Chapter 18: Made for a Purpose

The group walked down the steel corridors of the vault and back into the large atrium. Nothing much had really changed from when they left, other than a few patients being moved somewhere else. Michael saw Nat running up to him from the other side of the atrium.

"Holy shit. I.. I didn't know.." Nat could barely speak for she had witnessed the chaos in the gymnasium from the cameras on the mobile vault force. "I didn't think they'd go that far." She was horrified at what happened in there and disgusted in her fellow security staff for committing such an act against their fellow dwellers.

"Hopefully, what we do now will change all of that." Michael said. "Where's Dad?"

"He's in the medical office with your dog. I made sure nobody got to them." Nat answered. "Michael, do you think this could really work?" Nats' eyes sunk in sadness, worried and scared for what was to come if their plan failed. Michael locked eyes with his older sister.

"We have to try." He said, but that answer gave no comfort to Natalie. Michael walked past his sister and his companions followed. Alice, however, stayed behind with Nat.

"Does he seem different to you?" Alice asked Natalie. Natalie didn't respond, but she did process what Alice had asked her. She looked over her shoulder and toward her younger brother. Soon, worry filled her heart. A worry that would manifest into a great fear. Michael and his companions walked back into the medical office, spotting Adam analyzing and studying the G.E.C.K. on the table. Dogmeat spotted the crew and excitedly ran to them, jumping onto Michaels chest and licking his face. A small smile grew on Michaels face at the sight of his loyal dog and he petted between the mutts ears.

"You're back. Thank God." Adam said, turning his attention to the crew. He was relieved to see his son come back in one piece.

"Yeah. We made it out. Do you anything new on the G.E.C.K.?" Michael asked, setting Dogmeat back on the ground.

"I believe I have something." Adam gestured to the intricate and complex mechanisms inside the metal case. "These devices are extremely advanced, more advanced than anything inside a normal G.E.C.K.. I believe this could be the second variant, the one that could terraform an entire landscape." Adam explained his findings.

"That's incredible. With this, we don't even need to make a cure. We could sterilize the pathogen entirely from the source." Michael said, happy to finally hear some good news.

"We could, but there's one problem. A G.E.C.K. this complex needs a heaping load of power to function, the kind of power this little fusion generator can't give off. I'm afraid there's only one thing in this vault that can give off the power necessary." Adam said.

"The vault generators." Michael finished his fathers sentence, fully understanding now just how dire the situation is.

"Precisely. Unfortunately for us, the generators haven't been running at full capacity due to the main fusion reactor not being properly maintained. If we want this mission to be a success, someone needs to repair the main reactor and get the generators running at full capacity. Only then, will it give us enough charge to power the G.E.C.K.. It's a suicide mission." Adam made it very clear that this mission had extreme consequences and it's most likely the team that goes down there might not come back.

"So, let me get this straight." Michael said. "We need one team to fix the main reactor, another team to power up the main generators and another team to make sure the infected air gets pumped out and fresh air gets in all within a four minute time frame."

"And we need someone to push the button." Adam finished. "The G.E.C.K. requires someone to be present to turn it on. However, it'll give off a massive power surge and will most likely heavily injure the person, or worse. Not to mention the G.E.C.K. has to be placed near the vats, or it won't work." Adam shuddered at the thought. The room fell silent for a moment, thinking on what to do, or if they could even do anything.

"I'll do it." Michael said, breaking the silence.

"No, you won't." Adam ordered. "Dealing with the Badgers is one thing, but this is suicide."

"If anyone gets even close to the vats, they'll be overwhelmed with the pathogen. It'll be like a gas chamber in there." Michael argued. "That damned vaccine has been coursing through my veins for more than a decade; my body has adapted to it. I am the only one here who can even get remotely close to those vats. I have to do this." Michael was determined to save his vault.

"I will not let you kill yourself over this place. We just got you back and now you want to go down into the belly of the beast. We'll send a person in a hazmat suit." Adam reasoned.

"And send him to his death? Even if he can withstand the extreme amount of infected air, which is highly unlikely, the power surge from the G.E.C.K. will surely kill him. My body can heal itself faster than a normal human being. I am the only one who even has a chance of turning on the G.E.C.K. and surviving." Michael proclaimed.

"How do you know your any different from a normal human?" Adam was beginning to get infuriated, but so was Michael.

"Because I've been shot!" Michael yelled, surprising his father and making him go silent. "I've been shot multiple times in vital organs and arteries and I came out walking days later. Just yesterday, I had a massive chunk of debris lodged in my thigh and now it's nothing more than a scab!" Michael locked eyes with his father. "I was made for this."

"I am your father. I watched you be born into this world. I will not watch you die before I do." Adam stood up and faced his child. "You will not go down there, you will not activate the G.E.C.K. and you will not get yourself killed. End of discussion." Michael and Adam stared at each other, both with stern and frustrated expressions on their face. Michael turned around and stormed out of the medical office. Adam sadly sighed.

"Please. For the love of God, don't let him go down there. I already lost him once, I don't want to lose him again." Adam pleaded to both Bonnie and Jenkins. The duo looked at each other.

"We'll watch over him, Mr. Becker." Jenkins said to which Bonnie agreed.

"Thank you. It's all I ask." Adam said. Adam sat back down at the desk and continued his work. Bonnie, Jenkins and Dogmeat left the medical office and spotted Michael sitting on a nearby bench, clearly frustrated. The trio approached their Vault Dweller. Bonnie sat down next to him while Jenkins stood and Dogmeat sat at The Prodigy's feet. The group sat in silence for a bit.

"They're gonna send someone to die down there." Michael broke the silence.

"Look, I'm sure whoever they send can make it. It's not worth killing yourself for." Bonnie said.

"I agree. You've been through enough trouble as it is. You don't need to go down there." Jenkins replied.

"I can take care of myself." Michael declared.

"It's not a matter of whether or not you can take care of yourself. It's too dangerous to go down there. And if they can't send a person down, they could always send that Mr. Handy you guys got." Bonnie argued. "I agree with your old man. It's a suicide mission."

"I'm the only thing in this vault that survive down there. Toddsworth has no combat programs in him, he'll be mauled by the inhabitants down there." Michael wasn't letting up. Bonnie stared at him for a few seconds. She put her hand on Michaels shoulder.

"Tell you what; it's pretty stuffy in here. You wanna go outside and get some fresh air?" Bonnie asked. Michael didn't respond for a bit.

"Alright, fine." Michael said. The two stood and they all began walking toward the entrance. All of a sudden, Bonnie pushed Michael into an adjacent room and slammed the console, closing the door. She pushed a button on the console panel next to the door, locking it from her side. Dogmeat barked at her and was about to jump her, but Jenkins grabbed the canine and held him back. "What the Hell are you doing?!" Michael yelled from a window next to the door.

"I'm sorry, Mikey, but this is for your own good. You're not going to go get yourself killed." She pointed to Michael through the glass. "Jenkins and I will help out here. You stay there." Bonnie walked away from the glass and Jenkins soon followed, carrying an angry Dogmeat.

"Damn it! I can't believe this." Michael exasperated, feeling betrayed by his friends. Michael looked around and saw that he was shoved into what appeared to be once a recreational room. There were aligned seats and even some couches and a table in the middle with a large, camera like machine on it and a large flat surface where the machine is pointed. He was in one of the three recreational theaters in the vault, the smallest one it looked like. Michael was never allowed in this one. This theater in particular was used to show more "adult" content. The machine on the table was the projector and there were some holotape's scattered around it as well, most likely those ancient adult films. Michael had no interest in them; he needed to find a way out. The door was a viable option, but it would be difficult for him to open it from his side and not be caught. The vents were the next option, but they were far too small to traverse. There seemed to be no feasible way for Michael to escape.

"Well, that was a shocking turn of events." The voice had appeared again in front of Michael, choosing to show itself sitting on one of the lounge couches.

"What do you want now?" Michael begrudgingly asked.

"Same thing any free American citizen wants: freedom, luxuries, the right to bear arms, and the death of anything communist. However, right now, I think we both got what we needed." The voice replied.

"What do you mean?" Michael asked, looking around the room some more. He spotted a small row of three lockers in the corner of the room.

"You're stubborn, Michael. You've always been stubborn. These people don't want you to go down there, which is good." The voice said.

"How is that good?" Michael asked, investigating the lockers. Inside one was a mannequin torso and head. Inside the one next to it were various wigs and makeup. The third one only had cleaning supplies in it.

