Let Nothing Fall to Chance

by Chronicler of Unseen Stars

Years have passed since the liberation of New Vegas, and the Courier's itching for a new adventure. Duty has bound him to Big MT and the Mojave, unwilling to let either out of his sight. When a certain satellite goes missing, Six leaps at the chance to break free from his prison. But he gets more than he bargains for and trades one wasteland for another. Crossposted on AO3.

10. Crimson Colored Skies

Chapter 10: Crimson Colored Skies

Date: September 28th, 2289

Location: Eastern Colorado, Earth

Colorado. This state has been known for many things before the Great War. Its indigenous tribes. The Rocky Mountains and Great Plains. Tiny schools and sparse populations. The goddamned Dust Bowl. And having the misfortune of being within the Tornado Alley. But that was all in the past.

Maybe it didn't hold as much strategic value to the US military but certainly does hold some value to Caesar's Legion. 87 tribes united under a single brutal banner. Most people wouldn't dare to cross the Legion these days. But very few people know about the issues that plague its overlord.

Rumor has it that great Caesar has fallen ill. Or did he just lose his marbles? Whatever the case, there is a clear decline in the Legion's order. While Caesar has already chosen a potential successor, there is doubt surrounding them. Lanius may be the Legion's most infamous warrior, but he isn't exactly known for being a tactician or carrying a silver tongue. Some parties saw that as an opening to exploit. This group was among those ambitious parties.

Most people think of Raiders as dumb brutes at best. At worst the average wastelander would call them vultures, opportunists. This particular band of raiders delved into an avenue often overlooked by their fellow barbarians; technology. Robotics, to be precise. They called themselves the Rust Devils, and they were expanding.

Okay, maybe they weren't the 'originals' per se. This gang considered themselves more akin to rebellious children of the parent organization. Someone approached them for aid in a little project of theirs. A project that would bring about technology the likes of which the world had never seen. Most of the bandit chieftains laughed at the prospect, thought that the messenger was high on Jet. Most raiders were these days.

Some souls saw potential in this alliance. The Rust Devils were crafty engineers, but they could only make do with what the wasteland provided them. The idea of wielding Brotherhood-level gear was rather enticing. Of course, there was the possibility that this mysterious 'project' could fail, or even turn out to be a giant hoax. But they still have their guns and robots. If their benefactor got any funny ideas, they could always disintegrate them.

And thus the Iron Devils were born. Jigsaw was the leader of course. He was as good with computers as he was with explosives and chems. His wife Millicent- or Milly for short- was the main muscle of the group. If something had to be welded together, stabbed, smashed, or punched, she was your woman. Then there was Bronte, their mentor and the eldest of the group. Being a Ghoul with nimble hands certainly had its perks. And finally, there was their liaison and smooth talker, Omar. He had connections to some… labor guilds.

Milly-clad in desert-camo heavy combat armor- was leading a squad of Iron Devils through the Colorado wastelands back to Pluto. Her sapphire eyes scanned the environment for any potential loot or ambushes. While the benefactors were gracious enough to give her this armor and scatter-laser, they still had to salvage for tech and scrap. For the project and for their own raids.

The majority of the band knew little of the benefactors' plans. Their leadership naturally was given some insight into their operations. Jigsaw had access to some sort of teleporter, supposedly developed by boogeymen out east. He would hop from coast to coast with it, bringing back supplies for their employers. But he had caught something during one raid. Some type of rock was growing out of his skin. Many raiders had been whispering rumors behind their backs about it. Some of them believed it was some mythological disease from the eastern mountains.

Regardless of its origins, it put a strain on the two's relationship. Before his infection, they'd partied like hell after each raid. Nowadays he was rarely-if ever- in the mood to spend time with her. Having rocks burst outta your skin would make anybody a tetchy asshole of course, but still… This was her husband. The same man that reduced a Legion Vexilliarii to a paraplegic and made him crawl back to his camp. To see him devolve to some trigger-happy recluse…

She snarled. Her mind turned to the resources they funneled into this job. Slaves, tech, robots, recruits, blood, sweat, tears. They could've been used to build their own empire, something that could compete with the Van Graffs or the Legion even. Instead, they and Jigsaw were rushed to the bottom of Pluto's belly for God knows what. This 'Project Hecate' had better be worth it.

Finally, they arrived at the hideout. Pluto Mine. Home sweet home… and yet something felt off when they arrived. The first thing that stuck out was the dead Legionary. He was still breathing last time she checked. Now he had a hole between his eyes. Bronte approached the corpse and examined it.

".308 bullet," he said. "Standard issue for snipers 'round here. But who the hell snipes at close quarters?"

That was a good question. Milly led the party inside and walked down the old mine. Long ago these veins bled out limestone. Now they were as dry as the wasteland outside. The raiders were careful with their steps, trying not to set off their own mines. But they never encountered any of them. Now she was starting to get concerned. She pulled up her handheld radio and tried to contact Jigsaw.

"Jigsaw, this is your honeybun. Do you read me?"

Nothing. Not even static. She walked over to the elevator and pulled out a jet-black keycard. One by one they inspected the rooms. The second level of the mine? Littered with dead dogs and robot wreckage. The depleted mine that Bronte spent weeks filling with Ferals? It had been turned into their grave. At least the Power Armor was still there. That was a gift from her hubby (and to a lesser extent his bosses).

The office? Well, the Robobrians were still rolling around at least. The raiders kept their distance from them of course. That was one breed of robot they hadn't managed to reprogram yet. Thus far in her search, she noticed something else amiss. Some miscellaneous items had vanished into thin air. Sinks, toilets, radios, chairs, tables, crates. Stuff that's either bolted into the area or just ignored by most wastelanders. Where the hell did they all go?

There was one more location they wanted to check out, but they had to put on some gas masks first. Jigsaw wasn't the first person to be infected with the rock disease. That honor belonged to their servants. It was funny watching them turning into living crystals at first, but then the plague jumped to fellow raiders. It was at that point that they realized they needed proper protection. Using masks alone probably wasn't as good as hazmats, but they were damn rare in this region.

The elevator dinged and revealed a massive tunnel. This was filled to the brim with robots and 'indentured servants'. Milly smiled and approached one of the workers.

"Where's Jigsaw?" she asked a slave.

They turned to face her and shrugged. She sneered as they went back to work and drew out her scatter laser. She disintegrated them on the spot.

"I'll ask again; where's Jigsaw?" She repeated, this time on the verge of bellowing.

Nobody answered. She pointed her laser gun at another slave but Bronte placed a hand on it.

"Woah there, Artemis," the Ghoul cautioned. "You know how much caps and blood we paid for good labor?"

She scowled at him for a bit, then that frown faded. She signed and sheathed her weapon. He was right. It was hard to find able-bodied wastelanders to slap Slave Collars onto. Even more so to find any slaver willing to sell their product to them. The Legion drove or killed off most of the competition when they came to Colorado, and they can be picky with who they do business. The few independent slavers who survived were forced into hiding and charged hefty prices for their products.

One of the Protectrons on treadmills approached them. "Lord Jigsaw recently returned with a large bounty of technology," it revealed. "The last I heard, he was integrating it into Hecate. Although…"

Milly's brows furrowed. "Although what?" she asked.

"My sensors detected a breach yesterday. Jigsaw reported that several Eyebots and Feral Ghouls had been slain by some intruders. Lord Jigsaw was disposing of them himself when the power on this floor failed. After it came back online, I noticed some items were missing. Indentured servants, fellow bots, tools, even lights. I've been trying to page Lord Jigsaw but he never responded."

She motioned for her crew to follow her back to the elevator. She gave Bronte a look that said 'do it'. The Ghoul nodded and drew out a crimson keycard. As soon as he inserted it into the reader, the gears above them awoke with a groan. The elevator began its long descent to the bottom.

This place was a gold mine of that black ore. At least a dozen tunnels were still filled to the brim with it. Several more were dedicated to housing their 'labor force' and a couple of labs. Two more housed bunkers for the actual raiders themselves. All locked away behind via a color-coded keycard of course. Milly didn't know whether to kiss the bastards that designed this system or kill them. At last, they reached the bottom of the well.

The first thing to greet them was a metal hallway with glass windows and sprinklers. The windows in turn revealed several terminals and desks. Two giant doors stood between them and her beloved Jigsaw. From the looks of things, this was a decontamination chamber. She looked at Bronte for an explanation (or rather a confirmation). The Ghoul could sense this.

"The original owners of the mine set this up after their first encounter with the local affliction," he explained. "They thought they could cure it. All they could do was numb out the pain. Everybody still got their masks?"

The smoothskins nodded. "Good, because I'd rather not have to pick that ore outta your bodies too."

As soon as the gas masks came on the man approached the twin doors. The first thing that caught his attention was the dents on it. Something big must've been punching it before they got here. Milly swallowed at the sight. Did some Mutant fight their way down here?

The Ghoul slid a card on a reader to the side and the doors slid open. Nobody knew what they would find on the other side. Jigsaw screeching and shooing them away? An army of Super Mutants? A giant robot? Little green men? Their answer came to them as the metal barriers slid out of existence.

It was a complete mess. There were slabs of rocks everywhere. Some of them were that weird-ass ore, the rest your typical boulders and stalactites. There was also salvage and tech lying around, though none that Milly recognized. She looked up to see a massive hole in the ceiling, allowing water to pour into the cavern. It was then she realized that there was a lake right under them. The ground they were treading was on a miniature island. From where she was standing, though, it may as well be a moat. She also picked up a strange smell from the water. It smelled like…? Salt? That can't be right.

The thing that stood out was the massive obelisk on her left. Or rather, the remains of one. It appeared to be made of the same material as the stuff that they were mining. The stuff that infected Jigsaw. There was a blood-red haze rising from its rubble. Surrounding it were stalagmites of the same mineral, yet they gave off a lime-green color. There was also the wreck of… some type of machine beside it.

Bronte approached the mystery object and fell to his knees. "My work…" he said. "The bloody satellite's ruined!"

