Chapter 4: Begin Again

* Has your life taken a turn? Do troubles beset you? Has fortune left you behind? *

Veronica took off her gas mask to get a better look at the voice. At first, she thought it was coming from the fountain up ahead, but then she realized it was far closer than that. Looking down at her right hand revealed her power fist and the Pip-Boy she'd salvaged from Vault 34 and used to navigate her way to the isolated Casino. The screen was cracked, but it worked.

* If so, the Sierra Madre, in all its glory, is inviting you to begin again. *

The abandoned villa stood before her in all its eerie glory beneath the dark red shroud overhead. Something stirred over the fountain in front of her. It looked like a ghost, but Lisa had warned her of the Madre's holograms to know better than to assume the supernatural.

"You're supposed to be Vera Keyes, so… why do you look so much like me?"

The hologram did not answer, but the radio on her Pipboy kept rattling on. *"Join us, let go, and leave the world behind at the Sierra Madre's grand…. op…. w… waiting."*

The pipboy flickered one last time, and then, the screen blew off.

"Oh, come on!" cursed Veronica. She needed the Pipboy to get past the vault! The elevator would only activate to a replay of Vera Keye's voice and a specific code phrase.

"Humph! And you call yourself a brotherhood scribe?" asked a voice from… the Pipboy?

"I taught you better than to depend on RobCo trash, girl!"

No, it wasn't coming from the Pipboy, but from right behind her.

"Elijah?" asked Veronica uncertainly as she turned around to face the speaker.

The man in front of her looked younger than the one Veronica had last met shortly before Helios One. His hair hadn't yet greyed over, though it was well on the way there.

"Great, now I'm hallucinating, because the ghosts weren't enough," she chuckled, nervously.

"I guess this is one of those days you would've given me a bunch of unrelated pieces of tech and told me to work it out?" she asked her delusion, falling back to her old childhood pout.

"Do you truly need the Pipboy to open the vault?" asked the young Elijah.

Veronica hummed as she thought it over, "Actually, I don't need the Pipboy, I just need something to play Vera Keyes holotape, if it still works, but the player is fused shut…"

A hand suddenly broke through the red mist and rushed towards her neck before she could intercept it. The mutant gasmask's eyes glared green as it choked the life out of Veronica's lungs. Little by little, her power fist moved over the creature's hand, and with the last of her strength, she activated the pneumatic cycle in a last-ditch attempt to push it aside.

The impactor rolled forward uselessly, the creature simply ignoring the hit, proving to be just as durable as Lisa had warned. Just as Veronica thought she was done for, the gauntlet's fingers pressed around the mutant's hand completely free of the will of her laxing muscles. A mysterious source of hydraulic pressure steadily increased the force around the mutant's right hand, until finally, it snapped off in a gruesome explosion of dark red mist.

The creature howled, either in pain or anger as Veronica fell onto her hands, grasping for as much air as she could fit in her lungs. When she got up and prepared herself to finish the job, she found no sign of the creature in the mist, just its torn off hand, still twitching on the floor.

"What the hell was that thing?!" muttered Veronica as she massaged her neck.

Veronica tugged on cautiously just in case the creature returned, but it never did. An open gate slowly emerged through the mist, revealing the Casino's grounds proper. When she looked up, her eyes widened in surprise. The casino in front of her was fully lit up, its gleaming lights breaking even through the thick mist around it, giving the Lucky 38 a run for its money. A large swimming pool lay up front near the steps into the Casino, its holographic attendants wandering around the edge carrying trays full of champagne glasses to their imaginary clients in the water. No… not imaginary, someone was in there!

"Christine?" called out Veronica, only to come face to face with yet another hologram of Vera Keyes, sporting the same dress, only this time her features were quite unlike Veronica's.

It was only after she took a second step forward that Veronica realised that the tiles beneath her feet had vanished, sending her hurtling into the murky depths of the poisoned red water.

"Christine!" she called, but the hologram showed her no interest.

* Begin again in the night... *

The breath she'd been holding gave way, her body aching for air, but the melody soothed her, pulling her away from the pain and into the water's comforting embrace. She could see a slender feminine hand rise from the depths to touch her cheeks. Christine? Is it you?

"Come on, Veronica! Breathe!" shouted a voice, the words strained and thick with urgency. Something pressed hard against her chest, but she was all but numb to her cracking ribs.

"Is…. sh…she okay?" asked a higher pitched voice.

A flash of sight broke through the darkness, revealing the face of a frightened blue haired girl, but as quickly as it emerged, it vanished back into the abyss.

"Is she dead?" asked another child, somewhat older, and more cynical.

Dead? A sharp pain ran through her right hand from where she'd accidently cut it moments before the Scorpion attack. She didn't think she was dead… or was she?

"She's breathing, barely. We need to get her out of here."

Veronica broke through the surface of the water, grasping for air as the golden rays of sunshine bathed her upturned face. She blinked against the sun's brilliance, her lungs heaving with exertion as she struggled to remain afloat over the pool's warm waters. The edge of the pool gave way to broken Hellenistic columns, the remnants of a pre-war seaside resort.

Childish laughter echoed across the water. Turning her head, Veronica saw a young grey-haired girl sitting on the pool's edge. She wore a simple blue jumpsuit, stamped with the sword and gears rather than a Vault number as the rest of the outfit suggested it once had.

