, hands crossed behind his neck, as he gazed into the clouds.

"No pockets of radiation, no mutated creatures, no deadly predators, a few bandits and a lot of peace and quiet… Definitely not the Mojave or anywhere close," The Courier muttered to himself.

This all sounded way too good to be true and yet, here he was experiencing it with his very own eyes. Just where the hell was he? Just as he pondered about his current situation, something appeared on the horizon. At first it was too far away to make any real details, but as he got closer, he noticed something that stopped him in his tracks.

It was a tower, a massive tower, that seemed to try and reach the Heavens themselves and could easily be seen from the distance, similar to Lucky 38. It was just as tall, if not a bit taller than a former casino and home of Mister House, but the design was completely different. He wasn't sure why, but it reminded him of the old stories about babel tower from the mythology itself, details excluded.

"Well I'll be damned, that's one hell of an engineering feat, if you ask me," Courier whistled in approval.

Making sky scrapers like this was not an easy feat, even for advanced pre-war technologies. And yet, he found himself in area where people were able to raise such structures and even make them stable enough to not fall over. Perhaps he wasn't that screwed after all! If they could make buildings like this one, making guns, energy weapons and such would probably be just as common and the reason why the boy didn't carry one was due to the fact the roads were that safe. Damn, he was envious, he wanted the roads and the general area of the Mojave to be just as safe, sooner rather than later.

With his mood vastly improved, the Courier continued his journey with a newfound vigour, getting closer to the city in the process. The closer he got the more details began to emerge, starting from massive walls surrounding the tower and possibly a city as well, followed by a river heading inside the walls and massive farming fields, where even from the distance he could see humans doing their jobs of cultivating crops and gathering them.

That wasn't the only thing that changed, the traffic started to increase substantially. He was coming from one of the less known roads, as he could see multiple of them converging on the city itself. And that's when things started to get weird. At first he thought the boy not having any firearms on himself was abnormal, but the closer he got and the more people he saw, the less things started to make sense.

It started small, humans wearing what could only be described as medieval types of armour, with spears, chain mail, shields, etc. Then it he saw horses pulling carriages, actual living horses, not robots, not cars, no trucks, nothing. As if that wasn't weird enough, he also saw humans with animal body parts, such as ears and even bloody tails! And last, but not least were the reactions of those who noticed him. As soon as he got close to one of the farms located at the outskirts of the city, a group of ten men approached him, all looking at him with suspicion and wary, their weapons drawn.

"Whoa, easy there, partner. I ain't looking for trouble," Courier exclaimed, as he raised both of his hands, proving that he wasn't armed.

"You, who or maybe what are you, identify yourself," The soldier barked, while the Courier raised his eyebrow at the language.

"Don't suppose you speak English? Or Spanish? Or Chinese or even Japanese?" The Courier tried with multiple language, only to receive confused glances between guards. "Figured as much…"

Okay, this was just straight out bizarre at this point. It made zero sense to wear medieval type of armour, when kevlar and gunpowder existed, although Caesar's Legion would disagree. And that was barely a drop in the barrel of what his past experience told him. One thing he immediately decided to confirm was the threat level of the guards in front of him, only to be immediately disappointed. They were about as tough as a bunch of starved convicts, their armour worse even than the metal ones from the Mojave.

He also used the moment of distraction of guards, to take a closer look at one of the people with animal features. His attention fell onto a girl with long brown hair, green eyes, a pair small horns, cow ears and even cow tail sticking out from her back. Normally, he would chalk it up to a mutation of sorts, but the features of humans and animals blended perfectly into a cohesive form. This wasn't a result of Forced Evolutionary Virus, it looked too natural, too deliberate.

For example, centaurs existed, but these things had two heads, one of a human, the other of dog, a bunch of tentacles and six pairs of arm/leg-like limbs, which it used to move around. A grotesque and disgusting creature, unlike the girl in front of him. Was she also experimented on, like he was? Maybe something similar to that splicing machine back at the Big Mountain? He couldn't tell for certain.