"Satelite?" Milly asked.

The man rose back onto his feet and nodded. "Jigsaw recently stole a crashed satellite from a drive-in theater. Our benefactors thought we could use it to enhance our teleporters. I attached it to the relay node here just before I went out with y'all."

"So the rumors are true then? My hubby really had a teleporter?"

"Yep, and this is all that's left of it now."

Now he was snarling, hands stretched out like claws. For a moment his pals thought he had finally gone feral. Milly wasn't too concerned about that, though. She was more interested in all the bloodstains scattered around. Her eyes caught a glint as she inspected them. She followed it and found something familiar. Something that shook her to the core. There, covered in blood, were a ring and the fragments of a missile launcher. She knelt down and cleaned it off, revealing an engraving on it; Jigsaw.

She just stood there, unable -or rather refusing- to process the situation. She broke down into tears, then laughter, then a twisted mix of the two. She screamed and bellowed, cursing the world and slamming her fists repeatedly into the boulders. A withered hand fell on her shoulder.

"This can't be happening…" she whispered.

"Milly…"

"Don't you dare say it!" she snapped. "He's alive! He has to be!"

She pointed at the bloodstains. "Look, see? There's nothing under all that shit! No bone, no armor, no fucking bo-!"

A screech interrupted their moment. Everybody looked up to see Feral Ghouls dropping in from the opening. Some of them fell into the water, others landed on all fours. They all converged on the raiders.

"The fuck did they come from?!" asked a marauder.

Everyone looked at Bronte. He shrugged. "Hey, my lures aren't that strong," he retorted. "Must be a wandering pack."

"Who the hell cares?" shouted Milly. "Just shot!"

From there on out, hell broke loose. Bronte and Milly made it to the highest platform, wherein stood the ruined frame of a computer. Milly took out her scatter-laser and disintegrated any Feral Ghouls that lunged at her. While Ferals generally ignored their more rational cousins, that didn't give Bronte an excuse to sit idly by and watch them tear his crew apart. He lashed out with a recharger rifle, often aiming for the legs.

One of the raiders got thrown into the Obelisk by a Reaver. While the wind was knocked out of him, something grabbed him from behind. At first, he thought it was one of the monsters, but no. It was… the obelisk? A pair of tendrils were dragging him toward the monument. No, into the monument. It was absorbing him! The raider screamed at the top of his lungs, drawing the attention of Ghoul and man alike.

The Reaver from before was more interested in finishing him off. It lunged at him, but two more tendrils caught it. The beast howled and crawled at the obsidian extensions as they dragged it into its mass. The raider and Feral were both petrified-or was it 'calcified'?- by mucus-yellow energy. Their last moments- their agony and cries for help- were immortalized in obsidian for all to see. Yet those close by heard whispers. Whispers that just added the obelisk's victims to their chorus.

Then something strange happened. All of the mysterious ore in the cave started to take on a strange glow. A sort of atomic or sickening lime green. Soon the Obelisk took on the same hue and a pillar of light burst out from its remains. Then the light show took on a blood-red and unleashed a shockwave. All of the combatants- human and Ghoul- lost consciousness when it struck them.

---

Milly's log. October 1st, 2289

It's been days since the shitshow at Pluto's mine, and already I'm beginning to question my sanity. My crew and I unearthed this obelisk or totem or some shit. One minute we're fighting for our lives in an underground cave, the next… we're back out in the wasteland. Bronte said that it was some type of teleporter before shit the fan. Where exactly it sent us, I have no fucking clue. All we know is that there's seemingly a second moon up in the sky. Yeah, another moon. Everybody thought we were tripping, but so far it hasn't vanished. Maybe it's some Pre-War space station or something. I dunno.

It doesn't look like we were the first ones that got zapped by that thing. We've stumbled across some bodies and chassis, all of them from our gang. And we weren't the only passengers on the recent voyage either. Some Feral Ghouls followed us through and managed to tear through some of our buddies. We drove them up North towards this dump of a ruin but…

Jigsaw's missing. I found his ring among some bloodied rubble. His body was nowhere to be found, though. Either he got teleported somewhere or he was crushed under the rubble. Actually, scratch the latter scenario. There would've been a body to bury in that case.

We've only got like… what, over a dozen or two bodies and some refurbished robots? Between the strangers that trashed our hideout and the Ferals… morale hasn't exactly been high. So bad that some assholes tried to stage a coup against me. You can guess how that worked out for them. But the weirdest part of our time here was the locals. Dear God, the locals…

They're mutants. They've got animal ears, horns, hell even devilish tails. There's an entire village of them out west. Primitive, no signs of firearms or any tech at all. A pack of devils came by here sniffing around. Heavily armored, wielded nothing but swords and crossbows. Crossbows!

And the weirdest thing? They've been channeling blasts of black energy at it. Didn't feel like your usual Energy Weapons at all. Nothing like lasers or plasma. They were using these staves and little wands like some Grognak The Barbarian nerds. Luckily they weren't immune to lasers and bullets. Lost a couple of guys, though. We took a look at their energy weapons - if you can call them that- and what do we find?

That fucking black ore. The same stuff from our mines. The same stuff that infected Jigsaw. Somehow they managed to channel the energy inside into a focused blast. Other times, as incendiaries or even cryo shots. What the hell is this, some magic show!?

Still, these muties aren't cavemen. We've found evidence of a battle all over these ruins. Hell, we even dug up this bunker at the northern end of the area. Perfect place for us to set up shop while we gather intel on our surroundings. One of our scouts reported seeing crops in the village too. Could be worth a raid. Maybe we can even recruit some of the locals. They might know something about this super ore. If not, well…

We can always let off some steam and make something outta their bones.

---

Date: October 1st, 1099

Location: Kazdel

Time: 4:36 PM

To say that Magallan was having a bad way was putting it mildly. First, she lost all of her drones on this mission to some unknown parties. Then one of them captured her in uncharted territory and dragged her to some hidden bunker. And now their leader was beating the living shit out of her. All while demanding answers she couldn't give. Well, maybe a couple.

Turns out the chieftess' lover was infected with Oripathy. Explaining it to her had been… exhausting, to say the least. It's clear that they had little understanding of originium, seeing it only as a mystery ore. They also didn't know anything about Arts either. Hell, they couldn't comprehend the very concept of it. One of the raiders likened it to witchcraft or science fiction when she tried explaining it to them.

But they weren't just in the dark about originium and the industry. They had no intel on the world period. They didn't know they were in Kazdel or the civil war that occurred there. They knew nothing about the world beyond these ruins. Technology, politics, religion, medicine, science. They never even heard of fellow raider gangs like the Rusthammers.

The bandit chieftess and her zombie-like friend- A 'Ghoul' according to them- had their eyes on her as she tried to explain everything. She couldn't see the woman's expression behind that helm, but the ghoul's was clear. They were fish out of water and well over their heads. They certainly weren't making much sense with her either. Atom bombs? Mutants? Caesar's Legion? Great Khans? Brotherhood of Steel? She never heard of such things. And each shake of her head just riled up the mechanized warrior more and more.

"My fucking god, at least tell me which fucking state we're in!" the chieftess bellowed. "Arizona? Texas? West Virginia? Alaska? Wyoming? Nevada!?"

Magallan shook her battered skull again. She already received a black eye during the interrogation, courtesy of the bitch's servos. One of her shoulders had already been dislocated and her back hurt like hellfire. But she endured worse than this.

"I don't know what to say, honestly," she replied. "You might not be in 'America' anymore as far as I'm concerned."

The servos in the raider's armor balled up. Everybody could feel the anger- the fury- bubbling from underneath it. She was about to punch the Liberi again when two egg-shaped robots walked into the room. One of them had a worn teal paintjob. The other was stripped to its endo-skeleton and had all of its armor replaced with scrap. The pieces around its central processor in particular looked like the maw of some monster. The woman turned around to face them.

"Report," she commanded with a stern tone.

"One of our eyebots has spotted an unidentified aircraft at the mutant village," reported the Protectron scourge.

"Unidentified? You mean it's not a Vertibird?"

"Correct. No weapons have been detected either. They have, however, reported seeing medical supplies within and near it. Shall we procure them?"

The woman paused. Magallan held her breath. She knew exactly what the tincan was talking about.

"How many guards are at the village?"

"At least ten, four of which are stationed at watchtowers. All armed with bows and arrows. The other units carry a variety of different melee weapons. Shall we dispatch a strike force?"

The woman paused again, processing the information. Everyone could feel the gears turning behind that welding mask.

"None of those weird wands or staffs?" she asked.

"None that their optics have detected."

Milly grinned under her helm. "Been a while since we've had a good raid," she said. "I'll take a team with me while the rest of you defend the base. Tell the eyebots to wait for us before they start firing. What's the status of the Ferals, Zig?"

"Mr. Rot's.. Cousins.. Twice removed.. Are still.. Skulking.. Around the.. Ruins.. Up north," Stuttered the teal robot. "They appear.. To be.. Settling.. Down.. For the. Moment."

The Ghoul scowled at the egg-shaped robot.

"Boom! Roasted."

The raider sighed. The Protectron scourge raised one of its servos up.

"What about her companions?" it inquired, pointing at Magallan. "They are still an unknown variable."

"We already have eyes on them. And if they find our hideout, we've got a couple of guard bots at the front door. If you're that worried, you can join them if you want. Me? I've got a date with free loot. Zig, you and the stay here with the cunt and Bronte. I'll send an extra hand down here to help the old man with..."

She glanced at Castle-3's chassis. "Whatever the fuck that is. Try to dig up some info on her buddies while I'm gone."

"Of course.. Queen in.. Rags," uttered the other robot.

The raider and the scrapheap walked out of the room. Bronte crossed his arms and leaned against a wall with a grunt.

"Remind me why the hell I gave that tincan an Insult Bot personality matrix," Magallan heard him grumble.

