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BLIND BETRAYAL: PT. 1

2290
The Commonwealth sky was a soft violet as the sun rose over the horizon. The air was humid and chilly; the sun hadn’t had time yet to warm up the Wasteland.
There was only an intermittent disturbance to the silence of the morning. Distant gunfight, or something crumbling after centuries of decay, or some freakish mutated animal screaming out, whether for pain or love.Emil was walking along one of the old streets of Medford, long shattered and overgrown in the years after the Great War. As much despair as there was to be seen from the state of the world, the destruction it had gone through, he still appreciated every morning that he got to see. Life found its way.It was a lull like this where Emil could forget the task at hand. And for the time being, he had. The Paladin was walking along a long un-intersected segment of road, so he didn’t need to check his map or remind himself where he was going. He was spending his time looking at the way the sky changed colors as the sun rose higher, listening to the Wasteland, and feeling the cold, damp morning air against his face.A little voice was nagging at the corner of his mind, along the lines of, you shouldn’t be letting your thoughts wander, you should be paying attention to your surroundings, but he was willfully ignoring it. Half of it was, honestly, that he was appreciating the morning - it was pleasant and mostly-quiet and he couldn’t see or hear any immediate threats. The other half was avoiding the variety of scenarios that wanted to play out in his head about the task ahead of him.Emil went along like this for a while, silently traversing the overgrown road and avoiding his thoughts.Inevitably, he came across an intersecting road, and had to pull up his map to double-check his destination. With reproach, he realized he needed to turn down this road and then head down a side-path to get to his destination: Listening Post Bravo.With his attention refocused, Emil started running back through the list of events that brought him here. They kept looping in his head, inescapably baffling.The Brotherhood launched an attack on the Institute… and Danse had uncovered a list of synths that he was on. After turning in the information, Danse vanished from Boston Airport. Elder Maxson called Emil in to a private meeting and ordered him to execute Danse for the revelation that he was a synth.Emil had a hatred festering for Maxson as a consequence - Maxson was younger than Emil, and Emil had been loyal to the Brotherhood much longer, and there was no denying Emil’s love for Danse. It was downright cruel for Maxson to order him to kill Danse. Was he testing Emil’s loyalty? If so, Emil had decided long ago that the people he cared about would be worth more than the values of the Brotherhood.Alongside these thoughts was the awareness of Danse’s loyalty to the Brotherhood. As much as Emil didn’t want to acknowledge it, there was a massive possibility that Danse had already killed himself for being a synth. The black-haired man could only hope that wasn’t the case.Emil was, internally, only getting more agitated now that his thoughts were back to the conflict at hand. Not too long ago he was simply walking along and enjoying the day and the life he was living. Now he was wrestling with his disobedience to the Brotherhood, the fear of Danse’s death, and the worry about what was yet to happen.Soon enough, Emil approached the dirt side-road that Listening Post Bravo was posted at the end of. Anxiety and fear were bubbling up inside of him ever more aggressively, beginning to interfere with and break apart the cohesion of his thoughts. He felt like his mind was the boiling surface of a pot, and every thought that tried to take stage was one of the hundreds of bubbles coming up and popping. He couldn’t even get a full, cohesive sentence through his brain.Emil's eyebrows furrowed with upset as he tried to focus on the world around him and block out the agitated, babbling thoughts in his mind. The dirt road was rougher, and more difficult to trod. It had rained only a couple of days prior, and there were dips in the dirt that still held water and kept the area muddy. It didn't help that the path was cut down through a hill; the runoff from the storm had also accumulated down here.Eventually, the Brotherhood soldier could see the front of Listening Post Bravo. The building faced south-east, so the rising sun was shining directly onto it - and onto Danse, who was sitting on the roof, legs dangling over the side. The synthetic man was facing towards Emil - probably also looking at the sunrise - and seemed to be deliberately avoiding eye contact.

Danse sat on top of the short building of Listening Post Bravo, staring into the sky as he got lost in his thoughts. His stomach kept turning, cycling between anger, anxiety, fear, and confusion. Each emotion was competing to take over the most, but none were able to.He was angry to know that his life was a lie. He was angry that he now had to question how much of his life was actually lived. He was anxious about what the future held. He was afraid of living, he was afraid of himself, he was afraid of the consequences if something like the Broken Mask happened with him. He was confused by why and how he was feeling such human emotions when everything he knew and believed was that synths were fundamentally not human, and incapable of those feelings.Everything Danse thought he knew, and everything that he believed in, was suddenly being thrown into question and put at risk. No, not risk - it was gone. He was a synth, and the Brotherhood would never openly welcome a synth. It was a miracle - or maybe a curse - that his synthetic nature had gone undetected for so long. If Knight-Captain Cade had discovered he was a synth sooner, maybe he would have gotten the mercy of dying then.The scorned ex-Paladin sat atop Listening Post Bravo for a long time. Danse was half-unaware of his surroundings, entrenched in his thoughts, and did not notice Emil approaching up the dirt path. By all means, there should have been no way for Danse to miss him - his black hair and uniform were a stark contrast to the discolored, irradiated grass, and was approaching from the same direction that Danse was facing.Only when Emil got closer did Danse finally snap out of his thoughts and become aware of his presence. Maybe it was the fact that he was in focus now, maybe one of his footsteps was louder than the others, maybe Danse had simply reached the end of his thoughts. He wasn't sure what, but he was suddenly acutely aware of Emil standing just a couple of yards in front of him, staring up at him.When Danse finally looked down, at Emil, he was hit with a variety of feelings - depression, regret, remorse. The expression on Emil's face felt worse than death, for Danse. The younger Paladin had his eyebrows just barely furrowed, lips curling down just so, and the sadness emanating from him was unmistakable. The potency of it hurt Danse's heart - he loved Emil, and Danse hated to see him so torn apart.Somewhat unintentionally, Danse reflected the perturbed expression back to Emil. As much as he didn't want to, Danse could feel tears stinging his eyes, fighting to come forth. Had Maxson really chosen Emil out of his entire selection of soldiers to hunt down Danse? Was Emil actually going to follow through on it? Danse wouldn't be surprised if he did - in his mind, the most important thing was loyalty to his faction, and Danse expected Emil to display such loyalty.The black-haired soldier spoke first."Danse."His voice sounded tight - like he himself was just barely holding back tears. Maybe he was.Danse took a long, shaky breath."...Emil."His voice cracked. He winced, not wanting to clue in on how he was feeling."Will you come down?"Danse looked at him, uncertain what would happen, but ultimately obliged. He got up from the ledge and walked along the roof and down the hillside that Listening Post Bravo was built into. He somewhat awkwardly picked his way down the hill, stepping over fragments of wood and dips in the earth.Now on ground level, Danse approached Emil. He could feel Emil's eyes burning into him, tracking his every move. Once face-to-face with the shorter soldier, a moment lapsed before Emil let his rifle fall from his shoulder and pulled Danse in for a rough hug.It caught Danse off-guard. He was already anxious from the past 24 hours, and the suddenness of Emil's embrace didn't help. He locked up, confused for a moment, before he realized that Emil was only hugging him. Even so, he didn't understand. He was a synth - why had Emil not just gunned him down already?Despite his doubts, Danse took a breath and relaxed. Up until now, he hadn't realized exactly how worked up he had been the entire time - all of the muscles that were tensed were relaxing, now. The taller man finally reciprocated the hug, wrapping his arms around Emil, pulling him just that little bit closer. Even though Danse was afraid of his reality as a synth, he couldn't deny the love he felt for Emil, nor the comfort that Emil gave him simply by being around. To Danse's chagrin, that same love also lent to his ultimate fear: that something in his synth programming would break, that he would become hostile, invariably aggressive, like the hundreds of feral ghouls he'd killed in his life, and attack the people who he cared about.The idea of it made Danse feel sick.