The fact that horses looked completely normal, untouched by radiation and were used to pull carriages and such only added to his confusion. If the people living in this area, could raise massive towers the size of Lucky 38, why weren't they using any vehicles powered by fusion technology? Then again, fusion technology was a rather recent technology, which only became available shortly to pre-war era. He could have found himself in an area that has depleted most of it's natural resources such as coal, oil, etc. and forced people to adapt, it wouldn't be too far fetched if he was perfectly honest.

Letting out a sigh, the Courier considered his options. He was looking for a place to trade, to gather some supplies and figure where the hell was he, not another bloodbath. The guards obviously could not understand him and he wouldn't let himself be arrested and taken into jail for simply walking down the road! He hasn't even drawn any of his weapons, unlike the guards! Talk about rude…

However, it seemed like a newcomer decided to join the fray, as she walked up to them, followed by another squadron of guards. She was a beautiful mature woman with a long wavy golden honey coloured hair and orange eyes, her well endowed figure further adding to her charm. Her attire consisted of a long, light pink dress and gold belt around her weist.

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes, lady," Courier said out loud, knowing he couldn't be understood.

"Why, thank you. You're quite the charmer, aren't you?" She responded, only for the Courier's jaw get loose, as he perfectly understood the woman.

"Finally! Somebody, who can speak English!" He exclaimed, a grin forming on his face, as he bowed down, showing the best side of his. "Forgive me my bad manners, I meant nothing unsavoury. Courier Six, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss…?"

"Demeter," The woman replied with a warm, motherly smile that seemed to light up the space around her. "Leader of the Demeter Familia. It's rare to meet someone so polite and well mannered. You certainly know how to make a first impression."

"A fitting name for a beautiful woman such as yourself, if I do say so myself," He said without skipping a beat.

Name aside, the woman didn't seem much like a goddess. She was not a threat according to VATS and he would not question someone on their birth name. Hell, he meet plenty of people with unusual names even back in the Mojave, now that he thought of it. Common courtesy still remained, even if he was no lady killer by nature.

Demeter chuckled, a soft melodic sounds that made it clear, she was genuinely amused. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Mister Six."

"What can I say, it doesn't hurt to try, no?" He countered, his expression hidden by the helmet.

"I suppose so," She replied with a motherly smile.

When she heard from one of her Familia members that there was a monster on the lose nearby one of the farms, she got worried and immediately decided to investigate. What she found though was far more interesting than any monster in the Dungeon. The man, at least she was fairly certain of that, was unlike any adventurer or a soldier she had ever seen in her entire godly life.

First was his appearance, most notably the armour he was wearing. It looked completely different from the designs of either of smith Familias in Orario such as Hephasteus or Goibniu. It had a very menacing design, covered every inch of the body and looked durable enough to easily withstand strikes from weaker monsters. However, what set it apart from other armours was the design itself, seemingly alien in appearance or at least very foreign, which is what caught her attention first and foremost.

Next was the general stance, tone of voice and manners of the man in front of her. He was obviously experienced when it came to fighting, while he seemed relaxed, she noticed both of his hands were close to weapons he carried on the both sides of his hip, ready to be drawn. He had a way with words, either the result of natural charisma or plenty of experience, possibly both. What caught her attention was the words he spoke and the lies he told her. She was pretty sure, if other gods were to hear about such an interesting individual, it would be like throwing a piece of fresh meat into a den of hungry wolves. And, she would be a fool to pass an opportunity like that. After all, humans and other mortal races were far more interesting than the Heaven itself, which lacked conflict, sources of excitement, allowing her and other other gods to live perfect and perfectly boring lives.

"So, Mister Six, what brings you to the city of Orario?" Demeter asked.

"You could say I got lost during my travels and I am looking for a way home. Don't suppose you could direct me to a nearby shop, which sells maps and other supplies, Miss Demeter?" He asked.

"I see and how do you intend to do that, considering I am the only one that speaks your language, Mister Six?" She pointed out, while the Courier raised his finger, stopped, bit his lip and crossed his arms.

"That's… a valid point, I have to admit. That does throw a wrench into my plan," He agreed with the woman, his eyes narrowed. "I will skip straight to the point, what are you offering?"

"A mutually beneficial agreement for both sides, would you be interested?" She asked, while the Courier hummed for a brief moment, before nodding.