"Because you.. Lot.. Do not.. Have.. A sense of.. Humor," replied the robot in question.

Bronte growled, cursing the drone's audio receptors. "Nobody asked you, Robby," he hissed.

"Ha. Ha. Ha. Finally. A wisecrack.. From somebody.. With.. Thick skin."

Bronte just clasped his fingers on the bridges and sighed.

---

Date: October 3rd, 1099

Location: Chernoberg core city

Time: 12 PM

Three hours. Three hours of wandering through an underground labyrinth. Three hours cooped up with an alien assassin that had the potential to mess with your VATS and Perception. Three hours of listening to meteors and storms bombard the city above. At least said assassin was willing to pass the time with the occasional banter or conversation, though. At least he had company to keep him sane and on his toes.

"[Intelligence 8] How the hell did they manage to keep the buildings from collapsing while the city moved?" Six asked. "Actually scratch that, how did the people keep their insides inside, or at least maintain their ground and you know…. Not fly off the platform?"

"Probably with originium," Lyudmila suggested. "Artificial gravity? A force field to keep out the elements? You can do all sorts of things with Arts these days."

Six raised his finger to argue, but he lowered it back down. He'd seen plenty of zany shit that made him pull his hair at Big MT. He wasn't surprised to see logic-defying forces here either. On the surface, her theories sounded plausible. A barrier would keep out the wind, and gravity can be grounded, warped, or bent. But the details also matter. That's where the devil is after all. His brain would burn out just trying to piece the logistics together, so he dropped it.

Their trip underground wasn't entirely uneventful. They have come across old subway stations and garages and helped themselves to some loot. Fought off some fauna that decided to make nests in this necropolis too. ROUSes called gnawbeasts, and the bat-like vesperwings.

No mercs so far, though. Six kept glancing back at his Pip-boy's RADIO tab, but all he got was silence. He didn't know whether to be relieved or concerned.

Eventually, they came across a bunker door covered in cobwebs and rust. Lyudmila and Six each tried to pry it open but neither of them was strong enough. A joint effort was just as fruitless. ED-E tried blasting it with his laser afterward. No effect. Then Lyudmila tried phasing through it but she got thrown back. There was a brief flicker of crimson light as she rose back onto her feet.

"Of course, they threw an Arts field over it," she growled.

Six put a hand on his armored chin. He ruffled his other one around in his bag and took out a bottle of Buffout. He could pop a tablet and try to turn the handle again. But then again, there was the risk of addiction. While he technically had Addictol and Fixit to cure that, he still hadn't figured out how to manufacture either chem. And there weren't any doctors with the knowledge to cure potential addictions either.

He slipped the chem back into his bag and examined the area. He noticed a device attached to the right side of the door and examined it. It appeared to be a card reader. He looked at Lyudmila and pointed at the machine. She shook her head. He sighed and examined the next side.

There was a hole in the wall, large enough for him to put a hand through. He peered inside to see something resembling a fallout shelter. Bunk beds, a sink, miniature refrigerators, a coffee table, stockpiles of canned food, bookshelves, and even a desktop computer. It had a rather luxurious design to boot.

And standing on the other side were two goons in a conversation. He softly shushed ED-E and Lyudmila and leaned his ear against the wall. One of them was a sniper with three black dots and a yellow circle on his helm. The other was a figure with a gas mask and cloak. They didn't look like the same type of mercenaries he fought against earlier. Another faction, or just another squad from the same guild?

"Been a while since we heard from Epsilon," noted the sniper.

"They'll be fine," assured the gas-masked cloak. "It's just the Catastrophe jamming the comms again."

"Didn't some scavs roll up on them before we lost contact?"

"I think it was just an infestation. Whatever the issue was, I'm sure they handled it."

"But what about the earthquakes?"

"Earthquakes?"

"Uh, yeah. Catastrophes can pop up as those too. What if Epsilon got buried in those?"

"Then that means bigger paychecks for us. Speaking of which, what do you plan on doing with yours when this is all over?"

"A vacation to Dossoles, man. If the pay's good enough, maybe even a permanent residence there."

"Really? Why there and not, say, Siesta?"

"Haven't you heard? That place had to convert itself into a Nomadic City after their volcano erupted. Columbia and Victoria have been breathing down those milkdrinkers' necks since. Dossoles might be the capital of Bolivar, but none of the major factions there dare lay siege to it. Not when it's the black heart of the country's economy. It's a safe haven for real badasses."

Six pulled away from the hole and contemplated the best course of action. He could slip a grenade through the gap, but there wasn't any guarantee that the blast would kill 'em both. Even if it did, there was the risk of alerting their friends. Not to mention the potential to collapse the pathway's ceiling. He looked back at Lyudmila.

"Think they can open this from their side?" he asked her.

"Probably," she guessed. "Why? You gonna knock on the door?"

"Something like that. Switch places with me. I'll lure them out while you pounce on them."

She nodded and did as told. Six took out a holotape from his backpack and inserted it into his Pipboy. It was another album, this one composed and sold by Mr. New Vegas. And the song that he chose to play was Happy Times. The door swung open and both guards came rushing out to see him. Both of them were surprised when they saw him. Even more so when he dared to wave at them.

"Howdy," he said with a smirk under his helm.

"Who the fuck are you and where the fu-" was all the sniper could say before Lyudmila sprung their trap.

The first mook had his spine severed by the girl's knife, instantly killing him. The cloaked one yelped as ED-E fired a laser at him. As soon as the laser struck, the man began glowing in a light that seemed to be frozen now. Six raised an eyebrow at the sight. He was even more perplexed by the moving rectangle on his motion tracker. Either it was glitching or-

A slash flew across his back. The Courier grunted in pain as he saw the faint outlines of the merc. The bastard shimmered in the dim light, rippling like water. He growled and fired back, but all of his shots sailed through the silhouette. Just as it closed in on him, though, he heard another slash. It was Lyudmila hacking at the projection behind him. Tamed lightning buzzed around in the air before the cloaker flickered into view. He was cursing as his equipment fizzled out.

"Stupid, worthless, holo-!" was all he said before Six shredded his armor and melted his insides.

The humans sheathed their weapons and peeped their heads past the bunker door. Neither of them heard footsteps and Six's tracker wasn't picking up movement. Six checked the pockets of their latest kills and fished out some loot. Among the LMDs and bolts was a keycard. Six smirked as the trio slipped into the shelter and closed the door back.

Six ejected and pocketed the holotape as he plopped his butt onto a seat. He propped his feet on an ottoman and leaned back. Finally, he can rest his legs.

"Nice place," he noted as he crossed his arms behind his head. "Must've belonged to an aristocrat or something."

"This is the Count's shelter, actually," Lyudmila revealed.

Six shook his head. The Count? Not 'mayor'? He glanced around at the bunker again to confirm this. Sure enough, some certificates and paintings were hanging around. All of the people in the latter group were sharp-dressed Ursus. Ursi?

[Perception 5] Most of the labels on the art had been worn away(or filed judging from the scratches), but one plaque was somewhat legible; Boris, 107X-Blank. He must've been the last mayor the city had before the Catastrophe buried it. But something was a little off to the Courier. Where the hell was Boris, or his staff or family for that matter? The only bodies he saw were the ones rotting outside.

Guess nobody made it… he thought to himself. "So your dad's resting place is right around the corner?" Six asked.

"Or at least the pathway to it is," Lyudmila replied. "Other than that, we're almost at his doorstep. Just need to climb up into the capitol building and descend down this secret stairway."

"'Secret stairway'?" Six notes. "Just what the hell was your pa working on?"

"Nothing the local count wanted the Emperor to know of," she said cryptically. "And certainly not the other nobles either. Chances are that we'll need some keys to proceed further. My best bet would be Se-" she stopped herself. "...the secretary's office."

Six crossed his arms with a tilted head that said 'That's it'? There was more to all of this than she was letting on. He was about to ask her a question when his Pip-boy picked up another transmission. It was the same signal as before. His eyebrows furrowed as Morse Code started playing.

Beta here, go ahead.

This is Alpha, we're almost at Sarcophagus. Have you heard from Epsilon?

Negative. Contact was lost when Catastrophe rolled in. They had engaged in combat just before that.

Consider them lost then. Maintain your position while we pry objective open. If Catastrophe comes, retreat to bunker. We leave once we've obtained a sample for our clients.

Yes sir.

The transmission ended. Six's curiosity was piqued now. 'Sarcophagus?' What exactly did they mean by that? Was it related to-?

He glanced back at Lyudmila. She had this strange look on her face. It seemed like she was worried about something. Hell maybe even horrified. That look of shock gave way to righteous anger. Her fists balled up as she walked up to the stairs at the opposite end of the room. Six's motion tracker kicked in and picked up some rectangles. There was company above them.

Six got between her and the exit. "Woah there, Mata Hari!" he cautioned. "You really wanna stir up the hornet's nest up there?"

"Those 'hornets' are about to defile my father's legacy," she snapped. "If I don't swat them-"

She shook her head and brushed him aside. As soon as the cellar doors opened, she summoned her Arts. Six heard someone bark something in a foreign language, followed by footsteps. The markers on his motion tracker turned red as they drew closer. Thinking quickly he pulled Lyudmila back and tossed a grenade into the smoke. He heard someone scream as it detonated.

Lyudmila broke free from his grip and charged into the smog. Six cursed under his breath.

"ED-E, REC and Q-35."

The Eyebot chirped in compliance and ejected both Energy weapons toward Six. He traded in his riot shotgun for them and watched the eyebot catch it with its tractor beam. If the elements have already seeped in, chances are that the winds might disrupt his bullets' trajectory. Energy weapons don't have to deal with those issues as much. With his blasters fully charged, the dynamic duo charged feet first into hell.

Six heard the sound of weapons swinging and flesh being flayed. Seems like his companion was already thinning the herd. But she did not account for the snipers and casters on the balcony. Six drew out the Q-35 prototype and ran up the nearest steps. ED-E followed him and covered the rear. Six took cover behind some furniture and flung hot plasma at his targets. Many of them howled as the gunk superheated their armor and burnt the skin beneath. The unlucky ones melted into puddles.