"It's good because you'll die if you go down there. It's unlikely you'll kill anyone down there and getting to the vats is nearly impossible with that horde. I'll say this again: we cut our losses and run." The voice answered, still wanting to leave the vault entirely.

"You always want to run. Why not give me some useful suggestions for once?" Michael shot back, not paying attention to his other half.

"Oh that's rich, you blue bastard. If my memory serves me right, which is also your memory, it was me that saved your sorry ass on multiple occasions and it was my idea to scare those jackalopes to make them crush those Legion bitches and Custer's errand boys back in that shitty shit town of Shitsville. Or whatever the fuck it was called." The voice retaliated.

"Valentine. It was called Valentine." Michael exasperated, turning his gaze to his other half sitting on the lounge chair. Michael saw his other half that looked almost exactly like him and pondered. Suddenly, an idea popped into the young vault dwellers head.

"Oh God. What are you planning?" The voice asked, sensing the gears moving in Michaels' head.

"You, my good apparition, have just given me an idea." Michael said with a slight grimace. Three hours have passed since the plan was made. The Overseer and Michaels' father had assembled the teams of any able vault dweller that was willing. Nat and a few engineers are maintaining the ventilation, waiting for the right time. Bonnie and Jenkins had aided the vault the best they could and now all that was left was to accomplish the mission. Michaels' father was head of this mission, explaining the mission to the teams and now was doing role call. This mission is of upmost importance, but his mind drifted back to his son. How he had gone above and beyond to secure this mission; braving the outside all to fix his vault. He felt proud of his son, but he also felt ashamed in himself for not preventing this. If he had arrived just a few minutes earlier before his son was tested on, all of this might have been prevented. Adam was a scientist from the minute he had taken the G.O.A.T., but was he really a father? Adams' mind felt adrift.

"Dr. Becker?" A man in a vault regulated hazmat suit approached Adam.

"Hm? Oh! Yes. My apologies." Adam composed himself. "You must be the one, right?"

"Yes. Harris Tanner. I was one of the engineers on the lower floors" The man introduced himself.

"Good to have you aboard. Do you understand what your mission is?" Adam asked.

"Reach the central container units on the lower floor, attach the G.E.C.K. to the main pump systems and punch in a combination code." Harris cited.

"That's an oversimplification of events, but you are correct." Adam remarked. "Do you know the combination code?"

"No. That's what I was hoping I could learn from you. You have the most experience with the device." Harris answered as he pulled out a pen and a notepad. While the two discussed the combination, the companions were huddled around one of the lunch tables in the corner of the atrium. Bonnie was sitting down while smoking with Dogmeat laying by her feet. Jenkins was outside of his armor and decided to readjust the exoskeleton of his power armor.

"I don't think you're allowed to smoke down here." Jenkins said, adjusting the hydraulics on his suit.

"Bite me." Bonnie crudely replied. She took a huff of her cigarette and sighed. "So, what're you gonna do?"

"What?" Jenkins replied.

"After this. You're gonna go back to your Brotherhood, right? What happens then?" Bonnie said.

"When I return to the Brotherhood, I have to give a full report of my mission with you two. After that, the scribes will examine the technology and data I have acquired from this vault. Who knows? They might make me a Paladin Commander after this. What about you?" Jenkins answered.

"I don't know. Get paid." Bonnie responded. Jenkins stopped what he was doing and looked over to the rugged mercenary.

"Remind me. What did Michael offer you?" Jenkins inquired. "From what I've heard from you two, Michael hired you essentially when he came out of the vault. He wouldn't have have enough money to hire anyone by then. What did he offer you?" Bonnie glanced over to the Paladin.

"He offered me anything I wanted from this place." Bonnie said.

"Anything?" Jenkins questioned.

"Anything. Anything in reasonable standards at least. That's what he said." The mercenary explained.

"Reasonable standards? That's a bit vague, don't you think?" Jenkins said.

"I don't know. He said this place could provide shelter. If that's the case, I refuse to wear one of those godforsaken, bright blue jumpsuits." Bonnie stated as she took the last puff of her cigarette. "I want to know why they have so many and if that shit is passed down." Jenkins began fiddling with his power armor again.

"Would you even want to stay?" Jenkins asked. Bonnie looked back to the Paladin. "Don't get me wrong, vault life can be good, but I don't think you're the type of person that wants to settle down."

"What's that suppose to mean?" Bonnie questioned.

"Just a mere observation. You've walked The Wasteland your whole life. Settling down can get boring, or worse: tedious. The Wasteland is a very tempting place." Jenkins said as he entered his power armor.

"That's what I'm worried about." Bonnie said as her attention turned to the door of the room she shoved Michael into. Jenkins took notice.

"He'll be fine. He's strong." Jenkins assured.

"I don't know. He got a taste of what's out there. I don't think he's gonna have an easy time resettling in here." Bonnie claimed.

"Maybe at first, but he grew up here. He's gonna be fine." Jenkins said. Bonnie looked up at the towering Paladin, hoping he was right. A loud clap suddenly rang out across the atrium. It was the Prodigy's father trying to gain attention.

"Alright, people! The time is now. I will recite this one more time: the mission is to plug the Garden of Eden Creation Kit into the Hazardous Materials main computer downstairs located on the bottom floor of the vault. When that is done, a four minute time frame will open in which all of the air in the vault will be cycled out and new air from the outside will be pumped through via our exterior ventilation. We only have one shot at this, so I need everyone focused and aware of their objectives." Adam called out. Everyone got in position. A hazmat team consisting of four individuals will be sent down to activate the G.E.C.K. while the maintenance team stay on the top floor to activate the exterior vents. When Adam was done instructing everyone, Bonnie approached him.

"You sure this is gonna work?" She asked the middle-aged scientist.

"I don't really see an alternative." Adam replied as he rubbed his temple. Bonnie looked around at the dwellers, all ready to save their home.

"Aren't you going to tell them about the radiation?" Bonnie questioned.

"It's best they aren't aware of it. We can't have anyone second guessing anything right now." Adam answered. His gaze fell onto the door which held his son in a room. "Would you mind checking on Michael? I know he'll want to know it's happening." He requested. Bonnie looked over to the door.

"Sure. No problem." Bonnie left the scientist and approached the the large, steel door. She pressed a button on the side panel and heard the door mechanism unlock. The door slid into the wall and revealed the theater. Michael was sitting on one of the couches as a movie played. Bonnie didn't know what it was and paid it no mind.

"Hey." She called out to The Prodigy, but got no response. "I know you're mad, but we can't have you going off to get yourself killed down there. It's for your own good." Bonnie still got no response. She walked up behind Michael. "Cold shoulder? Fine. Whatcha watching anyway?" She put her hand on Michael shoulder only for his head to fall into the floor. Bonnie stared shocked for a brief moment, but quickly found that this was a mere mannequin with Michaels vault suit over it and a wig on. "Son of a bitch!" She snarled and spun around, storming out of the room, not even locking door behind her. As soon as she left, one of the lockers in the corner creaked open and Michael slid out of his hiding spot in nothing but his undergarments and a t-shirt.

"Sorry Bonnie." Michael said to himself. He snatched his jumpsuit from the discarded mannequin and threw it over his shoulders. He grabbed his revolver from one of the lockers, leaving the rest of his equipment as not to risk getting spotted. Michael then snuck out of the room and into the crowd of dwellers in the auditorium. Almost everyone was here to witness and pray that the mission is a success. He saw Bonnie grab Jenkins in a hurry, only to assume that she most likely told the Paladin he was gone. He got behind other dwellers as not to be spotted and, just as soon as he was in the clear, made a dash for the adjacent hallway.

"How is he gone?" Jenkins asked the mercenary.

"I don't know how he did it, but he's gone and I don't know where he is." Bonnie hastily explained.

"We have to tell Adam." Jenkins said. The two spun around, only to see the hazmat leave in the elevator toward the bottom floor. The mission has begun. The two quickly pulled Adam aside.

"Michaels gone." Bonnie said.

"What? How?" Adam questioned.

"I don't know and we don't have a clue where he is now." Bonnie answered. Adam pondered for a second.

"This isn't the only elevator down. A vault this size requires multiple ways down. He could be heading toward one of the secondary elevators or a stairwell." Adam theorized.

While the mission began to go underway, Michael was bolting down the corridor, racing corner after corner of the ever sprawling layout of Vault 25. His dusty, black boots skidding across the metal floor after every turn. After running the fastest he ever ran, he finally came across an elevator. Michael slammed the button, hoping that it was still functional. His prayers would be answered as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Michael entered the elevator, but saw that the lift only went down to the 8th floor. He didn't have time to look for another way down, so he selected the 8th floor. The doors slid back shut and the elevator began descending.

