A/N: To whom it may concern, we have returned with yet another riveting part of a tale only one as deranged as a fanfiction writer could come up with. I like to think that fight scene was both fun and important. And it wasn't just for Damon, either. It was a major event for everyone involved. Yes, we're riding with Damon for it. That doesn't mean the other characters aren't part of the fun. That being said... it's the first time Damon has had the chance to let a lot of built-up frustration out. His methods of stress-relief just tend to... not be all that healthy. Nate's state of mind is an important thing to consider here too considering- well, I'm not gonna say. Aaaaanyway, leave a review if you're so inclined, the feedback is always appreciated, and as always, enjoy!

Chapter 84: The Man In Charge

Meeting with the Raider leadership…

They took their security seriously. Between the heavy ground fortifications and the anti-aircraft emplacements outside, it would be hard to fight into their motor pool turned command center.

Conventional wisdom would be to drop ordinance from altitude. Besides reinforcing the roof with more concrete, steel, and I-beams to support it, their leaders weren't even in the motor pool's main area. That was dedicated to more defense and living quarters for, I'd guess, their best people and guards.

Unlike most of the drug-addicted amateurs I've encountered to this point, these guys looked like they meant it. Between the standard kit with plate carriers and tac-vests over reasonably well-kept clothes that looked broadly reminiscent of what this place probably considered modern infantry, the well-laid out fortifications, orderly bunks and mess hall, and the people themselves who looked much healthier and in much better condition than the others, it felt like we'd stepped into a different world.

The first question that crossed my mind was: why isn't this standard?

It only took me a split-second to answer that one. They were pulling together a bunch of Raiders from disparate groups. Not like loose groups of bandits are known for their organization and command structure.

But they were trying. That's why we've had to deal with improved strategies and tactics.

The stares I got from the surrounding Raiders as our guards led us through their living quarters weren't the same brand of near-manic excitement and hatred. These were quiet, intense glares that looked more angry than anything else.

There has to be some in between. Unless these are the guys the leadership brought with them and everyone else was adopted.

As we walked, I stole another glance at my companions. Nate was doing a good job of controlling his anxiety but he wasn't entirely successful. His jaw was clenched shut and his fists were balled so tight the tendons in his forearms stood out against his tanned skin.

It was good that he wasn't showing them just how much the fighting had affected him. Then again… shoving down what he is isn't healthy, I would know. He'd need some time, both to recover enough for whatever we're in for, and to… what was the word? Decompress? Decompress afterward.

As for the others… they weren't doing much better. The come down off their adrenaline high wasn't doing them any favors.

And there was something along with the exhaustion that looked familiar. I know it, the distant, distracted expressions, the way their eyes ran across our surroundings without taking anything in… I've seen it recently. Was it-

"Now!" Castle exclaimed as she came to a stop in front of a large interior door. She turned to us with her arms out to her sides. She was enjoying this.

My eyes narrowed. This was what she wanted to happen then.

"I'm sure you all would like to meet our venerable leaders. Unfortunately, they're only interested in the two of you." Castle jabbed a finger at Nate and me. "The rest of you will stay here and keep the law fine folks company." Her smile vanished in an instant and the Raider's arms fell to her sides. Her eyes were locked on my visor. "This is not up for discussion."

Dammit… I glanced at the four settlers. Their gazes were still distant but a newfound fear pulled them wide.

Meeting her eyes, the unsettling smile that was a fixture on her face most of my time here still hadn't returned.

"Don't bother", she said.

The door behind her swung open and three more Raiders stepped out. They, like the others here, were dressed in what looked like real gear. Each of them was carrying one of their large-caliber rifles, these ones well-maintained. She wasn't giving me any time.

Almost as soon as the Raiders emerged, Castle turned and marched through the door.

"Get moving", one of the newcomers said, motioning toward the door with his rifle. The other two had theirs held at the low-ready, aimed in my general direction.

Now isn't the time. As much as it might suck.

With a grunt that was more to myself than this asshole, I started forward. Nate did the same.

As we passed through the door along with a dozen guards, I could feel the rest of our team watching us leave.

No. We weren't leaving them. But they were exhausted and clearly dealing with something. They'd be on their own in the middle of a stronghold. More of a stronghold than the rest of this place is. These Raiders aren't the same type we're used to dealing with. Even if this group only represents 10% of their strength, they're far more of a threat than the rest.

Three sets of marching footsteps followed behind us and the door slammed shut. Where, before, there had been the distant sounds of activity outside the walls and some in the building, now it was silent. Our steps echoed in the wide, concrete hallway and I could hear the gentle sounds of breathing. That was all though.

This is a threat I need to figure out a plan to deal with. I don't think we'll have the resources or time to eliminate it and escape. Not in the middle of the base and not with the personnel available.

Deacon. And he needs to get word back to Dez. Maybe Danse will be some help. I glance at Nate. He was staring straight ahead. Something had changed; his eyes were fixed on Castle's back now.

At the end of the short hallway was a steel door that led to a service staircase.

The Raider led us down, into the motor pool's basement.

So not only was the overhead structure reinforced, but their leadership was staying in a basement beneath it. There had to be a total of at least three meters of concrete over our heads. Unless the Brotherhood had bunker busters, nothing was getting in here unless they fought their way in. With choke points we had to get through coming here, the Brotherhood would struggle in their power armor. The Institute was better suited if they knew this place was here and the Raiders didn't have jamming countermeasures in place.

In most cases, the word "basement" would mean cramped and uncomfortable, for me at least. This place was uncomfortable but that was mostly due to being surrounded by enemies.

It sure as hell wasn't cramped. The concrete ceiling was at least a meter above my head and the rooms we passed through were massive. They were lined with racks full of parts, supplies, and weapons. Something to note for the future.

"This is how they were able to repair those trucks", Nate mused. His voice was still tight. It sounded like he was trying to force himself to relax.

"Very good, Nate", Castle said as she stopped at a floor-to-ceiling steel door set in a reinforced frame. It almost looked like a vault.

Could this be an opportunity to get more information? "Most equipment left down here would be protected from corrosion if they were oiled and stored properly before the war." I fixed my eyes on the woman. "That's why you decided to come here. Large stores of manufactured goods that would be hard to get anywhere else."

Her smile came back. "Not hard. Impossible." She motioned around her. "An entire base's worth of stuff meant to keep an armored battalion running independent of any outside suppliers in the event of a worst-case scenario. Took me a while to find something that would work, and hadn't been picked clean."

That was pride in her voice. She was bragging.

"It was your idea to come here?"

"Yes. Oh, don't feel special. It wasn't because I have any real interest in this shithole. It just happened to be on my list." Castle turned back to the door and pounded the side of a fist on it. Judging by the dull smack it made, that steel had to be half a meter thick. At least. Why'd she even do that? No one on the other side would hear.

"All these dumbasses sitting on top of a supply like this, walking around with Brahmin. Diamond City has been around for decades. The Minutemen", she shot a glance at me over her shoulder, "never touched this place. A major pre-war military base that everyone left untouched for two hundred years. Idiots." She spat the last word like she intended to kill someone with it.

One of the guards grunted. "Castle…"

The large man fitted out in what almost looked like a black BDU under his dark plate carrier stepped forward and pulled a crowbar from his back. The man used it to bang against the massive door. It was loud enough I could tell my suit's audio compensated for the sharp clang. Nate flinched as it exploded through the concrete room.

