"Come on Weiss, it will be fun," Ruby argued as she and her team walked the streets of Vale.

"How is weapon shopping fun?" Weiss countered.

"It gets us out of the classroom, plus a chance to see a certain pair of businesses," Ruby replied with an honest smile.

"You remember how The Storyteller described them; a humanitarian organization with lots of resources and the most skilled weapon merchants on the West Coast," Blake said.

"I wonder how their buckshot would fit into Ember Celica?" Yang followed suit.

"Are they even open yet? They couldn't have been in Vale for more than a week." Weiss argued.

"Look!" Ruby shouted, raising her finger towards a pair of shops, one with the name Gun Runners resting overhead while the other bore the cross of the Followers of the Apocalypse. "They're right next to one another," Ruby said.

"And both are open," Blake commented.

Weiss sighed in defeat before looking over the Gun Runner's shop and the Followers' base. There was a large crowd around the Followers' base, many sporting injuries or some forms of sickness. Gazing over to the Gun Runners, there wasn't a crowd, just one person standing next to a kiosk. Some sort of bulky machine sat within said kiosk, slowly turning from side to side with a glow from the top of its head. "What in the brother's name is that hunk of junk?" she muttered while staring at the machine in the kiosk.

"Who knows, let's check them out," Ruby said, grabbing Weiss' arm and dragging her to the Gun Runners. Yang and Blake trailed behind them, even as Blake gave a second glance at the Followers' base. The man next to the kiosk gave them a stern glance as they approached, before leaning back. "Hi, are you the seller?" Ruby asked the machine in the kiosk.

"Welcome Sir or Madam, would you like the browse our inventory?" The Vendatron inquired.

"Yes, what do you have for sale?" Ruby asked.

"We have a wide variety of firearms and ammunition for purchase should you have the currency." The Vendatron said.

Ruby's eyes lit up as she watched the small list of weapons and ammo light up on a nearby screen, only for her jaw to drop as she saw the prices.


Six walked through the halls of the NCR legislative building, his pace hurried as many gave him a wide berth. He only stopped as he came to his destination, the door to Redhawk's office. He opened the door with little issue, causing Redhawk to jump in his seat as Six entered.

Jeremy stared him down as Six closed the door behind him, letting out a thick puff from his cigarette before he stood up. "what is it Six?" he asked in a tired tone.

"We've got a problem, a certain someone is currently running free on the net." Six said with concern. Stepping closer as Redhawk's eyes widened in surprise.

"House?" Redhawk spoke in a whisper. Six just nodded, Redhawk ran a hand over his face in response. "Can you track him?" Redhawk asked.

"We're working on it, the whole reason I'm here in person is to avoid him finding out if he is listening." Six replied.

"Can he?" Redhawk asked.

"We don't know, all we do know is that he's out." Six answered.

"Great... Just great." Redhawk muttered as he ran a hand through his hair, spreading ash over the desk. "Do you think he ever suspected our deal?" Redhawk inquired.

"I doubt it, all he knows is that I stole Vegas from him before I went to visit California." Six said.

"Let's hope he doesn't." Redhawk mused.

"Don't worry, I do have a plan to deal with him, maybe even get him on our side." Six said.

"Why would he join your side?" Redhawk inquired with a raised brow.

"I've done a lot with the STN, made a lot of advancements, and many deals with the rest of the Wasteland." Six answered.

"You think he'd even listen?" Redhawk inquired.

"We'll have to see, but there are plans in place." Six said, now leaning against the wall near the door.

"I hope so, for both our sakes," Redhawk said, putting out his cigarette while staring down Six.

Six nodded before one of the radios on his belt went off. Wordlessly, he retrieved the radio from the belt and held it to his ear. "I understand, keep at it," Six said before turning off the radio. He put it back on his belt and let out a deep sigh. "I have to go, just be careful Jeremy." Six said as he turned back to the door.

"Same to you, and remember to call me Abraham while we have guests," Redhawk said. Six just nodded as he stepped out of the room.


Lucius huffed, the sharp aching of his leg brace surging with each step he took. The night sky of Pheonix only gave a small respite from the eternal aching in his body. The faint lights of the stars held in contrast to the bright lights scattered across the city and the lone airship flying overhead.