"Took you long enough!" said the girl with a cheeky smile.

"I'm not used to this swimming thing Christy!" Veronica whined back, as she tried… unsuccessfully, to keep herself afloat by hopping off the pool's frustratingly close tiles.

Christine crouched by the edge of the pool, no longer a young girl, now a preteen youth, her deep blue eyes showing a mixture of amusement and tenderness.

"Don't worry, I won't let you drown!" she said and reached out to Veronica with her hand.

Christine helped Veronica up to the ledge, both laughing as the water splashed around their feet. Veroncia coughed, letting slip a bit of water which had seeped into her lungs as she panicked, only to curse when it spilled all over her neatly folded up scribe robes.

"You're hopeless," teased Christine, with a sharper teenaged voice this time around.

"Not everyone grew up near a seaside vacation resort," Veronica shot back. "What was this place anyway? Why would the pre-war military have a bunker set up here of all places?"

Christine giggled, "Would it surprise you to know it was attached to the base? Used to be a resort military personnel and their families could relax in. Brotherhood hasn't used it since the war though," her grin faltered, as she looked towards the sea. "I just thought this could be a place we could escape to, and besides, it beats swimming through the ocean's rads!"

Veronica tilted her head, usure what she meant by escape, but the other girl shook her head, plunging back into the water splashing playfully in her direction. "Catch me if you can!"

Veronica grinned and jumped after Christine; her strokes against the water clumsy at first but growing more confident as she went. Christine glanced back, her grin wide and teasing as she kicked up the water with her legs sending a spray of droplets into Veronica's face.

"Is that all you've got?" Christine called out. "And Taggart says you're so good at fixing water filtration systems! Hah! You might be the top trainee scribe, but not in this pool!"

Veronica huffled in exertion and amusement. "Give me a break! I know how to fix water purifiers; I don't swim in them! What you've built here is positively decadent!"

"Says the one who's biggest dream is to get a sexy dress!"

"Oh, now you're asking for it!" shouted Veronica, splashing a wave of water towards Christine, who squealed in mock horror and darted to cover beneath the water. Moments passed, but Christine did not resurface. Veronica's good cheer gave way to concern.

"Christine, are you… Oh!" she exclaimed as her friend pulled her down from her legs.

Veronica closed her eyes at first, until she felt a hand gently touch her cheek, rising towards her eyes, as if reassuring her she could open them. Veronica slowly did so, cautiously at first, but once she got used to it, she was startled by how close Christine's face was to hers.

The moment passed as they resurfaced for breath. "You've got to stop panicking every time you're in here," said Christine, helping her up. "You have to trust the water to hold you up."

Veronica sighed, "easy for you to say. You must be part fish, eel, or whatever!" Not that Veronica had ever seen any. Life in the oceans was too dangerous to gawk at these days.

Christine smirked, "alright, you clever girl, come here." she said, and swam to her side, gently placing her hands on her shoulders before she could react. "Now, close your eyes."

"What? Why?"

"Just… trust me on this."

Veronica reluctantly shut her eyes, her body tensing as Christine guided her hands to the water's surface. "Now lean back… and let go."

The warmth of Christine's hands steadied her as Veronica did as she was told, her muscles restless at first before relaxing into her body's natural buoyancy against the water. The sound of their splashes faded, leaving only the soft rhythm of their breaths as they became one.

Christine's hand slid to Veronica's cheek, her thumb brushing against damp locks of hair, moving them away from her face. Veronica opened her eyes, catching her breath as Christine's face hovered mere inches away to her side. The golden light reflected off her features, the teenaged girl now a young woman in full blossom, and what had been a simple set of swimwear into something far more alluring. Her strange tint of grey hair seemed almost silver beneath the light, pressed to the sides of her head by the dampness. Her smirk softened into a shy smile that was so much more vulnerable than her usual confident exterior.

Without a word, Veronica closed the gap, her lips brushing against Christine's in a kiss as fleeting and delicate as the ripples of water around them. Veronica felt her heart race as she leaned in further to bring Christine into her embrace. The world around them, the sun, the sky, the sea, and the beach faded away from her awareness until only Christine was left.

Christine pulled away from the kiss, but pressed her forehead against Veronica's, her breath warm against her skin. The gentle waves created by their movement rippled outward, distorting their reflections. Veronica gazed into Christine's face, now an adult in her twenties, who wore a mix of loving tenderness and yet something more weighted… depressed.

"This place… I truly thought it could be ours, that we could stay here forever…" murmured Christine with a tired smile. "But it's not enough, we both know it was never enough."

Veronica frowned, her heart sinking at the sudden change in Christine's demeanour. "What are you talking about? If it's about your parents, all they really want are some tykes running around, eventually. We'll work things out… they'll come around. We just need more time."

"It isn't just my parents though," Christine whispered bitterly, "I'm leaving."

Veronica blinked in shock, the words hitting her like a wave against a rock face. "What!? Why? If this is about the Mojave expedition… I won't go, not if it means leaving you!"