Some hounds came rushing to their masters' aid. ED-E's lasers made short work of them, but things got more complicated when the Infiltrators joined the fray. As soon as a bullet or blast hit them, they vanished and left behind holographic projections. Thankfully those didn't fire lasers of their own, but their creators had Arts and weapons. Just like before, destroying the illusions shorted out their cloaking tech, allowing the duo to vaporize them. Then the drones flew into battle and rained Arts fire on them.

Six and ED-E ran into the nearest room and hunkered down, dropping some frag mines along the way. Six toggled VATS and began shooting down the drones with the REC. ED-E's targeting systems had no issue tracking their movements and they mowed down the swarm. A defender walked into the room, carrying a hammer across his shoulder. He seemed to think that he could chug on through the minefield like a tank. He was wrong.

"ED-E, Anti-Material for Christine," Six ordered.

ED-E made an inquisitive beep as they switched sniper rifles.

"No need for stealth right now," Six answered. "Not with Mila running amok."

Six ran to the balcony as the smoke died down. He toggled VATS and selected the goons furthest from Lyudmila. He let loose, tearing through many hounds and mercs like a hot knife through butter. Now the survivors' attention was split between the aliens and the assassin. That gave their guide some breathing room and space to maneuver.

Lyudmila maimed Mercs left and right as she went into a frenzy. Eyes slashed, hearts stabbed out, spines severed, throats slit, even a couple of decapitations. The ones with the heaviest armor endured of course, but Six blew them to Kingdom Come with Annabell.

The town hall was drenched in blood, gore, ash, and goop. Six's ears picked up static, followed by a voice. He traced the noise to one of Lyudmila's victims and spied a radio on their vest. He plucked it from the fresh corpse and held it out for all to hear.

"Beta Leader, come in. Do you read me? Come in!" commanded the voice.

Six didn't know what to say. He hadn't heard the man's voice so he couldn't attempt an impersonation of him. In the end, he settled for dropping it onto the floor and melting it with the Q-35. Lyudmila had a fiery look in her eyes as she watched the device sizzle and crack. She pointed at a couple of massive doors and motioned for him to follow. Six complied.

The sign above read 'Secretary's Office'. There was a name plaque on the barrier but it was scratched out. Lyudmila just stared at the door. Six looked back at her and waved a hand in front of her face. She didn't seem to notice. Not until the Courier opened the door for her.

"Ladies first," he said with a bow.

She ignored him and walked inside. Six shut the door as ED-E flew in and looked around. There was a desk here, a fireplace there. A closet with some fur coats hanging up. Some bookshelves were lying on the floor, probably thrown there when the Catastrophe hit. Some Ursus plaques sat above their former posts, but Six couldn't read their tongue. Overall, it was a fairly standard design for an aristocrat's dwelling. The White Gloves would've probably killed for a setup like this.

"Search the closet," Lyudmila ordered. "I'll take a look at the bookcases."

Six nodded, entering the space. ED-E waited outside for him while he searched the closet. It was rather cramped, but he had some wiggle room. He felt along the walls and the floors, occasionally checking the pockets for anything of significance. The coats had nothing of importance, though. Six wasn't surprised.

[Perception 7] What did surprise him were the faint footprints on the floor. They were leading to the back end. He felt around it until his hands found a hidden panel. Pressing it down caused it to slide out of existence, revealing another card reader. Six called Lyudmila over and she came running. When she saw the device, she swiftly swiped the card through the scanner. The fake wall lowered itself, revealing a stairway.

It was pitch-black. Six took the front and lit the way with his Pipboy. ED-E followed behind him while Lyudmila covered the rear. More footprints lay before them. And they led to another underground bunker. Two more mercs were sitting there when they arrived. Six and ED-E reduced them to dust before they could alert their buddies.

It wasn't as lavish as the last one they discovered. If anything, it resembled a laboratory more than a shelter. There were some workbenches nearby. One of them had some old electronic components on it, while a chemistry set sat on a table. There was a makeshift station for… something. Power Armor maybe? He could've used that back at the garage. He made a mental note to reexamine his own suits once Lyudmila's 'quest' was over with.

They swung the next set of doors open to find two more goons. Defenders. Lyudmila phased through them just as Six tossed a frag grenade. The brutes took the brunt of the blow, allowing the girl to slash at their backsides. Suppressing laserfire from Six and ED-E cooked them alive. The enemy fell to the ground in burnt heaps, the stench of boiled flesh lingering in the air.

But they had no time to admire their handiwork. More of their ilk were probably dead ahead. They needed to move while they still had the element of surprise. And frankly, Six was dying to see what lay at the end of the road.

---

Back in the past at Staubstadt…

Under normal circumstances, Sesa would be grinning like a hyena. He and his partner have uncovered new weapons to study. No, not just new weapons. A new power to harness! Unfortunately, another weapon has reared its ugly head and decided to use them and an old friend as target practice. And to make matters worse, this weapon had friends.

The metal eyeballs and raiders were swift enough to evade his grenade's blast radius. To make matters worse, they had their own stash of grenades. Some of them were your standard frags, while others exploded into this green light. Everybody could feel the heat from the latter category.

And the worst part? They couldn't maneuver around the enemy in their current position. They were holding out in a two-story building, surprisingly intact in comparison to the rest of the town. While it made a fine shelter in theory, it had no other openings. No back doors, let alone windows to look outside or shoot from. Plus it was goddamned cramped in here. Even Projekt Red had a hard time moving around.

Sesa would've blasted their way out by now, but there'd be a chance that they'd get caught in the explosion too. The best they could do was station Nian at the entrance and have her soak up all the damage with her shield and Arts. There was a little wiggle room for Sesa and Red to lob daggers and bombs, but just barely. The best they could do was give themselves a breather whenever possible. One of the raiders laughed at their predicament.

"What's the matter, muties?" shouted a bandit. "Can't handle the heat? You gonna squeal before we cook ya?"

If that raider weren't busy laughing her ass off, she would've noticed a certain Vulpo sneaking up on one of his buddies. She heated up her thermite blade and wrapped her arm around the bitch's neck. She rammed her sword through her back and out of her chest. The lady-bandit let out a guttural gasp as her lungs boiled. Franka allowed the body to drop to the ground with a thud. That caught her crew's attention.

"The hell did she come from?!" shouted one of the meatbags.

"Does it matter?" said the three-eyed robot. "Opening fire!"

Franka dove for cover as 10mm rounds and lasers soared over her head. That gave Projekt Red an opening to sneak out and climb onto the roof. Sesa managed to lob out a grenade behind two of the bandits. They were both sent flying by the blast. Red threw some knives at one of the metal eyeballs, ripping it to shreds. The surviving raiders panicked and scattered. The robot emitted a 'tsk' sound.

"Good-for-nothing greenhorns," it muttered.

The wolf-girl threw some knives at the Mr. Gutsy, but it easily strafed around them. Franka charged at another raider, using the armored corpse of her first victim as a makeshift shield. It was absorbing the shotgun pelts mighty fine, but it was also falling apart. Once she got close enough she threw the remains at the goon. That stunned him long enough for her to literally disarm him. His head was the last thing to fly off.

One of the eyeballs opened fire on her. Franka knelt down and grabbed the man's hunting shotgun. No originium in it or its shells. No surprise, no complications like with her world's arms. She hadn't had much training with firearms, but she wagered that this weapon was similar in principle to Liskarm's pistol. She loaded the weapon up and fired away. A few shells were more than enough to reduce the drone to scrap metal. To her disappointment, the larger robot was heavily resistant to it. At least, until Sesa splashed it with a glass-gas grenade.

Projekt Red chose that time to strike again. This time she got up close and personal, slicing off all of its optics. The robot went berserk as it went blind, leashing out with all of its weapons. While it was running around like a headless chicken, Nian closed in and bashed it with her shield, shattering its torso armor. Franka reloaded and fired at its arms, blasting off each one. As soon as the last one snapped off, though, it started to turn red and rev up.

Franka saw where this was going. "Everybody take cover!" she shouted.

Nian barely had time to kick in Iron Guard before the robot self-destructed. Everybody's Geiger counters were clicking like mad as the flames died down. Franka approached the remains once the counters stopped clicking and inspected them. Hers ticked back to life as soon as she got near.

"Nuclear-powered robot," she remarked. "Now I've seen everything."

She grabbed a sheathe from the dead raider and wrapped it around herself. She grabbed another one and a scoped revolver from her first kill and handed both items to Projekt Red. It was at that point she noticed the Energy Weapons on Sesa's back. She raised an eyebrow.

"What kinda guns are those?" she asked him.

Sesa simply drew the boxy-looking rifle and fired it at one of the more intact bodies. It left a visible burn mark on the corpse. He switched to a more cylindrical-shaped rifle and aimed at an eyebot. Pulling the trigger produced a glowing green goop that ate away at the chassis, completely dissolving it. Finally, he demonstrated the carbine on another corpse. Its left arm was blown to pieces after a mild barrage.

Once the gun show ended, he allowed everyone to feel each weapon. No originium.

"Just like Rainbow Team's," Franka noted.

"You mean the first offworlders y'all encountered?" Nian asked.

Franka blinked. "Where'd you-"

"Ran into them at Siesta a month ago," she quickly explained. "Had a different air than most folk. Same kind as these assholes."

Franka clasped the bridge of her nose with her fingers. Of course the fragment of a literal god would be able to see through their disguises. Then a thought occurred to her.

"What the heck are you doing here anyway?" the Vulpo asked.

"Looking for inspiration. Those bastards were ruining my vacation."

Red walked up to Franka. "Should we fill her in?" she whispered into her ears.

Franka didn't reply immediately. While Nian wasn't the most popular Operator at Rhodes Island, she was at least competent. She knew when to keep her mouth shut. And besides, her 'divine' origins granted her some insight into places beyond most people's reach. Franka sighed.