"Long night?" a voice cut in. Lucius turned, a short scowl etched on his face as he turned to see Joshua Graham approaching.

"What do you want Ghost?" Lucius inquired. It was always a challenge to know his exact stand on the man; on one hand, he respected him for his actions as both the Malpaius Legate and the Burned Man, on the other, the stress caused by Graham's existence is one of the Legion's many follies.

"Just taking a stroll, enjoying the slow rise of greenery in what was once a barren desert," Joshua said.

Ah yes, the growth, a gift given by the Six to Populi Regis. A tool from the Pre-War, an investment, and a deal made between Vegas and the Legio Unum. He would never say it, not to a single soul, but he enjoyed their presence. The taste of food not pillaged, but grown, the hard work put in by farmers and ranchers that he had never seen in the days of the Legion.

A gift that allowed prosperity.

"It is a pleasant thing to see." was all he said to Graham.

"Indeed, have you heard the reports from the Tongues?" Graham inquired. Lucius narrowed his eyes, turning to look Graham directly in the eye.

"I have heard much of it, the words from the Tongue painted quite the picture of our new world," Lucius said, his eyes briefly glancing at the broken moon in the sky.

"From the strength of the soul made manifest, to the elite warriors who would walk amongst them, they bring many interesting stories," Joshua spoke calmly.

"What are getting at Ghost? Do you seek the eminence of your soul?" Lucius demanded in a quiet tone.

"None of such things, just musing what such manifestation can mean for each individual who had been granted such power," Graham answered.

Lucius said nothing, quickly musing what such manifestations could mean for each person. "Do you consider such acts blasphemy?" He inquired, his mind flashing back to the many preachers who stood amongst The Legio Unum's streets, the flock Graham and his followers brought.

"That is yet to be seen, would the act of allowing one's soul to shine in acts of defense and power taint it?" Graham said.

"Do you wonder what such strength would do for us?" Lucius asked.

"A good question, one that can not be answered in such a short time," Graham said. "It has been a good talk, Lucius, one that I hope we can continue later," Graham said before he walked past him.

"At a later date." Lucius echoed, taking another glance at the broken moon in the night sky.


Hazel huffed, carrying the massive trunk over his shoulder, as he and Tyrion tracked their way through the camp of the Legion. Just ahead of them, a scarred legionnaire led them past the watching eyes of his fellow soldiers. Hazel's eyes wandered from side to side, taking in the sights of the camp around him. He could see slaves in collars, hauling bags far too large for their bodies. The few Legionnaires that weren't busy sharpening weapons or training in formations all stared at them, whispers echoed amongst the crowds. They continued forward until the scarred legionnaire stopped just in front of a large tent. Two legionnaires with different armor approached, speaking to their guide in hushed tones. The two guards(?) turned to them, their eyes lingering on Tyrion far longer than on him. The two guards then nodded, turning back to the tent and opening the flaps. Their guide turned to them; "Ceasar will see you now, he shall see what you have to say." he said before walking to the side of the tent.

Hazel stepped forward, Tyrion snickering as they both entered the tent. On both sides of the tent stood guards, dressed in better armor than the legionnaires of the camp, at the center of the tent stood a beast of a man in iron armor. "I hear you bear a message for my ears, a gift to the Legion granted by a powerful goddess." The Tall man spoke up, turning to show them his metal mask. He stood tall, rivaling even Hazel's height, with a massive blade across his back. Then Ceasar's gaze turned to Tyrion; "Such a man, bearing the weapon of a beast," he commented, his eyes narrowed at Tyrion.

"The Goddess' gifts are not such things, but something far greater," Tyrion said as Hazel let the trunk fall to the ground. With a careful hand, Hazel unlocked the trunk, black tendrils snaked out as the lid flung open. Many Legionnaires jumped back, some even drew their weapons, yet Ceasar stood stoic. "You shall meet my Goddess, and know her power," Tyrion said as the Sier Grimm floated out.

Then Salem appeared, her dark visage now clear and growing from the Sier's clear dome.

"You..." She trailed before her eyes locked onto Ceasar. "You are the one known as Ceasar, Feared Ruler of the Legion." She stated, her face growing closer to Ceasar.

"Yes, you are the Dark Goddess whom the Beastman preaches of," Ceasar spoke calmly.