"What?" she asked. "What are they gonna do with that information, Seth? Not like they can go back in time and take the base over. Relax. Let a girl have her fun."

The guard moved away from the door. "Your 'fun' is why we're down here", he snapped back.

… The more I see of her interactions with the other Raiders, the more I'm convinced they keep her around because they're taking advantage of her, not because they want to.

A clank came from behind the door followed by a whirring mechanism. A heartbeat later, the door began swinging outward silently on its massive hinges.

On the other side were five more Raiders. They weren't carrying the large caliber rifles like the others. Instead, three were carrying… grenade launchers? They were massive bore, short barrel, cylinder fed, shoulder-fired weapons. I couldn't imagine what else they'd be. That's an… interesting decision in a confined space. If they're loaded with anti-personnel fragmentation grenades, they'd blow through my shield quickly enough but the shrapnel wouldn't get through my armor.

Behind them was another large room, this one not crowded with shelves. Instead, it looked like the lobby of a hotel. There were couches and small tables arranged in a circle at the far end. To the right was what looked like a dining area and, behind that, was another large steel door. It didn't look as formidable as the one we were passing through.

The new Raiders stepped aside to let us pass. Each of them had their eyes fixed on me.

"All of these guards for me…" I said quietly.

"Don't play dumb, Damon", Castle said, laughing. "None of us think, for a second, you wouldn't take the opportunity to assassinate us down here. Besides, didn't you just get done killing a bunch of people with no weapons? Seems like a good reason to be ready for you."

I looked around at the… 20 Raiders surrounding us. Most were keeping a few meters' distance between myself and them. If they didn't care about friendly fire, they certainly had weaponry that could cause some damage. Half of them were carrying standard weaponry, which wouldn't be a problem, but the 10 with a mixture of high-caliber rifles and grenade launchers would be interesting.

Would I trade the lives of the support team to assassinate their leadership?

Maybe if I could get all of them.

If I could get all of them… It was my turn to laugh. "You're right. Which is why I doubt I'm meeting with all or a significant portion of your leadership."

Castle stopped at the door and smiled at me. "More observant than I gave you credit for."

This time, when she knocked on the door, the reverberation through the other side was audible. It only took a heartbeat before it swung open.

On the other side was the facsimile of a command center. It had everything: terminals arranged around the room, a large table in the middle, and a half dozen stern-faced commanders staring at me.

Even so, it still felt… off. Like they were trying to pretend to be a legitimate military outfit but it didn't completely fit them.

"Everyone", Castle said as she stopped in front of the table, "here's Damon!"

As far as introduction to leadership goes, that was pretty non-standard. Almost like she was flipping them off. Which, if my hunch about their relationship is right, she was.

"We figured", the Raider at the head of the table, an older man with scars crisscrossing a head that, aside from his eyebrows, was completely devoid of hair, said, "thanks for the clarification, Castle."

His voice was gruff to the point it sounded fake. The rest of them had their eyes fixed on me. Their 'intense' stares seemed as though they were trying too hard to be firm and unblinking.

The theater. That's why this feels off. It feels like a performance.

Why would they be pretending?

A bunch of reasons. I think they're uncomfortable.

Another glance at Nate told me he was still wrestling with his anxiety. His jaw was tight and the muscles in his neck were straining against his skin, but it was better. He was getting there. I just need to buy him a little more time.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"You to shut your mouth unless someone talks to you", the man said.

I cocked my head. "You're talking to me now, so what do you want?"

Even though I didn't think it was possible, his frown got even deeper. After a moment of internal conflict played across his face, he returned to his prior expression. "First", he barked, turning to Castle, "I want to know why you put our people in that arena."

Is this a debrief? Or a downdressing?

The woman shrugged, unbothered. "Because it was important to see what these two", she motioned at us, "and their people would do in a controlled environment."

"Which wasn't possible with other prisoners? What was the Gauntlet for, then?"

"It was a one-time thing", Castle replied. "They'd know they were fighting other prisoners if we continued the way we were. Without Damon, these people are more competent than most of the settlers we bring in. I thought it was a good idea for you to get a good idea of the differences in how they do things."

Another Raider, this one almost identical to the first aside from a gray-white beard that went to the middle of his chest, grunted. "Why is this something we needed to know? What you told us is you wanted to recruit Damon."

"Which you didn't seem interested in. Seeing how much he could add was a good way to convince you."

"By killing our people", a third man, this one younger, said.

Castle nodded. She looked bored. "It wasn't anyone important. And I think we learned a lot from that exercise."

"Such as?" the first one asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"They can be resourceful and fight well in some pretty difficult circumstances. They're creative enough to play by their own rules, even under pressure. But they still keep their tactics simple, straightforward, and effective." She turned to me. "Whose idea was it to shoot out the lights?"

It had been Trent's suggestion but I have no clue what she wanted to do with the information. So I stayed quiet.

After a few seconds' pause, the Raider shrugged and looked back at her bosses. The first man rubbed at the scar lining the left side of his jawline.

"Answer the question", he ordered.

As if his telling me to would make a difference.

He let his arms fall to his sides and he frowned again. "There's something you need to understand: the only reason you're alive is that Castle thinks she can get you on our side. As far as we're concerned the sooner you, your friends, and that sad excuse for a community are eliminated, the better. A tight grin spread across his face. "No doubt we have plenty of people who want to kill you personally."

"The feeling's mutual", I said.

"Unfortunately for you, we're in a position to take action on that."

So am I.

They had to know they were handing me way too much intel with this little meeting. This isn't their full leadership team, but it's enough to make a difference.

My eyes drifted to Castle. She was still watching the man I was talking with. Still smiling.

She knows what I do- what I can do. She even seems aware of my specialization. If her goal is to, one, get my cooperation, and two, use me to assassinate the Raider leadership, she's using this meeting too.

"I'll make this easy for you", the man continued. "You answer whatever questions we have, or we shoot your friend." I met his gaze again. "Somewhere non-lethal to start. We'll get there eventually."

"Could see that coming a mile away", Nate mumbled, too quietly for anyone else to hear. He raised his voice. "Mine. It was my idea."

"Are you back?" I asked, again, low enough only he heard it.

He shrugged, glare still fixed on the leader. It was sharp but it conveyed the message well enough. 'I can worry about it when my life is in less danger.'

"Thought it would give us more room to maneuver if you guys couldn't see."

"You wouldn't be able to see either", the man said.

"We're used to fighting in the dark."

Our 'host' shook his head. "You're gonna need to lie better than that."

"Will I?" Nate huffed. "It was pretty dark in that warehouse and we did just fine. Doesn't sound like a lie to me."

"Are you telling me that's the only reason you shot out the lights?"

"I'm telling you the reason we shot out the lights was because it gave us an operational advantage."

I grinned behind my visor. He's given these sorts of answers during debriefs before. The passive-aggressive compliance was too well practiced to be improvised.

"It wasn't so Damon could move around the grounds more easily?" He looked back up at me. "That armor has night vision, right?"

"Yes", I said. Not like it's a secret. The Brotherhood's T-60 has an NVS. Not that my armor shares any form of architecture with theirs, but it's a reasonable assumption.