1

Michael slipped back into his disheveled and damaged vault jumpsuit. He laced up his boots and buckled that trusty PIP-Boy 2000 back onto his wrist. He then pulled out his revolver and checked his ammunition.

2

He had only four rounds left in the cylinder. He prayed to whatever god was listening that he wouldn't have to use them, but, if he had to, he prayed that those shots would count.

3

Michael took a breath and prepared himself on what was to be a suicide mission and all he had were four rounds.

4

He cannot fail. If he makes one screw up, the entire vault could be at risk. Or worse.

5

The air is getting clouded. Pretty soon it won't feel like breathing oxygen.

6

Deeper yet deeper. Michael can hear some of the dwellers outside as he descends. They are groaning, almost undead like. It reminds the boy of his time in Lincoln City.

7

Michael takes a deep breath as he will soon be confronted with an unholy sight that he ran from. The air is worse and would more than likely poison a regular man.

8

Michael is far from regular.

Ding

The elevator doors slide open and Michael bursts out with his revolver at the ready. He is in a corridor with two paths in either direction. The halls are barely lit with the brightest light being the inside of the elevator. The steel walls have scratches, dents, and dried blood splattered on their surfaces. The remaining lights show a red dust being spewed out of the vents, creating this red haze the haunts this floor and most likely the above and below it. This place is unholy.

"Do you even know what floor this is?" The voice called out.

"This is the agriculture floor. Or, what's left of it." Michael answered. This floor was mostly prioritized for growing the food for the vault, but it does have some residential spots. Just below this floor is maintenance and after that are the generators, and the vats. Michael could hear the distant groaning of the unfortunate dwellers that were down here when the tanks burst. The Prodigy switched on his PIP-Boy light as an ominous green clashed with the fog red. The light revealed the horrors of scratched metal, dried blood painting the walls, and random bits of machinery pulled out from the grates. With the only light being from that wrist mounted device to guide him through this horrid place, Michael pushed on through the dark underbelly of Vault 25. As the young boy continued through the floor, he saw more and more damage done to the interior, flashing emergency lights flickered and sputtered around him and the howling screeches and groaning approached ever closer. Michael turned a corner and found one of the agricultural rooms open. He entered the room and saw the lights barely flickering above the planters. He examined some the planters and saw that they had all had these horrid red blotches with blackish outlines. They had all been exposed to the chemical for too long and became tainted. All crops on this floor would have to be replanted.

"How long do you think it'll take to regrow all of this? Probably better to just abandon the vault." The voice taunted.

"Shut it." Michael responded. A loud crash erupted from the halls, immediately grabbing the attention of the Prodigy. Michael abandoned the crops and continued on his path to not be caught. Michael ran down the hall to find the elevator. If his memory served him right, he was on the right track. As he ran, he heard an orchestra of appalling noises; glass shattering, metal scraping, pipes clanging, broken machines sputtering, violent wailing all filled the red air of the agricultural floor. Michael turned the corner to the elevator and found a harrowing discovery. The elevator had stopped on this floor and the inside was completely trashed. Even worse, most of the team sent down sat lifeless scattered across the hall. Michael was shocked to see this and rushed over to one of the bodies. Grief had stricken the young boy as he carefully examined the man in the vault issued radiation suit. The helmet visor had been smashed in and a large piece of jagged metal pierced the mans left eye and the entire right side had been mauled to oblivion. Michael looked to another and they appeared to had been beaten to death and another was impaled with a screwdriver. Just then, a horrible thought came to the Prodigy.

"The G.E.C.K.!" Michael exclaimed. He shot up and frantically searched for the metallic briefcase. He searched through the debris and even under some of the bodies, but the device was no where to be seen. Michael began to panic as horrible thoughts crossed his mind. He looked back and counted the bodies. Four came down here, but Michael counted only three. Someone survived and they might have the G.E.C.K. He looked to the floor and saw a trail of fresh blood littered the metallic tiles all the way down the corridor. Michael heard footsteps rapidly approaching and hauled it out of there, following the trail of blood. Becker took a left down a four-way hallway, but halted in his tracks as he encountered three violent vault dwellers wearing torn utility jumpsuits. These must have been some of the maintenance crew on the floor below. One of the tainted workers spotted the Prodigy and let out a guttural scream at the boy. The other two shot their attention and all charged at Michael with horrid intent. Michael was quick to dodge the first pugnacious dweller, but took a blow from the second across the cheek. Michael tumbled to the floor and the one who decked the boy tried to jump onto him, but Michael was quick with his revolver and shot a round into the assailants right shoulder. The dweller squealed in pain and the third flung him out the way to attack Michael, but the boy sprung to his feet and tackled the oncoming dweller. The boy threw a haymaker into the dweller before being grabbed by one the aggressors behind him. Michael slammed the back of his head into the dweller, releasing him. He spun around and pistol whipped the maintenance worker, knocking him out cold. The boy whipped around and fired his revolver into the leg of the third dweller on the floor. The worker screamed in pain and grabbed onto its leg, rendering him out of the fight. Just then, the first dweller attacked Michael from the back, slamming the young boy into the wall and dropping his revolver. The struggle sent the gun sliding down the hall with a kick. The tainted worker held Michaels right arm against the wall and, like a vicious dog, bit into the back of the boys neck. The Prodigy screamed in pain as the dweller tried desperately to rip out Michaels flesh with its teeth as the boy could feel the workers tongue lick the blood gushing from his nape. Not only could he feel the blood gushing, the teeth sunk into his neck, and the tongue lick any drop of blood it could; Michael could feel his anger flair inside him.

"Get off!" The Prodigy yelled and swung his left arm up and behind him, hitting the dweller with the PIP-Boy mounted to his forearm. The Prodigy swung again and he could feel the teeth loosen from his neck. He swung one more time with all his might and hit the forehead of the worker with the device. The worker recoiled and let loose of the Prodigy. The boy whipped around and tackled the rabid man to the floor. The Prodigy wasted no time and wailed on the man with both fists. The boy did not let up and every time the man tried to fight back, the boy hit harder. The Prodigy raised his fist to land another blow, but stopped as he finally looked at the man. He recognized this man; he knows this man. This man is Richard Quinn, one of the maintenance workers of Vault 25. One of the maintenance workers who taught Michael the basics of mechanics when he was just a boy. He couldn't have been older than six. Michael sees the man, and now he sees what he did to him. The boy took his breath and stood up. He was covered in blood that he couldn't even tell if it was his own. Michael takes a final, dread filled look at Richard and his battered face and he pondered if this was the man he had become. All he's done since he's been back is hurt the people he tries so desperately to save. Michael wondered if he truly was the Prodigy of Vault 25.

Michael had a mission. He can't stop now. He trudged on and stepped over the men, but tumbled as his whole body felt weak. A soaring pain bolted from the back of his neck. He put his hand to wound and felt it gushing. He was losing blood and fast. He needed to stop the bleeding as soon as possible, otherwise he might not make it back up. His whole body was enveloped in agony; screaming at him. As Michael groaned and reared from his injuries, his vision slowly fading from him, he heard a skitting noise. He saw something slide into his vision; his revolver. Through the searing torment that raved from his neck, he looked up and saw that little voice in his head manifest looking back at him from down the hall. The two locked eyes as the world around them seemed to twist and fade away. Michael picked up his revolver and stood to his feet. His body was weak and all he could was stumble.

"Do you want to die?" The voice called out. Michael stumbled and held on to the back of his neck. The voice watched as Michael struggled and all it could do was stare at the body that had been so royally abused.

"That is all that will ever happen if you continue." The voice claimed as it turned away down a corridor. Michael trudged as he felt his body get heavier and heavier with every step he took. He followed the voice and turned down the same corridor. The voice stood at the end of the hallway again and watched, almost taunting the Prodigy.

"I have tried everything I can with you. I've tried agreeing with you, convincing you, fighting you, but you just keep pushing. If we weren't together on this, that would be admirable." The voice said as he peered at Michael push up against the wall for support.

"But we're not." The voice scorned as it turned down another corridor. Michael scraped himself across the wall as the light began to fade ever darker. He gathered the strength to pursue his other half and slogged his way down the other corridor where the voice had waited again.

