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.

11. The Devils You Don't Know

Chapter 11: The Devils You Don't Know

Location: The Wasteland…?

Heat. Cold. Life. Death. Hunter. Prey. Day. Night. These have always been the constants of life in the Wasteland. There were too many variables to list, but nobody really was concerned about them. Especially not the local fauna- if you can call mutated wildlife and abominations of science 'fauna' that is.

As far as Deathclaws were concerned, everything simply was. Flying metal teeth were metal teeth. Roars of flames were flames. Flesh and bone were flesh and bone. Food was food. But this… this smelled different. Alien. New.

A few days ago, its pack had been confronted by an unknown force. A crimson sky and a shower of green lightning bolts appeared over their usual hunting grounds. This phenomenon startled their prey and made them scatter. Since then, the pack has been forced to venture beyond their territory for food. One of them was tracking some potential prey when the world changed. A green hue consumed its vision and it found itself in a new set of ruins.

At first glance, this was the same land that it knew. But the soil and air felt different. The invisible warmth- the poison of Man- was nowhere to be found. And speaking of Man, even those scrawny creatures felt off. It recognized their scent anywhere, but it was just as warped as the land around it. There were scents and elements it had never smelled before. Many things it couldn't name. And they had extra appendages too, things like tails and ears.

But there was a constant here; battle. War. It heard gunfire and the humans' battle cries. It heard blades swinging and tinmen rolling or waddling along. It even picked up the screeches of the rotting husks. All of these provided ample opportunities to feed. It could wait out the chaos and let the prey wear each other down. Then it would strike and feast on the victors' bones. Strange or not, humanity should taste all the same.

It sniffed around on the ground for other prey. It quickly discovered a patch of blood. It had already dried up days ago, but the scent was still fresh. Something was injured recently. One of the trails- the bleeders- smelled like someone at death's door. Perfect.

It looked back at the ongoing chaos. The anomalies were already pushing the normies back to their lair. Their tin hounds were being torn asunder by their raw might. The beast snarled. Deathclaws were apex predators, but even they can be crushed under the weight of a swarm. It was outnumbered and they were an unknown variable. With a huff and a growling stomach, it ran to the east.

---

Date: October 1st, 1099

Location: Staubstadt

Time: 4:50 PM

In the opposite direction, another party was conducting their own hunt. Projekt Red took the lead with her nose while her teammates flanked her. Nian covered her rear whereas Sesa and Franka watched her sides. As an extra precaution, everyone was carrying some alien weapon or another. Red had a hunting revolver, Sesa had the goop rifle and assault carbine, Nian the laser one, and Franka had a hunting shotgun. The majority of them didn't have Blacksteel training, but firearms were similar enough to crossbows that they quickly got the gist of handling them.

It was hardly difficult for Red to pick up Castle-3's scent. That unit reeked of oil, fumes, and rubber. The real trick was finding the entrance to their hideout without getting her head blown off. Just because her senses and reaction time were greater than her partners' didn't mean that she was invincible. At least she got friends to check for blind spots. At least she had backup.

Their hunt took them to the remains of another two-story building. One surrounded by several dead bodies. Most of them were mutilated in some form or another. Some were just heads on pikes. Some were Sarkaz, others offworlders. A few of them were those zombie-like creatures. Many of them were hamstrung in wires or crucified on the outer wall. Judging from the rate of decay, they've all been here for several days (assuming that the desert days and nights didn't disrupt said process). Everybody gagged at the sight, trying to contain their brunch.

"By Sui," Nian swore. "I've run into many bandit tribes but this…"

Red found the stench of death to be overwhelming. "This is their lair," she growled. "Don't need a nose to see that."

Franka swallowed, glancing around for the rest of her squadmates. None of them had arrived yet. She frowned. Hopefully, they'll find their way here soon… and hold onto their stomachs too.

Geez, she thought to herself. Even the Rusthammers aren't this brutal.

"Can you still smell Castle?" she asked their resident tracker. "Or at least his kidnappers?"

The tracker in question shook her head. "Too much death," she replied. "Hard to pick out the living among them."

"Then let's split up, gang. If you see a path forward or anything unusual, howler. Someone will rush over to ya."

Everybody nodded. Franka took up position at the (presumably) front entrance while Nian and Red ventured inside. Sesa decided to circle around the outside for any potential clues. It didn't take long for the duo to find a stairway to the second floor. Projekt Red went upwards while Nian continued exploring the first floor.

The dragon girl quickly found herself in what appeared to be a workshop. A workshop for robots. Parts and chassis surrounded her. Some were lying on the floor, some on tables and counters, some dangled above. There were treadmills, thrusters, arms, legs, heads, torsos, and so much more. But what caught her eye was a structure at the center of the room. It sat on a circular platform, possessing a terminal and sort of arch at the back. Two tools sat on each end, resembling soldering irons.

And standing on it was an inert robot. She wasn't a robotics expert, but it appeared to be cobbled together from various models. It had the central torso and eyestalk of the drill sergeant but was propped up on a set of feminine legs. In place of the other two optics were a set of arms, each ending in clamps. She waved her hand in front of its optic. No reaction. She snapped her fingers. Nothing either.

She smirked as she backed away from the contraption. Unfortunately, she bumped into another one. She spun around to see a metal pod sliding open, revealing an egg-shaped robot. It strutted out with its arms stretched forth, scanning the area. Its gaze quickly shifted to her.

"Tickets.. Please," it stuttered.

Nian cocked her head. "Excuse me?" she said.

"Subway tokens.. Are.. Required.. For all riders.. Please.. May I.. See yours?"

She looked around him in confusion. "Hate to break it to you buddy, but this ain't any sort of station," she said.

"Token.. Was not found.. Please.. Present a.. Subway token."

"Dude, we're above gro- ow!"

The Protectron fired a laser from one of its servos into her abdomen. "Delinquent behavior confirmed.. Violator.. Will be.. Removed," it announced.

Nian grunted and just shield-bashed the tincan onto the floor. While it was down, she pinned her shield on top of it and fired away with her laser rifle. That shut the machine up.

She heard a whirring sound behind her and turned just in time to block a punch from the Frankenstein from earlier. It clasped its servos on the edges of the shield and ripped it from her hand.

"Hey!" she snapped. "That's mine!"

The Scrapbot threw it back at Nian with an aggressive series of beeps, forcing her to duck. It used the opportunity to grab her arms and stretch them out. She tried to fire her temporary weapon at the drone, but it twisted the arm holding it. It forced her onto her knees as she squirmed. She tried to break free, but it had an iron grip. She could feel her joints pop and bend with each twist.

Something sliced off the arm restraining her trigger finger. The drone spun its optic to see Projekt Red behind it. While it was distracted, Nian shot off the remaining clamp and reclaimed her shield. Red hacked off its eye while Nian gave it a leg sweep. She fired every last ounce of energy in her cell, disintegrating the Scrapbot.

Nian let out a sigh of relief as she rubbed her joints. "Thank the gods," she said. "I thought that thing was gonna disarm me. Literally."

Red nodded curtly. "You're welcome," she said.

"Did you find anything?"

Again she nodded. "Bunk beds," the she-wolf revealed. "Someone's been using them recently."

"And you got their scent, I take it?"

Red motioned for her to follow. The two ladies came across a pair of cellar doors. Red knelt down and gave them a good sniff. She bolted back up with a concerned look on her face. Nian didn't like that.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Magallan," Red replied.

"Come again?"

"They brought Magallan and Castle through here."

Nian blinked. Magallan? She's here too? The dragon-girl walked over to the doors and tugged at their handles. They refused to budge. She drew out her laser rifle and aimed at the lock. All she got was a soft 'click'. She made an annoyed hiss and tossed the weapon aside. The only option left was to call for help. She blew a whistle with her fingers and the other half of their team came running.

"You find a way in?" Franka asked.

Nian pointed at the cellar entrance. "Yeah, but we have a bit of a problem."

"Lemme guess; it's locked."

"And they've got Magallan."

Franka blinked. "Maggy?" she said in disbelief. "Since when did they-"

A sudden realization kicked in. She slammed a hand against her face. "Stupid!" she muttered under her breath. "I shouldn't have left her alone like that."

"You can beat yourself up later," Nian said. "Right now someone needs to do something about those doors."

Franka looked at Sesa. The man nodded with a firm face and fired one of his cold phosphex grenades at the doors. The barriers creaked and moaned as they turned brittle. Nian slammed her shield into the doors, smashing them to pieces. Their fragments tumbled down a ramp and into a tunnelway. She gave a thumbs up to Red, who returned the gesture with a nod. Then her ears perked up. There was a strange whirring sound coming from downstairs. Was that a tread-?

Without warning, she pounced on Nian. A missile soared over their heads immediately after this, crashing into the ceiling above Franka. Their squad leader was buried under the rubble as Red help Nian back onto her feet. Everybody else backpedaled away from the cellar doors as Franka dug herself out. When the culprit rolled onto the stage, their jaws dropped.

Standing before them was something best described as a miniature tank. The robot was bulky and broad as hell, towering over even the likes of Mountain. Its primary means of locomotion were a trio of mecanum wheels. One of its arms appeared to be a minigun of some form. The other was more difficult to identify, but Franka swore she saw a missile or two in it. The cherry on top was the pair of mortars on its back. A crimson light poured out of its visor as it glared down at the intruders.

"Attention intruders," the robot announced. "You are trespassing on private property. Vacate the premises immediately or you may be fired upon without further warning."

Franka just stared at the robot for a few more seconds before shaking her head. "Not unless you return our friends," she demanded.

Everybody's muscles tensed as the Gatling gun revved up.

"Request denied," retorted the tank before it opened fire.

Everybody scattered as bullets filled the hall. Projekt Red made a beeline for the tunnel but was blocked off by the robot. She managed to leap over it, though, and ran down the ramp. The robot locked onto her and rotated 180 degrees, firing its chaingun again. She gracefully dodged the bullets but was sent rolling across the floor when a missile landed near her. The robot would've given chase were its attention not divided. Franka and Sesa threw suppressive fire at it, shifting its focus onto them. Every pellet and bolt of plasma merely bounced off its armor.

The robot rotated 180 degrees again and returned fire. Nian called upon her Arts as the bullets collided with her shield. She smirked at the machine with a look that screamed 'What now, asshole'? Its response was to ram itself into her. That sent the poor shard of divinity flying into Franka. Sesa fell back onto his launcher and lobbed grenades at the drone. They didn't seem to fare any better.

Franka and Nian helped each other back up onto their feet. They just stared in disbelief at the robot as it weathered through one explosive after another. Franka charged at it with her blade but it swat her aside like a fly. She painfully collided with one of the many tables of the workshop, knocking all of its contents onto the floor. She groaned as she rose back up. It suddenly occurred to her just how cramped this room really was. Not the best place for tangling with a goddamn burdenbeast.

"Fallback!" Franka ordered. "Fallback and lure that thing outside with us!"

Sesa and Nian gave a curt nod and grunt, following their leader outside. Sesa covered the rear of their escape, launching grenades to keep the robot's optics glued onto them. The Annihilator sentry bot pursued its prey, smashing through everything in its way. Tight doorways, furniture, walls, even the inert chassis of other bots. It left a trail of destruction chasing after the fleshlings.

Everyone skidded to a stop outside. Sesa tossed Nian the assault carbine and some ammo before reloading his grenade launcher. Franka took the time to reload her hunting shotgun as well. Their moment of reprieve was broken when the sentry bot tore through the wall next to them. The minigun was already spinning as it rolled up to and glared down at its targets.

"Okay, so we've got Mr. Overkill's attention," Nian sarcastically noted. "Now what?"

Franka smirked as she reignited her thermite blade. "What do you think?" she replied. "We hold the line!"

---

Date: October 1st, 1099

Location: Müllstad

Time: 4:49 PM

Things have been relatively uneventful for the most part. Apart from the arrival of Rhodes Island, nothing really interesting had popped up. At least, to the majority of the village. For a select few, there was a great deal of stress. Three or four people were in the sick house awaiting treatment. Two of them were stable, two were clinging to life. It didn't help that one of the latter was a mystery.

Brändle and Olegario weren't too difficult. The former just had some bullets pierce his skin. The elderly Sarkaz woman- Eloise- had already treated him before Rhodes Island arrived. He just needed rest. Olegario had some second-degree burns. Not deep enough to melt his nerves, thankfully, but enough to leave some scars. Still, he'll be able to return to a relatively normal life.

Marius and Albert were of greater concern to her. The former had suffered third-degree burns, maybe even fourth degree considering the loss of his right arm. Half of his brain had shut down due to all of the painkillers in his body. From what little he could tell her, he had already lost all sense of feeling in his remaining hand. No surprise, considering its webbed shape. Ceylon gave him a dose of antibiotics to ward off any potential infections. It didn't hurt to change his bandages either.