It felt like Emil's heart was trying to climb out of his chest. He felt equal parts apprehension and relief from seeing that Danse was still alive. Danse was making his way down from the roof of Bravo to be face-to-face with Emil, and Emil kept his eyes locked on the dejected soldier. Even if he was alive now, Emil was worried that he might make a move at any time to kill himself.After a few short moments, Danse was finally in front of him. The other soldier was just a couple of inches taller than him, so Emil tilted his head up ever so slightly to look at Danse, before dropping his rifle from his shoulder and pulling him into a hug.Finally, the dam broke, and Emil started crying. He hugged Danse tightly, tucking his head into his shoulder, trembling as he prevented himself from sobbing grossly. He had been so worried, and so afraid, and now here he was, with Danse still alive. He didn't want to let go, and he never wanted to face the fear of losing him again.Danse didn't reciprocate for a moment - maybe he was caught off guard - but eventually, he did return the gesture, wrapping his arms around Emil and sighing. Emil could feel Danse relax just the smallest bit - he stopped straightening out his back, his shoulders slackened.Emil didn't want to let go. He was used to Danse coming and going from the Prydwen - that was expected; they were Brotherhood soldiers. They had to go out on their own assignments. When Emil initially noticed Danse's absence, he thought little of it, but once Maxson pulled him in to speak and caught him up on current events, it felt like a rock had settled in Emil's stomach. With new awareness of the circumstances, he was worried, and only now was that feeling dissipating as Danse was alive in front of him.Danse moved from hugging Emil to gently rubbing a spot on his back, tightening his grip as Emil cried. It helped him calm down - some people were wary from Danse from his initial stoicness, but Emil was comforted by Danse's quiet, sometimes inept support. He didn't care that Danse sometimes fumbled his intended meaning - what mattered was that Danse cared enough to try.The two of them stayed like that for a while - neither one was particularly counting the time. Emil eventually managed to regain his composure, and wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his uniform. He stepped back from Danse, breaking the embrace, looking directly at him again. Danse was looking down and away, his eyebrows bunching together, seeming concerned.Just as before, Emil was the first one to break the silence."Can we go inside?" He asked, his voice scratchy from crying."Of course." Danse responded.As Danse approached the door of Listening Post Bravo, Emil took a moment to pick his rifle up out of the dirt. He didn't bother dusting it off - it was the post-apocalyptic wasteland; everything was dirty, and even if he dusted it off now, it would simply get dirty again. Better to keep the cleaning to actual maintenance.Once back in possession of his weapon, he turned to follow Danse. The older man - synth...? - had opened the door, and was waiting for Emil. He took a cursory glance around the area - a force of habit - to check if there was anyone else around. Same as the past few hours, there was nobody in the vicinity of Listening Post Bravo. Paranoia alleviated, Emil proceeded in to the derelict building.The inside was objectively worse than the outside - there was a surprising amount of rusted barrels stacked to the side, the moth-eaten scraps of an American flag, as well as a dusty pre-War desk with a gutted computer on it. Emil also took note of the legs of a skeleton, decayed for decades (or maybe even centuries), poking out from behind the door that Danse had open. His partner had likely moved it out of view while he was hunkering down.Finished with his observation of the room, Emil elected to sit on one of the barrels that was sitting upright. Danse let the door swing shut behind him, a dull thunk resounding as it closed, the air disturbance kicking up a small cloud of dust on impact.

As the door shut, Danse stepped aside and leaned against the wall, folding his arms. He watched Emil cross the room, brush some minute debris off of a barrel, and take a seat. It was a habit that Danse found endearing that went largely unnoticed by everyone else.Once the black-haired Paladin sat down, Danse spoke.“What are you doing here?”“Elder Maxson ordered me to execute you.”“Yet you haven’t.”“I don’t want to.”Danse was caught off-guard by this response. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but came up short, and closed it again. He suddenly felt that, somehow, over the past thirteen years, he had not learned a thing about the man in front of him.Emil turned his head away as he admitted it, mildly ashamed that he felt so deeply for a synth, because the Brotherhood had drilled it so deeply into him that synths were lesser than human, and undeserving of existence. He felt like his heart was contorting with anxiety from admitting that he didn’t want to kill Danse. His feelings of contradiction were once again rearing their head.Eventually, Danse found his words again. Well - a word.“Why?”Emil took a moment to deliberate on Danse’s question, figuring out how best to answer it. There were a few reasons for why he didn’t want to follow through on his orders - because he cared about Danse; because Danse tried his best for other people; because his perspective was changing; because it would hurt him.Danse’s gaze was burning into him. The synthetic man was ready to hang on to his every word - he looked up to Emil, he trusted him, and he was deeply curious as to Emil’s reasoning.Emil turned his gaze back towards Danse, but held his gaze on the wall next to the man. He made a quiet tsk before responding.“Because I’ve only ever seen you try your best. The past decade that we’ve been together, you’ve shown unwavering loyalty to the Brotherhood, you did your best to support Recon Team Gladius, you are selfless. Being a synth doesn’t change the good you’ve done for the world, and for everyone around you.”Danse opened his mouth to speak, but Emil continued.“I don’t know if there’s some piece of programming inclining you to act the way that you do. And to be honest, at this point, it doesn’t matter to me. And it doesn’t matter to Haylen.”Danse was surprised by the mention of Haylen, and cut in to Emil’s speech.“What does Haylen have to do with this?”“She’s the one who told me that you might be here, and pointed it out on my map. If she didn’t care about you, I probably wouldn’t have the opportunity to even be here.”There was a lapse of silence before Emil kept speaking.“...And I’m grateful that she told me. I don’t want to lose you, Danse. Both of us have already lost enough of our friends.”“...Please don’t make me lose you, too,” Emil finished, quieter than the rest of his statements.Danse was once again at a loss for words; a variety of emotions were beginning to churn inside of him.Foremost, he felt selfish. He had not taken a single moment to imagine that other people would care about him, especially that they would care about him with disregard for the fact that he was a synth. He felt selfish for instantly spiraling into suicidal ideation over his discovery. Immediately after selfishness, he felt regret. He felt like it was his fault, somehow, that he had made people care about him, and that in turn, they would now be hurt for it. Maybe they would be hurt by his death; maybe they would be hurt by him; maybe they would be hurt by the perceived betrayal of having befriended a synth without knowing. Beyond regret, he still felt fear. He was afraid of Emil’s dedication; he was afraid of his now-uncertain future; he was still afraid of the concept of breaking and hurting the people around him - especially Emil.Danse stood back up and walked across the room, to Emil. The shorter man looked up, attention grabbed by the movement. He was mildly surprised when Danse hugged him - Danse was not one to engage physical affection very often. The surprise gave way to sadness when he heard Danse whisper hoarsely.“I’m sorry, Emil.”It was the only thing he could think to say to Emil.“You don’t have anything to apologize for.” Emil responded, reciprocating the hug.Danse pulled away and sat on the corner of the dilapidated desk. He crossed his arms, and felt his lips turn down involuntarily.“I made you worry. I made you care about me. If I hadn’t - If I hadn’t… I don’t know,” Danse said, fumbling his words, distressed and uncertain how to proceed. “If I hadn’t gone to the Capital Wasteland, if I hadn’t joined the Brotherhood, if I hadn’t-”“Danse.”Emil’s voice cut through Danse’s babbling speech and thoughts. Danse looked down to the ground, shamefully."You didn't make me - or anyone else - do anything. None of this is your fault. Just because you were created and not born doesn't mean you lack independent thought or action. People care about you because of who you are."Danse's upset expression deepened, eyebrows furrowing and his nose barely scrunching."It's still - I'm -" Danse huffed, becoming frustrated with his failure to cohere his words. "I'm still a synth. You know about the Broken Mask as much as I do. You know that something could go wrong at any moment."Danse's voice was cracking as he got more agitated and emotional. He could feel the tears brewing, threatening to fall."I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to hurt anyone. I don't want to live a life where that could happen at any moment."Danse hung his head, defeated, crying. The tears were falling silently - no gasping, no hyperventilating, not even a sniffle. He felt wrong for crying; he felt like he shouldn't even be able to. He was sick of these cyclical feelings - the sadness, the fear, the love soaked in regret, the confusion.Now it was Emil's turn to get up and go to Danse's side. The human took his place next to his synthetic partner, and put an arm around his shoulders. He gently kissed Danse's temple, his heart hurting from seeing - and hearing - how shaken Danse was. He used his thumb to gently massage a muscle at the back of Danse's neck as he spoke, quietly."It's okay, Danse. I know that you don't want to hurt anyone. But don't you think it's worth it to enjoy the life that you have, while you have it? Even if things go wrong in the end, isn't it still better to spend time with the people you love?"Danse leaned heavily into Emil's embrace. He realized that the other man - the real human - would have some rebuttal to any argument he made. The realization snuffed his will to keep debating, to keep going back and forth.On top of that, Danse was struck with the mental image of Emil, alone, grieving, hurting from Danse’s death. The thought of it cut deep, striking him hard in his artificial heart. The pain he felt from it was tangible - cold dread washing over his body, his chest constricting with distress.Utterly overwhelmed, the man finally folded over, putting his face in his hands. Emil would never understand his position in the world; he would never understand the pain and paranoia that was weighing on Danse. Additionally, he realized that he could never admit to Emil how much he hated this life of fearing himself.In Danse’s silence, Emil was left to his own thoughts. He was neurotically worried - he had never heard Danse speak so pessimistically before, and it scared him. One of the bravest and most confident men that he knew was in shambles before him, and it felt unreal. Danse, who strove to be a role model for Brotherhood squires. Danse, who fearlessly stayed by his side in battle. Danse, who was willing to go to any length to protect the people he cared about. Danse, who was now falling apart.Emil didn’t know what else to do. He wasn’t sure there was anything else for him to do. He wished that he could erase the uncovered knowledge that Danse was a synth, that he could turn back time and inhibit the Institute raid from happening. He wished that things could go back to normal, and didn’t want to accept the reality that they never could.After a long silence, both men drowning in their sorrows, Danse finally found the strength to speak again.“You’re right, Emil. Even if my time with the Brotherhood is at its end, I still have more time with you, and everyone else out here in the Wasteland. We still have work to do. I can’t just leave that behind.”He was lying through his teeth, wanting the conversation to be over. Somewhere, deep inside him, there was some convoluted justification to denying his own feelings; there was a budding belief that he was obligated to listen and obey, that he shouldn’t be allowed to make any choices. That was a privilege restricted to humans - natural humans, not synthetic ones.Emil sighed, relaxing. He was relieved that Danse was finally understanding where he was coming from. He used his other hand to touch Danse’s face, gently pulling the synth to look at him. His eyes were bloodshot from crying, pale lines struck down his face where tears had ran. Emil leaned forward to kiss his forehead before pulling him in to another embrace, where it was now Danse’s turn to continue crying.Danse felt horrible. First his life had been upturned, and now he was lying to the person who had supported him and encouraged him indiscriminately ever since they had met. He felt as if every single part of him - his life, his thoughts, even his words and beliefs - were all just a gigantic con that he was pulling on everyone on Earth.Emil's voice broke Danse's train of thought."I'm glad that you understand. ... I don't know what I would do without you.""I know. I'm sorry that I made you worry. I'll be okay."Emil stood up."I should return to Elder Maxson. He won't be happy about this, but I don't care any more. If he refuses you from the Brotherhood, then I refuse to be a part of it."He reached into his uniform and pulled his holotags out, then over his head. He held out his hand to Danse, expecting the same. The synth obliged, taking off his own holotags, and dropping them into Emil's hand with a quiet clink.Emil stepped forward and gave Danse another tight hug."I'm going to be back. Please take care of yourself," Emil mumbled."I will." Danse responded, reciprocating the hug.Despite how much he wanted to stay, to not go back to the Prydwen, to not face Elder Maxson, Emil pulled away. He looked at Danse one more time - he looked incredibly tired, incredibly defeated - before finally leaving Listening Post Bravo. Emil opened and closed the door gently, wanting as much silence as possible.It had taken him half a day just to get to Listening Post Bravo. Emil looked at the sky - there was still plenty of daylight; the sun had not yet reached its apex. If he was lucky, he would be able to reach the Prydwen before night fell. He didn't want to spend another night out in the Wasteland - he wanted this agonizing business to be over with.With a sigh, Emil began his long trek back to Boston Airport.