"You won't win, Michael. You can't win. You're fighting for a crazy idea made up more than 200 years ago. You fight so man can be controlled. Those skeletons that litter the deserts were once controlled and they got blasted to oblivion. America was only 301 when the nukes fell. A mere blip in the face of eternity. But what about America? What about the NCR? The Legion, the Brotherhood, Bordertown? Do you think they'll still be around after 200 more years? 400? Do you want the men who pushed the big red button back in office? What about the corporations? You want them back? You fight for control. I offer freedom, true freedom. Freedom to be oneself and step away from the old world, but you would rather die for the people who stuck needles in you and put whatever ungodly concoction they could muster. Have I not been helpful? Have I given you no reason to trust me? Does the countless times I saved you mean nothing?" The voice argued as Michael felt weaker and weaker every step. Any light there was in this dim corridor was blinding and the surroundings became evermore distant. Michael could not take anymore and he crumbled to the tiles. He groaned in pain and blood seeped out of his body; he could not go on. The voice appeared next to Michael and crouched down to look the boy in the face.

"It appears as if I will have to save you one more time. Typical." The voice said before he vanished. Still bleeding, Michael felt a rush of adrenaline fill every fiber of his body. He shot up and winced in pain as his injury only got worse. He looked to where he last saw the voice and saw a barely lit sign above a metallic door reading: INFIRMARY. Of course, there was an infirmary on this floor in case of accidents with farming equipment. Michael, with all his strength, forced himself to stand and slammed the button next to the door. The metallic gate with the number 25 on it sputtered and slid up, opening to the infirmary. Michael clambered into the room and saw the sorry state the room was in. The lights were flickering, sheets littered the floor as well broken glass and surgical tools, cabinets were raided and destroyed. The place was in a horrid state, but just on the other side of the room Michael spotted a wall-mounted first aid kit. The boy staggered to the other side of room. He unlatched the lock to the first aid kit and some of its contents fell to the floor. Among them were a rag and some med-x, but nothing Michael could use to patch up his wound. All he could do was hold one of the rags to the bite in hopes of slowing the bleeding. As the boy tried to tend his wounds the best he could, he heard footsteps from behind him. He turned around to face his new opponent only to see them charging right at him. Michael dodged the oncoming assailant and they slammed into the wall behind the boy, causing the first aid kit to fall to the floor. Michael tried to get a good look at his attacker, but his vision was failing him by the second. All he could make out was it was a woman and she was in possession of a sharp object. Michael kicked the attacker into the corner and tried to make a run for the door, but the lady grabbed him by the leg and pulled him to the ground. Michael hit his head on the tiled floor, which only worsened his condition. The lady thrashed at the barely conscious Michael and the boy tried desperately to free himself, but he could barely keep his eyes open. The woman kneeled above the Prodigy and prepared to strike while could only watch and barely defend himself. The attacker plunged down, impaling Michael in the shoulder. The boy could feel the object pierce his skin and could tell it was a spike. A very thin spike. Just then, Michael began to feel his pain alleviate and his vision too was coming back. He finally got a look at his assailant and was stunned.

"Mom?" Michael softly spoke. It was his mother, Caroline, looking down at him with veins in her eyes. With his regained strength, Michael pushed his mother off of him, making her crash into one of the gurneys. The Prodigy quickly stood to his feet and yanked the object out of his shoulder. As he held it in his hand, he found it to be a stimpak. She, whether purposely or not, had saved his life. He looked back up and the two locked eyes. Michael looked at how disheveled and feral his mother had become; her vault suit was torn, her hair unkempt, the eyes that made her eyes red, her skin pale at paper, her mouth looking as if she is ready to froth. His mother, his birth giver, the very woman who brought him into this world, was not immune to the horrors of the chemical, but deep down, somewhere amongst that rage is his mother. Caroline growled at her son and lunged at him, but with his body recovering, Michael was quick to jump out of the way. She slammed her body into another gurney, allowing Michael a chance to fight back. He grabbed one of the fitted sheets and threw it over his mother. While she was distracted, he ran over and swiped up one of the rags from the first aid kit. He ran back out into the hallway and slammed the door shut behind him. He put in a code on the keypad and set the door into quarantine mode, making it so it can only be open from this side, locking his mother in.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I'll come back for you." Michael promised as he took one last look at infirmary and listened to his mother inside. He swore he could hear her crying. He checked his surroundings and saw a lit sign that read: SUPPLY CLOSET. He trudged over to the closet and opened the metallic door. Inside were two shelving units adjacent on both sides of the small closet with random bits of hardware and junk scattered about. Michael reached in and pulled out a toolbox. He opened the metal container and found a random assortment of screws, a ball-peen hammer, and a roll of duct tape. He took the roll of tape and stuck a strip with the rag onto the back of his neck, tending to the bite mark. He casted the toolbox aside and left the closet. When he entered the hallway, he heard a loud clicking noise, as if a large machine had been activated. Just then, the dim lights turned off and fluttered back on, fully illuminating the halls.

"The reactor." Michael realized and ran down the hallway. He could hear screaming all around him, probably from the dwellers downing here being blinded from the lights. Michael saw a staircase going down to his left and swiftly turned down them. He bolted down the stairs, almost falling down them. He had passed the maintenance floor and saw the entrance to the floor blocked up with random assortments of furniture and lockers, most likely from the beginning of the spread. The stairs continued down to the next, so Michael continued to rush down them. He made it to the reactor floor and it was in a sorry state. Exposed wired scattered the halls, metal perturbed from the walls, light fixtures were ripped from the ceiling. Michael couldn't focus on this. He raced down the corridors, seeing even more debris and broken machinery along the way. This place had been torn apart, but the vault still got its main power. As he ran, Michael eventually found a blood trail. A smeared, bloody handprint on the wall indicated which way the trail led. The boy followed the trail, running past even more damage. The trail led Michael to the main vault reactor. The door was open and Michael saw the missing fourth member of the team slumped on the ground next to the reactor console and next to him laid the Garden of Eden Creation Kit. Michael rushed over to the dweller in the radiation suit and saw that the suit had been damaged in various places and he had suffered grave injuries. The man turned his head to Michael and stared at him through his cracked visor.

"It's you." The man softly spoke. The man tried to sit up, but even that was painful.

"Stop. Don't move." Michael urged to the man. The man slumped back down and rested his head against the inside of his helmet. "I can find you a stimpak. There's bound to be a first aid kit on this floor."

"Don't. It's too late." The man gasped. He pointed to the reactors behind them. "I fixed the reactor, but I can't go on. You have to leave me."

"Come on. I won't let you die. Not like this." Michael argued, but the man grabbed the Prodigy by the arm and handed Michael the metallic briefcase.

"I can't go on, but you can. The password is 9-10-19-17. You have one shot. Make it count." The man uttered with his final breath. His body slumped against the foot of the console and his grip on Michael loosened. Michael took the device from his hands and stayed with him. The blue electricity emitting from the reactor lit the whole room as it fell silent. Another dweller lost in this infernal maze of 200 year old metal and wires. The vault felt colder.

"Tanner, report. Tanner, are you there?" Michael heard the sound of his fathers voice. He gazed over to the man and saw a device clipped to his radiation suit. Michael unclipped the device and discovered it to be a wireless transmitter radio. This was how they stayed in contact with the first floor. Michael hesitated and wondered if he should respond. "Tanner, are you there?" His father called again. Michael held the device to his mouth and pushed the button on the side.

"Dad." Michael uttered into the device. A pause broke out.

"Michael? Michael, is that you?" Adam asked. Michael hesitated for a brief second.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's me." Michael replied.

"What the hell are you doing down there? Get up here this instance." Adam ordered to his son. Michael hesitated again.

"I wish I could, Dad, but that's not possible." Michael said, pausing for a brief moment. "The team is dead. They were killed by the people down here." He announced. Adam didn't respond for a few seconds, but those few seconds felt like forever. The scientist finally managed to speak.

"We saw the lights up here flicker." Adam stated.

"Yeah. Tanner managed to fix the reactor. He had the G.E.C.K., now I have it." Michael said as he swallowed his spit. He held his head against the transmitter, his mind racing. He brought the radio back down to his mouth. "I found Mom." Michael paused, as well as his father.

"Was she?" Adam uttered.

"Yeah. Yeah, she was." Michael weakly spoke. "I locked her in the infirmary. The one in agriculture." The two hesitated and all the could be heard from the radio was light breathing from one another. "Dad, I'm the only one who can do this. I tried telling you that, but, now, I really am, and I don't even know if I'll make it out."

"Don't talk like that." Adam interjected.