But Albert- the enigma in the room- proved to be the most challenging. First of all, he was dehydrated as hell. Hooking an IV into him helped maintain his hydration levels. He was also expelling blood via his vomit and stools, so he had to have some infusions. His flaking skin was a particularly big headache. Some new skin could theoretically be grown, but none of the equipment needed was in town. The best they could do was bandage the exposed tissue before any infection could take hold.

Then Ceylon asked Eloise about her son's medical history. He had no signs of Oripathy, nor did his family have a history of any sort of illness. They both lived healthy lives thanks to the resources available in the village. After exhausting all of her questions, Ceylon decided to take a blood sample from the patient. Eloise donated some of hers as well, suggesting that it'd be used for comparison with Albert's. They were relatives, after all.

Easier said than done when the patient has so little blood, to begin with. When she finally got enough for the microscope, she made some strange discoveries. The first was how few white blood cells there were. The second was a significant number of foreign particles in his bloodstream. She tilted her head. Where in the world did those come from? She'll have to get back to Rhodes Island to be able to properly identify them.

She went back to Albert's to collect another blood bag from his IV pole. As she got close to the IV line, she heard a clicking sound. It was faint, but she was able to trace the source to her belt. It was her Geiger counter. She raised an eyebrow as she upholstered it. It stopped clicking as soon as she brought it to her face. She glanced back down to see a stand beside her. It held a worn rag, soaked in a fresh layer of bloody vomit.

She lowered the device over the soiled cloth. It was clicking again. She glanced back at the IV pole. She brought the Geiger counter to the bag hanging on it. Same results. She ran back to the microscope, scanning the patient's first sample. Again it was clicking. Her eyes widened as she processed the implications. She whistled Eloise over to her table and showed this discovery to her. She was as stunned as the younger woman was.

"You're kidding me," Eloise said.

Ceylon shook her head. "Your son has Acute Radiation Sickness."

The two women stood there, trying to come up with a rational explanation for this. While Arts made many things possible, they had never heard of any that could manipulate Gamma radiation. Ceylon looked up at the elder.

"One of the nearby ruins was used as a dumping ground, correct?" she asked. "Could it be that some radioactive material-like say Cesium-137- has found its way into Staubstadt?"

"You mean carried over by the wind? I don't think so. If that were the case, my son's buddies would've been affected by it too. And even if something blew onto them, we gave 'em all a good wash when they got back. This honestly feels like Arts to me."

Ceylon turned back to her equipment with a hand on her chin. Something wasn't adding up. She could feel it in her gut. But right now her patients' health took priority. At least now they had a clue as to what was ailing them.

"Do you have any Potassium Iodide? Or perhaps Diethylenetriamine pentaacetate? Radiogardase?"

The woman nodded, running into her office to grab something. While the elder was away, Mudrock approached the Medic. She placed a piece of paper next to the microscope without a word. Ceylon picked it up and gave it a quick look.

It was a colored drawing of their query. Fair skin and dark-chocolate hair, just as April described. From the way he was drawn, he must've been in Schwarz's age group. He didn't have anything that pointed to his race, though. No horns, no extra ears, a set of standard pupils for his eyes. Not even pointy ears like a Durin or Vampire. And speaking of eyes, they were a rather rich shade of green. There was a side note with an arrow pointing to them; 'same color as his bolts'.

Bolts? Ceylon thought. Like from a crossbow or some type of energy? Wait, didn't Brändle mention something about one of his pistols firing a glowing sludge?

There was something else that stood out. Two small scars on his head. One on the forehead, one to his left. From their shape and size, they must've been from a bolt or even a bullet. She looked back at Mudrock.

"Do these look like bolt wounds to you?" she asked.

Mudrock shook her head. "Everybody I spoke to claimed those were caused by bullets," she replied.

Ceylon just looked at her dumbfounded. Bullets? He survived two bullets to the head and continued functioning like a normal human? With no signs of Oripathy whatsoever? Either he was saved by a bloody good medic or was flat-out lucky.

But there was a slight complication. Even if he endured two consecutive headshots, he was bound to have some brain damage. She wasn't a neurosurgeon, but she knew just how delicate the brain was. For all anybody knew, he was probably living on borrowed time. Or at least teetering on a thin line between sanity and insanity.

A loud 'boom!' sounded off outside. The sickhouse quaked as some people ran inside. Mudrock and Ceylon ran to the entrance to investigate. Brändle cursed in Leithanian and rose from his bed to investigate. Ceylon tried to drag him back but he easily shook her off.

"Oi!" he shouted to someone. "The bloody hell's going on?"

"Hell, that's what!" retorted a villager, pointing at the entrance.

Brändle and the ladies looked at each other with puzzled looks before another explosion went off. This time half of a man went flying by the sickhouse. That prompted the trio to run outside and investigate.

It was utter chaos. Some of the houses were burning, some being blown to pieces. The villagers fared no better, many of them falling to bandits. Bandits with robots and guns. Ceylon locked up in sheer horror at the sight of a hulking figure carrying a flamer. There was a deranged, feminine cackling coming from the mechanized arsonist as she waltzed through the village.

"I wanna set the world on fiyah!" Milly sang. "I wanna start a flame in your FUCKING RIBCAGE!"

Several tiny projectiles flew past the trio. All of them turned to see a flying bulb with three eyes and appendages, carrying an SMG and a flamer. While it beeped in an angry tone at them, a purple light collided with it. This sent the machine spinning out of control, dazing it long enough for a cloaked figure to clobber it with a hammer. The optical sensors flicked offline after the main body was pulverized.

Two figures entered the scene. Both of them had some manner of a hooded cloak, yet each one's build was drastically different. One of them was lean and carried a scepter. The other was more board and armored. The former's face was concealed by a high collar, the other a horned gasmask. She recognized them from the riot at Wolumonde.

The Whisperer and Zealot rushed to her cover.

"Kommandantin!" Greeted the Zealot. "Never thought I'd see you again."

"The feeling's mutual, Erdmann," Mudrock replied. "But there's no need to address me with such a title anymore. I've left that life behind me."

A missile collided with a nearby hut, raining rotten wood and rusty iron down on the party.

"Tell that to them," the Whisperer dryly retorted, pointing her thumb at the power-armored monstrosity.

"Where are the guards? And the rest of your comrades?"

The Zealot's shoulders slumped slightly. "Dead. Most of our squadmates kicked the bucket before this shite-storm showed up. All that's left are myself and Melody. There's still Brändle and some rebel buddies of his, but they ain't Sarkaz. As for the sentries, well…"

He pointed at the ruined watchtowers. "Might be some boots left on the ground level. Can't say that luck's on their side, though."

The Whisper- Melody- looked back at Mudrock. "As much as I hate to say it, none of us had an eye for tactical thinking like you… 'sir'? 'Madam'? We could really use your guidance."

Mudrock froze up. It had been a long time since she led anyone to battle. Even longer she had been in the company of her old squad. Memories of Wolumonde and the journey were replaying themselves in the back of her mind. All that chaos, all that bloodshed. And for what? For the Reunion name to be dragged through the mud all over again? For some deranged Casters to use her fellow warriors as guinea pigs?

She looked at the chaos surrounding them. The villagers running, fighting, dying. She lost so many friends before she joined Rhodes Island. And now these people were losing theirs. Her grip on her hammer tightened.

"We need to get the civilians out of the crossfire," Mudrock said. "What's the best place for them to hold out at?"

Melody pointed at a farm behind their former leader. It sat alone on a hill, looking down on the rest of the village. There were fortifications surrounding it, such as barbed wire and guard posts. Might seem out of place in the big cities, but it made perfect sense out here. A farm was usually the biggest target for raiders, and as such typically held the most defenses in a settlement.

Mudrock looked back at her subordinates. "All of you fall back to the farmstead. Gather as many civilians as you can and eliminate anyone that threatens them ."

Then she turned to Ceylon. "You should join them too," she continued. "Tend to any wounded soul they bring back."

She saw where this was going, and she was already ill at ease. "What about you?" Ceylon asked with a taut undertone.

Mudrock called upon her Arts. Dark energy began swirling around her, taking on a shape resembling a glass dome. She placed her helmet back on.

"I'll be having a long talk with their leader," Mudrock said.

Mudrock made a beeline for the bandit leader, letting out a battle cry. Every raider within earshot shifted their focus on the hulking figure in white garbs. They noticed her trajectory and jumped between her and their leader. The raiders quickly got into formation, melee at the forefront while the gunners hung back.

A Greasemonkey was the first to fall, swinging his wrench at her. Her swinging arm rammed into his abdomen, tearing him in half. He had a look of horror and disbelief as the light in his eyes flickered out. His buddies were more cautious, opting to surround her. They all stuck as one, cracking her shield open. She retaliated by spinning around with her hammer. All of their heads went flying off.

A gunshot sounded off as something collided with her shield. All that remained of it was floating around her knees. She called upon her Arts to bring up a wall of Earth as another bullet came at her. The barrier thankfully caught it. She peeped her head out to see the rest of the party ahead. Most of them were using a rifle of some kind, all of them seemingly crafted from scrap and junk. One of them seemed to fire nails rather than bullets. Another seemed to be firing laser bolts.

She commanded the earth to carry her barrier forward. The goons scattered as the wall came crashing toward them. One of them wasn't quick enough to evade the wall, though. He got buried for his troubles. Just as her shield had grown back to her shoulders, someone opened fire on her again. It was a mook with a handmade shotgun. She knocked the weapon out of his hands while he was reloading. His jaw was the next thing to fly away, while his neck snapped from the force of the impact.

A laser slashed into her suit. She looked to see a woman in leather armor. A couple more blasts took down her shield as she charged forth, but she shrugged off the laser fire. As she closed in, the raider panicked and dropped the weapon. She tried to hightail it, but Mudrock's hammer was faster. Her spine was crushed under the native's instrument.

A whistle blew in the distance. She turned to receive a railroad spike in the left arm. Thankfully her makeshift gel layer- or rather, a layer of soil and sediment- took the brunt of the blow. She ripped it out of her suit just as another flew by her neck. The raider ahead had the strangest weapon of all. From what she could tell, it was crafted from a pressure cooker, a crutch, and a steam gauge.

She brought up another wall of earth to block off a barrage of nails and bullets. She waited until her ward was fully charged, then slammed a fist into the wall. It crumbled and formed a dust storm, blinding the enemy. The raiders panicked and unloaded everything in their weapons, praying to hit something, anything. Mudrock closed the distance between herself and them with minimal damage. One was knocked out with a single punch while the other had both of his legs crippled. His skull was splattered across the wasteland shortly afterward.

Another gunshot went off. This time she felt multiple pellets pierce her hazmat suit, but once again makeshift layer caught them. She spun to see another shotgunner, though his weapon seemed more pristine. Now that she thought about it, it resembled Executor's own longarm. She brushed those thoughts aside and parried the weapon outta the raider's hand. His neck was bent in an awkward angle a second later.

She was closing in on their leader by now. Just a few more meters and-

Something tackled her to the ground, pounding away at her. It was another robot, though this one was far more humanoid. A trio of optics stared down at her as it pinned both arms with its pincers. Heat and a crimson light began to build up around the largest sensor as it glared down at her. She swung her leg at one of the robot's own, snapping it right off the joint. This threw it off balance, loosening its grip on her as it dropped to a literal knee.

Mudrock slipped an arm out of its claws and grabbed its head. She forced its gaze upwards, redirecting the laser towards the skies. Once it died down, she turned the tables. She pinned the robot's back to the earth and began pulling at its skull. It clawed at her, but it could never breach her suit. With a howl, she tore the Assaultron's head right off its shoulders. The unit powered down.

A scream caught her attention. She turned to see the bandit leader roasting one of the villagers. She was cackling like a madwoman while her fellow Sarkaz burned. Mudrock sneered and charged at the bitch. By the time she sensed movement, her hammer had already collided with her chassis.

The woman yelped as she dropped the flamer and stumbled back. Mudrock followed up with a flurry of swings, beating the raider like a dinner bell. The bitch brought her mechanized arms up in time to block them. She managed to duck under one of her strikes and threw a one-two punch. That broke through the Defender's shields, forcing her to leap back and let them recharge. Milly used the opportunity to retrieve her Energy weapon and reignite it.

Mudrock grunted as the fire collided with her suit. Thankfully it's flame retardant, but that didn't make it immune. The makeshift gel layer of soil didn't really help with repelling the heat either. She needed to get rid of that flamethrower before she boiled. She charged at the raider and tackled her, grabbing her weapon by the nozzle and bending it. The woman stared at her in disbelief.