"That can wait," she whispered back.

She drew out her radio and held it to her mouth. "Attention all Operators, we have a hostage situation. Castle-3 has been taken hostage by a bandit tribe. Repeat, hostile bandits have abducted Castle-3. All Operators within the vicinity of Staubstadt are to report to me up at the northern ruins."

She ended the transmission and looked back at her fellow Operators. They had perplexed looks on their faces.

"Why would they be interested in Castle-3?" Sesa asked. "He's just a rover."

"Um, hello?" Nian retorted, pointing at the green robot's scrap pile. "Have you already forgotten about the drill sergeant and the floating eyeballs?"

"Not to mention that Castle is Closure's property," Franka added. "You know, one of our organization's pillars? He probably has some sensitive data in his hard drives."

"Oh… You say that he's being held up north?"

"Yep. In a hidden bunker."

"A hidden bunker? Color me intrigued. But that implies tight corners. My launcher won't be very useful indoors. Not with the risk of caving the ceiling on top of us. We could fall back onto these foreign arms, but finding ammunition for them would be a hassle."

Red raised her hand. "You won't need to fight inside," she suggested. "I can slip in and rescue Castle while you draw out the raiders."

Franka smiled. "I like this plan already. Everybody ready to roll out?"

Everyone nodded. "Then let's get going already. We've got a robot to save and some asses that need kicking."

The gang ran off to the rescue. Not long after they departed, though, crimson energy began to swirl around between the stalagmites. At first it was a maelstrom, a hurricane of raw power. Then it started to take on a reptilian, almost demonic shape. The energy dissipated, giving way to a lone creature. A monster the likes of which Terra had never seen.

An apex predator had just been introduced to Terra's ecosystem. And it was hungry.

---

Meanwhile, near the border between Staubstadt and Ascheufer…

Jessica ran as fast as her legs could carry her. While she usually wasn't the swiftest person in Blacksteel, today was an exception. A gang of raiders was running about in these ruins. A gang armed with guns. Not crossbows, guns! This fact was enough of an excuse to make her panic. But right now she couldn't. Not while her mentor and squadmates were in grave danger.

She finally found Liskarm and Rangers among some tents and the wreckage of some old automobiles. Most of them were armored personnel carriers, not unlike what you'd find in Ursusine or Columbian cities. She could hear Liskarm's pistol going off, the sound of gunfire reverbing among the wreckage. But when she got the Operators in her sights, she was in for a shock.

Liskarm and Rangers were wrestling not with someone, but something. Shriveled creatures with barely any meat on their bones. From her binoculars, she saw their milky white eyes and rotting flesh. It looked as if the skin had flaked off long ago. She could've sworn one of them had a faint glow too.

Many of the creatures were already riddled with bullets and arrows, yet they hardly seemed to notice. Either their nerves were as dead as their flesh, or they were too berserk to notice. Jessica wanted to jump in there and help but she needed time to calibrate her shots. She cursed herself for not bringing her rifle.

Wait. She did have one with her. She drew out the sniper rifle she looted from that stranger. She intended to bring it and its cartridges back to base for study, but this was an emergency. The weapon and bullets had no originium so she didn't have to worry about focus. She just had to be mindful of her shots.

Jessica elected to aim for the legs. She took a couple of deep breaths and pulled the trigger. One of the monsters had its leg sent flying into the air, toppling it over. That allowed Liskarm to separate its head with her shield. Another zombie had its arm shot off, briefly shaking it out of its bloodlust. It only had a couple of seconds to ponder before Rangers rammed an arrow into its skull.

Unfortunately, some of the beasts had noticed the Feline. Those monsters shifted their focus onto her and charged. She crippled their legs before moving to the center of mass, but something happened. A pale-skinned specimen suddenly unleashed a burst of lime-green light with a guttural cry. To her horror, the light show seemed to be healing them. All gunshot wounds sealed, limbs miraculously reattached. Her Gieger counter clicked as she backpedaled.

One hand fell upon her pistol while another reached for a smoke grenade. She dropped the latter onto the ground as she backed away. It detonated under their feet, startling and disorienting them. Jessica used the opportunity to fire away with both guns. Most of them fell but one still stood proud. It was covered in metal scrap, some makeshift armor like the raiders. Her bullets bounded off of its hardened flesh and protective plating.

She didn't have time to ponder as a swing from its claw sent her flying into a rusty APC. Jessica felt her ribcage buckle as it pounced on and pummeled away at her. Something collided with its armored back, drawing its attention. Just as it twisted its gnarled head around, it was suddenly electrocuted. The creature spasmed and locked up, allowing its assailant to tip it over.

It was Liskarm, with Rangers right behind her. The old lizard fired some arrows into its exposed joints, pinning it down. Jessica shook off the surprise and fired away as well. Eventually, the beast went limp.

The catgirl let out a sigh of relief. "Th-thank goodness you two came along," she said. "That… thing would've pulverized me."

"We should be thanking you," Rangers says. "If you hadn't diverted their attention, they would've swarmed us."

Jessica glanced back down at the armored husk. "Wh-where did they come from?" she asked. "What are they? Zombies?

"From Ascheufer," Liskarm said. "But as to what they are, I cannot-"

She noticed the rifle holstered on her student's back. "Where did you get that rifle?" she asked.

Jessica gulped. "From… a bandit," she confessed. "He was firing on us. His friends had guns too. Pinned me down with suppressive fire for a bit until Franka came along. We eliminated his buddies and managed to interrogate him. He said some… weird things. Like he was raised under a rock."

Both of the older Operators had a concerned look on their faces. "That rifle, may I see it?" asked Liskarm.

Jessica nodded and handed it to her. She also gave it a clip for good measure. Liskarm closed her eyes for a moment and tried to feel something in each of them. Nothing. Her frown grew.

"Nothing," she told Rangers. "No originium."

Rangers looked at Jessica. "Did they happen to mention something about the earth?"

Jessica nodded. "But that's the least of our worries. They've got Castle-3."

"Castle?" Liskarm asked with a tilted head. "Why would they-"

A beeping sound caught their attention. The trio spun around to see a floating yellow eyeball some distance away. It had a grill crudely welded onto its front, several antennae stretching from its back, and a cannon on its underside.

"Isn't that…?" Jessica began.

Liskarm shook her head. "Doubtful," she said. "The reports mentioned it being silver and covered in license plates."

The robot emitted some negative-sounding beeps and flew off. The trio chased after it.

---

Meanwhile…

Cliffheart was used to venturing out into the wilderness. She was used to roughin' it out under the night sky. But then again, most of that was spent climbing mountains. Out here the only thing to climb was a rickety old radio tower. And its current occupant was hardly a conversationalist.

Schwarz was scanning the horizon from the widow's walk while Cliffheart was resting in the tent. When she first entered it her Gieger counter started clicking It didn't take long for her to find the source. It was some battery in a trash bin, but nothing like she had seen before. It was damaged and leaking some weird radioactive fluid. She swiftly scooped it up into a lead-lined bag Franka provided everybody.

There was also a foul smell. She followed it to a bucket of… she didn't know what. Someone's stool or vomit. It had a crimson stain inside of it. Whatever it was, she threw it out and sanitized her hands with a wipe. Then she looked down at the bed inside. There were several crimson stains on the mattress, hiding a cache of medical supplies beneath it. These looked old, probably leftovers from the civil war. But some specks of dust had been whipped off. Someone used these recently.

Her cat ears perked up as they heard a clunking sound. She darted to the drape cloaking her and opened it slightly. Some footprints were popping out of nowhere. No, not from nowhere. From Staubstadt. The trail circled the area for a moment before something fizzled into existence.

It appeared to be a woman, judging from their silhouette. But something seemed off about them. Their movement seemed stiff, hardly fluid. There was also the sound of something whirring. Motors maybe? But the strangest thing was the red jewel on their forehead. It seemed to give off a subtle glow from her position.

The figure's gaze suddenly shifted toward the tent. She scrambled towards the commander's bed as fast as she could. She hastily set up the blanket and crawled under the platform. She heard the curtain swing open as the entity marched into the tent. She subtly pushed a corner of the blanket aside to peek out.

Cliffheart blinked and rubbed her eyes. Standing in the tent was not a person, but a robot. A 'gynoid', if her understanding of pop culture was correct. That 'jewel' she saw was actually a giant optic, though she could make out two smaller ones just above it. In place of hands were some folding blades, ready to spin out at a moment's notice.

The robot paced around the room, scanning for who-knows-what. Herself? Probably. Just as it closed in on her hiding spot, some static crackled. It was her radio. She had left it on the table in her haste. And coming out of it was Franka's voice.

"Attention all Operators, we have a hostage situation. Castle-3 has been taken hostage by a bandit tribe. Repeat, hostile bandits have abducted Castle-3. All Operators within the vicinity of Staubstadt are to report to me up at the northern ruins."

She didn't wait to hear the full message, though. She was more interested in getting out of there alive. While the robot was distracted she sprung out from her cover and ran past it. The robot gave chase, arm blades springing out.

"Halt!" it ordered in a vaguely feminine voice.

Cliffheart didn't comply. She made a beeline for the ladder to the crow's nest. Unfortunately, that machine wasn't as clunky as she thought it was. It tackled her just before she could climb up, pinning her to the earth. Each blade had been lodged into the ground, trapping her neck in a scissor formation. The robot lowered itself so that it could better examine its prey.

"Scanning…" it announced. "Curious. You appear to be human, yet you possess attributes of an extinct mammal."

Cliffheart scuffed. "Who are you calling extinct?" She retorted.

"You, Ms. Fossil Fuel. I assume that radio belonged to you?"

