"Blood, Sweat and Tears"

[AliasTheory]

Sometimes I think I could have included more detail, but I don't have time to write a book. :P

 

Thanks for the comments. Next week I'll be quite busy, so I'll just post what I gotta post and get out. After the next one, the chapter following it won't be until more than a week, probably.

[AliasTheory]

<----- BACKWARD

 

============================

Chapter 17: To Take Down a Sky

============================

 

I make my way up the stairs to see Butch reclined against adjacent stairway wall. I draw my assault rifle and flip the safety switch off.

 

“You two lovebirds done?” he asks.

 

“Look who is trying to be funny now.”

 

We follow the corridor and turn left, revealing yet another hallway with a Vault-Tec logo painted on the end, the logo a ripple of circles. There must be at least 5 other hallways branching out from this one, but thankfully we don’t have to go too far. I point to the first corridor on the right. “Just got to get in, and get out,” I urge him.

 

Butch snickers. “That’s what she said.”

 

“Is it? Quit screwing around. And ‘shush.'”

 

The doors down corridor one are situated in an alternating sequence: right, left then right again. Similar to the first floor, a window exists on the far wall, though much squarer and smaller in size. More cracked light fixtures dangle from the ceiling and fissures drizzle down the walls. But it isn’t before we past the first room when I have to stop again. My strange sensation of the past intensifies as we walk by. It’s irrepressible.

 

“You know…I think I’m going to check out this room for a bit.” I tap the rusty metal knob, the door itself a dark, navy blue with a sealed windowpane.

 

“This ain’t the room, smarty,” Butch says wearily.

 

“I’m not stupid,” I lash back. “But I’ve got this feeling…it’s gonna stop.”

 

“And ‘it’ is..?”

 

“The feeling!” I exclaim, not wanting to clarify myself. “The whole, ‘I think I’ve been here before?’ Ring a bell? The one I was complaining about when we first came here.” I want to stick with the plan I had made. “Could you grab the exchanger yourself?”

 

Butch scratches his head with his right hand, and for once, removes his shades. He rubs his eyes. “Well, we could just stop here and check this scene out. No rush.”

 

I suddenly feel like I’m a burden, just wasting time. Nobody should be stopping for me and my personal interests. The Enclave won’t wait, and neither should we.

 

“Nah. It’ll be really quick; just run down, grab it, and come back.”

 

Something must have been oddly charismatic about my tone, all logic and safety abandoned. “Well…I GUESS I could,” he gives in. There’s some doubt in his voice, but he still trusts me. Years of survival have told him that. But I’m not haunted by any sort of regret; I instead feel deliciously satisfied.

 

“Thanks.” I slowly open the door, but the room is small and empty. “Don’t know why it is just me, but I think this is the source.” I glance back at his tan-lined ellipses around his eyes, and wink. “Give me a holler if something goes wrong. Yell or scream or something.”

 

A smirk is quick to smear above his doubtfulness. “If anything, it won’t be me screaming.”

 

“Don’t get cocky, wise-guy. Check the other rooms, and watch your step. Just in case.” The smirk vanishes.

 

“Roger.” His gaze wanders aimlessly, perhaps in hesitance, and then turns to the end of the hall. “Well, have fun Drew.”

 

I step inside the room, things dark but still visible. In the middle is a square metallic table, several tiny mechanical parts lying about under a bulb-less central lamp. The sides of the room are filled with shelves of science instruments. On the distant end is an elongated table, a mess of test tubes and curvy glasses with dull grey chemical compounds residing in them. But to more of my interest is the blank-screened terminal mounted also on the far wall, the keyboard unlatched and inviting.

 

Generic as it may all seem, everything feels familiar.

 

I am careful to walk around the room, broken glass crunching under my boots as I move towards the suspended terminal. Without a doubt there is some useful information on there that I am looking for. I don’t have nearly as much experience with them as Saori does, but I can manage even if I’m a little slow. Striking the terminal keyboard lightens the monochrome screen and brings up the following:

 

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

                MM M                            MMM    
                   MM MM                     MMM  M     
                    M M  M                 MM M M       
                     MM  MMM    MMMMM    MMMM  M        
                     MM  MMM      MMM    M MMM MM       
                      MM  MM     MM MM   MMMMMMM        
                      M   MM   MMMM MMM  MMMM M         
                         M MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM M M MM M M  
                  M M  M M MM MMMMMMMMM M  M M          
                  MM M    MMMM  MM  MM M MM   MMMM     
                    MMM      MMM  MM  MM MM    M  MMM    
                        M M M     MM  MM          M       
                  MMMM M M  MM  MM  MM MM               
                   MMMMMM  MMMM  M M MMMMM  MM          
                    M  M M     M   M M       M          
                             MMM   M MM      M          
                          M   MM MMMMMM     M           
                                 M M M