"So the advantage was for you."

Not entirely… "No."

"The purpose of the exercise was for you to kill", the man shot a look at Castle, "our 'commander'. Why didn't you?"

"You didn't give us enough time", Nate said.

His eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"You… stopped the fight before we could. We didn't surrender."

The more Nate spoke, the calmer he sounded. This was, apparently, a good distraction.

"We didn't see any further activity once the primary assault on your location ended. When you were called out of the building, Damon was with you. How would any of you have killed the commander in that position?"

This guy wasn't used to giving debriefs or performing interrogations. Which weren't dissimilar.

But he wants us to answer his questions…

"We weren't. We didn't know what you were throwing at us next so we consolidated our resources and fortified our position." Nate shrugged again. "Standard doctrine for static defense." He said it like that was the most obvious thing in the world. It was. It also wasn't what they'd expected. That means we'd been right: they were planning on me hunting their HVT while they assaulted the rest of the team.

It was a good idea to put Nate in charge of this.

Yes, I can pat myself on the back later.

"Why weren't you going after our commander?" the leader asked. His voice had a new edge on it as if he were trying to bite off the end of every word.

"Because we hadn't reached that stage of our plan yet." Nate looked at Castle. "No one told us there were rules about how we operated."

Now that was a lie. Not one they could call us on, though. Like Nate said: they stopped the fight, not us.

The man's face turned to stone, his jaw setting in place and his eyes narrowing to slits. He marched around the table and toward us until he was face-to-face with Nate. An… interesting decision considering he was well within arm's length of me. Either he was too stupid to consider that, or he figured the threat of having my people killed was enough to keep me from doing anything.

He also didn't seem to think Nate was a threat. The guy isn't a SPARTAN, but he was a good 15-20 years younger than the Raider, in much better shape and, I'd bet my life, in a different league for combat ability.

But it told me something about the man too: he wasn't as collected or conniving as Castle. This guy is what I'd expect from a Raider commander, even one who is experienced and relatively effective. They might be better equipped, better drilled, more proficient, and had better tactics than the rest of the bunch, but they still had the same predisposition. They were still Raiders. That's exploitable.

"You're a little too comfortable, Nate", he hissed. "You think you're walking off after this?"

"I'm still a prisoner", the ex-soldier said, voice carefully controlled.

The two of them continued staring at each other, tense silence around us. My body wanted to move. This asshole was a threat but-

My eyes drifted down to his hip. There was a handgun on it. The same 10mm pistol I had. 12-round magazine, it was enough to kill almost half of the people in here, if I could hit every shot. A spare magazine was in its pocket on the front of the holster. If he tried anything at this distance, I'd be able to react before it could happen. None of his people would shoot with him this close.

Unless he didn't intend to do anything, and was only trying to intimidate, he'd just put himself in the worst position possible.

If he was only trying to intimidate…

It was subtle, so subtle I doubt anyone who didn't know the ex-soldier wouldn't have spotted it, but Nate was smiling. Not in the usual sense, he was almost as stone-faced as the man, but his eyes were squinted ever so slightly. A smile without the mouth.

Nate had served for almost two decades. He lived through the end of the world. He's fought Supermutants, giant scorpions, Deathclaws, the Brotherhood, Gunners, Raiders, Ghouls, the Institute, and me.

There was nothing this guy could do to intimidate him. And, if he tried to kill the ex-soldier, well, to put it in Nate's words, he was standing next to a "giant killer robot".

After 10 seconds of quiet, the Raider sneered. "I'm done with you. Get this asshole out of my face."

Before anyone could do so, Nate moved back of his own accord, skin around his eyes still creased in his hidden smile.

"Castle", the Raider said as he returned to his position at the head of the table. "You told me you wanted to learn more about how they fight before this." He fixed her in a glare. "You better have learned something."

"Oh, you bet I did", the woman beamed. It was as if she were completely immune to the mood in the room around her.

When she didn't elaborate, the leader scowled. "What. Did. You. Learn?"

"That they're more flexible than we thought. They defied my expectations when they decided on a more conventional approach to this. Damon is, to put it in pre-war military terms, an 'unconventional asset'. He's been their leader up till now." She turned to me, something in her normally deadened eyes. "They threw that out of the window and went with the approach we saw, with a little bit of the craziness that always comes around when Damon's involved. It was beautiful. A conventional defense mixed with that." She laughed.

"And how does that help?" the man with the massive beard demanded.

Castle's smile disappeared and she glared at him. "What do you mean? Do you not understand what we can learn from them? How knowing how they operate could help us? Someone in that group knows conventional tactics well enough to establish a simple and effective defense while allowing someone like Damon to do his thing. On top of that, they're good enough to hold a position without him, with bad weapons, and outnumbered."

My eyes narrowed. She knows about Nate. How?

Is that why the ex-soldier's here? And is that what he was thinking about when he said Castle wants me? Does she want to recruit him too?

"You're saying you want to recruit all of them", the leader said.

Castle shrugged. "I don't know about all of 'em. There are a few I'm more sure about than others." She motioned at us. "These two are the most important."

"And you think you can control them."

"Control them?" the woman huffed. "No. You don't control something like Damon. You point him in the direction you want to make a mess. The others…" she shrugged again. "We use them like any other good tactician."

The man's eyes narrowed. "You understand there has to be consequences for this. We lost people because of this little "test". Our boys already wanted blood."

Consequences… Nate and I exchanged a glance.

"I would give anyone who wants revenge the chance to see if they can do better", Castle replied.

"You know that isn't enough."

"This has been a lot of work for me, Lucas. Don't screw it up because some Jet-heads are angry."

Castle was defending us?

Makes sense. Especially if I'm right about her end goal. She'll want me to be loyal to her, not their leadership.

Another Raider, this one younger than the others by at least a decade, without the same collection of scars and blonde, close-cropped hair decided to add his voice. "You keep pushing your luck, we'll stop making excuses for you."

"When you find someone who can do what I do, feel free to replace me", Castle said.

"Don't forget he", the younger (relatively) Raider jabbed a finger at me, "broke into this base and escaped with prisoners while you were in charge here."

"Uh-huh. And now he's back as a prisoner himself." She sounded bored all of a sudden. This was a conversation they'd had before. "Any other questions?"

"Are you going to try this again?" the leader asked. "Do I need to require approval for anything to do with them?"

She shook her head. "I think I got what I needed out of this."

"We'll see about that…" he waved toward the door behind us. "Get them out of here. We need to figure out what to do about this mess and I don't want you screwing it up."

"Gladly!" Castle beamed. She turned and marched toward us, her customary smile plastered on her face. The vacancy had returned to her eyes. "Let's go."

Nate and I shared another, short, glance before we followed her.

That had been… strange. There was so much going on. Debriefing with Trent, Nate, and Able would be important. A conversation with Deacon more so. We need them to get in touch with Dez. We just learned a lot about the Raider's leadership structure. And we need to figure out what all that meant. There was a lot to unpack.

We passed through the large steel door and it swung shut behind us. The journey back through the endless racks of preserved pre-war military parts felt like it took five times longer than the way in.

So much information was packed into that meeting… I'm probably missing a lot of implications.