BLIND BETRAYAL: PT. 2

Emil paced anxiously in front of the door to the Prydwen’s bridge. Elder Maxson was on the other side of the door, and it was time for the Paladin to face his superior. Emil was dreading the interaction - no doubt that Maxson would be furious for Emil’s disobedience and defection.
The soldier closed his eyes tight and rubbed his face roughly. Putting off the exchange would only make both parties more anxious and agitated. With a huff, he turned to the heavy door of the bridge and pushed it open.The leader of the chapter, Elder Maxson, was facing away from him. He was staring out the front window of the Prydwen, taking in the view of the Commonwealth far below. His head turned ever so slightly at the sound of the door opening.“Paladin Emil.” He said curtly.“Elder Maxson,” Emil responded, giving his superior the Brotherhood salute.“I assume the synth has been dealt with?” Elder Maxson questioned, now turning to face Emil. Maxson never looked happy, but the current situation made Emil feel as though Maxson's persistent demeanor was exacerbated. Anxiously, Emil answered his question.“No.”Maxson’s eyes went narrow, clearly angered by this response.
“Care to explain why, Paladin?”Emil felt cold run through his body, discomposed by Maxson’s intimidating presence.“I do not believe Danse is a threat, sir. He has been loyal to the Brotherhood and only ever done his best to act in favor of the faction and of the people. I do not believe that his synthetic nature negates the actions that he chooses to take. I will not kill someone who has not crossed me, or anyone else.”Maxson stood silently, his gaze burning into Emil.The black-haired man was unsettled by the Elder’s prolonged silence - and more thoroughly daunted by his stare. On his walk back, he had imagined this exchange going much differently - that he would be filled with more righteous anger, that he would speak more passionately against Elder Maxson’s ideology. Instead, he was pinned with apprehension by Maxson’s stifling presence, struggling to maintain his composure.Nonplussed, Emil continued his speech.“Both of us have shown unwavering loyalty to the Brotherhood - and you - up until now. I cannot continue my service to the Brotherhood in good conscience knowing that you disregard the actions of someone in favor of damning them for a trait outside of their control.I will gather our belongings as quickly as I can and depart from Boston Airport. This is my official resignation.”Emil reached into his uniform pocket and pulled out a pair of holotags - his and Danse's. He held them out to the Elder, waiting for him to take them. Maxson put out his hand, and Emil dropped both of them in his open palm. This was finality; this was closure. There was no turning back.Elder Maxson crossed his arms and turned back to the front-facing window of the bridge before speaking. Only seven words.“You have two hours. You are dismissed.”“Yes, sir,” was all that Emil could say before taking his leave from the room, letting the door swing shut with a loud, reverberating thunk.Equal parts urgency and relief washed over the now-defected soldier as he walked away from the bridge. He was free from the Brotherhood, free from their standards - but those were all that he knew for, quite literally, his entire life. It would be strange and alien for him to find a new place in the world, but that was a job he realized and accepted on his trek back to the Prydwen.As Emil made his way towards the back of the Prydwen, to the soldiers’ sleeping quarters, he crossed by Haylen in the mess hall. An agitated expression crossed her face when they made eye contact. In response, Emil gestured for her to follow him. The scribe gave a brief goodbye to the group she was eating with before pursuing the now ex-Paladin.“Emil…” She started, clearly assuming the worst.“Shh. Danse is alive,” Emil mumbled to her under his breath as they proceeded down the industrial hallways of the Prydwen. Her expression changed quickly from one of perturbation to relief.“Haylen. I have a tall request of you.” He continued. Haylen stared at him intently, hanging onto every word.“I am going to retrieve Danse’s and my belongings. I will also be taking Danse’s previously assigned power armor when I leave - would you be able to follow up and bring my power armor to Listening Post Bravo within a few days?”The scribe responded with a somber nod. “Absolutely. Thank you, Emil. When I heard the news, I was afraid of who Maxson might assign for the mission. Danse has always treated me with kindness - I couldn’t bear the thought of his death.”Emil gave her a rough pat on the back. “I appreciate it, Haylen. I need to go now - Elder Maxson has given me only two hours to gather our belongings and vacate Boston Airport. I would rather not put my life at risk by hanging around here too long. I’ll see you again.”With that, Emil pulled away from Haylen and picked up the pace, quickly walking ahead of her. He didn’t want to think about what might happen to her if she was seen excessively fraternizing with an percieved traitor to the Brotherhood.Emil had to work quickly. If he wanted to retrieve Danse’s power armor as well as all of their possessions, he had to get it done before Maxson had the chance to disseminate the information that Emil had defected, and should be prohibited from Brotherhood equipment.So he did exactly that - he went first to Danse’s assigned bed and footlocker, and made short work of packing up his partner’s belongings. As soldiers, neither of them had an excess of possessions, which made Emil’s job that much easier. Once the footlocker was emptied, he crossed the sleeping quarters and to gather his own paraphernalia.With his bag newly weighed, and the two footlockers cleared out, Emil now made his way to the power armor bay of the Prydwen. Proctor Ingram made eye contact with him, giving him a brief shot of anxiety, before Ingram simply raised her hand in greeting before returning to her tinkering. She hadn’t heard yet. With a sharp inhale, Emil made his way to the armor previously assigned to Danse and climbed in to it.He relished in the mechanical strength of the power armor as it whirred to life around him. The back panel clicked shut and he heard the various bits and bobs inside it hiss and click before the in-visor display lit up with information. The state of the armor pieces, his vitals, his location, and the compass. It was all a familiar sight to him, but never failed to give him a rush of adrenaline. He could take on the world in here.Without saying a word, Emil left the power armor bay, the mechanical armor making reverberating thumps with its weight. Hopefully, nobody would stop him or question him - he had the helmet on, anyways, so nobody should be able to identify him.Thankfully, things played out exactly as he had hoped - he was not stopped or questioned by a single soul as he made his way to the vertibird bay on the lowest level of the Prydwen.Down here, in the open air, Emil could see the entirety of the Boston Airport below him, Brotherhood soldiers in uniform and power armor going to and fro for their various duties. He watched them from high above, feeling an inkling of remorse that he would no longer be able to speak to them. If anything, they would only ever meet at the ends of each others’ guns - and he dreaded the prospect.Emil shook his head briefly, dismissing his thoughts. He needed to leave, not sit here reflecting on the faction who had turned its back on the man most important to him. He boarded the nearest vertibird, its pilot not even bothering to ask him what he was doing. Their duty was only to transport soldiers from the Airport to the Prydwen and back.As the vertibird disembarked from its dock, Emil found himself mildly mourning the fact that he was no longer part of something bigger than himself.