"No idea what you-"

The robot stomped on her ribs before she could finish. "Don't think you can lie to me, bitch," it said. "I have a heart monitor installed in my chassis. I can detect and record any irregularities in your heartbeat. If I were you, I'd watch my tongue. Now, first question-"

Something embedded itself into its chassis. A bolt. The robot looked up just in time to see another flying towards its head. It dislodged its blades from the ground and leaped back in time to avoid a headshot. There- directly above them- was Schwarz. She didn't bother to engage in interrogations or witty banter like Cliffheart would, though. She just cut right to the chase and tried to pounce on the drone. It gracefully sidestepped the attack, leaping back again as she made a horizontal swing with her bayonet.

Cliffheart rose back onto her feet and gave the assassin a thumbs-up. She didn't receive a 'your welcome' or anything of the like, to her disappointment. The robot's eye began to glow like a bonfire as it charged at them. Both ladies dodged each of its jabs and swings, hacking away at it whenever they could. For something so skinny, it was rather durable. And it was swift enough to leave some cuts on them too.

Cliffheart whipped some fresh blood off of her cheeks, frowning. She ducked under another horizontal swing, just a few centimeters away from losing her Feline ears. Schwarz rolled back and fired a bolt at the robot, but a swing from its blade threw off its trajectory. The robot spread its limbs out and fired a laser at the assassin.

Both ladies scrambled to evade the beam. Cliffheart was sweating as it soared past her. Schwarz didn't have that kind of luxury. The robot had locked onto her, forcing her to pull off all sorts of stunts and crazy flips to avoid it. The tent burst into flames, with everything inside either catching fire or outright disintegrating. When the laser finally died down, she took in a couple of quick breaths.

The robot charged at her but was surprised to find something wrapping around its chassis. It rotated its head 180 degrees to see Cliffheart with her rope in hand. She yanked hard and pulled the gynoid towards her. The drone sailed past the Feline and into the tent's wreckage. This dazed it long enough for Schwarz to shoot off one of its arms. The robot growled as the limb fell.

Before the assassin could fire again, the robot vanished into thin air. She scowled as her eyes fell to the earth. Sure enough, fresh footprints had started spawning before them. Or rather towards them. Schwarz fired at the invisible robot, trying to follow its trail. A slash across the leg caused her to butt her crossbow at the assailant, but all it hit was air. As another trial appeared and snaked towards her, she kicked up some dirt. Some of it stuck to the robot.

Cliffheart knocked it into the earth, dirtying up the drone some more. Schwarz fired at the drone again, this time causing a severed leg to appear. The robot decloaked as its chassis collided with the earth, its largest optic burning like hellfire. And hell's gates opened when it fired the laser again. Both women ran a lap around the radio tower to avoid being vaporized.

A groaning sound caught all of the combatants' attention. All three looked up to see that the laser had partially melted the beams supporting the radio tower. And it was leaning in their direction.

"Oh crap," was all that escaped Cliffheart's lips.

She and Schwarz ran for it. The robot crawled after them at an alarming pace but it was no use. The tower collapsed on top of the robot, pinning it under rubble. Its first thought was to melt its way through, but the laser hadn't fully charged yet. It still had its arm blade, though. Perhaps it could cut its way out? It never got the chance to test that theory out. A bolt from Schwarz severed its head from its chassis, finally shutting it down.

The ladies let out a collective sigh of relief as Cliffheart investigated the tent. She happily clipped her walkie-talkie back onto her belt as Schwarz checked on the gynoid. It was as still as stone. Schwarz dismembered its corpse for good measure, though. She didn't want to take any risks.

"Are you alright?" she asked the younger Feline.

"Apart from some scrapes, yeah," Cliffheart replied. "I'm fine. What about you?"

"Same. Did you receive Franka's message?"

"That there's a tribe of bandits lurking around? Yep. Think we should meet up with h-"

An explosion interrupted their conversation. The women turned to see that some rubble had been thrown across the area by something underneath. It was a pair of cellar doors being blown open. And riding out of them were several offroad vehicles. Their occupants were howling like wild animals as they drove off. One of the cars- a pickup truck- seemed to be carrying a massive suit of armor in its cab. Someone opened fire on the duo, forcing them to scatter. When the bastards drove off they looked down to see bullet casing on the ground.

The ladies blinked. "Did you happen to see any wings or halos on them?" Schwarz just asked.

Cliffheart shook her head. "Nope. Those guys didn't look like Sankta."

They looked at the fresh tire tracks on the earth. They were heading out west. Towards-

Schwarz broke off into a sprint and went through the cellar doors. Cliffheart chased after her and found herself in a hidden garage. There were all sorts of wheels here. ATVs, UTVS, motorcycles, snowmobiles, jeeps. They were all offroaders. And Schwarz was already climbing onto a motorcycle.

"Hop on," she ordered.

Cliffheart complied and held onto the assassin for dear life. The duo sped off into the wasteland after the bandits. If either of them bothered to look back, though, they would've seen someone- or rather, something- else enter the area. Something that sniffed at the tire tracks and fresh blood. Its nose and stomach told it to follow the trail. And the creature was more than happy to oblige.

---

Back to the future, in the dark heart of Chernoberg…

Two hours have passed since they descended down the steps. Two hours of nothing but wandering in the dark. There wasn't much to write about the scenery down here. Just abandoned cargo, haulers, and the occasional rubble. But there were footprints ahead. Someone's been here recently.

Nobody spoke a word as they trekked through the darkness. For all they knew, they were walking into an ambush. Six's light may have provided illumination, but it also painted a target on himself. And there weren't many hiding spots or cover either. They and their enemies would be exposed. Six contemplated changing into some Power Armor, but he shot that thought down. He didn't want to show his hand to his current guide. Not when there was the risk of her backstabbing him later.

Eventually, they saw a faint light ahead. Six killed his flashlight and the humans crouched down in the darkness. Red Scare booted up in his helmet, lighting the world in a crimson hue. The trio crawled behind some rubble and poked their heads out. To their surprise, it was just a dead end. A dead end with a retinal scanner beside it. The screen was giving off a dim ocean-blue glow.

"This the place?" Six whispered.

Lyudmila nodded. "Or rather the entrance to it," she clarified. "I have no intention of opening the door, though."

"So you'll just lay some flowers or something there? And that's it?"

"I'd say yes, but… does something feel off to you?"

Six nodded in agreement. That scanner was still active from where he was standing. That meant there was power running. Someone was down here. He recalled Alpha's message to Beta earlier. They were closing in on this, weren't they? Where did they go?

"ED-E, toss me Sprtel-Wood," Six requested.

ED-E made an inquisitive beep.

"Because if this is a trap, I wanna be able to spin it against them. You and the Femme Fatale hang back in case I get swarmed."

The robot ejected the Gatling Laser and backpack onto the floor. Six crotched down and strapped the latter onto his back. Lyudmila's jaw dropped to the floor as Six picked up the actual minigun. She rubbed her eyes and shook her head to see if anything changed. Nope. She wasn't seeing things after all.

She remembered hearing stories of Laterano's Apostolic Knights carrying those in their capital city, but he didn't strike her as one. He didn't have the halo and wings of a Sankta, and certainly not the tails of their fallen brethren. Just who the hell was he? What the hell was he?

"...risovka," she muttered under her breath. Yeah. That would be the best way to describe him for now.

Six slowly walked to the end of the hall, his PIP-Boy lighting the way for him. As he got closer to it, something became obvious. The wall before him had been crudely bolted over something, probably a magnetic gate. There were some fresh gashes on it, with drops of molten metal still dripping. Six's muscles tensed as he looked at the compass on his HUD.

It happened so quickly. Several parts of the walls slid upwards, revealing at least a dozen goons. All of the classes they had seen in the city thus far were surrounding him, plus some new ones. Most of them had this crimson highlight on their attire, giving them this aura of authority. These must be the top dogs of the mercs. And he was cornered.

While the doors were still rising, Six toggled VATS and picked the nearest opening near him. He let loose with his Gatling Laser and instantly vaporized two of the goons. A dog with pitch-black fur and red eyes bit down on one of his arms. His aim was thrown off as it weighed him down, narrowly missing a cloaker. Six managed to shake the mutt off and disintegrate it for its troubles. He shifted his focus onto a three-eyed sniper next, but his charge pack dried up before he could finish him.

Six tried to back up and change Electron packs but he bumped into a grenadier. Like many of his collages, he had blood-red highlights. And he packed one hell of a punch. Six was sent flying into the makeshift barrier by his RPG, losing his Gatling Laser. The merc hacked away at the Courier with his sickles, leaving gnashes in his armor. Six managed to pull out his Ripper and parried a blow aimed at his neck. He severed one of the bastard's arms and then rammed his weapon into his guts. Unfortunately, it got wedged into his corpse, forcing him to abandon it.

A blast of Arts wrapped itself around him like a snake, forcing him to drop to his knees. He gasped and growled as the energy squeezed his ribcage. He looked up to see a towering robed Sarkaz with a crimson mask standing before him. ED-E flew to his rescue and began firing on him. Another Caster of the same class blasted and sent him flying through the smoke.

'ED-E has been rendered unconscious!' flashed Six's HUD.

Six blinked. These guys were that strong? Lyudmila conjured up a smokescreen and rushed to Six's aid. She leaped onto his captor and sliced off the top of his staff. The tether faded and Six rose back onto his feet. What he heard next wasn't something he'd expect from a mercenary.

"Crownslayer?!" the other man said in disbelief. "You've gotta be shitting me!"

And that was all he wrote before Lyudmila butchered him. That outburst intrigued the Courier, to say the least. That man clearly recognized her from somewhere before. What did she do to earn such a title? He'll ask her later. Right now the battlefield wasn't the best place for a Q&A.

Another caster appeared and roped Lyudmila up. Six took out his Plasma Defender and melted the Sarkaz merc into a glowing goo. The girl thanked him but he paid her no mind. He ran back to the Sprtel-Wood 9700 and reloaded it. He tried to bring up VATS but it was unresponsive.

He cursed his luck. He forgot about the little complication her Arts brought about. He fell back onto his compass for guidance, doing his best to keep his back against the sole orange marker on his compass. He didn't want to risk vaporizing his only key into Great Lungmen. His only ticket back home.