What I need to do is figure out what the hell Castle is really up to. Am I right about her relationship with the Raider leadership? That sure seemed like it. Brenda would probably be a help figuring some of that out.

Kinda wish Ellie and Nick were here.

X

The atmosphere was different as we marched into the cafeteria-turned-prison cell. It was quiet. There was anticipation hanging thick in the air with every eye on us. Hell, it sounded like no one was even breathing as we stopped at the door and Ben opened it with a click. The normally snide and talkative Raider only glared as he slammed the cell shut behind us.

His demeanor hadn't been unlike that of the other Raiders glaring at us during our march back to our cell. Nate, without the distraction, tensed again. The others were just as stiff and uncomfortable as they'd been when we left. At least it hadn't gotten worse…

Even though the fight had only been a little while ago, I don't doubt its results had made their way around the base by now.

It hadn't gone as he expected. It hadn't gone like, I assume, most of the Raiders thought it would. To them, with me in their custody, I'd probably stopped being something to fear. Regardless of what Castle's intent with agreeing to this was, it had been a wake-up call for these assholes. This team isn't one they can take lightly. The Minutemen aren't to be taken lightly.

And I'm just as dangerous as I've been since the first day I was dropped into this hellhole. Being behind these bars doesn't change that.

Silence persisted as the guard held my gaze for a few more seconds. The distinct sound of him gathering saliva preceded him pursing his lips to spit.

The glob hit my chest plate with a wet smack.

I cocked my head but didn't say anything. We all knew why he did that. We all knew he couldn't do anything else. There was no response necessary.

After a few more seconds of silence, his eyes narrowed.

"Fuck you", he said and marched toward the door.

Once it slammed shut, I turned back to the rest of the support team. It felt as if the entire room released a collective breath.

"Is everyone alright?" Brenda asked, looking us both over.

Nate shrugged. It was just as stiff as the rest of him. "No one was hurt. Raiders took a beating." His voice had gone back to the clipped, harsh tone he'd had before.

"Oh yeah?" one of the prisoners from the other cell said. It sounded like he could barely contain his excitement. "How bad?"

Bad enough for them to essentially surrender.

But that wasn't my concern. Not at that moment, anyway. Everyone was fine, physically, but they were coming down off a massive adrenaline high. It was one they probably weren't used to dealing with. They'd be crashing hard. And that was on top of the physical exhaustion that came with a fight like that.

There was… more though. It wasn't obvious but each of them looked… distant? Distracted? The way, as they were surrounded by others, they wouldn't meet anyone's gaze was odd. They were all at some stage of anxious, ranging from tensed muscles to, in Blake's case, hard, heaving breaths.

It was all signs of extreme stress, yes, but this in particular is something I've seen before. Recently. It's a lot like-

My eyes shifted to Brenda. She was watching them too.

As usual, Nate was the first person to speak up. Despite his own struggles.

"Hey guys, I know everyone wants to hear what happened but let's take a minute, alright? We were just fighting for our lives. Give 'em some space." The ex-soldier managed to smooth his voice out enough to get the words out without stumbling.

It took a few seconds but, eventually, they all obliged. Trent, Blake, Miranda, and Laura all retreated to the rear wall, one by one. Trent's eyes paused on me for a heartbeat before he leaned against it and sank to a seated position.

"Sorry Greg", Nate called to the other cell with a tired grin. "It was a rough fight. But we handed them their asses."

I turned to see the prisoner nodding. "I know how that goes. Take your time. Not like we're goin anywhere."

"Damon." He jerked his head toward the alcove on the cell's left side.

Once we were standing in it, Nate positioned himself in front of me so I'd block anyone looking toward us. As soon as he did, my friend exhaled explosively and slumped against the wall. His entire body was trembling. He struggled to stay on his feet.

"Th- that was- uh- that was interesting", he muttered, voice shaking just as much as the rest of him. He ran a hand over his face. "Don't know how I held it together that long."

"You had something to focus on. Makes it easier."

He nodded. "How long did it take yours to stop? Happening in general, I mean?"

"Not long. I was a kid. And had a lot of help pushing my trauma as far away as possible."

"Guess that's w- why you're so well-adjusted no- now." He grimaced. "Sorry. I didn't mean that. I just-" Nate stopped and sucked a stiff breath through his teeth. "Dammit."

While I wanted to help him, the only advice I had was what I told him the first time one of these happened: breathe and focus. Not like that's the most useful thing someone could tell him now.

"I can go get Brenda-"

"No." Nate shook his head, face pale. "Th- I don't want them to see me like this. Everyone's already str- stressed. They don't need to see me like this."

Morale? "You think they wouldn't understand? I don't know if you're giving them enough credit."

"I don't know. Don't want to t- take that chance." He grunted as his legs wobbled for a moment. "Just give me a few more minutes."

Panic attacks… I think the rest of the support team would get it but- I don't know if it's my place to ask him. Most of them don't know about my issues. Would they get those? Would I want to take the risk they don't?

Then what can I do to help?

"I think I was right about Castle", I said. "She wants to use me to kill them. That was to get me intel as much as it was to placate them." I cocked my head. "You knew she was interested in you too."

The ex-soldier managed a small smile. "Yeah, I did. She told me before you got here."

"How did she know about you?"

"I'm… not really s- sure." He took a deep breath. "But she's done her homework. Those guys were just like all the other Raiders just… no- not as high and a little bit smarter. Guess there's a predisposition."

I nodded. "Probably."

Nate pushed himself away from the wall. His legs were steadier. He wasn't good, there was still a noticeable shake in his voice and his hands were trembling, but he was getting better.

"It's getting better."

"Good", I said. "Castle's unusual for a Raider."

The smaller man nodded. "I wonder how she ended up here. Where she came from."

"Whatever the answer is, I'll worry about it after we aren't prisoners."

"Yeah." He managed a quiet laugh. "Probably a good idea." The ex-soldier looked to my left. "You did pretty well down there. You have some experience with malicious compliance too." He smiled. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised. You are an asshole."

"It's why we get along."

Another laugh, this one steadier. "You're calling me an asshole?"

"Do you disagree?"

He shook his head. "No, but we're talking about orders of magnitude."

I cocked my head. "I didn't think you knew a phrase like that."

"Uh-huh. See what I mean?"

"It isn't news to anyone", I replied.

"No. That's true." Nate took a deep breath. There was still a rattle, but it was almost imperceptible. "So, uh, we should check on the others. I know that's the first time Trent has been in a real fight. Might be the same for the rest."

They weren't in good shape. "They looked a lot like Brenda after we regrouped at the safe house."

Nate frowned. "That's… a pretty good comparison." His frown turned into a grimace. "Bad, but good." He took another long, deep breath, looking up at the concrete ceiling, and pushed it out of his nose. "Alright. I'm good. For now." When his eyes dropped back down to me- they weren't clear, but they were focused.

Turning aside to allow him by, I followed the infantryman back into the cell's main area.

Now that I wasn't concentrating on Nate, I could hear the quiet conversation drifting from the others. It was, mainly, Brenda's voice.

When we emerged from the alcove, she was sitting with-

Julian?

The two of them were just beside the small nook's entrance, sitting on the ground, backs against the wall. They both stood as we emerged.

"... Hey", Brenda said, hesitant. There was just as much uncertainty in the frown on her face as there was in her voice.