"That's why I must leave," said Christine with a sad smile "For my sake, and yours. "

The scene around them began to shift. The sun was gone, day replaced by night, as a great wave washed over the sandy beach they stood on, dousing everything in a thick layer of dark cold water. Only Christine stood on a small island of sand, unphased by the raging storm around them holding on to a chain. Veronica looked down to find the chain coiling around her right hand's wrist, its cold metal painfully biting into her skin the further the water carried her away. Veronica tugged at the chain, but it only tightened, while Christine stood her ground.

"Christine!" she called, but the figure standing at the water's edge was already turning away. Gone was the earlier calmness that gave her a sense of stability over the water. The chain coiled tighter around Veronica's wrist as the swirling water pulled her deeper into the ocean. Her lungs burned, desperate for air, as she clawed at the chain with her trembling hands.

"Veronica!" The voice echoed faintly at first, as if coming from miles away. She blinked, the voice pulling at the edges of her memories. It was familiar yet distorted, blending with the rushing water and her own ragged breaths.

"Stay with us!" The voice sharpened, louder now, though still dreamlike. She was no longer in the water, but somewhere else. The pressure on her chest shifted, her body jolted, and for a moment, she felt herself being lifted, carried, her skin brushing against the cold night's air.

"She's burning up. I don't know what's wrong, please help her!" shouted the gruff voice.

She blinked, her vision swimming as the blurry outline of a figure in a dirty white lab coat appeared. The room around her didn't look like much, but Veronica had seen enough Follower set-ups to recognize the place as a makeshift Freeside clinic, if more primitive.

"Set her down! Quickly! What happened?" asked the white coat.

"I don't know," said the gruff voice, his voice cracking slightly. "I thought she was recovering just fine after I pulled her out of the river, but then she started shaking and burning a fever."

"How old is that bandage? It might be the river toxins; they'd infect an open wound."

But Veronica felt her eyes flutter shut and the darkness consume her once again. Their words twisted into echoes, reverberating through her skull as the dream ended. The sensation of cold water returned, enveloping her. The chain on her wrist coiled tighter as it was joined by another, one coloured red full of thorns, both dragging her downward with renewed force.

Veronica exhaled sharply, feeling the breath return to her lungs. Her fingers were drumming against the charred casing of the burned-out Pip-Boy. The holotape slot was a melted down wreck, fused shut from whatever overload had blown out the ancient device in the first place.

"Christine?" called Veronica, as she passed through the holographic attendants, but no living face greeted her. The casino's interior was just as big as the grounds, but the elevator to the lower level was in the executive suite, right where Lisa said she'd last seen Christine.

Veronica moved deeper into the casino, her eyes scanning for anything that would produce the right charge. Behind the bar, she found an oldNuka-Cola vending machine, its power cells still functioning. She crouched down, prying open the panel beneath the dispenser.

"Hello, beautiful," she muttered, spotting the power regulator and microfusion cell inside.

Veronica never understood why the Nuka-Cola company felt the need to power each one of their dispensing machines autonomously of any power grid, but she and plenty of wastelanders were thankful for the service. She gently yanked the components free.

Elijah, now grey but still a bit younger stood above her as she worked:"Power's the root of all tech. From pre-industrial wind and water mills to the late pre-war fusion cores. No power, no tech. But in many ways, we live in the world of the windmills, since most of our power sources are rooted in failing pre-war sources. Learn to make do with what you have."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm working on it, old man." she muttered with a faint smile

Her eyes caught the sight of a nearby sound system tucked into a recessed wall as she turned the power regulator over in her hands. The speakers flanked the casino's dance floor, their grilles gleaming under the dim lighting. Veronica frowned, some of the speakers had been shot up repeatedly, but she couldn't imagine why anyone would do that other than Muzak.

She stepped closer, running her fingers over the intact more shielded speaker. It was powered down and slightly dented by ricocheting bullets, but its internals looked mostly intact.

She grinned. "Now this... this I can work with. It's a bit overdesigned for a piece of tech that's supposed to just amplify sound, but not too shabby for redundancies."

Elijah reappeared beside her as she unscrewed the front panel and spoke once again. "That's the sloppiness of pre-war tech; they mastered refinement, they didn't need to think about survival. There isn't a lot left working from the pre-war world, but we can do so much more with it. Always build for survival, Veronica. That's where we will always outpace them."

"Okey Dokey," she muttered, pulling out the speaker assembly. "You want to tell me how to repurpose it too, or just keep up the ghost act and tell me what to do, as usual?"

He didn't answer, but she could swear she saw him smirk before vanishing.

She tapped the Pip-Boy's frame. "Well then… where can I find a new Robco interface?"

Her gaze drifted to the bar, where an old pre-war terminal glowed faintly. It had been running some casino management software before the war, and it looked functional enough to house the playback functionality she needed. What was more, it was a Robco machine, though a more basic model. They still shared much of the same hardware and compatible software.

Elijah appeared again, looking close to his age just before they left California for the Mojave expedition with a thicker white beard. "Functionality isn't limited to what a device was designed for. Adaptation is survival. A terminal's processor can be a playback interface with the right modifications. The question isn'tcan it work; it'swill you make it work?"

She stood up, her jaw tightening. "Not in the codex, but you always pushed the boundaries… is that when studying technology became your idea of R ? Recover and Repurpose?"