"It's true. If I don't make it, tell them... tell them I was brave." Michael said through shaky breath. "Bonnie can get the car, and Dogmeat, I know she'll take care of them. Jenkins can get what he came for. Tell Nat that I love her and... I'm sorry."

"Son..." Adam tried to reach his only son.

"When you see that oxygen level drop you guys have to hit the switch. It's the only way." Michael ordered. "And, Dad?"

"Yes, Michael?" Adam softly responded.

"I love you, and I'm sorry." Michael made his peace. He left the transmitter next to the deceased Tanner and marched out of the reactor room. Michael tightened his fist on the handle of the metallic miracle machine he trudged through the Wasteland for. As he ran, memories of his time out there flooded his head. He remembered meeting Dogmeat, Bonnie, and Jenkins for the first time, he remembered the sounds and smells of desert, the NCR Ranger standing atop river bank, the albino deathclaw that guided him, the sound of the Highwayman's engine roaring to life, feeling the rain of Utah falling on his skin, the wonderous city of Arroyo, seeing the skyscrapers of Bordertown, and he remembers the music he first heard on the radio that called to him when he so desperately needed it. Michael ran and ran, hearing his boots hit the metallic ground. He saw a working elevator and he bolted for it. He ran into the lift swinging his gaze to the buttons. He slammed the down button and the doors slid close and he felt the elevator descend into the final level of the vault. Michael took one last breath before those doors opened, gripping onto the briefcase. The time was now.

The doors skimmed open and red fog flooded the elevator. This was the worst and most potent floor with the vaccine. Michael chugged out the elevator and could barely see down the hall with all the crimson mist. All he could see were the newly lit lights from the ceiling. He used those to guide him through this horrid environment. As he pushed through the air, he could feel his lungs burn and his throat wanting to close. Michael coughed up all he could to ensure his pipes wouldn't shut. The fog was so thick he couldn't even see the walls of the corridor. Eventually, he was completely engulf in a violent crimson. All he could see were the rectangular lights above him creating a trail of almost holy slabs guiding his way. He continued, but he felt as though he was walking on sand. He looked around him and he saw an infinite desert of red sand and sounds of distant gunfire and shouting surrounded him. To his right, he saw a large castle like structure in the distance, then he heard loud buzzing noises above him. He looked up and saw giant wasp-like creatures soar through the air advancing toward the castle. Riding the wasps were men in full plated armor. On the ground, Michael could see hundreds of carriages without horses ride toward the castle as well. He looked behind him and saw serpents the size of buses rage in the same direction. Through all of this, Michael still pushed on. Just then, he heard an engine behind him. He looked back and saw the Highwayman roll up beside him. Driving the car was that other half that haunted him. The two locked with each other.

"We all gotta go sometime." The voice shouted and sped along. Then, a bright flash hit the side of Michael. He shot over and saw a giant mushroom growing from inside the castle, destroying the structure as it grew. The mushroom grew to the size of a skyscraper and all the wasps fell from the sky like rain. The carriages crashed into the sands and the knights splattered to the earth. The great serpents too suffered as their skin melted. The mushroom grew ever larger, so Michael ran through the desert. As he ran, the visions began to fade and, without looking, collided with a steel door. He looked back and saw the hallway he had come from. He looked saw a sign on the wall that read: CONTAINMENT TANKS. Michael looked at the door and it didn't look like any other door in the upper levels of the vault; it was completely steel gray with a giant 25 engraved into it. The control panel to the door was also part of the wall instead of mounted to it. This level must be older than the rest of the vault. Michael pressed a button on the console and the door slid open. Michael walked into the room and found a ginormous room the size of a factory floor full of vat containers, most of which had burst. This room was more full of the vaccines fumes than anywhere in the vault, so much so that Michael could feel his eyes twinge.

"How much did they make?" Michael asked himself, absolutely shocked at the amount. Just then, he heard screaming outside. Multiple screams. Then, he heard what sounded like hundreds of people running getting closer. He slammed his hand on the console and slammed the door shut. He pressed a couple buttons until heard the sound of a locking mechanism. Just then, something hit the door. Then, he heard scratching and screaming from the other side. They had found him. Michael looked around, but he could see no other way out of this room. With no other choice, he went down onto the main floor. As he descended the metal stairs, he gazed upon the vats. There must have more than 20 vats and who knows if there are more rooms just like this one. Michael stepped down onto the main floor and heard a slosh sound. He looked down and saw a massive puddle of clear, red liquid on the floor. This was it: the vaccine. The very thing that's been flowing through Michaels veins for almost all of his life. Beyond the vats, Michael saw something. He rushed over it, finding a mounted console hardwired into the floor. This console looked old; Michael had never seen this kind of equipment. Michael swiped his hand on the console and saw a gust of dust sweep the air.

"No wonder the tanks burst. This equipment's older than anything I've ever seen." Michael said to himself. He continued further and found an off room with a glass window and a regular, metal door on hinges. Michael turned the knob and entered, finding himself in some old office. Inside was a wooden desk with some kind of terminal where the screen was separate from the computer, an old chair, various drawers and filing cabinets, and even some old posters featuring vault boy, an astronaut cat, an a rather American poster with a man in a suit proudly showing, some person in some kind of armor with horns surrounded by kids and a symbol with an E that Michael recognized. He looked to the Creation Kit and saw that it had the same symbol as the poster: an E with stars around it. Who ever occupied this office must have been with the same people who made this device. Out of curiosity, Michael dusted the old terminal on the desk and turned it on, hoping it could help him. The terminal turned on like normal, but then the vault-tec logo showed up on screen before it switched to an options list. However, there were no options. It appeared that all data entries were wiped from this computer. The only thing that seemed to remain was the the username of the last person to use this terminal: E-115.

"E-115?" Michael wondered. This was the same user that was in contact with the Overseer during Michaels injection. They must have used this computer to communicate with each other. Of course, this is a vault-tec computer. Even if the files were wiped from this terminal, all logs would still be filed in the main vault-tec main frame. But, that raises another question; the last messages sent were from E-115 stating that Blevins had locked them out, but why is the terminal still here if this was the one they used? Then, another question popped into Michaels head. The reactor was fixed, which means it would have undergo a reset, which would mean any and all appliances connected to the reactor would switch off, including locking mechanisms to any door. Just then, the screaming and clanging stopped from the hallway upstairs. Michael left the office with the Creation Kit in hand to investigate. From the main floor, he looked up the steel door above and one question raced across his mind: who is on the other side of that door?

Suddenly, a sizzling noise came from the door and a large, green blotch burned in the center of the door. Plasma, that stuff can eat through metal. Who ever they are, they got some serious equipment. Michael ran behind one of the vats to hide. The door melted and in came two men in strange uniforms and another in some advanced black-coated power armor suit that almost looked like a demon, just like the one on the poster. They were all wielding some advanced plasma weaponry and seemed to be hyper aggressive probably due to the polluted air, but they seemed different; more focused. Michael checked the ammo left in his revolver and all he had left were two bullets. He could probably take out the two regulars, but the guy in the armor will be a nightmare to crack. He looked back and saw the two men in uniform stepping down the stairs with the armored guy right behind him. One one them wore a long trench coat and seemed to order them with hand signals. The man in armor stayed near the stairs while they search the room. Michael pulled himself back.

"Alright. Three guys, one heavily armored and heavy equipment. We can take them. I know we can." Michael said, expecting something. "Come on, I kind of need you right now." The boy smacked himself across the face. "Come on, now's not the time for this." One of the men was getting closer. "You wanna live? Now's the time for that survival instinct." Nothing. The voice was not showing up. The man got closer and closer. "Fine! I'll do it, you crybaby." Michael growled through gritted teeth. Michael reached out and grabbed the man in uniform, pulling him in. The boy tried to hold the man down, but the other gentleman overpowered the Prodigy. The man threw Michael to the ground, revealing him to the others. The boy quickly pulled his revolver and shot the uniformed man right between the eyes, killing him, but narrowing himself down to a single bullet. The man slumped over and fell onto the Creation Kit, entrapping it. The armored soldier aimed a large two-handed gun with three large prongs on the barrel at the boy and fired plasma rapidly. Michael was able to avoid most of them, but some came dangerously close. One shot hit the dead soldier and vaporized the right side of his upper torso and revealed the corner of the metal briefcase. Michael clambered to the adjacent vats for cover, but was grabbed by the man in the black and beige coat. The man grabbed Michael by the collar and stared into his soul.