"The fuck!?" Milly said. "How did you-?"

Mudrock's reply came in the form of hammer time. And this time she managed to smash the armor plating. Piece by piece she exposed more and more of the chassis underneath.

Then something unexpected happened. The raider caught her hammer mid-swing and ripped it outta her hands! The two of them found themselves in a game of fisticuffs. The raider was clearly the more experienced in the field and quickly shattered her shield. Each punch from her rusty knuckles ripped through the Sarkaz's hazmat suit, drawing out more and more of her earthly cushion. Her helmet went flying off without anything for it to latch onto.

Eventually, all that remained of the suit were the exo-skeleton and scraps of cloth. And by that point, Mudrock was already covered in bruises and cuts. The Iron Devil performed a German suplex on the Sarkaz and stomped on her abdomen. Mudrock tried to pry the mechanical foot off of her, but she wasn't in any shape to do so. The raider let out a dark chuckle and whistled. One of her surviving mates brought her the pristine shotgun from earlier. She smirked as she brought it to the girl's forehead.

"You know, this local gang once told me that ya kind are nothing but devils," she said. "Barbarians. They hyped you up to be badasses before I blew their brains out. But so far I'm fucking disappointed."

"Who are you?" Mudrock asked.

"Real devils," Milly replied. "IRON Devils, to be precise. I guess you could say we're new arrivals. People around here certainly don't seem to know of us. That's gonna change today."

The roar of a motor interrupted their conversation. Milly turned and squinted her eyes to see a small dust storm up ahead. She could barely make out a glint before something flew past her leg…

And into the flamer's fuel tank. An explosion erupted between Milly and her goon, setting them both on fire. The raider tried to roll around on the earth, but he died from smoke inhalation and shock. A motorcycle sped past them and decapitated another raider before skidding to a stop. Mudrock blinked. It was Schwarz and Cliffheart.

The flames quickly found and seeped through some openings in her Power Armor. She screamed as they licked her skin and hair, scorching them. She tried to extinguish the flames on her scalp with her suit's servos, but those did jackshit. So she got outta the frame and started rolling around. That extinguished the flames… and released her prey.

Milly's eyes went wide as she realized her mistake. The next thing she knew, the earth had swallowed her up to her neck. She was spat back out onto the surface, encased in a cocoon of stone. She looked up to see Mudrock rising onto her feet and staring back down at the raider. Further off into the distance, the newcomers were mopping the floor with the rest of her goons.

Milly looked at Mudrock with bewildered eyes as she reclaimed her hammer and helmet. "How…" she uttered.

Mudrock glanced back at the raider. "What? You've never seen Arts before?"

"Arts? That what you people call fucking witchcraft?" Milly replied. "Energy weapons I can kinda get behind, but bending the goddamned earth? What the fuck is this, a comic book?"

Mudrock raised her eyebrow. Comic books? Does she honestly think that Arts are the stuff of fiction? How the hell could she and her minions fire those guns anyway? Most people needed years of training to even fire a pistol.

She noticed the shotgun on the ground and picked it up. Engraved on it were the words 'Winchester City-Killer'. She unloaded the weapon and examined the shell casings. To her shock, she felt no originium in them.

She walked over to the ruined flamer and examined that as well. She recalled seeing flamethrowers in Dublinn's hands, but they looked nothing like the one before her. The label was smudged, but she was able to wipe the gunk away. It read 'Flambe 450'. She hovered her hand over the shrapnel that was once the fuel tank. Surprise, no originium either. She did pick up a distinct smell, though. Some type of chemical.

She heard footsteps behind her. She turned to see a slightly bruised Schwarz and Cliffheart walking towards them.

"The perimeter is secured," Schwarz reported. "All threats have been neutralized. The survivors are rounded up at the center plaza."

Mudrock smiled. "You have my thanks," she said. "But what are you doing here?"

"Following those assholes," Cliffheart said, pointing at the chieftess. "There's a pack of them prowling in Staubstadt. Franka gave the order to eliminate them shortly before these ones departed. Ice queen and I followed suit."

Schwarz made an audible 'hmpt' at the nickname.

"And the villagers?" Mudrock asked.

"Safe with Lady Ceylon at the farmstead," said Schwarz.

Mudrock let out a sigh of relief. It was then that Schwarz noticed the shotgun in Mudrock's hand.

"You… didn't happen to find any Originium in her weapons, did you?" she asked.

Mudrock shook her head. "None of the bandits were Sankta either," she observed. "And I swear one of them was flinging lasers at me before you arrived."

Schwarz's brows and cat ears furrowed. "I see…" she said. "I would like to speak with the surviving raiders before we decide their fate."

Cliffheart blinked. "You mean interrogate them?" she asked. "Why so interested in them all of a sudden?"

"Need-to-know basis," Schwarz said. "Do you have any suggestions for a place to conduct them?" she asked. "I'd rather not let the villagers or Lady Ceylon walk in on the sessions."

Mudrock looked around. Her eyes fell upon a tall building not far from their position. It appeared to be a church, judging from the architecture. She motioned Schwarz towards it. The Feline assassin gave her a nod of approval.

"Help me get them inside," Schwarz said to the two ladies.

They complied, with Mudrock lifting Milly's prison over her shoulder like a logger with fresh wood. The raider and Cliffheart blinked in astonishment at the Sarkaz's strength. Sometimes it was easy to forget how strong she really was. It took them a couple of minutes of walking back and forth, but the Rhodes Islanders managed to get every surviving raider inside the old church. During this time Cliffheart also took care to retrieve the raider's weapons and lock them in the dropship. They can be brought back to Rhodes Island for study later.

The inside of the church wasn't anything to write back to base about. Rotting wood, stubby remains of candles, faded and torn banners. Even a bell on the top floor. Nothing identified the main faith practiced under this roof. And something told Mudrock that there wasn't any sort of religion being practiced in Müllstad these days.

Mudrock freed Milly from her stone coffin, restraining the asshole long enough for Schwarz to tie her up. Once her feet and hands were bound, she was thrown in front of an altar (or at least the crumbling vestige of one) with her fellow marauders.

"See if there's a spare suit for you back at the dropship," Schwarz ordered Mudrock. "Cliffheart, return to Lady Ceylon and watch over her."

"What about you?" Mudrock asked. "Are you comfortable being alone with… them?"

Didn't take an empath to sense the concern in her voice. All of them had already seen what they and their robots were capable of with those guns. Their leader had also proven herself to be a capable boxer. Despite this, Schwarz gave the younger girls a confident nod.

"I've dealt with worse scum than them," she assured the duo. "Just get Milady to patch you two up. You both need medical attention more than I do."

Clifheart snorted. "It's just cuts, girl," she said. "Ain't like I've got broken bones."

"But your cuts can act as entry points for infections. You two already have your Oripathy to deal with. I'd rather not hear Ceylon chew you out over that."

Cliffheart snickered. "Alright, big sis," she teased. "We'll get going. Call us if you need anything."

The assassin nodded as the explorer ventured off. Mudrock, on the other hand, lingered before departing. Schwarz closed the church doors, praying that they wouldn't snap off of their hinges and fall atop her. She walked back to the gang tied up before her.

"Alright. Start talking before I start breaking bones," she threatened.

---

Date: October 1st, 1099

Location: Staubstadt

Time: 5:01 PM

The past few minutes have been agonizingly slow. To Projekt Red, it felt like an hour. She had done nothing but tiptoe her way through enemy turf while sniffing the air for her friends. That wasn't to say that it was uneventful, though. Far from it.

She had run into some of the raiders and machines down here. Some of the drones were floating eyeballs, others walking egg-shaped clankers. Most of them possessed some sort of firearm or directed energy weapon. Most of them didn't know what hit 'em when she pounced. The few that did never had the chance to warn their friends.

They all had an otherworldly stench to them. The meatbags were similar to Rainbow Team, yet their scent stood out from theirs. Like a distant cousin who refused to bathe. They reeked of a certain decay, something Ash and her crew hadn't been exposed to. Something she couldn't name. It was completely alien to her.

It was no secret that her brain processed the world in a different manner than most people. In some respects, she could perceive things most couldn't. The aforementioned stench would be one of those. Yet some things were elusive to her senses as well. Some colors and concepts at the very least. The scientists and medics at Rhodes Island had a hard time pinning the exact specifics down. Regardless, her unique perspective had proven beneficial to them so far.

Her friends and their captors were not the first to be down here. There were other scents here too. Faint, but still present. Someone built this bunker years ago. She didn't know who, but she could at least gauge the purpose behind its construction. Bunkers were built to serve as shelters, safe-havens. Kazdel has been engulfed in war for the past few years. Who it once belonged to didn't matter to her, though. She had a mission.

The trail led to a small chamber. There were workbenches along the walls, while scrapmetal lay in every corner in and beyond the room. Projekt Red clung to the ceiling and peeped her head around a corner. There, all tied and beaten up was Magallan. Castle-3 sat in a corner in the back, already in the process of being dismantled. And with them were two men.

Both of them lacked the standard kibble of the Terrans. Horns, extra ears, tails, gills. They were as bland as a loaf of bread. The one that intrigued her was the withered one. He looked like a walking corpse and certainly smelled like one too. His eyes were coated in a beady, pitch-black material. In all her missions, she never encountered a being like the husk.

The zombie-man was leaning against one of the workbenches with a hunting revolver in his hand. He was having a pleasant interrogation with Magallan. His smoothskin minion was tinkering away at some hexagonal object. He had a strange skull hat atop his head, branded with tribal markings. The two metal egg-bots flanked each side of the entrance. Their backs were to the huntress, though.

The smoothskin brought the contraption to his face. "I dunno, Bronte," the raider says. "Your Gamma gun seems to be in mint condition to me. No dents in its dish, no ruptures in any of its Gamma cells. Not even loose wiring. What makes you think it's malfunctioning?"

The shriveled one- Bronte- shrugged. "Can't quite put my finger on it," he confessed. "But something felt off when I pulled the trigger a couple of days ago."

"You mean when that trio of scavs was prowling around?"

He nodded. "Felt even stranger when I hit myself with it. It felt… off. Different somehow."

The man snickered. "A Ghoul complaining about gamma radiation?" he snorted. "Must be a cold day in hell."

Magallan tilted her head. "Gamma radiation?" she asked. "Like… from X-rays?"

The smoothskin burst into laughter. "Just listen to this bimbo," he taunted. "She doesn't know what the fuck gam-"

The device went off without warning, blasting him with green energy. The man swore as he stumbled around in a lethargic gait, while Maggy's Geiger counter went off. Thankfully her suit shielded her from… whatever that green stuff was. The raider keeled over the workbench, struggling to contain his lunch.

Bronte sighed and tossed a crimson IV bag at the other marauder. Projekt Red sniffed the air as the mystery item flew over. That didn't smell like blood in that bag. If anything it reeked of chemicals. As soon as the man injected the substance into himself, he let out a sigh of relief.

"Thanks," he breathed.

"You're welcome," Bronte said before turning back to Maggy. "Lass, do you know what a Ghoul is?"

Maggy shook her head. "A type of Vampire? Or maybe a race of Sarkaz?"

The shriveled one chuckled. "Vampire?" Bronte snorted. "That's the first time someone's called me that. Usually, it's just 'zombie'. But to answer your question, no. I don't need to drink blood or sleep in coffins like some pre-war boogieman."

"Ain't there vampires in the DC area?" piped in the other raider.

Another snort escaped from the ghoul. "You really need to stop listening to all that gossip, pal," he said.

Magallan tilted her head again. "Then what is a Ghoul?" she asked.

The man grasped at where the bridge of his nose once rested. He sighed.

"A heavily irradiated person," he revealed. "Most people just roll over and die after a certain dosage of gamma radiation. People like me are lucky enough to survive. How exactly is beyond me. Genetics? Exposure to the Forced Evolutionary Virus? Black magic? All anybody knows is that a truckload of Rads is the trigger."

"Dudes like him get an extra century or two of life," the smoothskin butted in. "Plus heavy resistance to Rads. Frankly, I'm jealous."

Bronte snickered. "Really? At least you don't have to deal with losing your hair and skin. At least you smoothskins stay fertile. I, on the other hand, will never have kids of my own. There's also the risk of going Feral. Oh, and dealing with bigots."

Bronte pushed himself from the workbench. "But enough about me," he said. "What about you? The hell are you from?"

"Columbia. You?"

"Virginia." he pointed back at the smoothskin with his thumb. "Eran is from Nevada."

"Never heard of those."

"And I've been to a dozen places called Columbia. You sure you're not the one sleeping under a rock?"