"Tyrion is a loyal agent, his reverence is a mere side effect of his work," Salem spoke with a commanding tone.

"They spoke of a gift, one which would be granted to The Legion to aid in her conquests? One of my Scouts returns from his investigation with two travelers, such a thing is rather suspicious even with yourself." Ceasar spoke firmly.

Tyrion was about to shout, his tail and weapons raised before Salem raised her hand. "Such suspicions are understandable, let us allow a demonstration," Salem said before turning to Hazel. "Strike." She instructed. Like a dam had been broken, Hazel felt a blade strike against his arm, gasps of shock echoed throughout the tent as his aura protected him from the blade. "See, no armor yet not a single wound," Salem said as many of the guards backed away.

"Such a strange gift, what is it?" Ceasar asked, his gaze narrowed at Hazel and Tyrion.

"It is one's soul, manifested as a tool for battle," Salem stated.

Murmurs broke out amongst the tent, the guards' eyes all narrowed as they looked at them. Ceasar approached, now standing face-to-face with Hazel. Hazel looked into the bloodied eyes and the red scars peeking through the iron mask. "We shall see, how is such a gift granted?" Ceasar inquired.

"All it requires is one who already possesses the gift and an understanding of it," Salem spoke while looming over the two's shoulders. "Hazel, grant it," Salem instructed with a strong tone. Hazel did so, putting a hand on Ceasar's shoulder and allowing his aura to flow through Ceasar's self. The tent glowed, the light of aura bathed the two men before it faded out. Ceasar stepped back, clenching his fists before he turned to one of his guards.

"Strike," he instructed, echoing Slaem's earlier command. One of his guards swung their powerfist, striking Ceasar's chest. Aura flared out, Ceasar didn't even flinch as the power weapon struck his chest. Silence reigned through the tent, the guards turned to Hazel and Tyrion as the murmurs grew stronger. Ceasar said nothing, only putting a hand on the guard's shoulder and letting his aura flare out. Hazel watched as the glow of aura bathed the guard, a sick feeling began to settle in his gut.

Without a single word said, the guard walked to his closest fellow and began unlocking their aura much like had been done before.

"Be cautious, to unlock the soul for so many so quickly can leave one drained," Salem warned.

"I see," Ceasar spoke in response. He turned to the guards, still busy unlocking the aura of their fellow legionnaires. "Once every man in this tent has it unlocked, I want you to spend the night thinking about who your best men are, unlock theirs in the morning," Ceasar instructed. The guards nodded, the glow of aura fading from the tent as they all stood firm. "Send that instruction to them, have them understand the importance of it, we will make a move once every soldier under our flag has their soul unlocked," Ceasar instructed sternly.

"Yes, Ceasar." The guards all spoke as one.

Hazel felt a chill up his spine, already seeing what the Legion has done to those they have defeated.

Ceasar turned to Salem; "What is your name, dark Goddess?" he asked.

"I am known as Salem, Ceasar," Salem said calmly. Ceasar turned to the guards, all of them began to kneel in front of her visage.

"Hail, our Dark Goddess Salem." The guards spoke as one, their voices booming through the tent and out into the camp.

"What is it you desire, Salem?" Ceasar inquired.

"For you to complete your conquest; to rebuild the shattered remains of your Legion, bulldoze through the Legio Unum and Vegas, then bleed the Bear dry," Salem spoke with a dangerous look in her eyes.

"What of their allies to the East, the Brotherhood would not hesitate to allow them passage should our conquest begin?" Ceasar inquired.

"Then build your Legion up, have men armed and ready to defend your eastern border. Turn your Eastern border into an impossible line of death traps and armed soldiers." Salem spoke calmly.

Ceasar stood still, before turning to his guards. "A most straightforward instruction, one not done easily," Ceasar said. His gaze ran over his guard; "Any Formation I name is to be prioritized over those not named." he instructed. "Send word to the Centurions; have the First, Third, and Eighth formations sent north to conquer the tribes and scattered Remnants of the old Legion," Ceasar instructed. "Have the Second, Fifth, and Seventh formations sent south to do the same." He said. His guards all nodded, many stepping out of the tent to relay Ceasar's command to the rest of the camp.

Hazel just watched this all with a clenched fist, the cold feeling running through his spine growing stronger.