Still, his words stuck. She pulled out the terminal's processor and adapter connections, carefully wiring them to a repurposed data port from the Pip-Boy. She rigged it together with salvaged wires and tape, creating a crude but functional external reader that could process the holotape and transmit the audio to the speaker she'd built. If the holotape still worked.

The journey into the executive suites was uneventful. There was no sign of Christine in any of the rooms, though it was clear she was using the fancier one and had slept there recently. There was nothing else for it, she'd go find Elijah first and worry about Christine later.

Veronica flipped the switch on her cobbled-together device. The power regulator hummed, the speaker crackled, and the holotape reader began to spin up. She held her breath as the room filled with static, and then, clear as day, Vera Keyes' sultry voice emerged:

* "Begin again but know when to let go." *

The sensation of cold metal against her back jolted Veronica briefly into semi awareness. The world spun, light and shadow bleeding into each other as voices rose and fell around her like distant waves overhead. The gruff voice's urgent tone was her only anchor in the storm.

Another voice joined him. "The toxins definitely caused a serious infection, and its spreading; I'll do what I can, but we may have to operate, before it's too late."

"Operate? You mean…" repeated, the voice. "You're saying there's no other way?"

The doctor glanced down at her hand, the faint light in the clinic throwing shadows across his masked features. "If the infection keeps spreading, there won't be anything left to save."

Her vision faded as she felt the doctor draw a thick dark red liquid from her hand with ridiculously large glass syringe. Was that her blood? It didn't look right, it wasn't supposed to be this black, was it? As the dream faded, she felt her mind drift through a red haze. It seemed to go on forever, but eventually, the shadows of buildings in the distance appeared ahead.

Veronica's senses slowly returned, the weight of water giving way to the weightlessness of silk sheets. The warmth of the fabric beneath her back was a stark contrast to the hard metal surface. She blinked, her vision adjusting to the dim glow of the soft, golden light spilling from the Lucky 38's ornate chandeliers. The hum of New Vegas revelry filtered in through the windows, a distant, steady rhythm that managed to sooth her tense nerves.

A hand brushed her arm, gentle but insistent. She turned her head, sighing contently as she saw Lisa lying beside her, propped up on one elbow. Like Veronica, she was naked, with only her flowing blond hair providing cover over both the scar on her face and her breasts. Lisa's fingers traced lazy patterns on Veronica's skin, her expression relaxed and thoughtful.

"Finally awake?" teased Lisa. "I thought you'd sleep forever, mind you, we both earned it."

Veronica let out a hearty laugh, "feels like we have."

Lisa shifted closer, until her chin rested on Veronica's shoulder. Her proximity was magnetic, and for a moment, the weight of all of Veronica's concerns faded into the quiet intimacy.

"I only wish I could have stayed with you all night, but the boss called me up to the penthouse. I'm losing my noggin with House," said Lisa, breaking the silence. "He's got me running in circles for some grand plan of his, but I don't see how it's supposed to help anyone. Sometimes, I think I'd be better off helping the NCR or doing things on my own."

Veronica snorted, Lisa's words pulling her out of her dreamy afterglow. "The NCR? The people you so lovingly call The Not so Competent Republic? What changed?"

Lisa shrugged, "They are just as hopeless as ever, but at least they're trying to make things better for most folks." Her hand came over her eyes as she sighed, "Maybe I'm just tired of trying to fix everyone's problems on my own. It would be nice to have some back-up."

Veronica sat up slightly, the sheets pooling around her waist. "You're not alone," she said, taking a hold of Lisa's hand. "You've got people who care about you and will follow you anywhere. People like Boone, Arcade, Raul, Cass, ED, Rex, Grandma Lilly, and…"

"And you?" asked the Courier, her lips moving into a beautiful smile.

Veronica's cheeks flushed, but she didn't look away. "Yea, and me."

Lisa squeezed her hand in gratitude, "You've been rather quiet about what you've been up to while I was exploring the Sierra Madre," observed Lisa. "What's on your mind, Vera?"

Veronica let out a dry humourless chuckle, shaking he head. "Just the usual. Trying to figure out where I fit in this mess of a world now that I don't have the Brotherhood to worry about."

"Freeside still giving you trouble? I know you like them, but if you ask me, the Kings just don't have what it takes to run things. It takes more than fancy get-ups to organize a city."

"But they're so stylish!" she protested, before shaking her head with a knowing smile; Lisa meant well, but she could get a bit too obsessed with results at times. "I've been trying to help where I can; fixing water pumps, patching up generators, but it just isn't enough."

Lisa tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. "What about the Followers in the Old Mormon Fort? Arcade said he could put in a good word for you if you asked him."

Veronica flinched, "I can't, not after what happened last time. I can't put anyone else in danger because of me, because the Brotherhood sees my knowledge as a threat to them."

Lisa moved closer, her hand reaching out to stroke Veronica's cheek. "You can't keep living on the run Veronica," she said, brushing away some hair. "Hiding in the shadow of the Brotherhood, letting their mistakes, their blindness define you… you're better than them."

Veronica shook her head, her gaze not meeting Lisa's "It's not that simple," she whispered.

"It never is," Lisa replied, her tone softening. "But you can't keep running from everyone, forever afraid for their safety. Didn't you just say I wasn't alone? Same back at you."

Lisa's lips hovered tantalizingly close to Veronica's, her breath warm against her skin. Just as Veronica leaned in to close the gap, the Courier pulled away with a teasing knowing smile.