I looked over the two of them further into the cell. Blake, Miranda, Laura, and Trent were all on the far side, still sitting against the wall. A few others were talking among themselves, Alex was conversing with one of the prisoners in the other cell. Everyone was leaving the four of them alone.

"What's up?" Nate asked, his voice steady once again, if a little soft.

Brenda glanced between Nate and me for a heartbeat before her eyes settled on me. "Julian wants to talk to you about something… private. He isn't sure how to." She set a hand on his shoulder. The teenager's gaze was fixed on the ground. "I told him you'd understand."

He wants to talk with me? I'd understand? I cocked my head. "Okay."

She smiled. It was small, just an upturn of the corners of her mouth. But it was there. "Nate, I think we should go talk with them." She motioned toward the group of four with her head.

"... Alright", he said. He sounded as confused as I felt.

Before either of them could say anything else, Brenda turned and started toward the other side of the cell. A mildly bewildered-looking Nate followed.

Why- what would Julian want to talk to me about he didn't want to say to Nate? Technically, Nate is the leader of this team, not me. Unless it wasn't about this team.

"Julian?" I asked, doing my best to soften my voice, much like Nate had. I needed practice.

His eyes were still fixed on the ground. He squeezed them shut and sucked in a breath.

"I don't think I can- want to- I just- this isn't what I thought it would be", he said, words crashing into each other as they poured out of his mouth.

"What you thought it would be? What isn't?"

"This." He motioned around us, still staring at the concrete between his boots. "Fighting. It wasn't- it was my mom and dad before Quincy. They did it all. They taught me how to shoot. I- I got a lot of practice. I thought since they could do it, and I'd already been through so much, I could too."

I frowned. "You don't think you can fight?"

Julian shuddered. "I'm sorry."

Sorry? "For what?"

"Remember when we first met back in Concord? WhenHow I said I was the next best shot after Mr. Garvey?"

"Yes", I replied.

"I thought that was the hardest part about fighting. Then when we started working on Sanctuary and set the teams up, I figured there was a lot more to it. I asked to be part of the teams because I thought I could help. Glory and Victor and the others helped me so much and I- I feel like they wasted their time on me when they could have been training someone else." Everything was tumbling out so fast, it was almost like an avalanche.

"And then this team- everyone else is under a lot of pressure just like me- and you aren't much older than me and you aren't having these problems-" Julian's voice caught in his throat. Even I could tell he was having trouble keeping his thoughts in order. They were mixing with each other faster than he could process them and put them into words.

But I understood. Brenda was right.

"Fighting is mental as much as it is physical", I said slowly. "And you're in an extraordinary position."

"Everyone is. It isn't just me. But I don't- I don't see anyone else acting like this." His voice was growing thick. "I don't see anyone else whining like this."

What was I supposed to say? 'It's alright'? That wouldn't help. I know what he means: right now, we're in the middle of the Raider's largest stronghold in the area, maybe on this side of the country. And he was struggling with fear.

"People died because of me. You had to kill people because of me." His hands went to his throat. "If I hadn't been there when you- Vincent would-"

The image of the collar detonating was seared into my mind. It wasn't just the blinding explosion, it was the image of him lying on the ground afterward. Dead. Just a few meters away.

Julian was wrong though.

"No, he wouldn't", I said quietly. "You kept a cool head, realized what was happening, tried to keep that prisoner alive… That fight with the other prisoners wasn't on you either. Castle put both of us in that position because she could. She wanted to show she's in control. Nothing that happened was your fault."

He opened his mouth to say something, but the words didn't come. All that did was a choked grunt.

This was all beside the issue. "It's fine if you don't want to fight. There's nothing wrong with that."

The teenager finally looked up. He blinked. "What?"

"I'm not saying I don't think you can. If Glory trusted you enough to put you in command of a QRF, she thinks you can. I trust her judgment. What we're doing here isn't what you signed up for. We aren't fighting to keep Sanctuary safe. Just because all of us are in the same position doesn't mean we all react the same way. I've been doing this for a long time. So has Nate."

My mind flashed back to the conversation we just had. Would Nate be upset if I said something? Would it become an issue for morale like he thinks?

It's his story, not mine.

"This is just me but I think, if it came down to it, you'd do a great job if you needed to defend your- our home. That doesn't matter though. I won't lie and say we don't need you right now. After this, if you decide you want to do something else, no one will hold it against you. And if they did", I shrugged, "they're wrong."

Julian blinked.

Then he blinked again.

And a third time.

He looked confused, like that wasn't what he expected to hear.

"You don't- you don't think I'd be letting anyone down?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Everyone's been exposed to violence of some kind here. Some people can't-" no… that's the wrong way to put that. "Some people just aren't wired that way. So they find other ways to contribute. There's nothing wrong with that. You wouldn't be letting anyone down if you find some way you want to help."

"But… they don't- they don't matter like fighting does. Who cares if we can grow food if Raiders attack us."

They don't matter as much? "Don't they?" I huffed. "Look at this place", I motioned around us. "These assholes can't do anything besides get high and fight. The Minutemen aren't different because we have better fighters. The Minutemen are different because of everything else."

Julian didn't respond. Not immediately. He blinked again.

"... Oh", he said, eventually. "I- oh."

I nodded. "Like I said: we're in a difficult position right now. I think you have the capability to do what you trained to, if you need to. But you can always do something else if you want."

"I- thanks."

Before I could reply, a new sound tugged at the edge of my hearing. An instant later, it resolved into marching. A lot of it. Way more than usual.

My jaw set. Something was up.

Stepping around Julian, I stood at the bars across from the cafeteria's door.

Soon, the sound reached the other side and the rest of the room's occupants realized what was going on.

The door swung open to admit a stream of Raiders, all dressed in their mixture of leather and iron, all glaring daggers at me.

York was at their head.

Everyone stood and watched the approaching party. My eyes were fixed on them too but I could feel held breaths behind me.

Each of them was armed, most with the standard compliment of small arms. One had a large caliber rifle.

This doesn't seem like something Castle would do. This many Raiders, she'd have more with weapons that could hurt me. Their leaders took me seriously too.

This felt… off.

Once all of them had filed in, the Raiders were almost standing shoulder-to-shoulder. 23 in total.

The rest of the room had grown silent, air thickening so much I could feel it through my armor. Was this the 'retribution' that guy had been talking about? If it was…

I rescanned the crowd. Still only one Raider with anything but HK-33s, hunting rifles, or handguns.

But standing next to him was-

A smile slipped across my face.

Deacon was beside him. And Jackson was standing behind.

They'd managed to integrate that well?

This situation is still dangerous.

If I'm right, they aren't here for me. I'm still probably off-limits.

"That one", York said, pointing past me.

At Julian.

The Raider stepped up to the cell door and reached for the lock. "Back up, Damon."

"No", I said, moving in front of the door.

He stopped, key in the lock.

"If you don't", York said, voice low, "I'll shoot one of your friends."

Like hell. "Not if I break this door down and beat you to death first.

He sneered. "Why do you think I brought this many friends?"

"Because you're a fucking coward." I looked around at the assembled Raiders. "And a dumbass. You have one person who brought something big. I doubt even you are stupid enough to set an explosive off in here." My gaze returned to him. "You said, before, I'm the one in the cell. I'm only here as long as I want to be. And then, all that's between you and me is a little air."