BLIND BETRAYAL: PT. 3

The Commonwealth was dark and cold. Emil had long since removed the helmet from his power armor, so he felt the wind lashing against his face. It was whipping hard, from the south - there was most likely going to be a radiation storm.Emil stopped momentarily, power armor going silent as he stopped moving, to turn around and look back at the ruined city of Boston, and the silhouette of the Prydwen in the distance. As dark as the city was, the Prydwen was lit up - both internally and by the Brotherhood lights set up around the airport. Conflicting emotions roiled inside him - on one hand, he still felt awe from the grandeur of the Prydwen. On the other hand, he felt anger and betrayal for the loss he had just endured.Never again would he be able to step foot on the mechanical marvel of the Prydwen.I need to stop dwelling on this and get back to Danse, Emil thought to himself. Even if the Brotherhood will not take us, he’s still relying on me.With this thought, the ex-soldier turned back north and resumed his long journey. The first time he went, it had been significantly more exhausting - he had only his two legs to bring him there and back. It was a bit easier this time, encased in mechanical power armor, his movements being facilitated by the machinery that surrounded him.

Danse, on the other hand, had returned to his position on top of Listening Post Bravo. It was a decently secure building, which he appreciated, but it was so much more claustrophobic compared to the space he was used to on the Prydwen. At least, being out here, he could actually observe the environment around him, and not four dirty, old walls.The sun had long since set, and Emil hadn’t yet returned. Part of him was anxious - he had no idea how things might have gone between Emil and Elder Maxson. For all Danse knew, Maxson may have had Emil executed for his synth sympathies and his direct disobedience, and even sent a new Knight or Paladin out to follow through on the orders that Emil refused.Another part of him was not as anxious. Danse knew how long the trip was between Listening Post Bravo and the Prydwen - he had made it himself a few times before, when he was still in service to the Brotherhood. If everything went over safely between Maxson and Emil, then it would be a while before Emil returned.Danse was largely trying to avoid thinking about it, but his choices were to dwell on the knowledge that he was not human - he had never been human - or to obsess over whether or not Emil was safe and alive.Danse rubbed his face. Synthetic hands against a synthetic face … no, shut up, Danse thought to himself. He hated thinking about it, he hated reminding himself of what he was. Maybe, if he could just ignore it, then he could forget. Then he could act like it “wasn’t there.”The synth sighed and laid back. After a moment, he turned his body, so that he could lay down parallel to the edge of the roof.With his back to the concrete, he fixated on what his body was feeling, experiencing.The sun had set long enough ago that the concrete of Boston and the surrounding areas were rapidly losing heat. The concrete of Listening Post Bravo had long since lost its heat, and Danse could feel the material pulling the heat from his body, now. The cold bit into him, through the Brahmin leather of his Brotherhood uniform. More directly, he could feel the heat draining from his hands, especially his fingers - bare against the air and the ground.Danse stared up at the sky. Full of stars. He started tearing up, staring at the beauty above him, feeling like he never deserved to witness it. Out of everything in the universe, all of the beauty and all of the ugly, he had been made into existence, and he sold himself completely to the idea that he never should have been. The synthetic man turned his head, searching the sky for its brightest star. Centuries ago, it had been proclaimed the North Star, and even to this day people still pointed it out to their children, their friends, their apprentices.It didn’t take him long. There were hundreds - thousands - of stars in the sky, but just as the past, the North Star was still the brightest. He fixated on it, the rest of the world around him fading out into dull background noise - visually and auditorily. He reached an arm up and used his hand to block out the North Star, and the ones around it, before putting his arm back down.So many things managed to stay the same throughout human history. People were mostly still the same - selfish, greedy, disjointed. So many things about the world were still the same, too - the same stars, the same ideas. Even now, people were still trying to attain some kind of immortality, and Danse was the disgusting product of humanity’s greed. Because someone else had the idea of making humans live forever through technology, now he was the one who had to suffer through the consequences of his own ideology.Finally, one of the tears that was welling up in his eyes rolled down the side of his face, cutting a cold, wet line down from the corner of his eye across his temple and down the crease of his ear. He wanted, so desperately, to not live through this. He wished that Emil had followed his orders and killed him. He wished that he had the confidence to commit to it and kill himself.But he couldn’t.He told Emil that he would be okay.So, he needed to be okay, until Emil came back.Danse sat back up. He was feeling antsy. He hated sitting here, alone at Bravo, with nothing to do. He needed to do something.After a moment of thought, the synth stood up and climbed down the hillside yet again. If he and Emil were going to be staying here - he assumed that they would - then they would need something more comfortable than dirty concrete to sleep on.He stepped in to the building and picked up the lone, brittle pencil that was sitting on the desk. He planned on leaving, to gather materials, but he wanted to leave a note in case Emil was closer than further, and arrived before Danse returned.He scribbled on the folder next to the utensil cup, careful not to snap the rotting pencil.Went out for materials. Don’t worry, I won’t die.Danse couldn’t think of anything more concise or more reassuring to write down, so he put the pencil back down, this time next to the folder instead of in the cup. With one final glance around the room, he left again, this time setting off to the nearest known settlement, Greentop Nursery.