He tripped over his Ripper's victim trying to wade around Arts and arrow fire. He growled to see that it had been dislodged by the accident. He eagerly revved it up and yanked it out, just in time to block a blow from a swordsman. He used his free hand to draw his Plasma Defender and melt his opponent's insides. He sheathed both weapons and knelt to retrieve his heaviest one.

Something- or rather someone- flew into him before he could. It was an unconscious Lyudmila, bleeding out on the floor. Something invisible pounced on him before he could check on the girl. Six could feel one hand trying to pry off his neck guard while the other pummeled away at his helmet. Both parties heard a familiar leitmotif playing in the smoke. And not too long afterward his enemy's cloak fizzled and failed. Six heard the bastard utter a curse before he jammed Chance's Knife into his neck. He was drowning in his own blood as Six shoved him off.

He crawled over to examine Lyudmila. Thankfully her injuries weren't as severe as the Boar crash. She just had some cuts on her was all. He injected a Stimpak into her arm and watched as the cuts faded away. Just as the young woman was regaining consciousness, though, something grabbed him. He was thrown out of the smokescreen and back into the dark hallway,

Six groaned as he rose back onto his feet. Waltzing out of the smog was one of those poncho-wearing mutants. Following them were red variants of the drones from the surface. ED-E flew to Six's side as the merc with a doghouse for a head approached them. The bastard drew out a couple of sickles and charged at him.

Six found himself on the defensive, dodging kicks, swings, and bombs. ED-E shifted his focus on the drones while Six kept the Phantom's eyes on him. One of those healing drones came to the merc's aid after Six crippled an arm with his Defender. That damned machine healed him faster than he could burn him. Hell, it seemed to have restored his arm to working condition.

Six growled and ran back into the smog to reclaim his Gatling Laser. While he found it, Lyudmila was nowhere to be seen. He heard something slash in the distance, followed by a fleshy 'thud!' He smirked as he recharged Sprtel-Wood. The grenade-lobbing drone barged into the smoke, but he had no issue blasting it. The other drone and its master appeared afterward. Neither of them took ED-E into account, though. That bit them in the ass as the eyebot reduced the AOE drone to scrap.

The cloaked figure however proved to be made of sterner stuff. He shrugged off every laser and plasma bolt that they threw at him. What perplexed Six was that the bastard was moving faster than before too. Six bellowed as a kick sent him flying over and behind some rubble. The Courier growled as he landed ungracefully onto the concrete floor. Once he propped himself back up, he took out his backpack. It took some rummaging, but he quickly found what he was looking for; Psycho.

Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't use chems. Even less so while he was stranded in a world that seemingly lacked the main ingredients for it. But right now it was either him or the local merc. He injected it into his arm and let out a snarl as the drug coursed through his veins. Six took out a frag grenade and rolled it to the merc while ED-E distracted him.

The resulting explosion knocked his weapons outta his hands and threw him off balance. Six used the opportunity to draw his prototype Plasma Rifle and fire away. While the blaster managed to burn away the cloak, the armor still held up. Six let out a frustrated growl as he ran through a whole MFC. He wasn't in the mood to reload so he took out his Ripper and slashed away.

Turns out that they were pretty skilled in unarmed combat too. He didn't need sickles to block the Ripper. He was plenty capable of disarming Six with a parry and forcing him into fisticuffs. Six had some skill in the field, but his opponent outclassed him. ED-E jumped in at his defense, but he got grabbed and pummeled into oblivion by the bastard for his efforts. When he was rendered unconscious, the merc just casually threw him over his shoulder like a piece of trash. That pissed off the drug-addled Courier real good. He threw out a mean punch but the poncho-man just caught it and spun its owner around. Within that same motion, he threw the Courier against a wall.

The merc strode towards him, cracking his fists and neck. Someone lunged at him before he could reach the Courier, though. It was Lyudmila, and she was stabbing away at his backside. Six retrieved his ripper and struck the goon in the leg, causing him to let out a yelp. That small cry turned into an agonized howl as the Courier sliced off said leg, causing him to fall onto the ground. Lyudmila ended his misery with a knife to the jugular.

ED-E rose back into the air with a grateful beep to the woman. She returned his thanks with a thumbs up as she dispersed the smokescreen. The aftermath was the same old for the Courier; blood, gore, dust. But something stuck out to him. There was a PDA on Lyudmila's latest kill. Six picked it up and examined it.

It resembled one of the handheld devices from Hoover's workshop. A 'tablet', right? It appeared to be a touchscreen like the personal phones the natives carried, with an optic sensor at one end of it. Tabbing it revealed that it still had some power left. Unfortunately, it was locked behind a passcode. And he hadn't figured out a way to hack into such devices yet. He still needed to study this world's Operating Systems.

Suddenly it started ringing and a name popped up on the screen. Mr. S. Before Six could ask Lyudmila for advice she yanked the device out of his hands. She collected some dust and blood, mixing them and smearing the result over the camera. She slid a tab on the screen and a symbol came up. It appeared to be a pitch-black symbol on it, resembling a demonic skull. A southern voice boomed from the machine.

"Brimstone, do you read me?" it bellowed. "Have you found the Sarcophagus yet? Come in!"

Six looked back at Lyudmila. She just dropped it onto the floor and crushed the tablet under her boot. She gave it a twist for good measure.

"Well, that's one way to hang up," Six said sarcastically.

She didn't respond. Instead, she made her way to the retinal scanner. Six was about to chase after her, but a glint caught his eye. It was coming from a sniper's body. Six walked over and discovered the source of the glare. In the mercenary's dead hands wasn't your typical crossbow. In fact, it looked like a rifle. Six yanked the weapon off of the corpse and began inspecting it.

It seemed to resemble the sniper rifles of the Mojave for the most part, bearing the same paintjob and general build. But it felt lighter than its Earthling counterpart for some reason. A glance at his PIP-Boy revealed it to be merely five pounds instead of eight. He checked the ammo cartridge and was surprised to see bolts in place of bullets. Checking the deceased's pockets revealed that they also had round shots too. This wasn't a firearm. This was an air gun.

[Perception 6] There was also a word engraved on it. It was worn out, but he could still see the word on the plague; Scout.

He looked back at Lyudmila, who was kneeling before the barrier. She sat a bouquet at the retinal scanner. Most of which he only read about in pre-war books. Dark crimson roses, pink carnations, lavender, gladiolus, iris. She sat a book down in front of the bundle. The words 'Правда и справедливость' were imprinted upon it, but he couldn't translate the title.

Must be her pa's favorite book, Six concluded. Wonder if there's an English translation out there somewhere?

She bowed her head and began whispering. Was she praying? He walked closer to her as quietly as he could. Whatever she was saying, it was in Ursine. His brows furrowed. He really needed to learn the languages of this world.

Six's HUD picked movement to his left. He turned his head to see a figure disappearing into one of the hidden doors. Six followed them to discover a room filled with monitors and desks. Each screen was showing either static or some room or another. This must be the security office. And the largest monitor seemed to be caught in a loop. Six looked at the date on the corner of the screen.

23/12/1096

There was a strange-looking device at the center of some room. It resembled a pod or cocoon, like that of the Mojave's mantis. There appeared to be two factory arms or cranes beside it. There was a small group of people standing before it. A cold mist flowed out of the pod as it opened up. There was a robed figure stumbling out of it, but couldn't make out their features. A mask obscured their face, while the dark coat covered any potential tails or ears.

Their companions, on the other hand, were clear as day. One of them was a small girl with long animal ears and brown hair. They reminded him of images of the eastern coast's rad-rabbit. Another appeared to be some type of catgirl. 'Feline', right? There was another figure, this one heavily armed. None of them resembled the mercs he fought. The footage began to fast forward toward another date.

6/1/1097

A smaller individual was tinkering with it. It appeared to be a young boy, maybe in his preteens. His skin was pale and his hair a metallic gray. He had a strange-looking staff with him, with a floating crystal over it. There were some dark spots on his skin too. He must be one of those "Infected" fellows.

He eventually got the pod open and climbed inside. But what came back out wasn't human. Six could barely even describe the being that did. It appeared to be a crystalline bird, yet it dragged its wings across the floor. Something told the Courier that flight was outta the question for it. But the thing that stood out was its voice. It was singing, almost like a human. Six read about some pre-war birds mimicking human speech. Mockingbirds and parrots, if he recalled correctly.

It was… beautiful. But something about it was also uncanny. Something that made his hair rise. And then another party entered the scene. Some were Sarkaz, others mooks in white garbs. All of them had massive black spikes erupting from their bodies and they moved in shambles. They almost reminded him of feral Ghouls.

Another group entered the scene. All of them were dressed in the hazmat suits he discovered earlier. They fought against the obsidian horde and their avian master. Yet while they lay waste to the Infected Ghouls, they allowed the monster to escape. A screen to his right revealed why. Not long after fleeing, it finally collapsed under its own weight and disintegrated. He could make out the faint outline of a child's body as it turned to dust.

The smaller screen powered down and his eyes returned their gaze to the largest one. Now two figures were standing near something best described as a warped cube. There was a distinct hum coming from it. One of them was a hoary-haired woman in green. She seemed to possess cat ears. Another Feline?

But the other figure… was the first person to emerge from the metal cocoon. And they were still human (or at least, by this world's standards they were). How the hell did they stay that way? Why did the kid mutate and not them? What the fuck was that contraption? Something that injected Terra's equivalent of the FEV into the user?

[Perception 6] It was at this point Six noticed the emblem on their coat. It was a chess piece. His understanding of the game was rusty, but wasn't that the castle piece?

The figure clasped their head and collapsed onto the floor. They reached out for the lime-green woman, giving them a shocked look on her face. She said something to him, but the audio was distorted. Anything that came out of either party's mouth was drowned in white noise. Then the footage started to rewind. Half of the date was glitched out, leaving only the year…

1094.