He knelt his face down to her level. "And here's a more pressing one; what the hell are you and your buddies doing around here? Y'all are obviously looking for something."

Magallan's lips locked up. Red's grip on her knife grew tighter.

"...We're looking for a Courier," she confessed. "He called himself 'Six'."

Something shattered in the workshop. Everybody turned their heads towards Eran. A piece of glass had fallen onto the floor and exploded into shards. The man himself slowly turned with a terrified look on his face.

"S-sie-seh-six?" he stuttered. "As in, 'Courier number Six'? The fucking king of New Vegas? He's here!?"

That reaction intrigued both Operators, to say the least. Magallan in particular resisted the urge to grin.

"Maybe?" she said in a teasing voice. "You make it sound like I should know his name."

The man's eyes began to flare. "Should kn-," he snapped. "That bastard dug his way outta his own grave and conquered the Mojave Wasteland! Kicked the NRC and Caesar's Legion off of Hoover Dam after kicking House's ass! And wiped the floor with my old gang's head honchos to boot! Motor-runner, Violet, Driver Nephi, even fucking Cook-Cook! He butchered them all!"

"Calm down, Eran," Bronte said. "He's-"

"He was here a few days ago," Magallan claimed. "Made his way to Siracusa and slaughtered a local mafia family. He's making his way back east if our intel's correct. Maybe even here…"

Now the smoothskin was hyperventilating. "Ohgodohgodohgodohgod," he whimpered. "He's here to finish the job, ain't he?"

Eran broke off into a deranged sprint. "BUT HE'S NOT GETTING ME!" he shouted across the hall.

If he weren't in a panic, he would've seen Projekt Red around the corner. Bronte growled and yelled for Eran to return to the interrogation chamber. He turned back to Magallan with a glare.

"You, young lady, have a big fat mouth," he sneered.

Red chose that moment to strike. She threw a knife at some important-looking device on the Protectron scourge's back. He went berserk and started firing everywhere. One of the bolts missed Red's wolf ears by an inch. Bronte retaliated by unloading every bullet in his revolver into the robot's chassis. That was more than enough to put it down. Then he noticed the knife embedded in the combat inhibitor's remains.

Red decided to reveal herself to the rest of the raiders. She toppled over the teal-colored robot and ran towards Bronte. The Ghoul didn't have time to reload so he grabbed a knife and ducked under Red's swing. Red herself parried his attack and started plumbing away at him. He grabbed a blocky pistol-looking device and shot crimson lasers at her. She gracefully dodged each bolt and sliced off the bastard's arm. While he was howling in pain she quickly leaped over Magallan and cut her free.

"Thanks," Magallan said. "Don't suppose you have an extra knife?"

Red tossed her the hunting revolver and its holster. Magallan gave her a perplexed look.

"No originium in it or its bullets," she explained. "Just need to aim and reload."

Their Geiger counters started clicking. The ladies turned to see the man firing caustic-green energy at himself from the so-called Gamma Gun. He placed his severed arm in the socket it had been removed from and activated the device. To their horror, its fingers started twitching. Skin and muscle regenerated and stitched the arm back into place. Every other injury he received disappeared as well.

Bronte gave the ladies a wolfish grin. "The best part about being a Ghoul?" he boasted. "It's that you can always count on Rads to patch you up."

He reloaded his revolver and fired. Both girls darted scattered to avoid being shot. Maggy was unfortunate enough to catch a bullet in her leg, crippling it. When his smallarm ran dry, he took cover behind the remaining Protectron and lifted it back onto its feet. Its immediate response was to fire lasers at them.

And to run its Insult Bot subroutine of course.

"Targets acquired," Zig droned. "Knock knock. Who's there? An organic.. Being.. With a.. Finite life sp-"

Magallan emptied a full barrel into the robot's chassis. It went down with audible snaps and crunches.

"...Zing!" was its last word before it exploded.

Bronte was thrown back by the explosion, knocking his laser pistol out of his hand. He was forced back to Queen's Rules with Red again, this time falling into the defense. Their fight took them back into the hall, giving him more room to maneuver around the Lupo's swings and stabs. He managed to land a couple of each himself before a laser collided with his skin.

He growled as he caught a glimpse of the Liberi back at the workshop, holding his energy weapon. But he still had his Gamma gun. He just had to aim at red riding hood and-

She severed his leg. With a short yelp, he hopped backward, trying to maintain his balance. He fired the Gamma gun, splashing the wolf-girl with radiation. A laser sliced off his other leg, toppling him. He snarled in pain as he crawled away, with more red lights raining down on him. Eventually, the assassin recovered and pounced on him, knocking his makeshift weapon outta his hands.

And she ended this struggle by twisting his head around 270 degrees. Soon as she heard that sickening snap she released her grip. The Ghoul stopped breathing. She let out a sigh of relief, though her fingers fell upon her forehead as she rose.

"Are you alright?" Magallan called out.

Projekt Red nodded slightly. "A little nauseated," she confessed. "But otherwise, I'm fine."

Maggy rummaged through the junk in the workshop and found a first aid kit. Inside were some strange needles and another IV bag. She took the latter and ran to the Lupo assassin. Red raised an eyebrow as she examined it. It was certainly the same type as what Eran injected himself with. There was also a label on it; 'RadAway'.

"Try this," she suggested. "That scaredy-cat injected it into himself after he messed around with that weird gun."

Red glanced at the hexagonal energy weapon and then back at the bag. True, that man seemed to have had a positive reaction to the stuff, but what about her? She was a Lupo. For all she knew it could be toxic to her kind. Red cast a skeptical glance at the explorer. Magallan gently urged her to give it a shot anyway.

Red relented and injected herself with Rad-Away. She felt a subtle weight fade away. It was easier to focus and breathe now.

Something fell with a sudden 'thud!' Both girls jumped as a bowling ball rolled from a corner at a t-junction. They crept up and peeked around to see Eran sucking in fumes from some inhaler. The look on his face screamed 'high as fuck' to them.

"Hooo… yeah…" he sighed in oblivious bliss. "That's just what the dock-tah ordered."

He turned his gaze towards them with a blissful look on his face. That mirth dried up when his brain actually began to register them.

"Oh hell no!" he shouted, drawing a 10 mm pistol.

Projekt Red was a quicker draw. She threw a knife into his shoulder, throwing off his aim. The next one went right into his jugular. He fell to the floor drowning in his own blood.

"You couldn't have left him alive for interrogation?" Maggy said.

Red shrugged sheepishly. "Instinct," she said. "Will try to reign it in next time."

Maggy looked back at the workshop. Something about her gaze seemed off to the Lupo. When she looked back at Red, there was a concerned look in her eyes.

"What's wrong?" Red asked.

"Their leader left for a raid a while ago."

"Raid? Where?"

"...Müllstad."

Projekt Red's muscles tensed up. How the hell could they have gotten past them? Past her?! The answer came to her in the form of a map. It had several rooms and other areas labeled on it—barracks, workshops, a kitchen, water purifier, command room, garage-

She blinked as her eyes fell onto an icon in a corner. It was a winding mountain (or drill?) within a circle. Part of the bottom appeared to have been scratched off, though. Red narrowed her eyes. Something about it seemed familiar…

Red shook her head. "We need to warn Ceylon and Mudrock."

Red pulled up her walkie-talkie and tried to contact them, but all she got was static. She growled and tried Franka or Liskarm instead. Static again. This bunker must be scrambling their signals. Her ears dropped as her brows furrowed.

"Fix Castle and head to the garage," she ordered. "I've got to warn Franka."

Magellan nodded in agreement as Red tore the map off of the wall. She ran back to the workshop while Red ran back to the surface. Maggy opened up a tool kit and sat beside Castle-3's inert chassis. She had some basic training from Mayer and Closure. Time to put those lessons to good use.

---

Back on the surface…

Things were getting more and more interesting by the second. First Franka and Liskarm tell them that another offworlder- from the same realm as Rainbow Team no less- had made their way onto Terra. Yet on the flight to Kazdel, she also tells them that this individual is carrying some rather exotic technology. Nothing like what the first newcomers carried. Unfortunately, they ran into less pleasant individuals instead.

That floating eyebot the trio spotted earlier had led them into a pack of raiders and robots. Waddling egg-shaped drones, a couple of floating eyeballs, and a gynoid with electrified claws and a frickin' laser cannon. One of the raiders tried to cut through Liskar's shield with some type of industrial weapon (similar to Specter's own tool), but a shield bash stunned him long enough for her to shoot his brains out. Jessica meanwhile managed to cap a shotgunner.

Rangers was firing at the eyeballs. They were quick as a hiccup but as frail as glass. A few arrows were enough to rip them apart. The egg-shaped pawns were more of a nuisance than a threat. Sure the lasers stung, but they weren't all that different from standard Art blasts. The real problem was the lady-bot.

It was fast, nimble, and had a laser cannon installed in its skull. Just now a raider tried to cut the lizard-man down with a fire-ax as the robot fired its laser. Rangers managed to dodge the blast, but the marauder wasn't so lucky. He turned to dust as soon as it splashed against him. Rangers blinked and narrowly dodged a lunge from the gynoid.

The robot tried to grapple him with its electrified pincers, but he danced around each of its strikes. Unfortunately, his arrows bounced right off of its armor. Jessica and Liskarm wanted to shoot at the drone, but they were concerned about friendly fire. So the older woman went in with her fists. She wrapped her arms around the robot and unleashed her Arts.

The robot let out a digital screech as the Vouivre electrocuted every circuit in its chassis. When it stopped moving, she released the smoking husk onto the ground. Rangers wiped some sweat off of his brow.

"My thanks," he said.

Liskarm gave the elder a curt nod. Both of them examined the carnage around them. Just like Rainbow Team, they lacked the standard racial traits of the natives. And as with their firearms, the guns around them lacked originium in their frames and bullets. Curiously, one of them fired lasers and had something resembling batteries instead of an ammo cartridge. Ash's team had nothing like that.

And then there were the robots themselves. As far as anyone was aware, nobody's developed humanoid robots yet. Let alone lasers that disintegrate their victims. The eyeballs, though…

Everybody had the same idea, but Rangers was the first to voice it out. "These appear to be the same model as our quarry's friend," he noted. "Perhaps we should bring these back for study?"

Liskarm nodded in agreement. She was about to pick one of the units up when she spied something out of the corner of her eye. Something moving towards-.

Liskarm leaped in front of Jessica just in time to block a missile. The duo was rattled by the explosion, but they were still standing. Rangers managed to roll outta range of the splash damage. When the trio waved the smoke away, they were in for a nasty surprise.

Up ahead were Franka, Sesa, and… Nian? Why the hell was she here? Where were Projekt Red and Magallan? Cliffheart and Schwarz were nowhere to be seen either. Had they gone on ahead without them? But those questions were the least of their problems. That honor belonged to the towering automatron.

Sesa tried to outrun a missile barrage but was sent flying by an explosion. Franka managed to withstand a charge attack but was thrown by one of its massive arms. Nian was gritting her teeth as it hammered her shield with bullets. She was thrown back by a mortar soon after. The robot turned its gaze toward Liskarm's team.

"Alert," announced the Sentry Bot. " Non-combatants are advised to leave the area. Security sweep in progr-"

Franka got back onto her feet and sliced at one of its 'legs'. Her thermite blade shattered the wheel's armor, the fragments dripping with molten metal at their edges. Her smirk died out when it pointed its missile launcher at her. Before it could fire, an arrow bounced off of its armored head. It looked to see a slightly disappointed Savra standing atop some rubble.

"Hmm, not quite the outcome I was hoping for," Rangers noted.

"Crime detected. Threat analysis: red. Adding targets to threat matrix."

The robot turned its chaingun on Liskarm's team. The wyvern-lady got between the bullets and Rangers. Jessica took position atop a ruined house and fired away with her ill-gotten sniper rifle. That diverted the robot's attention long enough for her teammates to run for cover. Franka joined Liskarm and Rangers.

"About time you got here," she said in a teasing tone.

"Where's everyone else?" Liskarm asked.

"Red's on a rescue mission right now. Maggy and Castle got jumped by these assholes. Not sure about Schwarz and Cliffy. They're probably just taking their sweet time."

An explosion and a scream interrupted their reunion. The ladies looked to see poor Jessica tumbling down the rumble in a daze. The robot was rolling towards her, minigun still spinning. Franka hopped on the initiative, slashing at the back wheel. The robot's upper half made a sharp turn, trying to swat the Guard. She ducked under the machine's gun arm and landed another slash when she felt heat. Heat that wasn't emanating from her blade.

She caught a glimpse of orange lights and steam behind the robot. Or rather, emerging from it. It used the opportunity to slap her silly and knock her to the ground with a concussive blast from its mortar. Liskarm fired her pistol at it to draw its ire, her efforts rewarding her with… fewer bullets than she expected.