The moon was high and bright in the sky by the time Emil found his way back to Listening Post Bravo. His return trip was less peaceful than when he first arrived - a group of Raiders had ambushed him, but fallen easily, given the strength and protection of his power armor.The lights inside the building were on, the station having its own generator, powered by one of the ever-sought fusion cores left in the Wasteland.Emil opened the door to find that it was much cleaner than before - and could almost be described as livable. Danse was sat at the far end of the room, in the old wooden chair, having dozed off. Emil couldn’t prevent the smile that crossed his face. For the first time since their defection, Danse looked at peace.The desk that was once in the center of the room had been dragged away to the side, to sit underneath the window. Somehow, Danse had managed to procure two sleeping bags - and two pillows. It wasn’t much, but it was better than sleeping on bare concrete. He had also, apparently, undertaken the task of hauling out at least a few of the barrels, and disposed of the skeleton that was previously shoved behind the door.Encased in the massive mechanical armor, Emil’s entry was destined to be loud - there was no way around it. Even so, he couldn’t afford to exit it and leave it sitting outside. With a hint of annoyance, Emil trudged into the room, and just as expected, the resounding footsteps woke Danse.The synthetic man sat up straight, clearly startled by the noise. After a split second, he winced, the muscles in his body having locked up in the strange position he fell asleep in - and cramped in response to the sudden movement. His eyes were blearly from his impromptu nap, and a shot of fear ran through him when he saw the blurry image of power armor in front of him. Is this really it? All because I fell asleep? The thought went through his head like lightning, before he came to and recalled all the surrounding events - and Emil removed his helmet.His curly, black hair ever-so-slightly sprung up, no longer flattened by the helmet, though most of it stayed stuck to his forehead from the accumulated sweat. If only the beloved power armor had air conditioning…“Emil,” Danse said, voice gruff from sleep. He cleared his throat.“I see you’ve been busy.” Emil replied with a grin. He was happy that Danse was doing well enough to go about and get materials to make the place more tolerable.“I got tired of sitting in here, doing nothing,” Danse said. “I went over to Greentop Nursery and managed to barter out some things to sleep with.”“What did you sleep with last night? I haven’t actually thought about it until now. These weren’t here earlier.” Emil asked. He figured he knew the answer, but shot it anyways.Danse looked away, mildly discomforted. “...Nothing. Just on the concrete.”A saddened look crossed Emil’s face momentarily. Just as he thought.“But, hey, at least it’s not another night,” he continued, not wanting to dwell on the negatives. There was already enough going on to upset either of them - he didn’t want to pile on to it.“That’s true. Thank you for getting them,” Emil responded. He turned away from Danse, facing the wall nearest the door, before disengaging his power armor to exit it. It beeped, signifying its shut-down, and the back panel once again clicked open for him to step out.Now free of the gigantic metal shell, Emil took a moment to run his fingers through his hair, breaking apart the strands that were stuck together from sweat. As much as he loved the exhilaration and might of power armor, he couldn’t stand the feeling of sweat accumulating on his head and body and hair. Once he was satisfied with the release of his hair, he wiped his sleeved arm across his forehead, wicking away the remaining sweat.Now it was Danse’s turn to softly smile, watching his partner fix himself up. A moment elapsed before Danse realized - Emil had a suit of power armor. That he didn’t have earlier.“Wait, how did you get that?” Danse said, cutting in to the quiet moment.Emil pursed his lips for a second, hesitant to respond, but obliged. “I just… did. I got in, in the power armor bay, and kept my helmet on, and just… left.”Danse’s eyebrows raised. “And they just let you?”“I didn’t tell anyone what has happened, and I got it done before Maxson had the chance to notify the rest of the Brotherhood that I - we - had defected.”Danse’s lips turned down while his eyebrows stayed up. He was half impressed with Emil, and half surprised by the Brotherhood. They were very protective of their equipment - but it made sense that Emil was still clocked as a Brotherhood soldier when he retrieved it.“Well, I’m certainly not complaining. Power armor - especially straight from the Brotherhood - is always a good thing to have around.” Danse said with a shrug.“...Haylen will be by in a few days to bring us a second suit, as well,” Emil added, somewhat sheepishly.
Danse perked up at the mention of Haylen. “Is she okay? Is she doing well?” He almost immediately inquired.“I think so. She was eating with some other scribes before she got up to talk to me. She was worried about you,” Emil answered. “I let her know that you’re okay. I’m sure you can catch up better when she brings the power armor.”Emil crossed the room, approaching Danse. The other man finally stood up from the decaying chair he had been sitting in for so long, the old wood creaking quietly as it stopped holding his weight.Emil smiled up at him before pulling him in for a hug.“I’m glad you’re alive, Danse.”
“I’m glad that you’re here.” Danse responded, reciprocating the hug.
He felt anxious, and in turn it made him feel like there was something stuck in his throat. He was glad that Emil was there, but he still felt the same agitation as earlier. Emil had now lost the one thing that was consistent in his entire life - and Danse still felt horrible guilt for it. He pushed down the feeling, not wanting it to taint what he wanted to be a happy moment in comparison to everything else the two of them had gone through that day.Emil pulled away first, yawning in the process. Danse responded with his own yawn - ever infectious.“I don’t know about you, but I’m downright exhausted. I’ve been back and forth across the Commonwealth twice today,” Emil said with a sigh.Danse nodded in agreement. “My nap was not rejuvenating. I don’t remember falling asleep, but I’m definitely still tired.”Emil smiled. “Then how about we go to bed - and hope tomorrow is better?”Danse certainly couldn’t argue with that.