"It's you." The man hissed. He hoisted Michael up, almost proudly. "My perfect soldier." Michael grabbed the mans collar and kicked himself free from his grasp, but he had grabbed something from the mans neck. It was a pair of dog tags. Michael took a brief look at them and they read that all too familiar name: E-115. Michael rushed back to his previous position as the armored soldier fired more plasma rounds. When he made it back, Michael pushed the charred corpse off the G.E.C.K. and the gun the man had on him. The gun was an old fashioned Wattz 1000 Laser Pistol complete with a hand guard. Michael fired at the man in the trench coat, forcing him into cover. The armored brute kept firing his plasma weapon in Michaels direction, and the boy could hear the sizzle of the plasma slowly eating away at the metal of the vat on the other side. He could hear the other guy in the coat take every step toward him. If he moved, the guy in the coat would catch him. If he didn't, he would be turned to green goop. Michael thought of everything, but he was horribly outgunned and outmanned, but he is not outsmarted.

"You're a idiot, Michael." The boy said to himself. "You're a real fool, a persistent fool, but you're the fool of Vault 25. You're not the perfect soldier, you're the perfect idiot." Michael knelt to the floor. "The perfect idiot with a genetically modified brain. We do this now, smart guy!" Michael picked up the metallic briefcase and planted it on the floor in front of him. Michael thought for one more second and finally made his decision. He heard the two men advancing as the world itself seemed to shrink ever closer. Michael took one last deep breath and opened the Garden of Eden Creation Kit. Michael had looked into it before, but he never took the time to admire just how delicate this wonderous piece of machinery really was. It all seemed so precise that even the slightest adjustment could render the whole thing useless. He wished he had the chance to really examine it. As the world shrank more and more and time itself seemed to be nonexistent, Michael put his hand to the keypad.

9

Thoughts of his adventures flooded his mind again.

10

He remembers friends that helped him through these times and knew that he held them dear.

19

He thought about his family. What will happen to them? When this thing goes off, there's no telling what will happen. Will everything really go back to normal? Will everything change? No.

97

We were never normal. We will never change.

The device hissed to life and all the inner contraptions moved, sparked, and hummed in a beautiful orchestra, like an instrumental engine. The lights flickered and blipped as brightly as the New Vegas strip. Michael, for a brief moment, finally understood that he wasn't looking at some miracle machine; he was looking at the miracle itself, and miracles are hot. Really hot. Scolding hot. Michael ripped his hands off the device and was brought back to reality. One quick look and he could tell the device was overheating. He scanned his eyes around for something and saw that it had no coolant system whatsoever. This thing was going to blow. Michael shot back to his feet and kicked the device out into the open. The briefcase skidded to the middle of the room, which distracted both assailants for a brief moment. Michael took this opportunity to run. He bolted out of cover and hauled it to the side office. The armored devil took shots at him and the trench coat madman chased after him. Michael sprinted into the office, slammed the door shut and barricaded it with a filing cabinet. The man in the coat started pounding on the door and screaming at the boy inside. Michael slid under the desk and hid with the old duck and cover method. As the man outside continued screaming, Michael could only brace himself for what was to come. Then, as if God himself had come down and opened the gates of Heaven, a blinding light erupted from the G.E.C.K. and all sound had been silenced. All color from the world had been erased and all that could be seen were shadows. Nothing could be said as it wouldn't be heard. Then, the ringing started. Agonizing ringing, as if the bells of Hell had been struck by mighty claws. Michael could feel his skull shiver from the sound. He swore he was screaming, but he couldn't hear it. When the ringing ceased, Michael could his insides. He could hear blood course through his veins as his heart pumped a mile a minute. He could hear his lungs expand and deflate with every breath. He could hear the acid in his stomach bubble and his fingernails grow by the millisecond. Michael could hear and feel everything that made him human. Then, just as he felt his body work as a symphony, it stopped. The boy slumped his head and laid face down on the tiled floor of the office. He heard no noises, nor could he see no shadows. There was nothing, and, in nothing, is where Michael tends to go in these situations. He found himself back in that void in his mind.

"Hello? Voice? Are you here?" Michael called out, but no answer. Even in the darkest corner of his subconscious, that voice that had nagged him for so long wouldn't show. Had it truly abandoned him? For once in his life, his mind had never truly felt more empty. Michael stood in that empty space for what felt like an eternity, but could've been a few minutes. Time really has no hold here. Michael let his mind wander for a bit and, amongst the darkness, he heard a loud. blaring noise. He looked to his right and saw the entrance to Vault 25 closing with himself standing in front of it. His mind was replaying a memory: the very moment Michael left the vault. The vault door slammed shut as the memory of Michael watched.

"Damn." The memory said, leaning against the vault door and slumping to the ground. Michael remembered this all too well. He wandered over to the memory and sat down next to the other him. Michaels gaze fell upon his other self and he could see that scared boy without a clue in his head. Michael wiped his eyes and groaned as he too slumped against the door. He looked down and saw that he still had his revolver with him. He opened the cylinder and saw that he still had one bullet.

"Wanna share it?" Michael awkwardly chuckled to his memory, but he received no response. Not like he was going to.

"What am I gonna do?" The memory of Michael sighed as he rested his head against the vault door.

"What're you gonna do? I'll tell you. I am what you're gonna do." Michael berated, feeling a hint of resentment at that question. "You know, that's you're problem. You're always asking 'Why me? Why me?' Go outside and you'll stop asking that real quick." Michael stared at the memory of that young boy just leaving his home to venture out into the world. "What the Hell happened?" Michael asked. Just then, the other Michaels PIP-Boy caught a signal.

"Good morning all you diggers of dirt. My name is Long John DiVagria and you're listening to Pilgrim Radio, a station for those traveling for miles." The radio played on the PIP-Boy.

"Oh yeah. DiVagria." Michael groaned as he remembered. Michael didn't bother listening to the rest. Next thing he knew, that damn song played: Move It On Over by Hank Williams. Michael listened to the song as the other him so valiantly stood up and marched out of the cave into the Wasteland. "There goes the hero of Vault 25." Michael scoffed as he was left alone in this dingy cave somewhere in his mind. Michael blinked and another memory played out in front of him. Michael found himself in his bedroom in the vault. It was pitch black and all that the boy could really see was the memory of him waking up on his desk with the green light from the PIP-Boy illuminating his face. The memory woke up and took in his surroundings.

"Strange. Did the fuse box blow?" The memory echoed. It stood up from its chair, picked up the PIP-Boy on the desk. He turned on the flashlight and left the room. Michael waited for the other to leaves before turning on his PIP-Boy light and stood in the center of the room. It was his room alright; covered head to toe in random assortment of scrap and books. Michael sighed as he looked up to the walls and saw a vault-tec poster, but he felt distain for the poster that hung in his room. He sauntered over to his bed, currently covered in random junk. Becker pulled the blanket off the mattress, yanking the scrap and books off the bed and scattering across the floor without a care in the world. He threw the blanket back onto the bed and let himself fall onto the bunk. His head hit the pillow and he groaned in comfort. He wonders how many times he had actually used his bed for its purpose and not a secondary desk. He let himself sink into the bed for the first time in God knows how long. The last time he had any kind of real sleep was in the back of the Highwayman when he was in California, or that time he was knocked out from the plane crash. Sleep is sleep. He sat that for awhile, reminiscing on the events that brought him here. Was he dead? Did the Creation Kit rip him apart atom by atom and he simply ceased to be? If that's the case, then those bastards in uniform definitely got hit. He heard the distant blaring of the vault alarm echo throughout the vault. Strangely, Michael felt comforted by this. He felt eyes get heavy and his thoughts began to drift away. Soon, the blaring became beeping and Michael found solace in the sounds around him. He took a deep breath, coming to terms with his situation. However, when he tried to exhale, he found that he couldn't. He tried to breathe again, but he struggled. He felt as though he was choking. Michael shot his eyes and found himself on a bed with machines hooked into him. There was a tube in his mouth and he could feel it all the way down his esophagus. He pulled the tube out of his throat and started coughing. It was an endotracheal tube, a breathing tube, connected to a ventilator. Surrounding Michael was a heart monitor, an iv drip, an overhead lamp, and a medical table with assortments of medical tools. He was in a vault hospital room with two chairs and a Radiation King tv playing The Man From Deadhorse, an old world film starring that guy from A Man and His Dog. He removed all manner of medical equipment on or lodged into his body and tried to stand up, but his legs were no stronger than gelatin. Michael held onto the bedframe to keep himself up. His mouth was very dry and he was clearly dehydrated. Michael stumbled to the door and pressed the panel button. The door slid open and he staggered into the hallway. He was still in Vault 25 by the looks of things. He walked down the hallway and saw multiple rooms in the corridor with windows next to the doors. Inside were more people, all of which seemed to be recovering from various injuries. Michael kept walking and eventually found a drinking fountain. He trudged over to it and swallowed its cold contents with the press of a button. After refreshing himself, Michael looked at himself. He was no longer in his torn up vault suit, but rather a blue hospital gown. He continued walking down the halls and eventually came across a couple men and women making repairs to the walls, pipes, floors, lights, the whole corridor was under maintenance. Michael was feeling weak again and limped toward the workers. One of the workers, who was bolting down a wall panel, spotted Michael. She dropped her tools and rushed over to the boy before he collapsed to the ground.