The robot seemingly shut down as panels began to open up on its back. There was even more steam now, hot enough to boil anyone's skin off. Behind it was a shitload of machinery and a couple of massive batteries. Gears in the Operators' brains began to turn.

Jessica gathered her bearings just in time to exploit this opening. She fired at one of the batteries with her sniper rifle, causing it to explode in a green shower of lights and particles. Her superior's Gieger counters were clicking now. An alarm burst from the robot's speakers.

"Status report: yellow," the Sentry Bot droned. "Primary systems have sustained significant damage. Requesting reinforcements."

As soon as those words left its vocoder, two robots emerged from the bandit hideout. One of them had a thruster in place of legs, dual-wielding Tesla rifles. The other appeared to be a variant of the gynoid, armed with a dish-shaped device and a fiery blade. The former bot looked like it was plucked from an industrial power plant. The latter appeared to have their original armor replaced with spikes and salvage, plus a skull over their faceplate.

The robots split. The Quantum Swarmbot went after Liskarm while Rangers and Franka kept the Sentry Bot's attention on them. Jessica found herself in the Assaultron Hag's crosshairs.

Caustic green rings and streaks of electricity soared through the air. Nian recovered and jumped between Jessica and the rings, blocking them to the best of her abilities. The Feline's Geiger counter was clicking like crazy as the bombardment continued. The shard of divinity seemed to be losing strength with each explosion. Jessica by comparison wasn't as severely affected thanks to her Iron Block suit.

Nian wanted to slap herself silly for being so headstrong. On the cusp of vertigo, Nian activated one of her personal Arts; Cooper Seal. A certain percentage of radiation and concussive force connecting with her shield was reflected back at their assailant. While the kinetic repulsion seemed to stagger the robot some, the rads had no effect. Jessica's Geiger counter was practically screeching now. Nian really wanted to rip it off of the Feline's belt and crush it.

She was too weak to follow through with this urge now. She fell onto her knee with a nauseous groan. The floating robot seemed to notice this and broke off from Liskarm. With a battle cry in binary, it threw arcs of lightning at the dragon lady. While her Arts did reflect some bolts, it hardly seemed to faze the machine. If anything, it was reabsorbing the tamed lightning through its voltaic frame. To make matters worse, the jolts bounced between her and Jessica. Their hair was starting to rise from all the static.

The Feline managed to shoot off one of the Swarmbot's arms, disabling its lightning gun. When she reached into the pouch holding the .308 clips, her fingers grasped… nothing. She panicked and shifted it around some more. Nothing but air. She used up all of her rifle's bullets. But she still had a smoke grenade and her pistol.

The Hag was closing in on them now. She broke off from Nian and tossed a smoke grenade at the divine shard. Just before it detonated, she had an 'oh crap' look on her face. A smokescreen clouded her vision and her ears were ringing like church bells now. She clasped her hands onto her ears and winced in pain.

"Seriously!?" she shouted, followed up by some coughing. "What- *couch* -the hell was that for!?"

Another burst of gamma flew towards her… and missed. More volleys of energy soared over her head. Not once did she feel the invisible poison or the kinetic burst. Jolts of lightning fared no better. Nian blinked.

"Error," the Assualtron said. "Targeting parameters not aligning."

Nian smirked. Stupid tincans. She thought to herself.

Jessica let her pistol do all the talking. The bullets collided with the Hag, drawing its attention. It threw blasts of gamma rads in her direction, but she tanked through the barrage. It quickly dawned on the robot that she wasn't gonna buckle like the shieldbearer. So it decided to engage in a little swordplay.

The Assaultron danced around her bullets, ducking and weaving through gunfire. All while it charged up its laser. Before it could get close to Jessica, Franka jumped into their battle. She caught the machine off-guard, slicing off its gamma gun. She managed to get a couple of additional swings in before the machine shook its bewilderment. It was a better swordsman (swordbot?) than she initially believed. It managed to parry and sidestep several more of her attacks.

Then the robot played its trump card. It fired a blazing hot laser toward the Vulpo, missing her ear by an inch. The robot tried to lock onto her skull, but she managed to grab the drone by its. To its astonishment, she managed to redirect the blast, swerving it toward the Sentry Bot…

And Liskarm. It was pounding away at her shield when the beam collided with her. Though her Charged Defense protected her from disintegration, the beam left some visible burn marks on her outfit. And it incapacitated her long enough for the Sentry Bot to tackle and pin her down. She struggled to hold off the suppressive fire while it had its wheel on her legs. The Assualtron emitted a cruel chuckle from its voice box.

"Thanks for the assist kill," it quipped.

Franka performed an uppercut under the robot's chin. That shattered the skull and crippled the unit's actual cranium, shorting out the laser cannon. The machine couldn't fathom what just transpired. One punch from this bitch was able to scrap its cannon?!

And two good hands grabbed its shoulder and ripped its remaining arm out. The Assualtron retaliated with a kick and leaped back. An audible growl (or rather an audio file of some wasteland creature's) was being played from its speakers. And it was glowing red now. Just like…

Franka made a run for it as the Hag charged at her. It self-destructed behind her, throwing her into the crosshairs of the Quantum robot. It paralyzed her with its jolts, leaving her at the mercy of a concussion grenade courtesy of the Sentry Bot. Or it would've, had Nian not snuck up behind the floating drone and sliced it in half with her greatsword. She kicked the grenade away before it detonated.

Liskarm broke free from her robotic captor and fired at its rear leg. Franka hopped in and heated her thermite blade, cutting right through its armor and inner mechanisms. She and Liskarm pulled back to avoid being bonked by the Sentry Bot's massive arms again. It tried to roll towards them, but its rear wheel was ruined.

Franka pulled down an eyelid and blew a raspberry. To her shock, it started hobbling towards them. It was using its front legs like 'real' ones to drag itself along the earth. And it was still armed to the teeth. Liskarm kicked in her Arts to repel as much of its firepower as she could. Then its systems started overheating again.

When the Sentry Bot powered down, Franka and Liskarm ran to the back. Just like before, panels had opened up to vent out heat. And once again its mechanical guts were exposed. Liskarm didn't hesitate to channel her electrokinetic Arts into the opening. The robot let out a series of garbled speeches before the bolts reached its remaining Fusion Core.

The Sentry Bot erupted in a massive explosion, throwing Franka to the ground. First came the standard warm colors, followed by an unusual mixture of Originium crimson and atomic lime-green. Their Geiger counters were chirping like rabid beasts as the radiation descended onto the earth and inert chassis. Franka whipped sweat off of her forehead as Liskarm helped her back onto her feet.

"Sorry," Franka apologized. "Forgot to mention that they're nuclear-powered. Learned that the hard way with a kamikaze bot."

She ended up leaning against Liskarm's shoulder. She looked at her fellow operators to assess the damage. Everybody was alive, but some had it rougher than others. Sesa was walking with a noticeable limp, while Nian seemed to be on the verge of vomiting. Jessica took her mask off, revealing a modest stream of blood oozing from her forehead. They needed a place to rest and lick their wounds. And Franka knew just the place.

The bandits' hideout was as quiet as a graveyard now. As far as the squad knew, they were alone in Staubstadt now. The only other parties that remained were the dead and the deactivated robots. Liskarm drew her pistol up as someone re-emerged from the bunker entrance soon afterward. It was just Projekt Red. Lisrkarm sheathed her smallarm when she recognized her fellow Operator.

For some reason, Franka had this concerned look on her face. "Red?" she asked "Are they-?"

"They're fine," Red replied. "Magallan's just rebuilding Castle-3. But that's the least of our problems."

Liskarm looked at Franka with a curious expression. Franka chuckled nervously.

"I uh… left Maggy by herself and those assholes kidnapped her," she explained to her partner. "But what do you mean by 'least of our-"

Liskarm's radio started ringing. She grabbed and brought the device to her ear.

"This is Liskarm, over," she reported.

A deep and formal voice came through. "This is Schwarz, reporting on behalf of Mudrock and Lady Ceylon. Over."

"On behalf? I thought you were at the radio tower? Over."

"We were. But then Cliffheart and I spotted some bandits departing Staubstadt. We followed them back to Müllstad and... ran into a raid."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"We joined Mudrock and some locals in repelling them. But we've taken some significant losses. To make matters worse, they appear to be wielding the same technology as our quarry. Over."

Franka cursed under her breath. She motioned for Liskarm to pass the radio and brought it to her mouth. "Did you leave any of those bastards alive? over." She asked.

"Yes. I'm already interrogating them right now. By the time you return, I should have some answers. What's your ETA? Over."

"Probably half an hour at the very least. Think you can hold the fort until then? Over."

"Uncertain. As said, we've taken some losses. There is a hidden garage near the radio tower, though. Large enough to hold a wide variety of vehicles. Probably some leftovers from the civil war. You can use those to return to base quickly. Over."

Franka smiled. "We'll be there shortly. Just hold tight and keep our unfriendly guests around for a little while longer. I wanna have a few words with them. Over."

"Acknowledged. Schwarz out."

The assassin hung up on them. Franka looked back at Red.

"Took everything out of your mouth, didn't she?"

Red nodded. She handed the bunker's map to her Squad Leader.

"Thanks, Red. Hmm, say Liskarm, do we really need to go down under if the entrance is at the tower?"

Her partner shrugged. "Depends on if Maggy and Castle are returning to the surface," she suggested.

Red shook her head.

Franka placed a hand on her chin. She was going to suggest staying topside, but after what happened with Magallan, she was hesitant.

"Jessica, you and Nian head meet with Maggy down in the bunker. The rest of us are staying topside. We'll rendezvous at the garage."

Jessica gave her superior a curt nod before departing. Nian on the other hand was grinning.

"An underground base," she mumbled to herself. "Sounds like something from a spy flick."

Nian ran off after the Feline. The rest of the team followed Franka through the ruins. Things have been relatively uneventful until they came across Sesa and Red's previous finds. The Blacksteel representatives were rather surprised when their Gieger counters reacted to the chunks of strange originium. Liskarm knelt down and took a pebble as a sample.

"Radioactive originium?" Franka said. "Okay, this is getting weirder and weirder by the minute."

"That's not even the weirdest part," Sesa. "Apparently this is where our quarry first popped up at."

Franka blinked. "Hold up, this was where he entered our dimension?"

"Well, several meters above us if you were to ask our little nose here. And apparently, he wasn't the only thing to make the giant leap."

Franka bit her lip as she glanced back at the warped ore. Did this stuff pull him through dimensions or something? She wanted to say that it sounded like some sci-fi crap but... well...

Someone tapped her on her shoulder. She looked to see Rangers beside her. He was pointing at a certain Lupo as she sniffed the ground.

"What is it, girl?" Franka asked in a teasing voice. "Another visitor?"

Red bolted back up. "Not a visitor," she said. "Hunter."

"Excuse me?"

"Not a man or machine. Something else. It reeks of death."

"Death as in 'rotting zombie' or…?"

Red shook her head. "Not decay. Blood. Fresh."

Franka liked this less and less. "Any idea where it ran off?"

Red gave a quick sniff. "East," she said.

That rang all sorts of alarms in Franka's head. She broke off into a sprint for the edge of town. The rest of her team chased after her with concerned looks on their faces.

---

Meanwhile at Müllstad…

The trail led to a human settlement. At first glance, it looked like any other it and its pack had explored. Sure it was populated, but that was always a given. Humanity had always existed alongside Deathclaws and the rest of the natural world. What made it stand out from other ruins were the locals themselves. Some of them had horns and tails, others ears resembling brahmin.

And there was something else here. Blood. Fresh blood. Blood soaked into the earth. Blood drying up on the buildings. Its nose also picked up the tell-tale signs of conflict too. Gunpowder, smoke, fire, chemicals, iron, the stench of death. There was another battle here. And it looked like the anomalies won.

The remaining normies were dragged into some rotting old building. It thought about hopping over there first, but there was a guard inside. Something about it felt off to the predator. The way she moved with that chunk of black iron spoke of experience, confidence. Like many things in their strange land, it was new. Alien. Best to observe it from a distance for the time being. And besides, the trail went further east.

It clung to the outskirts of the settlement, dashing between boulders and other rock formations. As it moved, it picked up the smell of fresh flora. 'Vegetables', right? They were growing food for their cubs here. Fresh food. These beings were intelligent enough to cultivate their food. If they had the brainpower to do that, then they were just as likely to have guards defending it.

Or… maybe not. They just had a battle with the normies. They were wounded, weakened. How many warriors did they truly have? The trail continued into the farmstead. The Deathclaw, though, wasn't too keen on taking the front entrance. Could be rigged with boobytraps. It circled around the building looking for an alternate point of entry.