"Not yet," she said playfully. "I've got a surprise for you."

"You're awful!" whined Veronica, but the smile tugging at her lips made the assertion rather unconvincing. "Oh, alright, what did you get me? A power coil? A less rusty screwdriver?"

"Close your eyes," said Lisa, as she turned towards her backpack.

Veronica's eyes couldn't help but dart to Lisa's retreating exposed form first, but she reluctantly obeyed as she heard the Courier ruffle through her things until she found what she was looking for. A few moments later, she felt Lisa's weight pressing back on the bed, placing something soft and delicate at the foot of her feet, before bringing her hand to her cheek.

"You can look now."

Veronica opened her eyes and looked down at the dress at her feet. It was… exquisite, a luxurious pristine black-red fabric that she could only recall seeing the look of on the Hollywood stars, singers, and other celebrity sensations of old… before the bomb fells.

Veronica's arms fell around Lisa with a squeal. "Its… beautiful! The one I always dreamed about…" she murmured, wiping away a few errant tears from her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered, as her lips fell upon Lisa's into a gentle grateful kiss.

"Well, don't just stare at it," said Lisa as they broke away. "Put it on!"

Veronica didn't need to be told twice and sprang out of bed letting the sheets fall away from her with the kind of giddy excitement she hadn't felt since Christine left. The fabric slid over her skin like water, fitting her perfectly as though it had been custom made just for her. She turned to the mirror on the wardrobe, her hands running over the fabric marvelling at how it hugged her form. The red rose over her rather exposed leg was an especially alluring asset.

Lisa appeared in the mirror close behind her, wrapping her arms around Veronica's waist while she rested her chin on her shoulder. "You look amazing," murmured Lisa, as her lips brushing against Veronica's neck, sending a shiver down her spine.

But just as Veronica leaned into the embrace, she caught the briefest hint of unease in Lisa's expression in the mirror. "What's wrong?" she asked, gently touching her cheek.

Lisa hesitated and then sighed, "There's something I need to tell you. About the Madre."

"Your journey to the Legendary Casino prospectors keep talking up like it was Atlantis?" She deadpanned but then saw that Lisa was serious. "What does it have to do with anything?"

Lisa sat down on the edge of the bed, slipping on her black night gown, and then gestured for Veronica to join her. When Veronica didn't move, the Courier pressed on.

"It's not about the Madre itself, it's about who I found there…. Christine. She was there."

"Christine?" Veronica whispered, her voice trembling. "She… she's alive?"

"She's… not the person you knew," said Lisa as a dark memory crossed over her face. "She was scarred when I met her, and what's more, she's a Brotherhood loyalty enforcer now."

"Christine… is in the Circle?" Veronica's knees nearly gave way as she sank onto the bed beside Lisa. "She went back to the Brotherhood? I thought… I thought she left us, left me."

Lisa hesitated, then pressed on. "She didn't leave. She was reassigned… by Father Elijah."

"Elijah? But that doesn't make any…" she stopped midsentence, oh but it did.

Her mentor had been so insistent on her joining him on the Mojave expedition, even though she'd been happy to stay in California, but would he stoop that low? Getting involved in personal relationships wasn't his thing. But Veronica had always been the exception.

"She should've told me," whispered Veronica, with a slight angry tremor.

Lisa shook her head, "she was after someone, a traitor to the Brotherhood."

Veronica's mind raced. She thought of the knights who had vanished, of how loyalty to the Brotherhood's creed so often trumped everything else. Hell, even she'd be in their sights now.

"Who?" she finally asked even though she already knew the answer.

"Elijah," the Courier answered after a long pause. "She was hunting down Elijah."

Veronica froze. The name hit her like a physical blow, dredging up memories of her old grandfatherly mentor figure. It had been years since she'd last seen him in the flesh.

Lisa looked away. "I found him at the Madre. He's not the man you remember either, Veronica. He's lost himself, consumed by his vision and revenge. I couldn't let him leave."

"What… did you do?" Veronica's voice broke, fearing the worst.

The Courier's expression darkened. "I sealed him in," she admitted. "It was the only way I wouldn't have to kill him. I left him with the Vault's supplies, enough to survive for decades, for your sake, but I couldn't let him out. Not after what he's done… and planned to do."

Veronica stared at her, the room seeming to tilt as her thoughts spiralled out of control. "Christine… Elijah…" she muttered, her mind a blur of faces and memories. "I have to go there. I have to see them. I have to know why… if only to get some closure so I can let go."

She expected the Courier to argue, to dissuade her, but instead, Lisa pulled her right arm until her body fell into her lap and straight into a passionate kiss as she threw her arms around her. After a few startled moments, Veronica returned the kiss with just as much passion, realising these would be their final intimate moments together for a while, joining her lover in her wish to burn this moment forever into their memories, in case it would prove to be the last.

After what felt like several minutes, Lisa broke the kiss, but not before she held Veronica's cheeks with both hands, forcing her to stare straight into her pale blue eyes.

"Promise me you'll be careful," she whispered. "Promise me you'll understand why I had to make the hard choices I've made and will have to make. For the good of Vegas. For us."