The man maintained his sneer but I watched his eyes widen a fraction. "Then you lose all your people. And you die."

I snorted. "Doubt it."

"We aren't leaving. You don't get to get away with that bullshit."

"What bullshit?" I asked, struggling with a harsh laugh that was trying to climb its way up my throat. "The fight?"

One of the other Raiders stepped up to the bars. "That wasn't a fuckin fight. You ambushed our people."

Other than cocking my head, I didn't gratify the statement with a response. That was a stupid thing to say and everyone knew it.

"Get the hell out of the way", York spat.

Leaning forward, I stopped when my visor was a centimeter from the door and more or less eye-level with him. "Make. Me."

Silence settled over the cafeteria. Not the quiet where you can still hear things drifting in from the outside. Not the quiet where there's still ambient noise, people breathing or shifting. It was real silence.

York stared into my visor. Every other Raider's eyes were locked on me.

He kept his face twisted in a carefully crafted sneer. But I didn't need to see it on his face to know the man was afraid. I didn't need to see his tensed muscles, his frozen legs, or hear his thumping heart. I knew he was afraid because, if he wasn't, he would have opened the cell or tried to shoot someone by now. They got an up close and personal look at what happens when someone fights back.

The two dozen other Raiders in the cafeteria weren't sure they'd win this fight, so they were waiting for their 'leader' to make a move. That's good. That means they're afraid too. That's something I can-

More footsteps came from the hall. Not as many, but they were heading this way. There was an urgency to them, quick and heavy.

They grew loud enough for everyone else in the room to hear a few seconds later.

As if a spell had broken, the suffocating blanket of silence slowly pulled itself off of the cafeteria. Breathing started again, a few of the Raiders behind York shifted, and the guard himself grunted.

I straightened as the pounding footsteps reached the door and it slammed open with a bang.

And Castle marched in with three of the guards I'd seen at their headquarters in tow.

For the first time since I got here, she looked pissed.

"York", the woman said, voice low and as deadened as her normally lifeless eyes, "get the fuck out before I shoot you in the face. And take these idiots with you."

"What are you gonna do?!" the guard shouted. "Huh?! If you didn't notice, you got 4, I got 20. Dumb bitch."

She threw her head back and laughed. "And you think Lucas wouldn't do anything to you if you did survive? You'd have to kill me and three of his men. Besides…" she turned to me, a new smile on her face. This one was thin-lipped and harsh. Wicked. "… you think they are gonna sit around while the fight happens? No. You wouldn't just be fighting me. If you thought you could beat Damon you wouldn't be standing there, shit dropping out of your pants, you'd be shooting people.

The man opened his mouth to retort but Castle wasn't done. "And every one of them is better than you too, York. You're still trying to hold onto the illusion you're any more than a second-rate security guard." She laughed again. "You thought you could replace me, what a fuckin joke. You thought I didn't know." She stalked forward until she was directly in front of him. York almost had a head on her, but it sure didn't seem like that. "You're nothing. You know you're nothing. That's why you tried sneaking in here like the scared shitless pussy you are. That's why you're too chicken shit to open that door with Damon standing there. All bark, no bite. I've met too many goddamn cowards like you. Come on, I'm standing right here. There's only four of us."

The stilted silence dropped itself back over the cafeteria like a lead ingot. Even if I wanted, more than almost anything, to kill Castle, at that moment I was readying myself to grab York if he tried anything. She was the only thing standing between us and a gunfight. She was also the only thing standing between us and the Raider leadership, who wanted to kill everyone.

As strange as it sounded, I needed her alive for the time being. At least until I was in a position where I could end her.

York didn't have it in him. His eyes were wide and his face was twisted in a grimace, but it wasn't from anger. His hands were by his sides, the right one not in position to draw his sidearm.

Yeah, Castle was right.

"Glad we understand each other", Castle said, voice back to its fake enthusiasm as her blank smile slid back into place. "Now get the fuck out until you're ordered to do something, like the good little dog you are." She looked around at the other assembled Raiders. "As for the rest of you, I'll give you a better offer than this asshole. You work with me on this, you'll come out as part of the strongest group in the Commonwealth. And who knows how much more. If you're with me, if you don't wanna throw your lives away following some incompetent moron, step against the wall."

Five seconds passed in silence.

Ten.

Then the first one, a young woman, moved to the wall.

After that, a dozen more, including Deacon and Jackson, joined her. More than half of York's original group.

Castle turned her smile to the guard. She stepped aside and motioned toward the door.

Another few seconds of silence. York stared at the small woman in front of him, then looked at me, and back.

It was strange not being the center of attention for once.

Then, York walked past her and out of the room. The few Raiders who remained on his side followed.

"The rest of you", Castle said, addressing the rest, "welcome to the winning team."

She turned back to me, her usual, lifeless smile set firmly back in place. "Lucas was right. A lot of people want your head on a stick after that little fight."

"The feeling's mutual", I replied with a shrug.

"I'm glad. We'll need that attitude. You and me need each other now." With that, she turned and marched through the door, her new entourage filing out behind her.

We need each other.

Every Raider stole a glance at me as they left. Some of them were with narrow-eyed anger, others were fidgeting and nervous, unable to maintain eye contact for more than an instant. Most of those were the younger ones.

I watched until the cafeteria was empty again. Well- empty except for us and the other prisoners.

A low whistle came from the other cell. "What in the fuck did you guys do? I've never seen that before."

"Come over here", Nate's voice came from behind me. It was quiet, almost inaudible, even though he was only a few meters away. I glanced behind me to see him standing beside Julian. The teenager was standing ramrod straight, arms pinned to his side, eyes wide, and staring at the wall where the Raiders had been a minute ago.

The infantryman led him back to the alcove, followed by Alex.

Up to this point, Castle has been pressuring him, trying to break him. It isn't a tactic unique to psychological warfare. If you don't have a weak spot to exploit, you make one.

Part of her trying to break me is breaking them. She suspected I cared enough to come here, so what better way to put pressure on me than to break their morale. Julian is the one she decided to pick on.

He doesn't think he can fight… I don't know if that's true but I do know, regardless of whether he could have before this, what he's gone through here will impact that. Trauma is a powerful thing and he's had to watch Vincent die, me kill a half-dozen people to keep him alive, and that's on top of whatever they put him through before I arrived. And on top of the stress of being here.

I looked around the rest of the cell. An hour ago, we beat the Raiders in their own base bad enough their leadership decided a meet was necessary.

But you wouldn't know it looking at the support team.

The four who came with Nate and me into that fight were still sitting against the back wall. It didn't look like they'd gotten up when the Raiders arrived. Brenda was settling next to Trent, on the far side away from the door.

Julian, Alex, and Nate were in the alcove. The ex-soldier was talking quietly.

As for the rest… most were standing, clearly keyed up from the near-miss.

Terry was sitting in the far corner, watching everything, hand against his wounded thigh.

If it wasn't for him, we wouldn't be here. We wouldn't be in this situation. Maybe I should have guessed the attack on the Farms had been a feint. Maybe I should have insisted I be part of the support team instead of heading out before them.

Except, if we'd done that, the Farms would have been hit without warning and more people might have died.