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<( ( o ) )>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
                      WELCOME TO VAULT-TEC HQ
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<( ( o ) )>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

MANUFACTURER FUNDS BY WEST TEK | ASSEMBLED AT ROBCO INDUSTRIES
APPROVED BY THE PRESIDENT OF THE AMERICAN COMMONWEALTH

AUPRET PROJECT
COMMISSIONED: 13/6/2072
EXPERIMENTERS: KIM , AERIS & TANS , RUNAB
SUPERVISOR: TORRES , ADELE

THIS COMPUTER HAS BEEN LEFT UNLOCKED ON THE REQUEST OF THE PROJECT SUPERVISOR.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
CLICK FUNCTION ‘A’ TO CONTINUE 
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

 

The initial strange cluster of symbols is just as foreign to me as the project itself. I notice the slick black tracking ball on the right side of the keys, along with two orange buttons labeled “A” and “B” respectively. I fit the palm of my hand on the surprisingly shiny spherical surface and hit “A.” The screen quickly wipes itself clean, presenting several categories.

 

My options: [OVERVIEW] – [DATA REPORTS] – [AUPRET VAULT INFO]

 

For once, I’m feeling anxious. I don’t know why.

 

http://fallout3nexus.com/imageshare/images/2144141-1291608475.png

 

My instincts tell me that I must know what this thing is. I guide the cursor over to the overview tab and select it.

 

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

////////////////////////////////////////////

VAULT-TEC HQ
COMMISSION DATE: 13/6/2072 (JUN. 15)
LAST UPDATED: 24/1/2075 (JAN. 24)
DATE OF ACCESS: 23/6/2277
EXPERIMENTERS: KIM , AERIS & TANS , RUNAB 
SUPERVISOR: TORRES , ADELE 

////////////////////////////////////////////
The Aupret so far seems to be a complete and working success. It has been successful in several instances 
of manipulating and controlling several subjects to a desired state, and of most importance, human subjects. 
(These instances include but are not limited to the many ones performed during the early winter of 2074, which
were done under rigorous attention to control variables.) Although positive results have been noted across many 
organisms that may compensate the size, in bipedal ones and vertebrates does it seem to work more effectively 
and reliably, namely in primates. The ongoing hypothesis is that it is so due to similar deoxyribonucleic structures.
First observations of unusual effectiveness were on a chimp dubbed “Koko” on Aeris’s behalf. 

An Aupret must be physically attached to a cerebrum – specifically between the frontal and temporal lobes – to receive
and intercept certain incoming electrical impulses from neurons. This is done by isolating and redistributing the lipid
bilayer from the filtered neurons to prevent (rapid) or in some cases enhance instances of synaptic transmission.
Bear in mind the Auprets are designed with different intents and objectives based on targeted protein structures, which
in turn identify appropriate neurons. The surgical process is a daunting and risky one only to be done by a highly trained 
specialist. In the course of this experiment, we have lost several subjects to cerebral hemorrhages and spread contamination
due to a lack of instrumental sanitation. Unfortunately, once the Aupret has been spliced in, it cannot be removed by
any means without termination.

Results of the Aupret have been notably increased logic capabilities and emotional range capacities, but also enhanced
biological senses (namely visual and auditory receptors, and physical feeling,) and even linguistic capabilities. Subjects have
demonstrated abilities far beyond a normal human capacity; one human subject was able to identify and fluently use over 100
spoken and non-spoken languages in a yearlong learning period. It is of hope that in the future this experiment can assume the
role of a social experimental “Vault,” with additional funding. 

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

 

I plow through the information, unable to comprehend all of it. A seemingly miraculous device, but my mind comes to an immediate halt as I try to comprehend the conclusion. I blink a few times, eyes a bit dry. I find myself thinking aloud. “Social experimental Vault…? Then one-oh-one is…!” I subconsciously form a shaky fist, feeling even more cheated and deceived. It’s an unbearable rage, my breathing erratic and deep. This world is nothing but lies, lies, lies! Lied to about the Wasteland’s existence; lied to about the Enclave by none other than themselves; lied to by the Brotherhood, who was supposed to care! And this familiar feeling…I bet this is a lie, too. We’re all just damn lab rats, once stuck inside a big container.