"Not one to mince words, eh? I can respect that. Sure, I can hear you out at the very least, though, I reserve the right to walk out, if it turns out to be an ambush or the offer's crap, deal?" He asked and extended his hand towards the woman.

"I believe I can work with that," She said and returned the handshake with a smile.

"Lady Demeter, what should we do about this… thing?" One of the guards said, while the goddess chuckled, before turning towards him.

"He is no thing, he is a human, I am quite certain of that," She pointed out with a smile. "As for our guests, he will be following us for the moment, please stay your weapons."

"As you wish, goddess," The guard said, as the rest of the squad lowered their weapons.

"May I invite you for a cup of tea, Mister Six? It's the least I can do, considering the circumstances?" She asked, while the Courier nodded.

"Fine by me, lead the way, Miss Demeter," Courier said, while the woman nodded, spoke a few words to the guards, before gesturing him to follow her, as the group passed by the farms themselves.

"Mister Six…" Demeter began

"Just call me Six, or Courier, either works really. Mr Six is too much, even for me," He said.

"If you say so, Six. You may have already noticed, but your attire brings quite a lot of attention, no?" She pointed out.

"Yeah, I noticed that. I was wondering why? I get that it looks scary, but even then it seemed like nobody has ever seen or heard about a black ranger armour or it's variants," He agreed.

"Black Ranger Armour? Is that what your armour is called?" She asked, while Six shook his head.

"Nope, it's called Elite Riot Gear, a variant of the one I mentioned. Anyway, why does everyone keep staring at it anyway?" He asked.

"You could say that armours like yours are unheard of in the city of Orario. I myself haven't seen similar armour to the one you are wearing all these years," She replied.

"So that's why… but, something tells me that this is not good news for me, is it?" He noticed.

"Good observation, put simply, if you were to walk into the city dressed the way you are, everyone and every Familia would immediately know of you in matter of hours, maybe days," She replied. "In a way, people from all the city, especially those with Familia would love to learn more about you, whether you like it or not, especially those seeking excitement and intrigue. You could say, it would be like throwing a chunk of fresh meat into a den of starved wolves, you being the meat itself."

"Paparazzi… of course, they would be here as well," He complained. "So, what you are saying, if I want a modicum of peace, I need to swap my attire into something more inauspicious?"

"That's precisely it. You are free to ignore me advice, but I have got good reasons to believe that you would be harassed by a number of Familias and other factions," She explained.

It took a minute or two, before they found themselves in a rather simple, if elegant one story house. It had wooden wails, windows with intact glass in it, tiled red roof and a set of doors leading inside. The Courier watched, as the woman opened the door, the guards standing guard, before gesturing him to follow her. Seeing no other option, the Courier did as expected, following the woman, until they found themselves in a modest bedroom, featuring a cupboard, a small table with chair and a bed. One of the guards in the meantime brought a kettle with tea and two teacups, before leaving them alone in the room.

"So, Six, have you ever heard of Falna?" Demeter began, as she turned towards him, the door leading to the room locked behind the duo.

"Never heard of it, why?" He replied, while Demeter giggled on the inside. Being a god or a goddess had it's perks, namely being able to tell whenever one of the mortals was lying right into her face. And she could tell, the man did not lie on this, he truly didn't know what a Falna was.

"Call it curiosity and leave it at that," She replied with a smile, while Courier's eyes narrowed behind the helmet.

"Okay, I am sure there is more to it, but I will let it slide for now, what about that deal you mentioned?" He asked.

"Mister Six, I would like to invite you join my Familia, Demeter Familia to be exact," She said seriously.

"And if I were to join the 'Familia', what would be the 'benefits' of that?" Courier asked.

"First of all, you would be able to work with members of my Familia together, allowing you to become stronger more easily, as well reach deeper into the Dungeon than you could on your own. Secondly, each Familia cares about their members, providing information, support and resources, which would be extended to you, should you join. On top of that, joining a reputable Familia, such as mine, would make it easier to make valuable connections, as well as provide a reputation for you to stand on. What do you say?" She asked, aiming for more practical approach than 'love' and 'friendship', which worked on young and naive, but not old and experienced.

"Hmm… sounds appealing on the first glance, but I know, that's just a PR talk to get me interested. Tell you what, how about you show me the maps of the area first, before I decide," Courier Six said.