Veronica's dress began to feel heavier, its fabric no longer soft but coarse and restrictive. In the mirror's reflection, she glimpsed something she hadn't noticed before, a thin, glinting chain of rose thorns wrapped loosely around the Courier's wrist, the end snaking toward Veronica's own right hand. Her pulse quickened as the chain tightened, coiling around her wrist like a serpent. The weight dragged her hand downward, and for a moment, she couldn't tell if it was the dress, the chain, or something deeper that was the greater burden.

The room began to distort, the walls cracking until they broke letting in a torrent of waves. The water surged around her feet, cold and rising fast, dissolving the edges of the bedroom, until only Lisa's floating bed remained, with the courier gazing longingly… hungrily towards her. The soft glow of the Lucky 38 twisted into an underwater shimmer, and the hum of New Vegas dissolved into a muffled rushing sound of a long lost city cast beneath the ocean.

"Veronica!" the voice cut through the dream, faint but growing louder. The sensation of the river's current returned, tugging at her limbs, pulling her away from the Lucky 38 and deeper into the freezing water's depths. Once again, all she could feel was cold and darkness.

But then, a light… far too bright, a harsh glow that pierced through her half-lidded eyes. Veronica wasn't sure where she was, her mind felt split between moments, none of them clear. Her body ached, while her hand felt like it was on fire. Sounds filtered in and out, muffled and distant, as if they came from underwater. A voice rose, steady but edged with tension.

"The infection is spreading faster than expected… she isn't responding to the treatment."

The words drifted in and out of her awareness, as if they were about someone else. She wanted to say something, to move, but her body refused to obey.

A new sound broke through the fog, lighter, softer. "Is she going to be okay?" a small, trembling voice asked. A girl.

Her words tugged at Veronica's heart, pulling her closer to the surface of consciousness. She tried to respond, to squeeze the girl's hand, to let her know she could hear her, but she couldn't move. Her body was a lifeless weight, anchored to the operating table beneath.

"She doesn't have much time," the voice continued, closer now. "We must operate. Now."

The small hand lingered for a moment, tightening its grip before slipping away. The light overhead flickered, growing sharper, harsher, as the voices receded. Once again, all she knew was darkness, until she could gradually see a golden light emerge through the tunnel.

The elevator mechanism responded, though not with nearly the same finesse as the rest of the Madre's pristine mechanisms. The elevator doors produced a loud screeching noise as they opened revealing a rather messy collection of bent metal and exposed wiring with the lighting flicking on and off, mostly off.

"Well… Lisa did say things got a bit messy on the way out."

The elevator groaned as it began its descent, its damaged mechanisms shuddering with each passing second. The dim light overhead flickered erratically, casting distorted shadows across the walls. The air grew colder the farther she went, the polished opulence of the Sierra Madre above giving way to the sterile, foreboding atmosphere of the vault below. The hum of the machinery was constant, punctuated by the occasional jarring screech of metal against metal.

As the elevator slowed, her reflection wavered in the polished door, distorted and faint, as though the mist from below had already begun to claim her. With a final lurch, the elevator came to a stop, the doors creaking open to reveal the chaotic remains of the vault level. Veronica moved cautiously through the debris, the golden vault door gleaming faintly in the dim light at the far end of the corridor. Her eyes scanned the wreckage for a safe path, but as she almost tripped over a fallen beam, her gaze caught sight of a half-burned book.

The book bore the insignia of the Brotherhood of Steel, common of field diaries. Her fingers traced over its scorched cover before gently opening it, skipping the ruined pages until she reached the first one she could read:"Helios 1 – Unlock power potential at all costs."

Elijah's voice rose unbidden in her mind, clear as if he were standing beside her:
"This isn't just another pre-war relic. It's a treasure. A real game-changer. Securing Helios will ensure the Brotherhood's future against the NCR for decades to come, far beyond anything Hoover Dam would ever give us. What is power without something to use it for? "

She clenched her fist, the memory slicing through her mind."Hoover Dam. That was our original the moment we got to Helios, you just couldn't let it go."

Moving further in, she found a batteredT-51 Brotherhood helmet, battered and scorched, but not just by the explosions which had unfolded here recently, but by far older battle damage. She hesitated before picking it up, its weight heavier than it should have been. The sight dragged her back to her first memories of Hidden Valley, where she'd arrived too late.

McNamara's voice came to her, grim but resolute: "Elijah ordered us to hold Helios. We were outnumbered 20 to 1. By the time we pulled back... only about a third of us were still alive."

Her knuckles whitened as she gripped the helmet. She could still see the faces of the few survivors, their hollow eyes and broken spirits. Elijah's ambition had almost destroyed them, and yet he'd disappeared without a trace, leaving her to pick up the pieces.

At last, she stumbled upon aterminal positioned just before the vault's doors, its screen cracked but still flickering faintly. She activated it, scanning the logs until she found a message marked with her name. Her heart sank as she read the familiar words once again:

"Veronica, wait for my return. The Brotherhood's decay cannot be stopped by those who cling to the codex and the past. I will return to cleanse the Mojave, to bring about our rebirth. We will wipe the slate clean and start anew. This is not the end; it is only the beginning."