 

I think I can’t even start to conceive of this “social experiment.”

 

For a moment, I hate everything. I slam the keyboard with all my might, but the consequences only prove that Robco was indeed a superior manufacturer, unparalleled in durability, even a couple centuries later.

 

I glance at the monitor to notice that there was a very short but extra page to the overview. Hitting the keyboard had advanced the text.

 

Two pairs of spare Auprets have been left in durable sterile containers located in the central desk drawer. No more can be
produced at this time. Handle with care.

 

The Auprets are in this room.

 

I scamper over to the desk drawers, head throbbing with feeling. The first drawer is mysteriously empty, dust filling the air. I reach for the second handle in anticipation, and lo and behold. But inside the second one is only in fact a single pair of small and transparent boxes; a thick metal base carved as a placeholder for each one’s prism-shaped chip. These must be the Auprets, though are incredibly tiny, each maybe a fingernail long. Veins of glowing energy course through them with some great power, one blue, and one orange. With a single hand I grasp the two containers, small and fragile.

 

Craving for a closer look, I bring the boxes to my face. As I close the distance, a high-pitched screech unexpectedly penetrates my ears.

 

“Agh!”

 

In tremendous pain, I fling the two containers aside, shattering them against the wall. More glass on the floor. My hands crush my earlobes in protection, but soon wane in strength, for the horrid sound has now eerily vanished.

 

The uncanny sensation has also magically disappeared.

 

Control returns, the two Auprets now cracked and lifeless. However, I am not sure what to think. These Auprets…were they really affecting me? I stop to breathe, to think. Then I scramble back over to the terminal. Curiosity beckons.

 

More. I need to know more. My mind endlessly races. Why me? And the Vaults! Why them? If they were actually experiments…

 

I reposition my hands on the trackball and keyboard.

 

Go back a page. Vaults. Vaults in the Columbia District. 101. Click.

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

ITEM COUNT: NO AUPRET REQUESTED AT THIS VAULT. [bACK]

101 DATABASE: SEARCH QUERY MATCHES 1 LOGS. [VIEW / BACK]

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The terminal fails to elaborate on my concerns, but I don’t remember such a log. Curiosity drags me deeper. Why didn’t I know about it? I should have known; I’ve scoured that database a thousand times over, every book, every magazine, every period. I need to know.

 

At my command, text appears on the screen.

 

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

////////////////////////////////////////////
101 LOG [1]/ 1 : “UNTITLED” | DATE: N/A | AUTHOR: N/A
////////////////////////////////////////////

It’s only quick and only temporary. I can remove them. They’ll only be there until I can get the water running.

I have long contemplated today where I should be, and what my priorities are. I asked myself a mere month ago: do I pursue
the greater good, or us? Time quickly flew by. Two weeks later it offered me an unforeseen deal. I wasn’t ready, but regardless
it had accepted for me. Once I had discovered the trade, I realized I never wanted it at all. At least, not yet; I simply didn’t spend
enough time. Devastated, I pondered how I could live on, and then I realized my very thoughts were indeed the solution: “live on.” 
My woes were the cure. I could if she could. The future would, too. Two birds with a single stone.

It sounded great. Truly. But the ideal solution to my personal dilemmas and beliefs had to have some shortcoming. And I found it.
I still am grateful for what I have received, and by no means is my gift a bad one. Normally I would be overjoyed. Yet in abandonment, 
I would feel no different than if I had never even considered that stone. I need more time. If my return is swift enough, perhaps I won’t 
be missed. I want to be remembered.

The notice of my absence will be inevitable. To prolong the effect and to mitigate my eventual guilt, I have found the other two existing
Auprets while gathering supplies at Vault-Tec. My first candidate was as clear as day, but the balance…originally a difficult choice.
Until I had noticed who would be –another – stray was it difficult. He would be perfect, though the Overseer would never approve of this. 
Vault 101 is the perfect place for this practice given its status; therefore I am afraid I must commit such a selfish act in secret.

She will be happy but blind, so Izayoi may be her mind.

I pray the Auprets are a success in both cases, despite their experimental status. 

Forgive me, and goodbye.   

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

 

I read them once. Twice. Three times. Those six letters refuse to change.