"That's fine, give me just a moment to fetch the maps themselves," She replied and left the room for a moment.

"Well, this is starting to get weird," The Courier muttered to himself.

He wasn't sure what to expect from this woman, but so far, it didn't seem like she had led him into a trap. Though, he must have ended really far away from the Mojave, if English was so uncommon in this part of the world. Still, he had very few other options, except for heading towards the city, while nobody could understand him, making him wait patiently instead.

"Here is the map of the area, as well as the continents, as promised," Demeter said, as she put the map on the table between them.

"Thank you kindly, Miss Demeter," Courier said, as he began searching for the Mojave or America in general. "Hmm… can you give me a moment to get through those? It won't take long I promise."

"Of course, I will leave you to it, once you are done, please let me know," She said.

"Of course, wouldn't do otherwise," He replied with a nod, while Demeter smiled and left the room once again. "Now, let's see, where the hell am I?"

He opened the maps, fully expecting to see a continent of Asia, maybe Europe being drawn in front of him, instead he found himself staring at a map, that made no sense what so ever. First of all, the placement of the continents was all wrong, their general shape and number way too different from even the most rudimentary globules.

"Don't tell me she gave me some fake maps?" The Courier whispered, only to pause. "… did she?"

Demeter could have given him fake maps of course, but what would be the benefit of that? He knew the general shape of the world and could tell at a glance that these maps had nothing to do with the layout of continents on Earth. This lead to either two options, either the woman deceived him on purpose or… he was way further away from the Mojave than he initially realized.

"Lack of satellite coverage, maps of the world I do not recognize, people with animal features, lack of wrecks, ruined buildings, pockets of radiation and even asphalt roads…," The Courier recounted the differences between the Mojave, making sure he wasn't heard by the woman. "Am I… not on Earth anymore? No… that can't… be, right?"

Normally, he wouldn't even consider that possibility, not even with transportalponder malfunction, but the things he had seen and heard thus far put a big question mark about that thesis. If teleporter send him to a different part of the world, he should have seen remnants of civilization, modern firearms, energy weapons, etc. It could have also sent him into the future, where humanity regressed to medieval times or… to a different planet, maybe even dimension.

"Different dimension, yeah, right, not even Think Tank could do… that, right?" The Courier paused, not so sure anymore.

Think Tank was a group of some of the brightest minds of the twenty-first century, who spent almost two hundred years trapped in a loop of Doctor Mobius. That loop kept the barely sane brains, from unleashing all of their madness upon the Mojave, some of which included creation of Nightstalker, Cazadaros, Sierra Madre Holograms, the Cloud and the like. They created teleportation technology, something which he considered impossible previously, so would it be too far fetched of them to make a portal to alternate dimension or a time machine for all he knew?

"… I am not Earth, am I?" He realized. "… Fuck."

Okay, this was bad, real bad, for more than a few reasons. First of all, the Mojave was without a leader and the deadliest son of a bitch in the Mojave. If the NCR or the Legion found out about him missing, they could use that opportunity to lunch an attack. Sure, Yes-Man had enough securitrons and holograms to defend the Mojave, but that didn't mean it was foolproof protection.

And last but not least, how the hell was he supposed to get back home? This is was probably the biggest issue he was currently facing. With the transportalponder gone, he basically was stranded here, until he rebuilt one or the Think Tank and Yes-Man saved him. Rebuilding the transportalponder would take a lot of time and even then, there was no guarantee it would work. On the other other hand, he was sure Yes-Man would soon notice his absence and contact the Think Tank, but how long would it take to bring him back was anyone's guess.

"Bloody hell…," He whispered to himself.

There was no denying it, he was stuck here, on a different world, on a different planet, maybe even in alternate dimension. He took a deep breath, clenched his fists, before letting it out. A part of him wanted to freak out a little bit, but honestly? He wasn't even surprised at this point, the world seemed to loved messing with him. And besides, he was Courier Six, the deadliest man in the Mojave Wasteland. He survived it all, he would do it too.

Still, how was he supposed to proceed from now on? As it was, he was quite literally an alien on a whole another world, if slightly less green. However, he wasn't dealing with different race or species, except for that cow-girl maybe, he was dealing with humans. These humans seemed to be almost exact the same as the ones from his world, if fair bit weaker. How did humans evolve on this world, while potentially coexisting with other species was mystery to him, one that was better left unanswered for the time being.