MAKING CAMP

2301Emil huffed, getting tired from walking over the demolished concrete. A lot of places had concrete that was merely cracked, but Emil found that the further you got from the city, the more the streets were destroyed into big, chunky rocks. It was annoying and sometimes dangerous to walk over.He and Avery were heading north, making their way to the nearest bridge to get back to the Castle. They had just run a mission to help out their allies at Somerville Place, a settlement skirting the edge of the Glowing Sea. They were being harassed by some nearby raiders, and needed “assistance.” Avery and Emil had resolved the problem, and were on their way home.It was getting darker and colder by the minute - it was late in the day, and the sun was already on the horizon. Emil stopped for a minute, looking to the sky and catching his breath, before calling out to Avery.“Hey, I think we should set up for the night.”Avery stopped and turned to look at him, and likewise look at the sky.“You’re right. I wasn’t paying attention to the time. Let’s find somewhere to make camp.” They called back in agreement, turning their attention back to their surroundings and looking for somewhere decent to sleep for the night.The duo quickly found a suitable place to sleep nearby - it was at the bottom of the hill that the street was on top of, so they were suitably out-of-sight.Emil was setting up the tent, lost in his own thoughts, when he heard Avery start making… some kind of noise. It wasn’t necessarily speaking, so he turned around, puzzled and concerned. Avery was over to the side, with their packs, starting to hunch over. Emil’s eyebrows furrowed as he approached them.“Avery? Are you alright?” He asked, reaching out to grab their shoulder.Avery jolted in response to his voice, whipping around to look at him with discolored eyes. Emil had never gotten to see a feral ghoul’s face up close before, so he didn’t realize what had happened to Avery. He looked at them, still confused, for a moment that felt like forever as he observed before the now-feral ghoul assaulted him.“Hey! Hey - Avery!” He shouted, startled by the attack. Avery had been acting completely normal up to that point - he was completely unprepared for the attack. The arm that he had reached out to touch their shoulder was in front of him, desperately fending off Avery’s mauling. Emil was knocked back, onto the ground, before he put pieces together and realized what happened: Avery had gone feral, after so long, and he was the unfortunate witness - and now victim.Emil scrambled back, begrudgingly kicking Avery, internally flinching. It dazed Avery long enough for Emil to grab his 10mm pistol that he kept at his waist. As Avery recovered from the kick and refocused on him, Emil rapidly fired shots at them. The first two missed, Emil unable to control the recoil - he could barely control his own thoughts - but he corrected his aim and began landing shots.It destroyed him, tearing him apart from the inside out, to be doing this to Avery. Logically, he knew, that Avery as he knew them, was gone. Whatever part of the brain that made Avery, Avery, had likely withered and given way to the incoherent aggression of whatever controlled a feral ghoul’s mind. But they still had the same body, the same face, they were still wearing the same clothes. By the time he stopped firing, and Avery had stopped attacking, Emil realized there were tears on his face.He sat there for an unknown amount of time, crying and hyperventilating, both from the panic of being attacked and the distress of killing his second-best friend. It took even longer for him to realize the pain that was coursing through him from the visceral wound on his arm.Emil felt cold and all of time felt slow as he observed the wound on his arm, still bleeding, and then looked to Avery’s body. He managed to get himself up, off the ground, and went to the packs that Avery had been looking through before. He got out a stimpak, Med-X, and first aid to clean and cover his wounds, as well as deal with the pain.After he dispensed his own treatment, Emil couldn’t really bring himself to do much else. It was late into the night at this point - the moon had been steadily climbing in the sky, and Emil sat awake blankly staring into the night. Part of him wished that he could think of anything, but there was just repetitive silence interjected with the sounds of the Wasteland night. Bloodbugs and bloatflies buzzing in the distance… wind shaking the dried, dead branches of the trees nearby… an intermittent gunshot or especially far-away explosion.Eventually, Emil managed to fall into a restless sleep. The only reason he did manage to fall asleep was the pure, built-up exhaustion from traveling and fighting. He only managed to get a few hours, waking up at the crest of dawn, feeling unrested and still unreal.When he opened the flaps to the tent, he once again could not help but stare at Avery’s body for a few moments. It was a painful reality, and one that he couldn’t grasp just yet. Every moment, it felt like Avery should just get up and start moving around and act like they were simply trying to mess with him, or something.Even so, he took some short time to collapse the single tent he had set up - there had been no need to get Avery’s ready, after all.Once everything was packed up, he knew it was all too much for him to carry at once, so he went through his own and Avery’s belongings to divide out what was the most crucial to bring back - being sure to factor in… Avery’s weight.After Emil divided their belongings, he found a cluster of broken concrete that he wrestled to hide the rest under, for the Minutemen to return for later. As he strained to pull the decimated concrete, his wounds from the night before flared up, causing him to buckle and withdraw from the task. He had to figure out another way to accomplish this.He spent some time observing the pile, trying to find what he could possibly shove back and forth without collapsing the whole thing. Eventually he found a slab that wasn’t holding up the entire pile, and shoved it aside just enough to cram the rest of their belongings behind it and then shoving it back.Exhausted, Emil sat down back where he had set up camp. His bag was still there, but aside from his bag and Avery’s body, there was essentially no mark that they had been there.Emil sat there for a while, silently at first, until an inexplicable urge bubbled up from inside of him.“Avery…” he started, even knowing they wouldn’t respond.“…I’m going to miss you. I think everyone is.” Emil continued, chest constricting, eyes welling up with tears.“I’m so sorry. I wish none of this had happened. I wish I didn’t have to kill you. I wish you hadn’t gone feral.”“…I only hope I can do justice for your memory. That’s all that we have left, Avery. It’s just the memory of you.”“...”“I’ll do the best that I can, for you. I don’t think I’m cut to be the new General, but whoever is, I’ll help them. I’ll stay by their side the same as I did for you.”“And Mokushi… I know this is going to destroy her. I’m sorry that you couldn’t see her again before this happened.”Emil started choking on his words, now taking small gasps between his sentences because he had started crying. He was trying to ignore the tears that he felt rolling down his face.Emil huffed for a moment, trying to regain his composure. There was no need to - he was alone. Even so, he felt some kind of wrong for crying over this.He wrapped his arms around his knees and put his head down. He took the time to cry it out before pulling himself back together, wiping his eyes roughly with the collar of his shirt. He needed to get back to the Castle, sooner rather than later.Emil stretched out, popping his joints, before standing up and putting on his pack. His eyebrows furrowed with upset, he turned to Avery’s body, and moved them into position before hefting them over his shoulder, using the surface area on his bag to distribute their dead weight more tolerably.It was going to be a long way back.