And I could tell myself that as much as I wanted, but looking at that asshole made me angrier than Castle. He spent time training with these people, he knew a lot of them better than me. Despite that, he still sold them out.

Before I could think about doing something stupid, motion to my left caught my attention. Able marched over to me.

"Care to explain what just happened? And who "Lucas" is?" he asked.

"The fight with the Raiders went well. Between 35 and 40 dead." I motioned at Trent, Blake, Miranda, and Laura. "They performed as well as could be expected in this situation. The Raiders didn't like that. We got pulled into a meeting with their real leadership. Lucas was one of them. Possibly the top man. We're dealing with the C team here. They have a large force, a few hundred, of better-equipped and trained fighters in a well-fortified stronghold. It's on the north side. I'm guessing that's the nucleus all this formed out of. And our fuse is short."

Able cocked an eyebrow. "Our fuse is short?"

"Leadership doesn't like Castle. Evidence says my hunch was right. They have her on a short leash and they don't have much patience."

"Ah", the Railroad operative said. "So we're short on time. Any guesses on how long."

"No." I shook my head.

He exhaled slowly. "Well… I think that's a good thing and a bad thing. If they're impatient, we might not have much room to operate, but that means they're nervous." A frown crossed his face. "Not having information about what's going on outside sucks. Maybe the Institute or Brotherhood are pressuring them. It also means there's a wedge we might be able to exploit. Castle's smart, but she has blind spots. If we can slip into one of those, we might be able to use her. And you already laid the groundwork."

Groundwork? "What?"

"She doesn't trust you, but she trusts her bosses even less." He motioned at the door. "The people around her don't know what to think. That's the problem with getting this many people together who operate on drugs and a 'survival of the fittest' mentality. You're a lightning rod for them, and one Castle is banking on using to take control. This situation smells like either a last-ditch effort or the end of a long-term plan. With how careful it was laid out, I'm going with option number two."

Is he asking- "you want me to lean in?"

"That's one way of putting it", Able said with a sharp nod. "Seems like you have a better read on Castle than I do so… I'll leave what that looks like up to you. Deacon paid me a visit during your fight." He smiled, tight, with amusement in his eyes. "We got some fun getting ready to go. When we get closer to zero-hour, we'll talk. For now, you should probably focus on Castle."

My mouth opened to protest. I don't like being in the dark about planning, but it made sense. Instead, I nodded. "Alright."

"Yo!" the voice from the other cell called. "You gonna keep us sitting here wondering what happened? Haven't seen those jackasses that pissed off or scared since I been here. What happened?"

Able stepped up to the bars of the cell. "They set us up. They were trying to kill some of our people in a fight and… it didn't work. We think they lost around 40 of theirs." He motioned at the rest of the support team. "But we didn't lose anyone, so now they're pissed." Able reached over and pounded the side of his fist on my arm. "They decided to pick a fight. Our guys finished it."

"You mean he finished it", another one of the prisoners said, a short, older man with graying hair that stopped growing on top of his head a long time ago. "Your guy likes killin'. Don't think it matters who he does it to."

You aren't short-changing the others. "No", I responded and motioned behind me, "they did their jobs. I wasn't the only one fighting in there."

"That don't change what happened."

I shrugged with a nonchalance that was not consistent with the memory of Wendy that came to mind. "No one said it does. It doesn't matter how I feel about that, I can't take it back. I'm trying to keep them from making me do it again."

"They clearly can't make you do shit!", the guy shouted.

"When they put my people in danger, they can."

"Stop", one of the other prisoners demanded. "We already had this talk. It ain't getting us anywhere. Damon? That's your name?" I nodded. "Thank you. If you're telling the truth, and you got the bitch to put you in a ring with her people instead of more of us."

Most of the other prisoners refused to meet my gaze, their eyes fixed on the floor, a wall, or anything else in the room. They were… scared of me.

Like that's a surprise. Even if I hadn't been killing their friends.

It wasn't a good feeling.

"You're welcome", I said.

X

Something like a bolt of electricity shot through my chest and I jolted awake. My eyes shot open and I-

What? Where am I?

It was dark. Not dark enough I needed my NVS to see clearly but close. This wasn't the cafeteria… or… was it? There were rows of long tables with built-in benches in front of me. A food counter to my left.

But I was standing. I don't know if I've ever slept standing before. I don't sleepwalk. And there was no one else around.

Wait… there are no tables in the cafeteria. Where are the bars? Where's the support team? The other prisoners?

I'm… alone?

It was then I noticed the quiet. Everything was dead silent. I couldn't even hear the sound of my own breathing.

Alarms were blaring in my head. It went beyond the odd situation. There was something else that felt wrong. I couldn't tell exactly what it was. My eyes darted around. Everything, from the tables to the windows on the far side of the cafeteria, to the food counter- it all looked… not quite right. I'm not sure why. Was it too sharp? Too dull? Were the colors wrong? Were the shapes wrong?

Relax. Think. Figure out where I am first.

My first thought was to go to the windows and look outside. If I don't know what's happening, that might be a bad idea. No telling what might be out there.

Besides… the windows were obscured, entirely black. And the blackness felt even more wrong than the cafeteria. Every instinct was telling me to stay the hell away from it.

So I did.

Instead, I lowered myself into a half-crouch and slipped to the door on my right.

Out of habit, I kept my steps as light as possible, relying both on smooth, unbroken motion and the vibration-dampening soles in my armored boots to stay quiet. Even then, my steps didn't sound right either.

The floor was thin, alternating pattern tile, probably over concrete. I can stay practically silent on my own, but there is a very soft tic as the soles contact hard surfaces. Unless everything else was silent, you were very attentive and knew what to listen for, you wouldn't identify it as footsteps.

That sound was entirely absent.

Curiosity got the better of me as I neared the door and I allowed the titanium toe of my left boot to contact the ground. It, again, wouldn't be loud, but it would be clear.

Nothing.

Were the audio pickups in my helmet damaged?

Settling by the door, I peered through the small glass window.

Or the internal speakers?

An empty hallway. There were lockers on the opposite side.

No… if that's all it was, I'd be able to hear my breathing.

Am I in a school?

Did I go deaf, somehow?

The hallway outside looked familiar. I've seen this before. Recently.

There was no one in the hall so I stole a look back into the cafeteria. It looked familiar too. I've been here. It wasn't long ago, either.

Why is this familiar? Why does it seem so wrong?

If it isn't coming to mind, think through it. Focus. Cafeteria. When would I have been in a cafeteria?

Besides the Raider base? The school.

When was I in it?

After the Raiders came to the school.

Okay, what happened?

In the cafeteria? I… well- Brenda, Nate, and Cass ate. I was there.

So is this that cafeteria?

… Yes.

My gaze drifted back to the small window. Was that hallway the same as the one outside the cafeteria?

…

Maybe? I couldn't remember details. But I do remember it was on the second floor of the school, not far from the courtyard.

So I'm at the school-

What the hell am I doing at the school?! My eyes shot wide. Had the Raiders come here? Did they bring me here?

No one, no bodies.

Grabbing the handle, I pulled the door open-

A sound caught my attention as soon as a crack appeared between the door and its frame. It was instant. After the abject silence since I woke up, any noise would have been like a bomb going off in my head.