"So… that's why Demeter recommended switching my attire," He whispered.

It all made sense now, why would she suggest such a thing. If he were to show off things like guns, laser weapons, power armour… which he did now that he thought of it… it could end horribly for him or for them. Say, he joined Demeter's Familia or whatever it was, he could introduce all the plants from the Mojave, stimpacks, healing poultices, bitter rings, etc.

Then, could come guns, ammo, energy weapons and suddenly, he could end up like Edward Sallow or Caesar to his enemies, a dictator with a slave empire to boot… Okay, he was not as bad, as he forbade slavery under the threat of death, but he still ruled a nation and was often seen as similar to the mighty Caesar, despite the massive differences in the way they ruled.

It wouldn't be too hard to take over the world either, he had plenty of time, all the know how, patience and will to work for that. Trouble was, he HATED the idea of running yet another nation, especially one in a whole different world. Back at the Second Battle for Hover Dam, he carved out independent New Vegas from the clutches of NCR, Legion and even Mister House, claiming the nation for himself. He was already married to his job back in the Mojave, he didn't need another one here.

That left with three choices. Option number one, go nuts, take over the world and probably cause a war or two in the process. Option number two, hide as far as he could from the rest of the world and wait for the Think Tank to rescue him. And last but not least, option number three, just have fun and don't go overboard. That last option was actually the one he was leaning into thus far.

He was already getting tired of being relegated to a desk jockey, due to Yes-Man taking over most of his jobs and a brand new world seemed like a such a nice change of pace, he had to admit. Still, he had to be careful, going around and shooting stuff would get him immediately noticed and bring a ton of attention to him, as Demeter explained.

He was already used to being a centre of attention, due to his position, but that was on his own planet, where people used guns and he came across as incredibly dangerous individual, but not an alien from a different world! Who knew what would happen, if he simply told everyone he was an alien? He definitely wasn't keen on being cut open and experimented on or maybe burnt on a pile for being a 'witch'.

It also brought another problem, his supplies were limited. Sure, he had enough weapons, armours, guns, combat drugs to supply a small army, but they were not unlimited. And he couldn't exactly manufacture them on his own, with some small exceptions. He needed to be careful, when using them, as unless he found himself a reliable way to replenish bullets at the very least, it was better to stick to close combat only.

That left only Demeter to deal with. She was… an unknown. On one hand, she was the only one who spoke English somehow. How? He had no idea and frankly put, he didn't care at this point. On the other hand, she had already helped him out and he couldn't deny that he had no means of communicating with anyone bar her, as far as he knew.

As much as it pained him to admit it, he needed help on this one. He needed to learn how to speak and read, if he wanted to accomplish anything. He also wouldn't mind doing some quests or earning some money, if he was going to stay here for an extended period of time. And while he wasn't sure, if he was top of the world, he was definitely stronger than the guards, who were with Demeter at the time. Overall, his position wasn't nearly as bad as he expected to be. Though, just in case, he was going to be extra careful from now on, when dealing with the locals.

"Okay, let's see, is there any armour I can use that looks sort of medieval?" Courier muttered to himself, as he began browsing through his inventory. "There it is."

The first item was known as Armour of the 87th Tribe, based on the design of Legate Lanius. It resembled a plate armour mixed with Roman design with a matching helmet to boot. Said helmet covered his entire face, making him look like the aforementioned Legate. He also decided to switch out his trusty knife and sidearm for massive oversized blade known as the Blade of the West, carried by Marked Men from the Divide. It was basically a variant of a Bumper Sword, which was a sword made from a bumper of car, but slightly less crude, thus the name. Satisfied, he made sure his new attire was well fitting, before nodding in satisfaction. He also put a small backpack on his back, as a decoy of sorts.

"Miss Demeter, I am finished, you can come inside," He called out.

"Coming," She said, as she opened the door with a smile, only to pause, her eyes spread wide open, as she blinked in confusion at the sight in front of her. "Is that you, Mister Six?"

"Yep, that's me alright, how do I look?" He asked, his attention focused on the woman.