The red cloud of the Madre slowly started to rise through the hinges of the vault door, tendrils of toxic mist coiling around Veronica like a living thing. It clung to her, heavy and suffocating, forcing its way into her lungs even as she put her gas mask back on. She coughed violently, her knees buckling as the world tilted. The vault's golden surface rippled and blurred, fading into an indistinct haze. She fell, or at least she thought she did. The sensation of weightlessness consumed her, yet she felt pinned down, trapped beneath the oppressive weight of the red mist. The glow of the Madre warped into sterile light, the hum of its machinery replaced by the faint clatter of metal on metal and a white light overhead.

Elijah's voice echoed from within, soft at first, like a father's gentle reassurance."You've always understood, Veronica. You're different, smarter, braver. You saw what the others couldn't. Of all the ones I trained, only you understood how the pieces fit together."

Her fingers twitched toward the controls, drawn by the familiar warmth of his voice, the memory of a mentor who had once guided her, inspired her, and had been like a grandfather to her. But as the voice grew sharper, the warmth turned into something colder, harder.

"Together, we can make the Brotherhood strong again. We can save it, rebuild it the way it was meant to be. We will no longer have to scurry and run from those NCR rats."

Suddenly, a fiery, molten chain shot out from the vault's door, its links glowing red-hot, the metal cracking and hissing. The links were massive, their weight felt upon her flesh even before they touched her. They slammed into her right-hand wrist with a heavy thud, binding her in place. She staggered under the weight of the blow, the heat searing her skin.

Elijah's voice surged again, more urgent now, demanding:"You know this is the only way forward for us, Veronica. You've always known. Don't let their weakness hold you back."

The red mist thickened, spiralling around her as she leaned in, her fingers brushing the control panel. With a deafening clang, the elevator's doors slammed open, the force of it sending a shockwave through the room. Veronica stumbled back, the chain around her wrist jerking violently as though trying to pull her forward. A woman stormed in, her face bristling with cuts and patches while her eyes burned with emotion as she took in the scene.

"Veronica!" Vera Keye's voice broke through the haze even though it wasn't Vera Keyes who spoke. "Don't listen to him. You're not his tool, his pawn to realise his twisted vision!"

"Christine? Is that really you? I heard you'd been hurt, but…" This wasn't the Christine she'd remembered; everything had been altered or butchered, apart from her eyes.

Another chain materialized, this one from Christine's hand, shimmering faintly with a cold blue light. It reached out and nestled around Elijah's chain, pulling her closer to Christine. Unlike the fiery chain, this one was heavy but not searing, its weight a familiar longing.

Christine's voice softened, her expression pleading. "Come back with me, Veronica. The Brotherhood isn't beyond saving. You can still rejoin it, don't become a traitor like him!"

The red mist coiled tighter, and Elijah's voice boomed, louder than ever. "The Brotherhood is dead! It's a hollow shell of armour clinging to a failed past. You know this. You'veseenit!"

Christine's grip on the chain tightened as her hand reached out to Veronica. "You're more than what he thinks you are. You are loyal, honourable, and kind. Come back with me."

The two chains pulled in opposite directions, their weight nearly dragging Veronica to her knees. Her breathing quickened under the strain, her chest tightening as the red mist swirled violently around her. From above, a faint whirring noise screeched through her thoughts. A shadow descended swiftly over the vault floor, a lone figure lowering herself from a rope.

Her smirk was sharp, almost predatory, a stark contrast to Christine's grief-stricken gaze and Elijah's faceless yet looming intensity. Lisa's eyes locked on Veronica, her expression softening slightly as she approached, her hand outstretched holding onto a red rose.

"Vera," said Lisa, her voice low, the nickname rolling off her tongue. "Haven't you given them enough of your life? How long are you going to let them chain you to their creeds?"

The red rose stretched outwards in a red-green chain, wrapping itself around Veronica's right hand like a vine, as it tried to choke out the other two while the thorns cut into her skin.

"You deserve better than this. Better than their burdens, their rules, their expectations," declared the Courier. "I can give you freedom, Vera! A life where you can finally live for yourself and for others. Isn't that what you've always wanted? To be useful to this world?"

Elijah's voice boomed, his presence growing darker as his molten chain flared with heat."Freedom? From what? You offer nothing but selfish carnal indulgence Courier Six! Veronica's brilliance, her purpose, would wither under your so-called freedoms."

"And what does love mean to you, Courier?" asked Christine, glaring at Lisa. "You gave her Vera Keyes's dress, you even call herVera, or didn't you notice? Just like Saintclair did!"

Lisa's smirk faltered, replaced by a flicker of something unreadable, defensiveness, perhaps, or even guilt. "I'm nothing like Saintclair," the Courier snapped, her voice cutting through the vault. She turned back to Veronica, her tone softening again. "You know me, Vera… Veronica. I've only ever wanted you to be free, from him, from her, from them, from all of this, to be with me. They never let you live for yourself. I'm the only one who gave you that."

Christine stepped closer, her voice rising in anguish. "Is this what love looks like? Destruction and pain? Look around you, Veronica! She destroyed everything you cared about or once cared about. Or don't you remember what happened at Hidden Valley?"

The air grew heavier as the faint outlines of figures began to materialize in the mist. Holograms flickered to life, their faces solemn, their eyes empty and accusatory, but these were not the Madre's staff. The dead members of the Mojave Chapter stared silently, their forms shimmering and indistinct. Their voices whispering faintly in broken fragments.