 

Izayoi is the surname of the parents I never had. It’s my surname.

 

Is this the “social experiment?” In shocking realization, I slowly reach for my head with my right hand, now numb with thought, steadily and surely. But something warm bumps my hand, and I jump in surprise. I turn around to see a figure looking over my shoulder. It’s Butch.

 

“Got an Aupret, huh?”

 

I don’t know how long he has been standing behind me. I draw my breath, and quietly release it. With a frown, I turn back towards the monitor.

 

“Don’t tell the others. Please.”

 

FORWARD ----->

Edited December 18, 2010 by AliasTheory

[AliasTheory]

Tried using some code tags in the formatting. A pop culture reference and a rather famous scientific reference.

 

Won't be posting another chapter for more than a week. Sorry! Life is busy.

[BlueDanube]

nice chapter.great idea adding a little riddle game to it.

 

let me guess...... "doctor who" R101 Airship or chinese pop culture --

[AliasTheory]

Did it on purpose since I knew I would be lacking some time about now.

 

And no. But both references strongly relate to some themes I've already established or just have. They go all the way back to the prologue.

 

Narrowing things down:

 

I guess pop culture is too broad. It is a lyric reference from a band whose songs I find to be quite poetic. The band has appeared in a video game before.

The science experiment is one that involves the lifelong learning of ASL. In California.

 

The riddle I won't talk about at all, other than that I've left important clues scattered about.

Edited December 6, 2010 by AliasTheory

[Spaceritual]

that rules out Archimedes then as no one said Eureka... the storyline is coming along nicely :)

[AliasTheory]

<----- BACKWARD

 

============================

Chapter 18: A Blind Step Left

============================

 

“Just keep shut about it. At least do that for me. I don’t know the girls will react. Let me sort things out.”

 

Butch nods understandingly, but I find myself in a bit of a predicament: should I be excited, or fearful? Intrigued or purely baffled? Swallowing my dread, I begin to backtrack through the computerized menus, eyes bouncing around and searching for answers in the pixilated text.

 

“You never told me how heavy this thing would be,” he says. “Anyway.” I hear him grunt. Briefly recalling our initial objective, I tear away from the screen to see on his bulky shoulder a large red and cylindrical object with a torn paper label, pipes freely draping from the darkened box capping the far end. So this is the exchanger. The overall scale is easily comparable to that of another grown human being. But not everything is completed; not for me. I turn back to the terminal in quietness, and the keys begin clacking again at my fingertips.

 

Metal hits the floor, the sound soft and firm. “I thought we were leaving?” he says expectantly. “As quick as we came?”

 

Hypnotically, I respond. “No. Not yet.”

 

I select the data reports section meanwhile, but I’m only presented with a blank page with nothing to report. Frustrated, I begin to scrunch up the side of my suit as I violently inhale the dusty air through my teeth.

 

“Tell me,” Butch questions calmly. “Why?”

 

“There’s more to it! There has to be…!” I press harder on the keyboard and clench the tracking ball. “I’m missing something. Why don’t I damn get-”

 

“What is there to get! Does that big ‘zero out of zero’ mean anything to you?” he shouts, suddenly raising his volume. “I saw it. What about that ‘one out of one?’ There’s not much to look at. All we know is that you’ve got one and it does a lot of weird s***. This crap is two centuries old.”

 

“Well,” I sigh. “Mind telling me what this is?” Pulling back up the mysterious log up with my surname on it, I sidestep from the monitor for Butch to see its entirety. Squirming on the inside with his mouth deformed, he bites his lip.

 

“Fine,” he admits. “I don’t know.”

 

“There you go!” I mock. “There you go. So shut up and let me do stuff.” I resume my former position, hunched over the keyboard. Where are my answers? Me being the mind…? It’s definitely talking about me. I need answers…

 

Things go quiet for a few moments. Then he speaks up again. “Doing research in this h***hole at this hour wasn’t part of the plan, Izayoi.”

 

I immediately fire back. “Now it is.”

 

“Okay, cool then,” he shrugs, sounding uncaring in tone. “You can stay here then. Just STAY! The rest of us will be out and away from whatever creepy s*** that’s in here.”

 

“Fine. I will.” I retort. “You guys probably couldn’t even survive without me anyway.”

 

The words come out quick and easy.

 

“…the f***, man!?” he yells, flabbergasted. “What the F*** is wrong with you? Are you forgetting what we even came here for? Thick-headed son of a b****.”