"Quite fetching, if I do say so myself. You look like a proper adventurer, a first-class one on top of that," She admitted, as she took in the armour itself. It perhaps was not as beautiful and sophisticated as the ones made by Hephaestus in Heaven, but it looked solid and very durable. "Though, I have to ask, where did you get this armour? I don't recall you carrying a backpack or something similar."

"Very, very deep pockets, leaving that aside, you mentioned adventurers, Miss Demeter. Would it be correct of me to assume that it is someone, who risks their life by going on adventures across the world, slaying monsters and getting paid in the process?" He asked.

"That's partially correct, but for the most part, it refers to people and other races, who venture deep into the depths of the Dungeon in the city of Orario, where they fight monsters and bring back valuable materials," She replied. "I am assuming you have heard of them both, didn't you?"

"Definitely, where I come from, it's all the rage nowadays," He lied without skipping a beat, as the last thing he needed was being exposed as alien, something Demeter immediately noticed. "By the way, what other races are in the area? I have met a few others myself, but nothing like some of the locals I have seen thus far."

"Let's see, there are different types of Demi Humans, such as cat people or werewolves. There also Spirits, Elves, Dwarves, Amazoness and of course, humans, who are the most numerous in the city overall," She explained with a smile. "I am assuming you met at least some of them yourself, no?"

"Definitely met some of the ones you mentioned," He lied once again, unaware of the fact that his lies were being seen through easily by the goddess, who was getting giddy from a simple exchange. "Anyway, about the deal you mentioned… I have to decline joining your Familia for the time. As tempting as it is, I work better alone."

"I understand that, but… would you be interested in a different offer then?" She asked, a bit nervous.

"Go on…," The Courier asked.

"It would be rather simple. I can provide you with a place to stay, work with regular salary and meals, as well as language lessons with me. In exchange you are not allowed to join any other Familia, except mine. If you do, our agreement is voided and you will lose the aforementioned benefits," She explained.

"I think I can make it work, but with two small conditions," He replied.

"What would that be, Six?" She asked.

"First of all, all that we have talked about and will talk during our lessons stays between us. And even though I won't join any Familia, at least for the time being, I wish to be able to take jobs for them," He said, while Demeter giggled in response.

"Of course, I wouldn't have it otherwise, besides, it would be detrimental to both of us, if I were to 'spill the beans'. Broken trust is not easily mended, no?" She pointed out, while the Courier hummed.

"Preaching to the choir, Miss Demeter. Now then," He said as he extended his hand towards the woman. "Do we have a deal?"

"Yes, we do," She replied and returned the handshake, already getting excited on the sheer amount of things she could learn from the man in front of him.

And she even managed to beat Freya to him, which meant she had an upper hand, when it came to dealing with her or any other gods. All she had to do right now, play her cards right and she potentially could have him join her Familia in the future or at the very least set up a good relationship between them, which she could use leverage, should the need arise.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Miss Demeter. So, what happens now?" Courier asked.

"Now we will be heading to the city itself, I will act as your guide and allow for your entrance into the city itself, where the home of my Familia resides. There we will start our lessons," She replied.

"Sounds good to me, lead the way, Miss Demeter," He replied, as he opened the door, allowing the woman to pass first. He was no gentleman, but it didn't hurt, mostly, and hopefully would earn him some points in the woman's graces.

"With pleasure," She replied, as she passed through the door, the Courier following closely behind her.

So, you may be wondering, am I alive, have I really returned and brought new chapters along? It's... complicated.

See, I was doing a bit of clean up, as I wanted to at least post my old rework here and swap out the chapters, but... I read it and it was horrible. I think I cut myself on my own edge. So, I wrote a chapter and then this one. Now, for why I stopped writing this one? Danmachi... just made me want to quit. Some revelations and later chapters really annoyed me with Bell who is the best hero to ever hero of all heroes. I basically dropped the franchise and forgot about it.

Unfortunately, Fan Fiction registered me deleting chapters as a new update and then I noticed that people still remember about this mess of a fiction I first wrote. It actually surprised me, in a good way. So, I will post some new chapters, I won't promise regular updates, but I do have got some free time and can use that. Hope you enjoyed the rework thus far.