It found one in the form of a window. And as it so happened, the entity that left their trail. One of them seemed to have been burnt by the crimson lights. Another had the faint smell of lead. One's skin was misshapen, like molten metal. The weakest of the pack carried the scent of the poisoned glow.

The Deathclaw was salivating now. These were all easy pickings. Hardly sporting, but at least they'll fill its belly. It did notice something odd about some of them, though. They had this obsidian rock growing on their skin. Was it toxic to its kind? Was it tasty, let alone edible?

Well, nothing ventured, nothing.

---

Farming was usually hard work. Long hours, battling the environment, warding off pests and predators, tending to the livestock. It was difficult some days, but overall rather routine. One might say even dull at times.

Things have gotten interesting lately. First was the Sarkaz gang that marched into town a few days ago. Then there was the recent raid on the village. And now the Hofer farmstead was being used as a makeshift medical bay and shelter for the villagers. They've even had to move the livestock out of the barn to make room for the wounded. Needless to say, things were hectic.

Ceylon whipped the sweat off of her brow as she sat a box of bandages down. She looked around the common room as she took a seat. All of the furniture was either pushed to the side or cradling some injured soul or another. Medical supplies and patients were scattered all over the place. Brändle was guarding some of the patients in the farmhouse's living room. Poor Elosie was swamped amidst the confusion.

Thankfully they weren't alone. They had Brändle and the Hofers- Ajax and Xenia- to ease some of the burdens off of their shoulders. They were rather surprised to find Minos in a Sarkaz village, even more so by Brändle's medical skills. When asked about his education, the Caprinae merely said one word; Wolumonde. Ceylon decided not to probe any further after that.

Ceylon cast a glance at Albert. While they have been able to deduce what was ailing Elosie's son, they haven't the slightest idea as to how he contracted his sickness. As far as Ceylon knew, nobody in the history of Terra has ever weaponized-let alone harness- gamma radiation. While nuclear fission and fusion weren't a secret, they were a very niche market. Most of civilization uses it for medical purposes, not warfare. There has been some talk about using such minerals as an energy source, but few saw the potential in that idea. Those that did were fighting an uphill battle against the Originium industry.

Albert's cognition has been steadily growing after receiving his pills. For the past few minutes, he's been staring at the window beside him. The sun was beginning to dip into the background as warm colors washed ashore in the sky. It seemed to be splitting into streams of orange and purple from where she was looking.

But something seemed off about the young Sarkaz. He was trying to lift his finger, trying to point at something. He was also mumbling under his breath. Ceylon moved closer to the patient to get a closer look at him. He seemed much more alert now, eyes wide open. There was also something swirling behind them—an emotion.

Fear.

Ceylon finally caught what he was saying under his breath; 'Untier'. She tilted her head. What did that m-

Then she heard something. Snarling, growling, scraping, stomping, slobbering. Some of the other patients and villagers craned their heads around as the noise grew louder. It was then that Ceylon looked out the window. And she froze up.

The gates of hell were waiting just outside, and they burst right open. A hulking monster tore through the wall beside Albert and Marius. The Liberi was only half awake when the creature busted in, but a bite into his shoulder rectified that. He screamed in horror and agony as the beast tore his arm off. Everybody that could run ran like Vampires out of hell. Eloise grabbed Albert's stretcher and rolled him out of the building as fast as she could.

The monster made a sweep with its claws at Marius, but a swordsman parried the blow. Someone else grabbed and carried the young Liberi while a swordmen keep the beast occupied. The monster grabbed and hoisted the warrior up to its face, sniffing him. Both of the Hofers grabbed pitchforks and came to the grunt's defense. It swatted them to the side and chomped down on the guard's skull. it crushed the whole thing like a grape, then processed to devour the rest of his body. An archer fired arrows at the monster, but they all seemed to bounce off of its scaly skin.

A hand grabbed Ceylon by the shoulder and shook her. She spun around to see Cliffheart, just as horrified as she was. More swordsmen were charging at it, only to get obliterated. Just as it was about to finish off the last one, though, an explosion rocked the living room. The beast snarled as it turned to face a certain Perro wielding a grenade launcher.

"Go!" shouted Olegario. "I'll hold it off."

Both Operators nodded and sped off. They could hear the monster roar at the Sniper before it stormed toward him. Their ears picked up a few more blasts before they heard his scream. The monster stomped out of the farmstead, roaring at the top of its lungs before it gave chase. It managed to slash Ceylon across the back, but it didn't slow her down. Not while she had all that adrenaline in her system.

Anything that got between it and the ladies was thrown aside. Villagers, motorcycles, mailboxes, even a goddamned jeep. Nothing slowed it down as it hounded them all the way to the dropship. Mudrock was sitting there applying bandages to her wounds when the duo rushed by. She was about to ask what was the matter when she saw the monster behind them. She quickly drew her hammer and conjured up her shield before stepping between both parties.

The creature crashed into her barrier, stunning it long enough for her to dish out some swings of her own. She landed a few hits on its chest before it brought its arms down to deflect her blows. A headbutt threw her off-balance, allowing it to shatter her shields and slash at her abdomen. She snarled and stumbled back, clutching it. A quick glance revealed that it (thankfully) hadn't spilled her guts out. But while she was distracted, it grabbed her by the leg and threw her into the dropship.

The pilot inside screamed as the vessel was overturned. One of the wings snapped off and everything inside spilled onto the wall (floor?). Mudrock groaned as she rose onto her feet, not noticing the imprint she left on the ship's side. What she did notice was that her hammer was missing. She panicked, spinning her head around trying to find it. She spotted it some distance away in some rubble.

Unfortunately, the monster was between it and its wielder. And it was closing the distance fast. She considered making a break for her weapon, but her shields hadn't recharged yet. She opted to wait until they did rather than risk getting gutted by that abomination. By the time they did, however, the thing had hopped onto the ship's side. She waited for it to charge before rolling off of the downed vessel. Then she sprinted towards her hammer.

That turned out to be a critical error. The monster had the high ground and thus had no trouble pouncing on her. Before long it had broken through her shields again and grabbed her leg. It slammed her to the ground and wrapped its talons around her. She punched away at the creature's arm, trying to break something, anything. But its grip was ironclad.

The monster lowered its head to hers, sniffing and snarling at her. It hovered its other set of talons above her face, almost as if it were taunting her. It flicked its claw open and-

Someone leaped onto its back, grabbing one of the dorsal spines along its back to steady themselves. It roared as it felt something cut into its back. It recognized a blade anywhere and had the scars to prove it. But something felt off about it. It felt like the energy blasts those armored men would throw at its kind back home. Mudrock tilted her head to see Brändle, hollering with a toothy grin.

"Yeha!" he shouted. "Ride zhem like ze vind, cowboy!"

A burst of energy slammed into its shoulder, leaving a glowing purple mark on its skin. It snarled and shifted its gaze back toward the farm. Popping out from behind some fresh ruins was a hooded figure.

"That was for Olegario and Marius!" Melody shouted under the spellfire.

The abomination staggered under the bombardment and stabbing. Its grip loosened enough for Mudrock to slip out and make a mad dash for her hammer. The beast snarled in frustration and hopped on the other side of the airship for cover. It reached over its back and grabbed Brändle, slamming him to the ground. The Caprinae wheezed as all of his ribs splintered into a thousand pieces.

The monster swung its claw at the young man. He tried to block the blow with his sword, but the hand holding was sliced off. The Rebel let out a scream as his arm was severed, grabbing the bloodied stump with his remaining hand. The monster ripped his other one from the shoulder blade before it impaled him in the chest.

By the time Melody circled around to get a better shot, it was already too late. While his lungs were being flooded with his own blood, the beast ripped him in half. She let out a horrified gasp.

"BRANDLE!" she cried out.

Mudrock had just retrieved her weapon at that point. She heard the Whisperer scream and spun around in time to watch Brändle's remains fly to opposite ends of the village. She froze up as she recognized the pieces.

"No…" she said softly.

A battlecry sounded off in the distance. It was Erdmann, charging at the monster with his own hammer.

"You bastard!" Erdmann howled. "I'll tear out your very soul!"

The monster knocked him to the ground and stomped on his chest. While he had an Arts barrier like Mudrock, it was only good for blocking energy-based attacks. The horror had no trouble tearing through it and his armor, pinning him to the aircraft. Try as he might, he couldn't put up a decent defense against its talons. It wasn't long before his head rolled off into the distance.

A bolt whizzed past its head. It shifted its gaze toward the church and spotted Schwarz at its entrance.

"Nobody hurts Lady Ceylon and lives!" Schwarz declared.

She fired more at the beast, but it ducked and dodged under each one. It quickly closed the distance between it and its prey and tackled her. A rope wrapped around its arm before it could grab her. It turned its head to see Cliffheart.

"I'veeee got yoooou!" she shouted.

The monster just pulled its arm forward. Cliffheart went hurtling into the wall in front of it and slumped into a daze. Then it sniffed the air and found itself surrounded by normies. Normies tied up to chairs. Normies from the Wasteland.

The monster licked its lips. Finally, a real meal. All of the Wastelanders turned pale as it cast its gaze upon them. Some of them even pissed themselves when they recognized the creature.

"A Deathclaw?" whimpered a raider. "This fucking place has Deathclaws?!"

The creature turned to the raider in question. He clammed up as the beast slowly approached him, talons out. A bolt landed at its feet before it reached him. The Deathclaw looked up to see Schwarz glaring down at it with her crossbow. She was on a balcony above everyone.

The Deathclaw snarled as it found itself on the defense. It hopped around bolt fire until it found a stairway. It had her scent on it. The monster traced it back to the assassin but she was nowhere to be found. She must've fled further up.

It caught a whiff of her and followed it. It was now on the top floor of the church. It was dark and filled with all sorts of clutter. Props for plays, holiday decorations. And hanging from the center of the ceiling was an ancient bell.

Another smell caught its attention. It knelt down and its eyes picked up dark specks on the floor. Blood. Something was wounded recently. Something familiar. Its nose led it to some crates. They stood no chance against its talons.

A startled squick erupted from behind them. Rushing out of her ruined cover was Ceylon, still bearing a fresh clawmark on her back. A bolt struck it in the arm before it could even consider following the Liberi. It spun to see Schwarz running towards it, blade in hand. She let loose a volley of slashes, leaving all sorts of cuts on its skin.

The Deathclaw was on the defense again, head lowered and claws covering its underbelly. Every time it tried to return the favor with its trademark tools, the Feline dodged or sidestepped them. On many occasions, she fired a bolt from her crossbow, but those usually bounced off of its scaly armor.

The monster finally got lucky and grabbed the assassin by the leg. It slammed her to the floor and then threw her into the bell. It cracked and splintered into several pieces upon impact. One of them crashed on top of her, another into a raider's skull. Schwarz gasped for air as the wind was knocked out of her lungs. She tried to rise back up, but she was pinned under the bell's fragment. Her torso felt like hellfire and she coughed out some blood.

She twisted her head around to see her captives pissing themselves. The Deathclaw climbed down to the ground level and started eating the raider that got his skull cracked open. From there on out it butchered the rest. Milly was whimpering under her breath, pleading for her lover to rescue her. He never came.

Schwarz was looking around frantically for her weapon. Cliffheart was still out cold, and will probably be the monster's next victim once it's through with the raiders. She has no idea where Lady Ceylon was either. Hopefully, she ran off to someplace safe.

Schwarz finally caught a glint of light in the corner of her eye. There, right beside the stairway, was her crossbow. But she couldn't reach it. Not while she was pinned under some giant piece of copper.

Just as the Deathclaw moved towards the last raider, though, the ground began to quake. It stopped and started spinning its head around, sniffing the air. A hulking metal figure rammed into the creature, shouting at the top of its lungs. They swung a hammer coated in black energy and bashed away at the monster. Schwarz blinked. Was that… Mudrock?

It was her. And she was using Milly's Power Armor frame.

Mudrock shouted away at the Deathclaw in Sarkaz as she hammered it. Schwarz didn't know what she was saying, but she imagined it was rather foul. Someone pushed the literal weight off of her shoulders. She looked up to see Ceylon, offering her a hand. Schwarz accepted it and rose back onto her feet. Ceylon's Healing Arts washed over her body, numbing any pain she felt.

She pointed at Cliffheart's unconscious body. Schwarz nodded and ran off to the fallen Feline. Picking her up and slinging her over her shoulder, she followed Ceylon back up the steps. Lady Ceylon was kind enough to retrieve the crossbow along the way. Schwarz then sat Cliffheart down on an old carpet while Ceylon used her Healing Arts. After she was satisfied, she lowered some smelling salts near the explorer's nose.