 

My gaze narrows, molten with rage. “You don’t get it, do you?” It’s my turn to get loud, eye to eye. “My heart and memories are mine, and mine alone damn it! Not to some machine. Whatever this is has been screwing with me since day one. I need to know!”

 

In my anger, I sweep the mechanical parts off the central desk, joining the shattered Auprets in the corner. Slowly taking a deep breath, I pop myself a “chill pill,” realizing my extremity in attitude. I go back to close the terminal keyboard and rest my hand – now a fist – against the wall. Chips of old paint fall to the floor.

 

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

 

“Heh. Yeah, I thought so,” I catch him nodding agreeingly, scarlet eyes thin. “I know you didn’t.”

 

I’m surprised by his response.

 

“…wow, really?” I look back at him through my dark hair brushing the corner of my cheek. He’s smiling. “You’d just forget it all? Just like that?”

 

He chuckles, crossing his hands over his body. “Yep, I would. You’ll need to try harder; I wouldn’t ditch you. I know you anyway, douchebag. Since forever.”

 

“You do?” I have to smirk, but my expression is quick to turn sour and bitter again. “It’s just that my life feels like one big lie.” Turning away I continue, sinking deeper into the recesses of my mind. “An even bigger lie,” I add, recalling our fateful departure from Vault 101.

 

“Tch, like you’re the only guy that has been lied to.” Butch picks up the ion exchanger again, putting it back over his shoulder. “None of us are going to forget overlooking that craggy cliff for the first time. There were the cars, the old Springvale houses and even the sun. Or more like the whole damn sky. But I’d count on Lyn about that, too.” He sniffs. “We should get back to her, anyhow.”

 

I grin, still looking at the wall. “Uh huh. To see if you’re screwed or not.” I glance back.

 

“Hah!” Gesturing in amusement, he gives me the finger-gun. “This guy’s still got it.”

 

“I guess I do, don’t I?” I’m now warmly looking at Butch, up close and personal. Our past little argument feels so distant now. “You know, thanks for understanding. You’re a pretty cool guy.”

 

“Don’t got these shades for nothing,” he winks. He puts them back on as a reminder, and then promptly removes them. While quite fearless and even a bit arrogant, I have to say Butch isn’t as intimidating as he sometimes appears to be. “Come on. Just write down what you need to from that terminal, and we can figure it out later.”

 

I shake my head in disagreement. “Nah, I don’t need to.”

 

“You sure?”

 

“Yeah, I got it down. In here.” I point to my head and give it a couple taps.

 

“Hope you don’t regret it. But hurry up, this thing’s getting heavy.”

 

-------

 

We head back down the stairs. I suppose I had overreacted a bit back there; furthermore, our short trip actually raised more questions than what would have been expected: answers. There’s just not enough information or perhaps, not enough time. Maybe it is about time everyone took a break, even me. In any case, our mission for today has indeed been accomplished. As things come back to full circle, I look down to the center of the lobby to see Lyn upright on the bench, gently stroking Dogmeat. Things seem to have been very uneventful, Saori and Saya slouching behind the wooden counter under the light.

 

As we approach Lyn, she begins to speak, despite her focus still remaining on rubbing behind Dogmeat’s pointy ears.

 

“So…you found two it without me.”

 

“Yes we did,” I respond. Butch gives me a confused look upon hearing of my added inclusion, but I reply with a serious gaze, reminding him of my request to keep the Auprets a secret. “We’re back in one piece.”

 

Knowing Butch, at least I didn’t get a “black and blue” back there. He’s usually quick to get physical. Otherwise I could count on needing eye patch to cover it up. He would do that.

 

“Well, good. We’re leaving then.” She stands up and begins walking to the hallway. “Let’s go, Dogmeat.”

 

Lyn begins to mutter some incomprehensible words to herself, sounding disgusted and irritated. Her fainting is still a mystery as well as her self-deemed “unspoken” words, but once again, I think I’ll wait until I get on her good side.

 

I cue our other lady companions to join back up as we proceed to leave Vault-Tec. Things are getting dark, so grabbing the fixed bulb and the wired energy cells, navigating through the hallways feels a bit easier. Saori is quick to pick up a nearby and large metal tube, turning it more or less into a makeshift lamp. Even with all this advanced technology that now lays dormant in Vault-Tec, things as simple as a light bulb remain fairly inefficient, smoking hot to the touch. The rest of us keep our gun-mounted flashlights off; we don’t want to use any more resources than we have to.