DARON MEETS SHERIDAN

Daron huffed as she chopped through the thick undergrowth of the Nepone forest. It was a hot and humid day on Acias, and she was out exploring as usual. She could have sworn that the path she cleared out just a couple days before was totally regrown by now. It was a mystery to everyone how the Nepone forest seemed to fix itself, if not reinforced itself, in mere days. Some people had superstitions of magical beings that were responsible for filling the forest with energy, while others believed it was simply a happening of the landscape.So here she was again, carving out the same path for what seemed like the hundredth time. She felt like it got easier every time, like she was getting farther and farther each time around, but there wasn’t the clearest ways of knowing. Just like the undergrowth seemed to re-flourish, any markings or carvings made into the trees would be healed too. Daron had tried to do exactly that before and she wasn’t able to find the marking she made the next day.Today felt different, though. The plants seemed to honestly fall away easier than usual; she usually had to hack at them for a few minutes before being able to break through. It felt as easy as cutting grass this time. Being grateful for the break, Daron tried not to dwell on it, taking her blessings as they came. Thank you, Devr, she thought with a small smile. Hopefully her energy wouldn’t go to waste.She continued her task for a couple hours longer, stopping for a break every so often before continuing her exploration of the forest. As time passed, Daron moved farther and farther away from the sunlight at the entrance of her path. Sunlight still filtered through the canopy, but it wasn’t nearly as bright as outside the forest. She soon saw a bright patch through the trees; she assumed it was a clearing in the forest. She was excited - this was something new!Daron continued cutting her way through the forest, rapidly approaching the clearing. She was keen on seeing what could be there - whether it was a simple open field, something decrepit, or by some chance, another person’s camp. It was considerably quiet in the area; bugs were trilling in the heat, but the birds didn’t seem to be around.As she broke through, she observed the area. It was interesting; it was open and grassy, but the vast majority of the trees surrounding the area were completely covered in viney overgrowth. That was the first thing that caught her attention, before she looked around more and noticed that the grass appeared to be cut down in a small area. She cautiously held her machete at her side as she approached the clearing, wondering what would’ve created it.Eventually Daron saw that there was someone laying there, in the middle of it all. They were laying on the ground, on a pile of vines. They didn’t react when Daron approached; she wondered if they were dead, or asleep. Only one way to find out, she wondered, boldly stepping towards the person. As she got closer she noticed that not only were they laying on the vines, but that they were also intertwined in the plants as well. She put her hand on their shoulder and gently shook.“Hey… Hello? Are you okay?” Daron asked, concerned. In a split second she realized she didn’t need to be at all - the person snapped awake in a moment, thoroughly alarmed by the touch. A few incomprehensible moments later, Daron found herself held in place by the vines with this strange person a yard away, looking at her in bewilderment. They immediately shot off questions: “Who are you? What are you doing here? How did you find me?”Daron frowned at them. She pulled one of her arms from the vines that held her, but couldn’t move. "I thought you were dead! You were just laying there in the field.” She said, clearly upset. In the sudden frenzy, her machete had been knocked out of her hand and was laying on the ground now. Daron looked at it before looking back at the stranger.“I’m not going to hurt you. My name is Daron.” She told them. They gave her a suspicious look, still clearly anxious, and did not respond. “Will you tell me your name? …Are you controlling these vines?” Daron asked.The strange person gave her another look before responding. “Yes, I am. My name is Sheridan. You still didn’t say how you found me.”Daron sighed. So she would have to play by their rules, as long as she was held by these plants… so she had to oblige their questions. “I don’t understand what you mean. You say that like I meant to find you,” Daron started, “I was just cutting down plants in the forest to explore, and I found this clearing, and I saw you. What’s your problem?” She was clearly bitter about the situation at hand.Sheridan squinted at her before stepping towards Daron, leaning down and picking up her machete. “I have… reasons… to be paranoid. And I’m not totally convinced, considering you dropped this when I restrained you,” they said, widely gesturing with it.Daron raised an eyebrow at them, looking down at the plants holding her in place, and then looking at Sheridan again. “Uh… I don’t think you have very much to be afraid of, here.” She said.Sheridan contemplated on her comment, nodding when they realized and agreed that they clearly had the upper hand. The vines on Daron grew slack.Daron flexed her arm, popping a joint. That was certainly one of the more unpleasant experiences of her life. She turned to Sheridan again. “Can I have my machete back, or are you going to threaten me with my own weapon?” She asked.Sheridan shook their head. “No. Not yet. I don’t trust you,” they said, still watching her. “You cannot leave until we come to an agreement.” They told her.Daron gave her a questioning look. “And… why is that?” She asked. Sheridan gestured for her to sit down, vines crawling across the ground to offer a softer seat than dirt. They sat first, and spoke after Daron did the same.“Because I am a protector. You, Daron, should not have even found me in the first place. It’s dangerous if I let you just go tell the world about me… or any others like me.” Sheridan began. Daron felt a vine wrap around her leg. “I control these plants; I protect this forest, and everything inside it. I have noticed and seen you coming into this forest; I am the one who prevented your entrance. My own negligence has put me in this situation.”Daron gave them a strange look, seeming skeptical. “You’re the reason I’ve had so much trouble? You’re the reason that the plants grow back, that the trees heal their markings?” She asked, baffled.Sheridan nodded. “It’s my purpose to protect this place, excuse me, from nosy people like you. This forest is full of secrets that should be left to rot, not sought out for gain,” they told her. “The things I’m talking about are the things that made me like this.” They said, gesturing, a variety of vines moving in response.The pieces started falling into place for Daron. Something had happened to Sheridan, here, and they regrew the forest to prevent people from finding it, and using it again. Being as she was, this only sparked more of her curiosity. “If you want me to just be quiet and leave, then we’re going to have a problem… but I’m willing to make a deal with you.” Daron said, ideas lining up.Sheridan gave her another suspicious look. They hated getting caught with an adventurer like this - the kind that wouldn’t give in, the kind that wanted something in exchange. They sighed, knowing that they wouldn’t be able to get out of this the same as Daron was stuck here until they finished. “Fine. What do you have in mind?” Sheridan asked.“For one, I want to know - and see - what you’re talking about. The vagueness has caught my interest. And second of all - I don’t want to leave here empty handed. I’ve been coming out here for weeks with nothing to show for it.” Daron said, excitement in her eye. She was finally finding something new.Sheridan was silent for a while, considering what Daron said. They finally spoke up. “I will agree to this, but not for today,” they started, looking at the sky. The sun was nearing the treetops, getting lower with every passing moment. “You can come back here. I will meet you here, early tomorrow, and I will show you.” they told Daron. Sheridan reached down and picked a stem of rispere flowers from their vines, handing it to Daron as they said, “this is all I can give you for today.”It felt like a sweet sentiment to Daron. She stood up from the ground, offering a hand to help Sheridan back up too. They took her hand and was swiftly pulled back to their feet. Sheridan handed Daron back her machete, believing they could trust in her now.“Thank you, Sheridan,” Daron said, uncertain. She sheathed the machete in her belt. “I should leave now.” She said, looking towards the quickly darkening sky. Sheridan nodded.“I will see you tomorrow, Daron.” They responded as Daron receded into the forest. The path she had cleared on her way in was still open as she left, and she managed to leave much faster than she entered. She was thankful to Sheridan for not regrowing the path.

VER LEAVES THE NEST

It was finally the day.Ver had talked about it a couple months ago, and Xen was encouraging. She had been Xen's companion for a couple of years, and she wanted to venture out on her own to explore new parts of the world. Ver took the time since then to think about where she wanted to start from until she was certain and had arrangements in order. She was going to move to a village to the north-west of Xen's base, named Cauleb. It was a location that they frequented for missions and commerce, but he never went further north or west from that village.It seemed like the perfect place for her to start from - the people there already knew her, but there was still unexplored lands for her to venture out to. Ver and Xen went there a few times since she brought up the idea of going out on her own, and she made arrangements to move into a house next door to the herdsman. She was well-acquainted with him, because Xen frequently bought animals from him to raise for livestock.He was also the one who stole the tamer's fertilizer and garden tools.Ver was excited to be going out on her own, but equally nervous about where she chose to move to. She knew the residents already, but... she wasn't sure what they thought of her. She was usually just in tow to Xen as he went about his business and petty crimes.Ver shook her head, coming back to the world. She was getting ready to go - cleaning up around her room and storing away things she didn't plan on bringing. Honestly, that was most of her belongings. She had the clothes on her back and the sword Xen gave her when she came out of the replica machine, as well as some meals she had prepared. She planned on going by storage to get the materials to make some tools before she left.There was a knock at her door."Come in," she said.The door opened, and Xen stepped in. He had his hands behind his back, and a poorly restrained expression of happiness. When Ver looked at him, she couldn't help but laugh."What is it? What do you have, Xen?" She asked him.He brought a bag out from behind him, heavy with items. Ver took it from him and placed it on the floor, then sat down and opened it.The first thing she pulled out was a set of armor: a Parasect Outfit, as well as silver gloves and boots. Ver raised her eyebrows - she knew Xen was having trouble finding silver. She looked up at him."What? I want you to start off with nice things. It'll make your life a whole lot easier." Xen said. "Keep looking, there's still more."Ver turned back to the bag. The next thing she found was a pair of tools - a silver pickaxe and axe. The last few things, at the bottom of the bag, were a handful of accessories. There was Cecil, an Insector Appendage, and a Goblin Shield."Thank you," she said as she got up and hugged Xen. He had a stupid, huge grin on his face, clearly proud that she liked the gift."Take care of them, I took a lot of time to make it for you. Ammar helped me get everything together, so you should thank him, too." Xen patted her on the back before pulling away. "I need to go tend to the animals. Let me know before you leave!" He said as he left the room. The door clicked closed behind him.Ver was still smiling. She took the time to put on the armor and accessories that Xen gave to her, then sheathed her sword at her waist.She took one more look around the room that had always been her home, appreciating everything she had and was leaving here. There was nothing else for her to do - the room was clean, all her stuff was organized, and she had everything that she wanted to bring with her. She left the room and closed the door behind her.Ammar's room was right next to hers, though he kept his door ajar. She knocked on it and leaned in. Ammar was laying on his bed with a map in front of him. When Ver leaned in, he looked up at her."Hey, Ammar. Xen told me that you helped him get everything together for this stuff," she said, gesturing to the armor she was wearing. "Thank you for helping him. I'm going to take good care of it."Ammar gave her a little smile. "Of course, Ver. More importantly, make sure to take care of yourself. Things can be replaced - you can't."Ver nodded. "I don't have anything else to do, so I guess I'm gonna get going. I'll see you around, Ammar!"Ammar waved at her before he went back to looking over the map.Ver walked through the base, taking her time to think back on the memories she had here. She thought about the first few months she was here, when Xen was renovating, and he kept moving things around where she couldn't find them. She thought back on the hundreds of breakfasts and dinners they'd cooked and eaten together, first her and Xen, later with Ammar as well. It was everything she knew and was familiar with, and she was leaving it behind.She stepped out into the backyard where all of the animals were kept. She walked past the mounts first, and petted their lioness before going to the back where the farm animals stayed.Xen was in the furthest-back pen, sitting down and petting the chickens. It seemed that he had already collected their eggs for the day. Ver approached the fence and leaned on it to talk to him."Hey, I'm about to leave." She told him.Xen put down a chicken and got up to hug her. "Make sure to take Emerald with you. She has the best speed out of the other pets," he said. "And she's green like you!" He added, with a dumb grin.Ver couldn't help but smile back. He was always so happy about the mildest things, and it was contagious."Now, don't throw away my stuff for some new girl," she joked."I would never dream of it. Get going, Ver," Xen replied. He ruffled her hair before turning back to the chickens.Ver left, going back to the yard of pets. When she passed through the gate, she picked up a halter and lead from the equipment rack along the fence. Emerald was one of their two unicorns, and they usually stayed around the far, wooded corner of the yard. As Ver approached the area, Emerald gracefully stepped out of the trees. She had a clean white coat, an iridescent green mane, and soft pink eyes. The unicorn approached Ver, tossing her head. Ver reached her hand out and placed it on the unicorn's face."Hi, beautiful," she cooed. Ver liked to take care of the pets, and she always fawned over Emerald. What could she say? They were both green and she was endeared by the fact."We're gonna be going on adventures together, Emerald," she said. Ver had no idea if the unicorn understood her or not, but she liked talking to her all the same. She lifted up the halter, already fitted to Emerald's head, and secured it. Then she attached the lead and ruffled Emerald's mane. "Such a nice girl," Ver continued cooing.Ver lightly pulled the lead to have Emerald follow her. Xen had riding equipment, but since she was moving right next door to the herdsman, she planned on buying new gear from him. It was going to be nice to treat her and Emerald with a fitted saddle and handmade tack.She walked, guiding the unicorn, to the teleporter room. Ver had scheduled a time to get the key to her new place from the last person who lived there, right before they were leaving to move themself.Ver went to the control panel of the teleporter and selected the teleporter at her destination. She stepped onto the teleporter, Emerald following her. After a brief delay they were teleported to the village, and Ver stepped off into a simple white room.There was a guard near the door she left through, who nodded at her as she passed. She stepped out onto the street, citizens sparsely scattered around the place. It was getting into the afternoon and people were starting to relax from the day.Ver walked down the street, heading for the first intersection on this road. The person she was buying the place from was a Boarman, and she saw them waiting next to an Ice Dragon Cub that was covered in bags."Hey, Maun." Ver said, waving in greeting."Hi, Ver. You ready to move in?" Maun asked."Yeah. Here's the last of my payment," she replied. She gave them a small bag, glowing with Tenergy shards."Great, thank you. Here's the key to the place. The lot is the house and the yard next to it, all yours." They said, trading the bag for a key. "I've gotta get going, now. I'm moving into a base with some other explorers, north of here. Feel free to drop by!"Maun climbed onto the back of the Ice Dragon Cub and rode off. Ver watched them go for a moment, before turning and continuing down the street. Neli, the herdsman, was in front of his store, carrying in a cage. "Hey, Ver! I'd wave, but..." He said, looking down at the cage."Hi, Neli! You're all good." Ver replied. "Normally I'd offer to help, but I need to get settled in.""It's okay, I've got it. I'll see you around! I hope you like the new place." Neli said. He went in to his store, and Ver continued on to the next building, her house.She tied up Emerald next to the front door before she unlocked it and entered. It was barren, save for a bed, a stove, and two baskets - one of wood, and one of food. They were both fresh. Ver assumed Maun left them there as a gift for her move-in. She picked up an apple from inside and started eating it.Ver really had nothing to bring or set up in her house - she just wanted to come in and see what she was working with. It was weird, being in a house so empty, when Xen's base was so large and full of stuff. Storage, workbenches, furniture, furnaces, bedrooms... such a lively place. This new house felt almost cold to her.But she knew that she needed to give it life, the same way Xen did to her and to Ammar, and to the base he built up from the small building that held his life pod, as well as the graves of others that malfunctioned or were broken by raiders over the years. It took time and effort that paid off well.She was looking forward to accomplishing the same.