"You left us."
"We trusted you!"
"Why did you betray us?"

Veronica's heart clenched seeing the faces of the people who had been her family, the people she'd lost. Their accusations hung in the air like the weight of the chains now binding her.

Christine gestured to the holograms, her voice shaking. "This is what she's wrought. This is her love, her freedom. Is this the life you want? A path paved in Power Armour helmets?"

The Courier's jaw tightened, as the Rose's thorns sunk deep into Veronica's skin until they drew blood. "I did what I had to do. The Brotherhood was never going to let us rebuild the wasteland in peace. Destroying it was the only way for forward, for Vegas, and for Veronica."

The vault trembled, its ornate carvings distorting under the weight of the conflict. The chains around Veronica pulled tighter, each one dragging her in a different direction. The dead whispered louder, their voices rising to a crescendo. Veronica fell to her knees under the weight of the chains of their demands; her breath shallow as she tried to stand up.

Her hands trembled against the floor, useless, utterly useless.

"What do I do? How do I know who to trust?"

The vault's ceiling suddenly erupted into a fiery explosion of sunlight. Shards of stone and golden metal scattered around her, while hole above revealed an an inverted vision of two untouched cities divided by a bridge over a clean water river.

Two familiar figures slowly emerged from the light, each holding out a hand.

Powder's voice broke through first, "Please come back! We need you!"

Her small figure reached out towards Veronica, the plea raw and desperate. Beside her, Violet stood firm and yet with tears in her eyes, though she said nothing, she didn't have to.

Veronica reached out to the girls, and felt her body rise up in the air drawing closer and closer to their hands, but not close enough. The chains around her pulled tighter, their opposing forces combining to keep her still, as if now working together to prevent her from leaving.

"Don't you dare turn your back on me, Veronica!" Shouted Elijah. "You're throwing away everything we built, everything I taught you!"

Veronica gritted her teeth as she pulled away at the chain. "I will always remember what you taught me, especially in a world full of strange technology, but I won't follow you into madness. This is a new world Elijah, free of the burdens of our own. It's time to let go."

The fiery chain glowed brighter, then snapped in a blinding explosion, banishing Elija's voice with a raging scream. The red mist retreated behind the vault, fading into nothingness.

Christine's chain tugged at her next, its cold weight heavy with grief and regret. "You don't have to let go completely," Christine pleaded. "The Brotherhood is your family."

Veronica's heart twisted, the memories of her life as a Scribe flickering like dying embers. "I can't save the Brotherhood, Christine," she said softly. "It was always bigger than us."

The chain shuddered, the blue light dimming before it shattered with a mournful echo. Christine's form dissolved into the air, her presence fading like a ghost into the past.

The vines of thorns and roses kept on pulling, drawing her closer towards Lisa. The courier's confident smirk was intact, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of doubt as the others fell.

"You're free because of me," said the Courier. "I gave you the chance to live for yourself. I always loved you for who you are… not for what you were, the only one who ever did."

"You're right," she admitted after a moment's silence. "I am free because of you, free of both the burdens of loyalty and the bonds of love to my old life and the people I cared about, all apart from you. It was always about you Lisa, and while I did once love you for it, I could never be free so long as you continued to make my decisions for me."

The green vine wilted and died, the thorny decomposing onto the ground. The Courier's smirk faltered as her face dissolved, vanishing into the shadows without another word.

Freed from the chains, Veronica continued her rise, her breath heaving as the oppressive weight vanished. The inverted skyline above twisted, flipping upright as gravity seemed to reverse itself. The vibrant glow of Zaun's lights stretched infinitely in all directions as she fell down to earth. Veronica flailed, reaching out instinctively for anything she could get a grip on, but there was nothing to hold onto in the sky around her, no chains, no vault, no past.

"We operated just in time, a few minutes longer, and we would've lost her."

"But the cost…"

"We managed to save the nerve endings. All she needs now is a decent mechanic."

Notes: I've had a rough draft of this chapter for a while, but I didn't know if to publish, fold parts of it into the next chapter, or cut it completely. This put the story into a bit of a limbo while I worked on other things. I still think it is in a sense a detour from the story I've been telling so far, and perhaps an unnecessary one at that, but I thought it was important to ground Veronica's past in the Fallout universe before moving on to her new life in Zaun.

I apologise if I missed any typos or other standards of quality I've tried to keep up with in previous chapters. I went back to this in a bit of a hurry to get something out sooner rather than later, though it did get a few rounds of some rather extensive editing. Some scenes got repositioned in ways that made previously seamless transitions a bit rougher, but I like the edited work more so than what it was before, even if I am not fully satisfied with it.

Next chapter also exists in draft form, and I am much happier with it than I am with this one. I am not sure when it will be out, but as it is the end of the first act of the story (Veronica's arrival act in Zaun) I will try to get it done sooner rather than later. Things will get a bit slower after that, as I am still working on plotting out where the story aims to go next. I know what I want to do rather well at this point, I am just not entirely sure how to do it well.

Thanks for reading!

Umbradius.

PS: (*) Symbol means its text directly taken from New Vegas/Arcane

Disclaimer: I don't own either the League of Legends or Fallout franchises and their associated products (Arcane & Fallout: New Vegas) or songs.