 

I notice Lyn tightly gripping her handgun in her holster.

 

We near the end of the hallway and spot the entrance just around the circular desks. Butch is still holding up despite his heavy luggage.

 

“Stop,” Lyn commands. We listen and follow, bewildered, unsure of her decision. With the world now absent of our footsteps and rattling gear, a hollow thumping sound is audible. There are also light murmurs.

 

We’re not alone.

 

“Where is that coming from?” Saori whispers.

 

Eyes wading through the darkness, we try to acquire some sort of source. Suddenly a muted but gritty sound of revving strikes us. A rocky mist rains down from the ceiling. Layers of concrete are being carved away.

 

“No, no, no, NO…!” I draw my rifle at once.

 

“Raiders!” Lyn shouts. Dogmeat starts barking viciously. “They’re coming through the second floor!”

 

I had forgotten the power of the VATS; she can see them with no less difficulty than a Deathclaw has spotting its prey.

 

“Everyone!” I order, assuming control. “Put some lead in there! And Butch, drop that exchanger!”

 

“Where do I put the damn thing!?”

 

“Somewhere!”

 

Locked and loaded, we drench the ceiling with bullets, sparks and rubble flying every which way, desperate for blood. The light of the tracers are almost blinding in the darkness. But it’s not working.

 

“Crap, the wall’s too thick! Switch to a heavier caliber…sh**, too la-”

 

A massive slab of concrete violently crashes down in front of the double wooden doors to Vault-Tec, kicking up a thick cloud of dust that is impenetrable by sight alone. The revving is easily recognizable of that of a heavy chainsaw, now a full-blown roar. Posters and papers of all sorts disperse in the air, newly fired and lethal rounds, now heading in our direction, tearing through the fluttering archaic material in their ferocious swarm.

 

“Come on boys! Kill them for whatever they’ve got!” Three Raiders emerge from the cloud, charging, spraying away.

 

“Kicka**!”

 

“F***ing…!” Getting down by the desk, I toss out my used assault rifle clip - even with a trickle of rounds left in it - and slam in a new one, flying splinters of wood pinching my skin. The clip lands next to Lyn, who is able to cover the left side of the room alone, conservative in pace, firing with her unparalleled agility; a quick peek over cover reveals Dogmeat, lurking behind the desks to snag the rushers by surprise. A grimy raider with spiked purple hair jumps the desk without warning, knocking the dead terminals onto the tiled floor, but Dogmeat pounces her, tearing her flesh to fine shreds.

 

“Don’t let them flank us!” I bellow. “Pin them down!”

 

I see three more Raiders emerging from the ceiling as it slowly gives away more to their weight. Saori scampers to the area under the fallen stairwell in the corner, Butch laying the floor covering the advance, picking off all unlucky souls that would try to interfere using his meaty buckshot. Closing my eyes, I aim in the general direction of the assault and fire away. I hear moaning and screaming from those scavengers, but even over the nonstop gunfire their ear-piercing war cries are numerous and equally plentiful. How many of them are there? My gun then clicks empty once again.

 

“Saya! Where are you!” I call. I haven’t seen her.

 

“Right here!” She’s right behind me, fumbling with a new magazine of her pistol, the sniper of hardly any use at this range. I can hardly hear her voice over the gunfire even at this distance. “I’m too close…!”

 

“Go back down the hall!” I advise. “It should be easy to line up a target…we’ll stay clear of here!” I yank out a frag from my belt and rip the pin out with my teeth. Being careful to not be too unwieldy with it, I chuck it with an overhand to bounce it around the arched corner, getting it deep in the conflict. But it doesn’t go off; it’s a dud.

 

Spitting the grenade pin out, I turn back to Saya, still kneeling by my side in panic.

 

“What are you doing?! Go, go, go! I’m ready! We’re ready!”

 

“Okay…! I’m sorry!” I hear sadness in her voice. She puts away her handgun and hastily slings the sniper over her back, hands close to her face. I’m hurrying…I’m hurrying…going…!”

 

I almost lose my ground getting up to my feet. Out of the corner of my sight, I notice a Raider leaning over the far counter near the exit, a worn sniper rifle readied on top, a rusty pair of goggles over his bald head. Even in midst of the pandemonium, his voice is crystal clear.

 

“Not so fast you little f***ing b****…!”