It was a soft… I think the only word I could describe it with is "crackle".

A fire?

When I pulled the door open all the way, I peered into the hall. Both my left and right were clear.

On the floor in front of me was- my MK18. What the hell? The rifle was just… laying there. I hadn't seen another one. The optic was the same 1-6X assault scope Owen had topped it with. It was still in almost pristine condition, the only marring a dent in the magwell. I don't remember when that had happened, probably when the church blew.

It was just like mine. There was no way to be 100% sure but the odds were astronomical.

How had it gotten here? It was with Danse and the rest of the recon force. Or it should have been.

Crouching, I pulled the rifle from the tile floor. The magazine was full, a round chambered.

The rifle's weight was a comfort. I was familiar with the gun, I knew what it could do. I knew what I could do with it. If something's happening, I can at least be effective.

Rifle shouldered, sights trained on the intersection at the far end of the hall, I moved forward. Despite the sudden addition of sound to the world, my footsteps and breath were still absent.

A few seconds later, I reached the intersection and cleared it. The crackling was getting louder.

Besides my strange auditory experiences, everything still felt wrong. I still couldn't decide if it was too sharp or too dull, but what did stick out to me was how everything was perfectly uniform. None of the tiles were cracked, all of the lockers were closed and rust-free, every door was the same.

The doors.

Just like the outside-facing windows in the cafeteria, the small reinforced window in each door was pitch black.

And, just like the windows looking outside, every instinct told me to stay the hell away from them.

So I did. I turned right at the intersection and headed toward the crackling. It was in the direction of the courtyard.

Had someone set the courtyard on fire? That would be bad. It was the school's source of food. Without it-

Why isn't anyone around?

… That was a good question.

I came to a stop at another intersection. The courtyard was one more hallway up. There was a soft glow reflecting off of the too-pristine lockers on the wall to my left. It wasn't as harsh but the same glow was bouncing off of the tile floor and concrete ceiling too.

No people, no bodies, no signs of a fight. No signs of life, or death, in general.

Then I recognized the pit in my stomach. It must have been there the whole time but I'd just now realized it.

Something about this was incredibly wrong.

My throat tightened but I pushed the thoughts, and doubts, away. If something's going on, I, and everyone else, are better served by figuring it out.

After another check of the intersection, I slipped down the hall toward the second-floor balcony ringing the courtyard.

The crackling was getting loud. Too loud. It had been at the very edge of my hearing when I left the cafeteria. Now, it was almost deafening.

The audio pickups in my helmet should be compensating but… they weren't. If it wasn't for my HUD, I'd have thought I wasn't wearing a helmet.

Like the crackling, that glow I'd seen at the intersection was almost painful.

It looked more and more like a fire. If the sound and light were that intense, it would have to be huge.

…

…

…

And it was.

Almost like it was waiting for me to make visual contact, the instant I stepped into the hall that would take me to the courtyard, a violent whoosh slammed into me. It wasn't just auditory, the air was suddenly being yanked past me and to the left. It was heading toward the opening that overlooked what should have been a massive garden.

That garden was gone.

A massive, burning pile of… something took its place.

The pit in my stomach opened into a canyon, the tightness in my throat came back with a vengeance so severe I almost gagged, and my chest clenched so hard it hurt.

It was only a decade and a half of training and combat experience that stayed my feet long enough to clear up and down the hallway.

As soon as I confirmed there was no one around, I headed left toward the balcony at a dead run. My boots pounded on the tile floor, the impacts sending vibrations up my spine and into the base of my skull. The rushing wind generated by the fire's massive pressure differential was pulling me along with it.

I slid to a stop just inside the balcony's opening.

The burn pile was huge. Even though I was on the second story, it towered over me. It would have reached the second floor's ceiling with a meter or two to spare.

Was- was this another burn pile? Had the Raiders won? Did they wipe out the school? Was everyone here dead?

With a desperation I knew wouldn't make it go any faster, I ordered my visor to polarize. It did and everything around me dimmed until the only visible object was the burn pile.

Peering past the still painfully bright flames, I tried to see what was burning. Were they the bodies of-

… What the fuck? What's going on here?

It- it wasn't people.

It was books.

Confusion bloomed to take the place of at least some of my fear.

Why would there be a pile of books burning?

None of this was right. The school, the lack of people, the burn pile of books. What's happening?

Those books… why were they being burned? Who burned them? Why was it important?

There were so many… thousands to make a pile this size.

A new emotion joined the party. It wasn't one I'd felt many times before, and all of them were recent. I couldn't place it.

What the hell is happening here?

My impatience got the better of me. Instead of doing what was probably the smarter thing, I vaulted over the balcony's railing and dropped to the courtyard below.

Bending my legs to absorb the impact, I was barely out of my crouch before I started toward the pile.

The air around the towering mound of burning books must have been hundreds of degrees. I wouldn't have felt the heat through my armor but… it sure as hell seemed like I could. It felt like my armor wasn't doing a damn thing about it. The heat of the flames felt as if they were spearing straight through my armor, like it was trying to burn me.

I stopped a dozen meters away from the raging torrent. The crackling and roaring was deafening this close to the pile. The wind rushed up from behind me to fuel the blaze, trying to pull me in. If I hadn't been in almost half a ton of armor, it might have.

There was a book lying at my feet, charred almost beyond recognition. The cover was blackened and half burned away. The pages behind it were, likewise, fire-scarred.

Something deep in my chest ached as I looked down at it. I bent over and set my rifle on the ground, picking the mauled book up.

Pieces of it broke away under my grasp. It had been savaged by the flames. The thing felt so fragile.

When I pulled the front cover aside, charred bits of it flaked away. The first few pages were burned beyond recognition, the words on it, the story it told lost to the fire. Stolen by the fire.

As I looked up at the fire, I couldn't help but wonder who started it. Why they would start it. Was there a reason for it? There had to be, right? No one would just burn all these books for no reason.

Right?

For some reason, I wasn't sure about that.

My eyes drifted back down to the destroyed book in my hands. I flipped through a few more pages until I came across one that still had a few words on it-

But I couldn't read them.

Why couldn't I read them?

More pages. More words. Sentences I couldn't read.

I kept flipping through. It was in English. I knew it was but- but I couldn't read them.

Then they stopped.

Why would it stop?

Leafing back a few pages, I found the point the writing ended. It stopped halfway down a page in the middle of a sentence.

Why did it end so suddenly? Was it not finished? Why would someone burn an unfinished book?

Were… I turned my gaze back to the burning pile. Were any of these books finished?

It was impossible to be sure since I couldn't look through them but, even without being able to verify…

They weren't. I knew none of them were finished.

A/N: Aaaaaah so some major developments have happened very quickly. Between the growing rift among the Raiders (something, I hope was clear, that existed before these events), the various loyalties, the attention the gang is getting, and their tenuous mental state, a lot is happening all at once. I hope I'm doing a good enough job conveying that. These dream sequences have been a lot of fun for me to write. There's nothing groundbreaking about them, I know, but I think it's a good vehicle to explore themes in the story. Like I've said before, nothing happens in them that hasn't already been explored in the events of the story. It's just a different stage. That's all for this time! See eveyone in the next chapter!

Next Chapter, 4/19: All is Fair...