That robed figure was being placed into the pod now and was flanked by two women. One was that lady in green. The other had long brown hair like that child but lacked her ears. The way she cradled the stranger's hand implied a deep relationship between her and them. The camera's angle prevented Six from getting a good look at their legs, but from whatever glimpses it offered, they seemed pretty bloody. One of their arms hardly fared any better either.

The pod closed with a cold hiss. Sounded like it was inciting some form of cryo-stasis. The lady in green was walking outside of the camera's range. The other one lingered on for a solid minute. Then she took a sharp look at the camera. At the Courier…

And then she appeared right behind him. Six let out a startled yelp and grabbed the MF Hyperbreeder Alpha. He kept it leveled at her heart, yet she hardly seemed all that concerned. She just smiled and tilted her head. Six blinked. Either she was a hallucination or she was delusional. How the hell did she sneak up on him, though? His motion tracker should've picked her up.

She just kept on smiling at him, as a mother would to their child. Six's trigger finger was getting itchy but he refrained from pulling it. He didn't see any weapons on her so she shouldn't be of any threat to him. Yet she managed to waltz behind him unannounced and without warning.

"Who the hell are you?" Six finally asked.

She vanished into thin air. Six spun his head around in a frenzy, yet he couldn't find her. His motion tracker was detecting movement this time. Two orange squares. He could pick up the sound of something hovering as they got close. Six let out a sigh of relief and holstered his recharger pistol. Lyudmila and ED-E entered the lab.

"There you are," the former said. "I was wondering where you ran off to. You ready to go?"

Six didn't respond immediately. "... either of you happened to see another woman down here?"

She gave him a puzzled look while ED-E gave off a negative beep. "No, I haven't," the girl said. "Why?"

Six shook his head again. "No reason," he lied. "I guess I'm just jumping at shadows."

Then he yawned and stretched his arms out. Lyudmila chuckled while Six grumbled under his breath.

"Dammit, sandman's catching up to me," he muttered.

"Sounds like someone's been running from the sandman," she snickered. "What was the last time you slept?"

"Shortly after the crash."

"How many hours?"

"Uh, three?"

"And before that?"

"The hell do you mean?"

"You were sluggish back when we first met. Fatigued."

Six blinked. "How-"

"Let's just say some friends and I had some sleepless nights ourselves. How many did you lose?"

Six's hands balled up. They've only just met and she already figured him out. Not good.

"...at least two or three days," he confessed. "I've been on the move for at least that long. Didn't bother to take a breather during that time."

"Proklyatiye," she remarked. "You're either relentless or you're running from somebody."

"I told you. Something was taken from me."

"You never said what or by whom, though."

"For a damn good reason."

"And that is…?"

Six growled.

"Before I answer any of your questions, I've got some of my own," He retorted. "For starters, what was your father working on?"

"What does that have to do with-"

"[Perception 7] That door was welded shut. There was already a biometric scanner at the entrance but someone took the extra effort to completely seal off the main entrance. If that doesn't scream 'desperation' or 'terror' then I don't know what the fuck does!"

Six moved closer to the native assassin. "What the hell was your old man working on? What were those mercs after? A bioweapon? Clones? Stasis pods? Cloaking technology? A goddamned nuke?!"

Lyudmila's facemask began to shift. It looked like she was biting her lip.

"Seeing as how you rescued me from the Boar crash," she conceded. "I suppose I can entrust you with some of the truth."

Lyudmila motioned for Six to follow her back to the hallway. She positioned herself beside the retinal scanner and leaned her back against the wall. Six soon joined her, crossing his arms.

"I told you before that my father died in an incident, da?" she said.

"Yeah? What exactly happened?"

She paused, gathering her thoughts. "You know how Originium is the dominant source of energy on Terra? Well, Chernoberg wasn't fueled by any of that stuff. The city's Count discovered this strange machine years ago. Something the likes of which nobody had ever seen. Something that could provide an incredible amount of power without relying on Originium. They called it the 'Sarcophagus'. And my father was part of the research group studying it."

"So what happened? Was there an accident?"

Lyudmila flashed a glare at him. "Accident? Hardly!" she snapped, banging a fist at the wall beside her. "My roditel and the eggheads realized that Ursus would've tried to weaponize the Sarcophagus. They tried to bury their research, but the Third Army's nose caught a whiff of things. They cornered one of papa's friends and threatened his newborn kids. He turned to the Count for help but-"

"He was only concerned with watching his own back?" Six concluded.

Lyudmila nodded. "Father managed to seal the sarcophagus before the secret service arrived. But they couldn't save themselves. The sell-out- Sergei- was given the position of 'Secretary' by the Count as compensation for watching his comrades die. My mother and I fled to Siracusa to hide from the Ursus government. I contracted Oripathy soon afterward and mama was caught in a crossfire between two gangs."

Her other hand balled up into a fist. "The world shuns the Infected, sees us as nothing but a plague. A biohazard. I was thrown into the streets to fend for myself. Nobody wanted to be anywhere near an Infected girl like me. Even the pimps avoided me. The only person that gave a damn was this old man. He taught me how to survive, how to fight and slip away. Then I heard of this militia back in Ursus. An Aegis of the Infected…"

She closed her eyes and crossed her arms, taking in some deep breaths. "But that's a story for another day."

She took out a piece of paper and placed it on the floor. Six knelt to examine it with the native. It appeared to be a map of the core platform. Several spots had been marked on the map, some of them under red X's. There were also some notes written on it, but it was in Ursine. Lyudmila tapped on one of the crimson circles.

"This was one of several safehouses my group and I set up before the fall of this city. If it's managed to survive the catastrophe, then its contents should still be intact."

Six's PIP-Boy flickered to life and scanned the map. The woman cursed at the sight of this while Six just looked on in surprise. She glared at him after the scan was complete. All she got was a nervous chuckle.

"Sorry," he said. "This thing can have a mind of its own sometimes."

No sooner than those words left his mouth it projected a holographic map between them. Six looked down at the Local Map to see that it had been updated. Several locations had been marked, but they were all using the Ursine dialect. Guess Hoover forgot to add some translators. The onboard programs didn't hesitate to write up a reminder of his objectives, though.

Follow Lyudmila to the safehouse.

Lyudmila mumbled something in Ursine. "Where the hell did you get that thing from?"

"From a damn good doctor," Six replied. "Mind if I search bodies first? I'd like to check for extra cash and ammo."

Lyudmila sighed. "Just don't take too long," she said. "We've both got places to be."

Six turned around and began combing through the dead's pockets. Apart from the occasional trinket and dog tags, there wasn't much to them. While it didn't take him long to empty their pockets, his mind kept drifting off to other places. There was something that bugged him.

Six glanced back at the entrance to the Sarcophagus. Or rather, at the retinal scanner. Whoever sealed the sarcophagus didn't bother to destroy it. Sure it can be argued that the intended users were long dead, but it was still a machine. Machines can be tampered with. Hacked. Yet it was still intact. Why? Did the old man hope for someone to pick up his torch?

Six looked at his Plasma Defender's holster, then back at the scanner. He could probably melt it with the Energy weapon. Deny access to anybody looking to enter. This world as it is just isn't capable of handling it like mature beings.

But what if they did reach that stage? A voice suggested. What if they grew out of their tribalistic squabbles and expansionism?

Six blinked. Was that-?

"Oi!" Lyudmila shouted. "Quit daydreaming and get a move on!"

Six shook his head. Now was not the best time to be having a conversation with himself. The Courier pocketed his goods and followed Lyudmila back to the exit. ED-E chirped something in binary but Six ignored its quips.

Six glanced back at the Sarcophagus one last time. It had so much potential, and yet here it lay gathering dust and cobwebs. But in this world's current climate, it would be ripe for abuse as well. As much as his inner scientist hated it, it was better off down here than in some warmonger's arsenal. His world already burned because of unhinged jingoism. This one shouldn't suffer as his did either.

And he'll make damn well sure that history never repeats itself here.

---

A/N:

And that more or less concludes Six's quest in Chernoberg. Of course, they still need to find a ride out, but they'll cross that bridge when they get there. First of all, yes that was Scout's rifle back there. One of the mercs had the audacity of looting it off of his body. Originally it was gonna be Ace's shield and garnered a reaction from Crownslayer, but after Vigilo came onto Global, I scraped it. Why? Because of the timeline. Plus, it'll give Six more options in the event he runs outta bullets.

And then there's Priestess. What the hell was she doing here? Was that even the real Priestess, or at least her spirit? Or was that just another hallucination? Hopefully not an eldritch abomination or AI appropriating her image as a mask. Well, she is connected to the Sarcohpocus, so I thought I'd throw her in. Funny thing; originally Six was gonna find his way into the Sarcophagus this chapter too. His curiosity would've been to blame for any suffering afterward, but that was scrapped too. He would've gained some type of implant from the procedure but I couldn't decide on what effect it would've had on the narrative. So that was thrown to the scrap heap.

And of course, Lyudmila is withholding her own share of secrets. Considering what Six discovered in that middle school, she dodged a bullet. At least for the time being.

Now onto the Kazdel side of things. First of all, yes there are actually Rust Devils (or rather an offshoot of them) in this fanfic. I placed them onto this roster of characters and factions early on because of their technological prowess. Fallout is rooted in science fiction, after all, and we'll be exploring RAW SCIENCE down the line.

So the next chapter will be wrapping things up on these dual plotlines. Rhodes Islands finds itself caught between a robot rumble and a raid. Some Devil-on-Devil action and a daring rescue to boot! Oh yeah, and yet another unannounced arrival onto Terra for our Operators to deal with.

On the Courier's side… eh, just trying to escape from a necropolis with a magical storm above it. After that, some relaxation for our dynamic duo (or at least for the sidekick. Good luck convincing the main hero to take a breather) and maybe a skit or two. After that… Well, let's just say that the Mojave isn't the only place with wandering medics.

So yeah, happy Valentine's Day, and hope to see y'all next chapter. Later!