 

He has Saya in his sights, resetting the bolt. I want to shoot him, but I then realize my rifle, which was already empty to begin with, lies on the floor.

 

“Crap!”

 

In a frantic attempt to put a halt to his attempt, I draw my large handgun across my body and take aim, ready to instantly let loose a round. I’m halfway through squeezing the trigger until I notice him abruptly jerk backward, blood spurting from his forehead, painting the walls. Through the chaos, I see him drop dead on the table and spill onto the floor behind his cover, his lifeless hand knocking the rifle into the no-man’s-land that lay in between.

 

“Got him!” Saori shouts in glee. She glances in my direction and smiles in her success, but I don’t look directly back at her just yet; noticing the large light bulb from earlier resting on the destroyed stairs gives me a more startling conclusion. My eyes drift back to the hole in the ceiling, and five more Raiders flood in, some haphazardly fire down into the room before their decent.

 

I have an idea. I’ll keep it dark for you…probably just how you like it.

 

“Saori! Kill that light! Flashlights off!”

 

“Wha?” She gives me a feeble expression. “But…ah well, okay!”

 

Grabbing the bulb of its rocky perch, she throws it onto the floor into the middle of the warzone. Her tenderness is too much; it doesn’t go out. The room flickers between black and pure color as the bulb rolls away, wobbling, much gunfire ceasing, though only momentarily.

 

“What the h***…where did those brats go!?” It’s a male.

 

Muzzle flashes begin to light up the room again. “Saori! KILL that LIGHT!”

 

Surprised at the outcome, she sprays her submachine gun onto the floor where it had landed, some bullets nipping the foot of a passing Raider, who by the gist of his limb’s gory appearance, had just stepped on the glass bulb with his barefoot. He screams loudly and shrilly in pain. Good. Without our light source, it is only the guns that give blinks of imagery…and same to them. Well, almost.

 

“Lyn!” I face the other way. “Holding up alright?”

 

She doesn’t respond, muttering what sounds like more curses to herself. I’m irritated; we don’t have time for this.

 

“Hey, IDIOT! I’m talking to you!”

 

“I can hear you, A**HOLE.” Even then she remains monotone. Controlled, she lands two shots on the Raider across the room, Dogmeat now slightly wrapped by her feet in protection.

 

“Take them out as we go! You can see them, we can’t!” Lyn still has the VATS and all its superhuman strength. “Just keep the light low! We’re retreating…backing out through that hallway again!”

 

Butch and Saori confidentially look over to me, and I give them the cue to rendezvous on my position and eventually retreat. But there is no response from Lyn. She keeps firing away, joyfully on her killing spree in her ballade of madness. There must be a dozen of those guys. Twist, turn and pull; her hair whipping about, its one soul after another, sending them all straight to h***, one bullet at a time. To my dismay, she advances towards the conflict, now dancing with those devils in the pale moonlight that peers through the corner of Vault-Tec’s roof.

 

She’s trying to show off her power.

 

“B****! We’re f***ing leaving!”

 

Still no answer.

 

“Lyn!” I’m downright infuriated. “Get over here! I will NOT let you compromise ANY of us!”

 

I check back on the couple to fortunately see they are by my side as planned, dirty and tired, but untainted by death.

 

“Saori! Butch! Evacuate down the hall!”

 

“No,” they both shout in unison, “we’re not leaving you behind!”

 

I then remember Saya is at the end of the hall. Nevertheless, I’m still determined.

 

“Alright, let’s all go! Lyn, get over-”

 

I set my eyes again on the chaos. Through the few remaining muzzle flashes that now illuminate the room, I see a small, round object in the air heading in her direction. Its identity unmistakable, moving seemingly frame-by-frame in speed, time appearing slowed. A live grenade.

 

Lyn is facing the other way. It lands next to her right foot.

 

“No!” It was likely more than just me.

 

In spur of the moment, still blindly loyal, Dogmeat jumps full force into her body from behind the counter, knocking her off her feet in midst of the danger that surrounds the both of them.

 

Two yelps. Boom. A violent explosion; it’s no dud. Fragments diverge in all directions; airborne, tiny, rocky particles from the ground sting my eyes and make them water. I fight through the pain to assist, grabbing my empty rifle from earlier, now realizing what had just happened. A shrapnel-ridden and furry body lays face-down and elevated.