"It's okay. Everything's okay." The woman comforted. She threw Michaels arm over her shoulder and supported him. Another worker rushed over and helped Michael as well. All eyes fell onto the boy as he was carried out. The two workers brought Michael back to his hospital room and laid him on the bed. One of the workers pressed a red button above Michaels bed, calling the doctor.

"Thank you." Michael muttered.

"No. Thank you." One of the workers said. The two left the Prodigy to his room and one of the vault doctors came soon after.

"I see someone's back on their feet." The doctor said, pulling up Michaels clipboard. "I don't know what happened down there, but you took one hell of a pummeling."

"How long have I been out?" Michael asked.

"Two days now." The doctor said as she flipped through the clipboard. Two days unconscious. Oddly, Michael wasn't surprised. It would be lying to say this hasn't happened before.

"Did it work? Did the plan work?" Michael asked. The doctor looked away from the clipboard, fixing her gaze onto the boy that had done the ultimate trial.

"Yes, it worked." The doctor said with a soft smile. Michael dropped his head on the pillow, relief washing over him like an ocean. It worked. That crazy ass plan worked. Whatever God was out, Michael was thanking them with every prayer that came to his mind. Michael had done it. He really did it. For the first time in awhile, the world seemed a little brighter. "You had everyone quite worried. Your family especially. Even those two you brought in here." The doctor said. Michael opened his eyes after hearing what she said.

"What about them? Are they alright?" Michael asked, worried for his friends. The doctor put her hand on his shoulder, easing Michael back down into the bed.

"They're fine. Everyone is safe." She said, calming the boy down. "You're a hero, Michael James Becker." The doctor walked over to the corner of the room where a locker was. She put in a combination and opened the container, revealing Michaels belongings. "I believe these are yours." Just then, a buzzing noise came from above Michaels bed. It was a light on the wall indicated another patient was calling the doctor. "I need to go, so just get dressed when you're ready." The doctor said before leaving the room to attend to another patient. Michael sat in bed for a bit, pondering on things. He eventually found the strength to push himself out of bed and saunter over to his possessions in the locker. Inside were a brand new sealed Vault 25 jumpsuit to replace his old one, his toolkit, his bottlecaps, his bandana, and the key to the Highwayman, but none of his armor or weapons were with his possessions, not even the PIP-Boy. The Overseer most likely took it back when he was out.

"Blevins." Michael groaned. He removed the night gown and saw the scars that laced his body: bullet wounds, some bruising here and there, a large scar on his leg from where that piece of debris lodged itself, but he also saw that he gained a bit of muscle. Not a whole lot, but it made him feel good. Michael grabbed the vault suit and tore off the seal. He put on a t-shirt, under wear, and socks before he examined the vault suit itself. It was pristine with its royal blue finish with gold lining and that beautiful 25 on the back. He put the new suit on, one leg at a time. He zipped up vault suit and felt proud to wear it once again, but something didn't feel right. Michael looked at himself and wondered would could have possibly been wrong. That's when he got it. He removed the right bracer and rolled up his sleeve, proudly displaying his bear claw arm tattoo. Michael grabbed his bandana and tied it around his head again, holding back his long hair. He could really use a trim when the barber is open again. He took a final breath and left the hospital room. He walked through the halls again and found an elevator. There was a plaque next to it indicating what floor he was on. Michael was on floor 6. Michael stepped into the elevator and decided to go to the atrium on the first floor. The elevator ascended and Michael whistled the song Maybe by the Ink Spots as he waited. The lift stopped at the first floor and the doors opened into a two-way corridor. Michael traversed the corridor toward the atrium. With the repairs done to the lower floors and reactor, the vault was starting to look like its old self again. Michael walked past one of the indoor diners. Through the window, Michael saw other residents inside making significant repairs, communing with one another, and even making food for each other. As he walked past the window, someone must've seen him inside because all eyes fell onto the boy again. Soft smiles were on their faces. As Michael stepped out of eyeshot, one for the dwellers pursued him from the diner with a plate in their hand.

"Hey, Michael! Wait up!" The dweller called out. Michael stopped and turned back. It was one of his classmates.

"Camron! What's up, man?" Michael said, happy to see someone he knows for sure.

"Hey. I just wanted to thank you. My Dad was down there. I was really scared, so was Mom. I thought I would never see him again, but they brought him up after what you saved everyone. I know we didn't really hang out, but do you want my pie?" Camron frantically thanked the Prodigy. He held up the plate to Michael and it was a fresh slice of pie with whip cream.

"No. No, thank you." Michael politely declined. "Say, do you know where my family is?"

"Oh sure, they're in atrium. Your Dad's looking after your Mom and your sister is keeping the peace." Camron answered.

"Thanks. I better go to them. I'll see you around." Michael said as he stepped away.

"Oh. Sure, man. I'll see you in class. If we have class." Camron called out. Michael continued down the corridors and made it to the atrium. He stepped into the court and found it full of gurney beds, almost all of which had a recovering dweller from downstairs or suffered an injury. Looking after the recovering were a slew of volunteer medical staff and religious folk, even the vault priest was looking after them. Michael scanned the room, feeling a great sorrow for those that suffered. Michael searched and searched and his eyes eventually fell upon familiar faces. It was his family. His mother was recovering on one of the gurney beds while his sister and father looked after her. Michael, full of relief and joy, hurried over to his family. The first was to spot the Prodigy was his mother.

"Michael!" Caroline called out. The family turned their attention to the boy and all of them were overjoyed to see their missing member. Michael rushed into his mothers arms and the two held onto each other. "My boy. My precious boy. We were so scared. When they found you, they said you were barely alive. I couldn't live if you didn't." Caroline softly spoke to her only son. Nat and Adam soon joined in the embrace. When all of them were together, the world and its problems just seemed to fade away and all that mattered was each other. They were a family again. Adam pulled his family closer.

"I swear to you all, I will do everything to prevent this from happening again. The Becker family will never be separated like this ever again." Adam promised to his family. Just then, Michael felt something wiggle under his arm. It was his faithful mutt, Dogmeat. The dog ran amok and whined, bursting with joy for its best friend. The dog showered the boy with licks and ran all around him.

"Hey, boy." Michael said to the dog. The family welcomed the dog in with open arms after watching it think the world of Michael.

"He's certainly a rowdy one when he's happy, but he's been worried about you ever since you were brought back up." Adam said. "It took three of us to yank him off you when you were in that bed."

"Why was I on floor 6 anyway? Shouldn't I have been brought here?" Michael asked. Adam stood up and ushered his son to him.

"You should see this. We'll be right back." Adam said, having to rip Michael from the embrace of his wife. The dog followed close behind.

"What's going on? And what happened to the rest of my stuff?" Michael asked.

"Look, I don't want your mother to find out about this, so this is only between me and you. As for your belongings, they were taken to the new armory the Overseer had issued. We even have that armor you had stored in that vehicle outside brought in." Adam whispered as he brought Michael to the medical wing to the side. On the desk of the lab was two charred, rectangular boxes with scattered electronics that were blasted to nothing but useless, scorched junk. It was the Garden of Eden Creation Kit, or what was left of it.

"The G.E.C.K.?" Michael looked to the once great device he had walked through Hell for. He felt a bit of grief in the loss of such a machine, but knew it had to be done.

"We found it downstairs. It completely transformed the environment around it, killing off the vaccine and all other matter around it." Adam explained.

"So, we did it? That's great!" Michael said, but Adam's demeanor was not glad.

"Yes. We did it, son." Adam assured as he put his hand on Michaels shoulder. The Prodigy stared at the destroyed G.E.C.K., feeling as if something was not right.