Cliffheart awoke with a jolt, babbling like crazy. When she calmed down and examined her surroundings, she noticed the two women.

"Did we win?" she asked.

A rumble answered her question. The ladies looked over the balcony to see the Deathclaw throwing Mudrock over its shoulder and onto the floor. It hopped on top of her and began clawing away. Schwarz moved to the best angle she could find and installed a bayonet onto the crossbow's underside.

Its sides unfurled and expanded like wings. She steadied the weapon on the rotten railing of the balcony and held her breath. The Deathclaw had just torn through the frame's armor, exposing the user underneath. She was taking ragged breaths and sweating like crazy, blood dripping from her scalp. Just as the monster raised its claw, Schwarz fired at its eye.

It hit the mark. The monster screeched in agony as the organ was obliterated, stumbling back. It snapped its head towards Schwarz, roaring at the top of its lungs. It failed to notice the dark energy swirling around Mudrock's hammer, let alone that she had climbed out of the ruined Power Armor.

She struck one of the legs first. The beast buckled as the bones snapped, howling in pain. She broke an arm next, earning another screech. Schwarz fired another bolt at it, this time at its underbelly. The soft flesh exploded as the projectile ripped through. The beast fell onto the ground as its innards spilled out.

Mudrock was far from done. With the last of her strength, she hammered away at its skull. With one last warcry, she knocked the head clean off of its shoulders. The body twitched and spasmed before it finally expired.

Mudrock collapsed onto the floor. Her teammates rushed down the steps to help her back against a wall. She was covered in scratches, dirt, and blood. But she was still intact. She was still breathing.

She smiled weakly. "Sorry… it took me so long," she said. "That armor wasn't… exactly designed for Sarkaz."

Ceylon knelt down and began bandaging up the Defender. She tried her best to ignore the cesspool of blood and gore around her. She had no love for the Iron Devils after what they just did, but even she didn't believe that they deserved to be massacred like that. The only one still alive let his jaw drop to the floor as he stared at the Operators.

"Jesus," he breathed. "That's the first time I've ever seen anyone bludgeon a Deathclaw to… well, death."

Schwarz spun around to face the Raider with a death glare of her own. The bastard gulped.

"Deathclaw?" Schwarz asked.

"Uh, yeah. Apex predator of the Post-Apocalyptic Wasteland."

Ceylon looked up from her patient to tilt her head in confusion. "'Post-Apocalyptic'?" she noted.

"Not important," Schwarz said.

"What the she-panther said," the Iron Devil added.

Now it was Schwarz's turn to give him a confused look. "Panther?"

If the Raider weren't tied up to a chair and surrounded by his dead crewmates, he'd have facepalmed.

"My fucking god," he grumbled under his breath.

Everyone heard several jeeps pull up outside. Schwarz drew out her crossbow and peeked out the church entrance. She let out a sigh of relief as she recognized the figures hopping out.

Projekt Red was the first to approach the church, nose to the ground. She moved past the Feline and bolted back up when she saw the dead alien. Franka was the next one over, whistling at the sight.

"Damn," she swore. "Now I see why Red was so worried about y'all." She frowned as she examined the carnage. "Please tell that Scrawny over there's the leader."

Schwarz pointed at the mangled remains of Milly. Franka sighed.

"Shouldn't have asked. Any other casualties besides them?"

The assassin pointed outside. Already the rest of their squadmates were gathering the dead and preparing a pyre for them.

"Some local Infected were also killed," Schwarz noted. "If their bodies haven't dissipated yet, we need to remove them from the site ASAP."

Franka looked over at Ceylon and Mudrock. The latter had a mournful look on her face as the former patched her up. The Vulpo had three guesses as to what was souring her milk. She looked back at the fallen Dropship and cursed under her breath.

"Kal'tsit is gonna kill me," she said under her breath.

Some of the other Operators came to the church to assist with cleanup. Schwarz blinked as Nian entered the building and covered her mouth at the scene of the crime.

"Bleck," she gagged. "I think I'm gonna hurl."

"What the hell is she of all people doing here?" Schwarz asked, pointing at the divine shard.

Nian rolled her eyes. "Was on vacay until that douchebag's buddies ruined it," she retorted. "Figured that I'd be a good Samaritan and help y'all with their mess."

Schwarz looked back at Franka. "Does she know?" she whispered.

Franka nodded. "Already had an inkling before we arrived," she revealed.

Schwarz cursed. Great, more complications. She thought to herself.

Franka walked over to Mudrock. "How're ya feeling, gal?" she asked in a perky tone.

It wasn't as infectious as she hoped it was. "...not well," the Sarkaz confessed.

"Can you walk? Or at least use Arts?"

Mudrock nodded.

"We could use some help getting our ship upright again. Could you…?"

Mudrock's head rose up. She nodded again and grabbed her hammer. Ceylon followed her back to the craft, despite the warrior's protests. She knelt down and planted her hammer into the ground, concentrating. The earth around the airship began to shift and swirl as hands of stone and soil pressed themselves against the machine. When a heave, they pushed the craft back onto its feet.

Franka placed a reassuring hand on Mudrock's shoulder. "Thanks," she said softly. "Why don't you and Cliffheart get some rest inside while Ceylon stitches y'all up?"

"With all due respect, we might need to do a bit of cleaning before they can lie down," Ceylon pointed out.

Franka facepalmed. She whistled Jessica and Projekt Red over beside the dropship.

"Could ya two do some spring cleaning for these ladies?"

Both operators nodded as the ramp collapsed onto the ground with a heavy thud. Franka called Rangers and Schwarz over once all five ladies were inside.

"Liskarm and I are gonna be busy grilling Mr. Wasteland in the church," she told Rangers. "Can you two send out a private transmission to Amiya or Kal'tsit?"

Rangers nodded. "Of course," he said.

"What about me?" Schwarz asked.

Franka pointed at Schwarz's hair. "Go get some first aid," she ordered. "Unless you want Ceylon to drag your sweet ass inside."

Schwarz reached for her scalp. There was a warm fluid in her hair. She brought her hand back down and saw red stains on it. She sighed.

"Very well," she said.

Schwarz and Rangers walked over to the dropship while Franka and Liskarm entered the church. The younger Sniper plopped beside Cliffheart as her elder went into the cockpit. The pilot was still alive if a bit rattled by recent events.

"Excuse me," Rangers asked him. "But is the long-range communicator still operational?"

The young pilot nodded. "Y-yeah, it should be," he said.

"Good. I'm going to need some privacy for a few minutes. Why don't you help Ms. Doykos in the meantime?"

The man nodded again and exited the cockpit. Rangers booted up the ship's systems and dialed a number onto a touchscreen. A holographic projection of Amiya appeared in front of the glass.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Rangers," the Cautus said.

Rangers briefly bowed his head. "Good afternoon, milady," he said with a warm smile.

"Have you uncovered anything on Mr. Six?" Amiya asked.

Rangers put a couple of fingers to his chin. "Perhaps…" he reported. "More than we certainly anticipated."

Amiya tilted her cute little head. "Explain," she said.

Rangers sighed. "Let's just say that our quarry might've left the door open when he first arrived here," he began. "And we may need a handyman or two to patch up our ship."

---

Date: October 3rd, 1099

Location: Chernobog core city

Time: 3 PM

The trip to the safehouse hadn't been as long as the one to the Sarcophagus. No need for tiptoeing around when the area was clear. No mines to trigger or enemies to aggro. No mercs looking to collect your head or critters looking to chew on it. Just you, your company, and the silence of an abandoned city. Well, there was the magical shitstorm outside, but that hardly counts when you're underground.

The trio came upon a ladder. Lyudmila naturally was the first one up. She lifted the hatch just enough to inspect her surroundings. She looked back down at the Courier and motioned for him to climb. The dimensionally displaced duo complied and found themselves in a dusty old house.

Or rather, the basement of one. Lyudmila took out a flashlight and went over to a generator tucked away in a corner. After a brief inspection, she flipped the switch and the lights flickered to life. The trio was surrounded by several bunk beds, along with the occasional walls covered with posters, but Six couldn't read any of them. Most of them were worn out and those that were eligible were in Russian.

Ursine. A voice in his head corrected.

Not now, pinky. Six mentally retorted.

The group went upstairs to what appeared to be a kitchen. There were a couple of refrigerators, with several appliances on the counter. Six also noticed an oven and stove sitting against one of the walls. He knelt down beside and inspected each of them. Nothing worth salvaging from either machine. And something told him that any food in those fridges would've long since expired.

Lyudmila guided them through the living room and up the steps. Six blinked at the sight of a flatscreen TV on the way. It was smaller than the one Exusiai melted with his Plasma Defender, but the design was more or less the same. These people were able to compartmentalize their televisions?

The Perro- or was she a lupo?- opened a door and motioned for him to step inside. Before them was a workshop, like the one Aelius owned. The main difference was that this one was retrofitted from a child's bedroom if the baby's crib and dresser were any proof. There was a poster on the wall just above the main workbench.

It was a horned woman with snow-white hair and a black dress. There was a white blouse sticking out from a pitch-black coat. Tied around her left arm was an orange scarf, covered in ash. Her right hand carried a greatsword, but he wasn't familiar with the design. It wasn't like anything the Legion wielded back home.

In regards to fashion, she had an aristocratic appearance. Veronica would've fainted at the sight of her dress. But something felt off about her. The way she looked down at the viewer with those blood-red eyes sent chills down his spine. Then there's the orange splotches on the poser. Were those supposed to represent embers? What the hell was she? A she-devil?

"Quite a looker, ain't she?" Lyudmila said.

Six couldn't help but notice a hint of vitriol in her tone. "I guess," Six replied. "Who is that, though?"

"Talulah. The founder of this little union."

"[Intelligence 8] Talulah? Like 'Tuilelaith'?"

Lyudmila shrugged. "Hell if I know," she said. "But one thing's for certain; She lit one hell of a flame. Even after she lost the torch, others were able to pick it up."

Six looked around the workshop. There were crossbows, blades, even something resembling grenade launchers and mortars. Then his eyes fell upon a backpack. A metal backpack with exhaust powers on the sides. He picked it up and sat it on the work table.

"This what we came for?" he asked.

"One of the items," Lyudmila confirmed. "There should be a stash of grappling hooks nearby. Give me a minute."

Six nodded as the woman left the room. He glanced back at the device on the table. It somewhat resembled a model he purchased from Douglas's shop a couple of years ago. Apparently, the eastern coast developed them shortly before the War but never had the chance to distribute them before the bombs fell. ED-E's been carrying it around in subspace storage since then.

He grabbed a toolkit and opened the device up. He had been meaning to install his jetpack onto one of his suits of Power Armor, but he never found the time or drive to do so. Perhaps a quick review of aerodynamics will fix that.

The turbine was nothing special, mechanically speaking. It was just a miniaturized version of pre-war jet engines. Most air drawn in typically bypassed the inner machinery, while the rest went into the core. Glaives would then compress the air for it to be mixed with fuel in the combustion chamber. The mixture is then ignited and boom! You have liftoff. Well, the turbines have to turn to maintain it afterward, but hey.

But something seemed off about the design. For one, there was usually a hose to funnel the fuel into the combustion chamber. There wasn't one. For another, the actual source of power for the jetpack wasn't chemical in nature. It was another of those damn Originium batteries.

Six growled. Great, another tool gated off by fucking magic. He silently cursed.

[Arts 0/15] As if things weren't bad enough, the jump-pack seemingly developed a mind of its own. Without warning, it rocketed out through the window and into the city outside. Six cursed out loud and ran to the broken glass barrier. To his surprise, the Catastrophe had finally died out. No crimson clouds, no lightning bolts, no meteor showers. Not even ashes or dust raining down.

Lyudmila heard the commotion and ran back into the room with some wrist-mounted device on her arm.

"What happened?" she asked.

"The damn thing jumped out of my hands!" Six snapped.

"Did you try to dissect it while I was away?"

"Yes, why?"

"Because you need some level of Arts training to ignite the turbines, glupets. Seriously, how can you fire those guns and not know how to operate a jetpack?"

"Um…" Six turned away from the girl and back to the window.

Lyudmila put her hands on her hips as the Courier tried to ignore her. The jetpack left a visible trail, thankfully. Even better was that the incident had occurred in broad daylight. He just needed to follow the trail. He leaped out of the window and rolled onto the ground. His Pipboy noted that he lost some Health Points but that didn't concern him too much. His limbs weren't crippled and he was still alive. Lyudmila followed suit after him in a more graceful display. ED-E simply floated onto the earth.