 

“No…no!” Lyn, drained of all her strength, struggles to roll the bestial body off of her. Three Raiders remain on the opposite side of the battlefield and begin their approach. “Dogmeat!” She helplessly falls to her hands and knees, now greatly wounded but alive, dripping and entangled with streaks of red, her voice reduced to sobs. Her top is drenched and just as repulsive. I thought I would never hear her like this, even in my wildest dreams. Yet Dogmeat is dead, his body bloody and lifeless, tongue dangling loosely. His corpse is now one with the mass of punctured bodies that are strewn across the floor, a product by none other than us.

 

“Dogmeat! Why...! Why! You’re still alive…you have to be!”

 

“Get up!” I shout. She doesn’t move a muscle, the Raiders closing in. “Damn you!”

 

Instinctively running towards her, I fire my handgun at the three primitive assailants as fast as my right fingers let me, my assault rifle in my left hand. The Raiders are wide out in the open, undefended. The high recoil makes things difficult, but eight shots – a full clip – do the trick. They are enough to take them down in their linear movement. Three successive thuds resonate, almost like an echo. I take a deep breath. All is finally quiet; there were not as many of those murderers as I thought. Saori and Butch remain frozen in place, their breathing audibly heavy despite a short reprieve from battle.

 

http://fallout3nexus.com/imageshare/images/2144141-1292621788.png

 

“Lyn!” She flips upright, looking fearful for once, both hands inverted and still on the ground. I get down and put my hands on her shoulders, exhaling. “He’s dead, you can’t do anything-”

 

“Drew!” she gasps. Her eyes are large and her lips are trembling, frizzy strings of hair drooping down in front of her face. “You’re still here...? But…why can’t I see…!”

 

I stare into her eyes and then squint. The color of her left eye has faded from a bright azure to a soulless white, although her pupil is still visible. She clutches the area in pain and shock.

 

In a single moment, Lyn had lost it all. The VATS is gone as well, and so is her left eyesight.

 

“Drew…you still came even though…ah!”

 

“Heads up!” Butch shouts across the room.

 

“Not done yet!” A raspy voice.

 

I spin around to see what is in fact another and likely final Raider, charging at me with a long and rusty object. The sound of revving, which had disappeared some time ago, reasserts its dominance. It’s the chainsaw.

 

“S***!” I curse. I yank out my empty assault rifle and block the brute’s overhead swing with it, sparks soaring from the friction; my arms shake in weakness as I try to push him back. But he’s too strong, the razor teeth cutting closer to me as the buzzing threatens to rip me – and Lyn – apart. “Goddamn!”

 

“You and your girlfriend are dead, you piece of sh-”

 

He’s cut off in midsentence; something from the direction of the hallway rips straight through his left ear, exiting right out the other. More red. He collapses on top of me, his war-torn and tattooed face ghastly as I shove him away, being careful to avoid the revolving blades as the chainsaw hits the floor. It slowly powers down. Removing the Raider body reveals a familiar face on the far end.

 

“Saya!”

 

Gun in hand, she pants and smiles, although appearing teary-eyed, relived that I’m safe. I smile back and softly laugh in equal relief. I return my focus to Lyn, who is still heartbroken and injured.

 

“We got what we came for.” I say, calmer. “Didn’t expect any less. Say your farewells; we’re leaving. Even I’m not that crazy…we all have our limits.” I close the eyes of our fallen ally. Lyn, however, is lucky to be alive. We can patch her up later.

 

I reflect on what had just happened.

 

“There are no action-heroes in the Wastes.”

 

FORWARD ---->

Edited December 27, 2010 by AliasTheory

[AliasTheory]

There are some pop culture references in here again.

 

This was kinda fun to write. I like watching people getting the crap beaten out of each other, so writing about it is pretty cool too. It makes sense, right?

[BlueDanube]

yeah it is :D ,nicely done again. my guess is that the next chapter gonna be full of drama,also.... seeing lyn with one eye.seems fammiliar :mellow:

 

thanks for the great chapter al =)

[AliasTheory]

...also.... seeing lyn with one eye.seems fammiliar :mellow:

 

That is in fact an unintentional coincidence. But I did plan this quite a while back. It is a direct metaphor for something else.

 

Copy pasting from my status update regarding the tragedy in this chapter:

 

I do have a reason for it. Maybe you should ask yourself who else has been "blind," as well as the connotation behind "left" versus "right." I expect readers to find symbolisms.

Edited July 13, 2011 by AliasTheory