"You sure, Dad?" Michael asked, feeling unconvinced. His father looked to his son, but it didn't seem like he was really looking at Michael. The scientist threw his gaze over to the dog behind them.

"You know what? You should probably go look for those friends of yours. They've been worried for you as well." Adam suggested.

"Yeah. Where are they?" Michael asked.

"They're with security. By the vault door." He ushered Michael out of the medical wing. "And remember: we love you." He said as he went back to Mom. He was acting strange, but Michael didn't want to look into it right now. He went to go see his friends with Dogmeat walking in front of him. He walked down the hall and took in the new air of Vault 25. Now all that they needed to be worried about was if the background radiation wasn't too bad and they could fix that. Michael arrived at security, but found that his companions were standing by the vault door with one of the security team by the console. They were both carrying two bags, Jenkins being significantly larger, almost the size of the power armor he wore. He approached the two.

"Hey guys." Michael called to them. The two turned around to see their vault boy.

"Mikey!" Bonnie exclaimed. Both of the put their bags down. Bonnies bag rattled, while Jenkins' dropped with a mighty clang.

"It's good to see you back on your feet, soldier. How're you feeling?" Jenkins asked, his voice transmitted through his helmet.

"I'm fine. What's going on? What's with the bags." Becker questioned. Bonnie took a remorseful sign, knelt down to the boys level and put her hand on his shoulder.

"Mikey, Jenkins and I have been talking." Bonnie looked into Michaels face and tried to find the right words. "We have decided that it would be best if we left."

"What? Why? You guys helped saved the vault. You're more than welcomed here." Michael declared. "And you guys were gonna leave without telling me?"

"We thought it best if we left before you knew." Jenkins said. "It would've made it easier."

"Made what easier?" Michael asked. Bonnie looked into Michaels eyes and could tell he was hurting.

"It would be easier for you think we left you and not come looking for us. It would hurt at first, but you'd be fine after awhile." Bonnie sheepishly answered.

"What're you guys even taking?" Michael interrogated.

"I have my duties to the Brotherhood and I must uphold them. I am taking that suit of power armor that soldier was wearing down there with you. I've never seen anything like that." Jenkins answered.

"I've been given a bag of bottlecaps. You guys have a whole lot backed up over the years." Bonnie said.

"So, that's it? You're just gonna take your prizes and leave?" Michael asked, feeling crossed.

"It's not like that." Bonnie interjected. She sighed and looked into the boys eyes. "Mikey, the Wasteland is a dangerous place, but it can be very addicting once you get out there. I know you want us to stay, but we can't. Jenkins has to go home to his Brotherhood. As for me, the truth is I could've stayed on the East Coast and had been safe, but I just couldn't do it. I enjoy the freedom I have and, even for all its troubles, I'm used to this world. I grew up in it, but you didn't. You're actually one of the good ones and you shouldn't have to starve, fight, or eat God knows what. You have a home here and a loving family, a pleasure so few of us have. You went out of your way to save the only place you call home. You, a fifteen year old, braved the Wasteland and came back. It reminded me of when I was young. You shouldn't have to suffer anymore, so we didn't want to tell you because its easier to hate us and not come looking for us." Bonnie stood up and picked up her bag. The security officer punched in the code and began the mechanism to open the vault door. Even though the door alarm was blaring, everything else around the trio felt silent.

"But I don't want to hate you guys. You guys helped me so much. You're like family to me." Michael pleaded. A warm smile grew on Bonnies face.

"Oh, Mikey." She said, feeling a warm feeling inside her heart. "Here. Let's trade." She untied Michaels bandana, put her desperado hat on his head, and tied the bandana around her head. The two looked at each other and smiled. Michael then reached into his tool bag.

"Here. Take this." Michael said, handing Bonnie the key to the Highwayman. "I won't be needing it anymore. I'll be fine here." Bonnie could feel her eyes start to water and she pulled Michael into a hug. "I'll miss you, my little vault dweller." She let go of the boy and Jenkins approached.

"You have shown a lot out there, Becker; courage, honor, discipline, bravery. If it weren't for you, this mission would have failed a long time ago. I am honored to have shared this experience with you." Jenkins put his fist to his chest. "You would make a fine addition to the Brotherhood of Steel." Jenkins congratulated. The power armored man looked down to the boy. "I hope you have a very good life, Michael." The two picked up their bags and walked the other way. As they left the vault, they couldn't help but look back. They looked to the Prodigy and his dog one last time. As the door slid shut, they all waved goodbye as this would be the last chance they have. They won't have each other, but they will have the memories and experiences they shared. They will always have that. The door slid into frame and the locking mechanism sprang with sounds of the latches slamming into place. As of this moment, the door would remain shut. The world had been disconnected from the safe world of Vault 25. A life underground.

The quintet of travelers had been walking for miles as the old man continued telling the story. The hot sun beating over them as they kicked up sand.

"How much longer? We've been walking for days." Jr. said, exhausted from the trip.

"Be patient, child. Not much further now." The old man assured.

"Good. I'm getting tired of hearing about Becker and his traveling band." Rodger snarked.

"I like it." Kelly interjected.

"No one asked you, raider." Jr. barked.

"Jesus. Lighten up, fresh face. I'm not scalping you in your sleep." Kelly shot back.

"You guys do that?" Jr. shivered.

"Enough you two. If anyone's tired, it's me." Courtney silenced them. "How close are we anyway, old timer?" The old man stopped in place and looked back at the group.

"We are here." The old man said. The mercenaries and raider looked ahead and saw a town with a large wooden sign out front. They had reached the town of Danbury.

"Fucking finally. I can use a drink." Rodger said. They all walked into the town and were happy to finally get a moments rest and paid. However, things seems a bit off. There were no people in the street and some of the buildings were boarded, dilapidated, or stripped. The whole town looked abandoned.

"So, what about the rest of our pay? We got you here." Courtney asked the old, blind man, but he did not respond, nor did he even turn to them.

"Hey, man, we did the job. We'd like to get paid now." Rodger butted in. The old man turned around.

"There is no money. I lied." The old man blurted out. "I have led you all here in hopes of employment, in which you will be compensated." The group looked at each other and back to the old man standing in the middle of town.

"So, we're not getting paid?" Rodger asked, a feeling of anger sweeping all their souls.

"Currently, no. However, with the employment I am offering you, you all will-" The old man tried to explain, but was cut off by the angry Rodger.

"No no no. Fuck that. We hauled your sorry ass here as promised, and we expect the rest of the pay that was promised." The mercenary said. All of the mercenaries were enraged by the lack of a payoff and pulled out their guns as the raider watched. Rodger aimed his gun at the old man. "You give what we're owed or we will drop you dead, you walking corpse!" Rodger demanded, but the old man was unflinching.

"I can give you eighty-four reason's why I shouldn't give even a sliver of payment, you hot-headed, dust-ridden buffoon. I don't even need to see you and I can already tell a starving child has more brawn than you." The old man stood his ground.

"Oh, that is it! Waste this piece of shi-" Rodger tried to speak, but a large bang had echoed the abandoned town and blood splurged from Rodgers skull as it shot back. Someone had shot the mercenary dead. The remaining three were stunned from watching their friends brains shoot out the back of his head. Just then, like an infestation of cockroaches, men clad in metal and leather armor wielding guns, knives, and high-grade explosives swarmed out of the buildings. They came out of doors, windows, rooftops, some were even hiding under the floorboards, surrounding the remaining three. With all guns pointed at them, the two mercenaries and raider quietly surrendered their weapons and put their hands up as to not be killed by these men.

"Eighty-four. All armed, trained, and ready for combat." The old man said, walking over the now dead Rodger as a puddle of blood soaked the sand under him. "I was hoping it would be eighty-eighty, but I suppose I can settle for eighty-seven. Poetic, is it not?"

"What do you want with us?' Jr. piped up.

"I have already explained that. I want your further employment. I want you to join my hunters for we have a prey to catch." The old man said, slowly walking past the trio. "A prey who once thought himself a hunter." Silence filled the air as the old man faced away from them.

"Who?" Courtney broke the silence. "What's the job?" The old man bit his tongue for a moment. Even with his vision lost, he can still the dunes of the desert, the burnt pillars that once were mighty trees, the sprawling cities full of all manners of life, the great distances that separated them from the world, but, most of all, he saw him. The man who had taken everything from him and burned it to the ground. Even if they were miles away, he knew that man was looking back at him. His one true enemy. The old man turned back and, in his raspy, hate-filled voice, he thundered the words:

"To kill Michael Becker."