The Courier tracked the device back to the Mayor's building. The architecture was neo-classical in design, reminding him of postcards of the DC area. Two Catastrophes had already bombarded the necropolis, yet it still stood proud among the rubble and ash. But it wasn't unscratched either.

There was evidence of a battle here. Craters, rubble, weapons. And bodies. Oh, so many bodies. Some of them had bear ears, others pointed ones and even horns. The latter group was a dead ringer for the locals he first fought in Kazdel. What were they called again? 'Sarkaz'?

So many have been stripped to the bone, many literally. Some of them were missing their attire and weapons. Probably the work of scavengers and raiders. Some might consider this defiling the dead. In Six's post-apocalyptic mind, it was just people doing whatever they could to survive.

Six noticed a mortar beside one and grabbed it. He tossed it to ED-E, who caught it with his tractor beam and added it to his inventory. He repeated the process with a crossbow, a small shield, and an axe. He had even come across bodies with jetpacks, but he ignored those. He was already in the middle of tracking one down. Then there were the larger bodies. They were rounder and heavier, their breastplates covered in pouches. They had shields the size of their torsos to boot.

[Strength 8/10] Six tried to pick one of them up, but it was too heavy for him. He grumbled for a moment before moving on. Lyudmila had this look on her face, though. Like she wanted to punch something or someone. He just ignored her. Finally, he found his jetpack at the feet of-

Six froze. This body wasn't laying on the ground like the others. It was standing upright at an angle, reaching down to grab… something. And even with that posture, it easily towered over every corpse in the area. It appeared to be the height of a Super Mutant, but it lacked the general hunchback of said beings.

The entity was heavily armored, maybe even power-armored judging by the fan in the chestplace. He could see exposed machinery in many parts of the user's suit. Gears, wires, hydraulics. Even tubes connecting to the back of its helmet. This definitely was Power Armor. And it has been in disrepair for some time.

As Six retrieved his jetpack and tossed it to ED-E, a torrent of thoughts swirled around in his skull. On the one hand, that Power Armor was more compact than any he had seen before. The engineer in him wanted to dissect it, tear it apart to see what advances this world had made in the field. But there was a foreboding atmosphere. The helmet didn't help with that deer-skull motif either.

Six turned around for input from Lyudmila. But she was just staring at the armor, frozen. The look in her eyes had changed into something mournful. Actually, scratch that, she seemed to be on the verge of shedding a tear. When she finally shook off her emotions, she walked over to the armor and gently laid a hand on its side.

"You seem awfully familiar with that armor," Six noted.

"With its wearer," she corrected him. "You remember that 'Aegis of the Infected' I mentioned back underground?"

"This guy was part of that group, I take it?"

She shook her head. "He was that Aegis. Merged his guerilla group with ours years ago."

Six did a double-take. "Th-this guy? What the hell was he?"

"Sarkaz. Wendigo, to be exact. Maybe even the last of his kind."

Six shuddered. "Wendigo? As in 'cannibalistic mutant'?"

He was caught off guard by a sharp slap across his helmet. Lyudmila was glaring at him now.

"He wasn't a monster, osel," she retorted. " And from what I recall, he found their rituals appalling."

As soon as his head stopped ringing, Six shook his head. He noticed two objects beside the armored titan. The first was a broken spear, its tip embedded into the earth not far from them. The other point of interest-a battered shield- was further back. Six was more interested in the blade and stashed it in his inventory. He could probably make a decent sword or dagger out of it if he had the right materials.

His gaze shifted back to the armor. "And what was his name?" Six asked.

Lyudmila shrugged. "Can't remember his real one," she confessed. "It was long and hard as hell to pronounce. Most people just called him 'Patriot'."

"Patriot? There a particular reason he stuck with such a title?"

"Let's just say that he is- …was an idealist."

Six looked back at the titan. This guy had ideals? He looked like an automaton from where he was standing. Then again, even weapons can develop minds of their own. Perhaps this one longed for a life without war. He couldn't be the first soldier to dream of such things.

The Courier took a closer look at the armor. There was a mesh underneath the plating and framework, some type of cushion perhaps? Certainly didn't resemble the jumpsuits used by the Brotherhood. Six circled around the back to find it covered by a cape. It was all worn and torn, but it still clung onto the body for dear life. Six gently brushed it aside to get a better look underneath.

There wasn't a valve handle like his world's Armor. How did he manage to get into his, let alone attach the plating? Just friction and prayer, or some type of locking mechanism? How heavy and durable were the plates anyway? Did he attach the armor onto the frame himself, or did he have to rely on a squire? A workbench maybe?

It took some fiddling, but Six found a gap under a leg's armor plating. Before he could feel for any sort of release switch, though, something flew at his feet. He shifted his footing just in time to avoid a flying knife. He traced its trajectory back to his guide. There was a fiery look in her eyes.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" she snarled.

"Uh, salvaging his Power Armor. Duh!"

"You mean defiling him."

"He's dead, Mila. He's not going to be needing-"

Mila pounced on the Courier before he could finish speaking. She had his blade at his neck guard, scraping against it.

"That man was a goddamn hero!" Lyudmila howled. "He gave the Infected hope. A reason to live! And your first instinct is to indulge in graverobbing? In cannibalism?"

Six's eyes twitched at the word 'cannibalism'. he was many things, but 'cannibal'? Some savage like Mortimer? Anger bubbled under his skull as he clawed at the earth, balling his fists up. He really wanted to clock the damn bitch for calling him that word. But he couldn't. Not while he still needed her.

"Rules of the Wasteland," he retorted. "If they're dead, anything they've got is up for grabs. And honestly, that's the most advanced piece of Power Armor I've ever seen. Leaving it to rust out here would be a fucking crime!"

"You're already committing a crime by looting his body."

"Yeah? And whose law am I breaking? Who has jurisdiction over this carcass of a city? From what I've seen, the Ursus have effectively abandoned it. And now that I think about it, why is his body still here? You said you joined up with the Aegis of the Infected, right? Then why hasn't he or his comrades received a proper burial, or at least a pyre?"

"Your point?"

"Seems like you and your buddies abandoned everyone here. Abandoned him."

Her hand was shaking now. "Why I- I'd never-! How dare you! How dare you!"

Lyudmila lifted her dagger into the air and held it over his head. But she had no strength to bring it crashing down into his visor. She just let her arm drop to the side. She sighed and rose off of the Courier. She refused to sheathe her weapon, though.

"But why would you want to study that particular suit of armor?" she asked. "That model's outdated, last I checked. You'd be better off looking in places like Columbia."

Six looked back at the 'monument'. "But it might be compatible with the armor from my homeland," he said. "I was able to upgrade this riot gear with the Ursus hazmat suit, wasn't I?"

Lyudmila narrowed her eyes for a bit. "Alright, fine," she said. "Play with your big-boy toys in the middle of an Oripathic hazard zone. It's not as if we're burning sunlight while your quarry runs off."

Six glared back at Lyudmila. As much as he hated to admit it, she was right. Chasing after the satellite's thieves was more important than indulging in his curiosity. With a huff, he followed her to an underground garage. He marked the armor's location on his Pip-Boy before hopping into his seat, though. If he ever found the time and resources to do so, he wanted to make a return trip here. Outdated or not, that was a unique set of Power Armor. And like any adventurer, he wanted to add it to his collection. He wasn't gonna forget it anytime soon.

The two of them eventually found another Boar and started it up. Six naturally took the passenger seat while ED-E tethered himself to the backseats. With a soft rumble, they drove out of the garage and into the wasteland. Six looked back at the decrepit heart of Chernobog as it disappeared into the horizon. A thousand questions were swirling around underneath his helmet. Some of them about the day hell's gates opened in the settlement. Some of them were about his guide and her connection to that hulking mutant.

He still didn't trust her all that much, but he didn't have much choice. She was the only person not interested in stealing his world's technology (thus far), and she certainly had no desire to follow him into Great Lungmen. Still, there were a lot of holes in her story. How did she even know where to find the Sarcophagus? What- or who- was this "Aegis of the Infected"? Why was their body (or bodies) here in the heart of one of the biggest disasters of this world's history? What did that mercenary mean when they called her 'Crownslayer'?

Then there was the city itself. Only one of its platforms decoupled from the main body. Why? Was the mayor abandoning his own people, leaving them at the mercy of nature's wrath? What the fucking hell happened at that school? Was it the only one to descend into a bloodbath or did all of them suffer a similar fate? Who the fuck would force such scenarios on fucking kids!?

And there was the issue of his own secrets. He had already flashed his exotic musketry in front of her during their time together more times than he could count. Not just his guns, but also energy weapons and even Power Armor. She wasn't oblivious to the mechanisms of her world's firearms and no doubt has a shitload of questions about his by now. He could lie and say something about not specializing in the same field as some Casters. But would she really buy it, especially since she has some understanding of Arts herself?

And then there's his real mission: Find out who the hell started this chain of events. First, he needed to get off of his ass and actually translate a certain portion of that holotape. He'll do it while she sleeps. Less chance of her listening in on the recording. Speaking of his quarry…

"How long before we get to Great Lungmen?" Six asked.

Lyudmila tapped the dashboard and a chart popped up on the screen. She took a quick glance at it before returning her attention to the desert.

"According to this, probably about three-to-seven days," she calculated.

"You're shitting me."

"Wish I was. Nomadic cities rarely stop for anything these days. The only time they do is to either mine for resources or split apart and scatter around incoming Catastrophes."

Six grumbled under his breath. "Fucking magic shitstorms."

"Look on the bright side, at least we can track its signal."

Six leaned against the door and gazed out into the wasteland.

It'll be a miracle if New Vegas survives without me for this long. He bitterly thought to himself. Hopefully, it'll still be standing when I find my way home.

---

A/N:

Whew! Finally, we've got that arc out of the way. Some things came up in life during production for this chapter. A couple of relatives got hospitalized and I had to tend to them. Don't worry, it wasn't because of a certain plague. The family dog had seen better days, though, and I took him to two different vets. Add that to all the stuff I wanted to cram in and… well… This is honestly the longest chapter I've ever written at the time. Hope y'all don't mind the word count.

But enough about that, let's dive into the juicy bits.

First of all, the raid. I've been wanting to put someone in Power Armor against one of our esteemed Operators. Mudrock was originally gonna conjure up a Golem or two against Milly and/or the Deathclaw, but then I remembered how it'd affect her health. And something told me that Ceylon wasn't going to let that slide, no matter the situation.

And then we have the Deathclaw. Originally it was gonna be two of those bastards. One for Staubstadt, one for Müllstad. The one for the former site was removed for a couple of reasons. For one, it would've made this chapter even longer and probably more chaotic and confusing. For another, Deathclaw behavior hasn't always been consistent in the Fallout games. New Vegas makes them out as pack animals, while the Eastern Coast games present them as more solitary. Different environments calling for different pressures and rules, perhaps? Oh, and I figured that Franka and her team would've whipped the floor with their Arts and some ill-gotten firearms. Wouldn't have made a compelling narrative at the time.

And poor Mudrock. First she had to watch her buddies fall one by one on the journey to Kazdel. Now she has to watch more of them die to terrors from another world entirely. And while we're talking about her, let's discuss her change of attire during the Deathclaw's rampage. Ever since I saw her initial artwork, I have been praying for Arknights to present us with some type of Powered Armor. Something like Fallout's own suits or at least something akin to Halo's MJOLNIR. I was slightly disappointed when I found out that it was just a hazmat suit with an exoskeleton on the outside. So I indulged myself with some wish fulfillment here.

And then there's Six and Crownslayer. Yes, I threw in Patriot and his Guerilla unit to spike up some drama between the two of them. As a Playable Character, it's practically in Six's nature to loot from the dead. And we have a pseudo-explanation as to how the hell ED-E is carrying so much shit around. Is it a handwave of science? Yes, but so is a lot of stuff in Fallout. I thought of referring to it as 'Mass Shifting' a-la Transformers. Another reference instead cut. See if you can find it.

Next chapter is gonna be the start of a smaller arc. Just Six and Lyudmila on the road while Rhodes Island does some research and cleanup. Maybe Franka's group takes a look at Ascheufer while they wait for help. There're probably some glowing husks still prowling about. And then there's still the radio silence on the Doktah's end.

As for our Courier… it'll be more about maintaining his trust with Lyudmila. And how he'll react to the rest of the world and vice versa. There's a wandering medic (or two. Maybe three?) that I've been wanting him to meet for some time now. He could use a lesson in Xenobiology. Maybe some on Oripathy to hammer home what he's gotten himself into. And depending on who those wandering souls are, he may find butt heads with a certain knight or two.

Tune in next time for Let Nothing Fall to Chance, Chapter 12; Roadside Outings!