XEN'S CRUSH

Xen anxiously paced his room, starting to flatten the carpet where he walked over it. He had been to Schip's a lot, mostly for commerce. He had also developed a huge crush over the many times he visited, and he wanted to do something about it this time.He had picked out one of the nicer outfits in his wardrobe, one that wasn't worn every day and full of dirt and sweat and blood. It was a pair of slightly decrepit overalls, and Xen felt like he looked decent in them. He didn't fix up his hair, because he never did. It didn't look right if he tried to brush it or tie it up.Xen's plan was to go to Schip and cough up to him that he had an awful crush. It felt embarassing, telling someone about a crush like kid. But what other word was there? "Feelings" felt too vague and detached. Crush was what it was: the fluttery feeling, the walking on clouds, the saying dumb shit because you were too distracted looking at them instead of thinking about what you were saying, the thinking about them late at night and not being able to sleep.Xen felt completely ridiculous, a grown ass man in his mid-20s, with a crush.A crush that he was going to admit to.He sat down on his bed and put his head in his hands. Should I even be dressing different for this? Is that too much? Am I overthinking this? Why am I doing this? Xen's mind kept going, racing through thoughts.Eventually he stood up and took a breath. It didn't happen often, but when it came to dealing with people, he found himself holding his breath with anxiety more often than not. He had a hard time knowing what was right and what was too much, and he always hated being too much.He didn't want to be too much for Michael Schip.He needed to calm down. It was completely normal for people to wear different clothes. There were some things Xen needed to buy from Schip, and he planned on trying to strike up conversation after.Xen started to shuffle through his bag one more time, to make sure he had everything he wanted to sell and the money he needed to buy things. Just as the last five times, everything was still in order.I really have no excuse to keep putting this off, Xen thought to himself. With a sigh, he picked up the bag and left his room.Being directly connected to the teleporter room, he did not have to walk far at all. He stepped onto the platform, anxiety bubbling in his stomach as he selected 'Schip's Lab' on the teleporter terminal.The weird, indescribable noise of the teleporter went off, and the teleporter room faded into a painfully bright white. As Xen squinted through it, it faded out to the cold and sterile teleporter room of Schip's ship. The door was open, as it always was, and Schip was sitting back at the far end of the ship terminal, as he always was.The green-haired elf waved at Xen as he walked through the doorway."Long time, no see," he said as he sat up.Xen gave him one of his typical dumb grins. It had actually been a couple of weeks since he last visited."I'm sure you missed me so bad," Xen joked back."I certainly did, my only customer." Schip replied with a wink. "What can I help you with now?"Xen slung his bag down onto the ground and started pulling things out. "I've got plenty of stuff to sell. I've hoarded a lot the past couple of weeks."The two men spent a few minutes exchanging items and shards. Xen had a huge haul from the mining he and Ammar had done while searching for silver, as well as tons of byproduct of caring for the animals in the back yard. Schip was always grateful for more metals, and he could use it with other excess to make some outfits. In exchange, Xen cleared Schip out of Rifter stones and circuit boards, and picked up a couple of the outfits he hadn't seen before.After they closed up the transaction, Xen picked up his newly-heavy bag and put it on his back. With his stomach starting to flutter with anxiety again, he walked over to the far side of the terminal where Schip was once again sitting. He leaned on the side, and with pink just barely starting to touch his face, said, "So, Michael..."Schip gave him a weird look, raising an eyebrow and giving him a half-smile. "My name isn't Michael?" He said, puzzled.That pushed Xen to beet-red blushing. Out of everything he could've messed up, that had to be the most embarrassing. He couldn't stop himself from hiding his face in his hands."My name is Matthew," Matthew Schip continued. There was an obvious tone of entertainment in his voice."I'm so sorry, Matthew," Xen choked out, barely able to talk.Schip laughed. "Have you thought my name is Michael this entire time?" He asked.Xen stuffed his face into his hands harder. He felt so, so bad for remembering the wrong name. "Yes," he squeezed out.Schip couldn't help but keep laughing. "I'm sorry, I really don't want to be mean for laughing, it's just really funny," he managed to get out between laughs.Xen felt like he was going to keel over and die from how hot his face was. No doubt every inch of him was red at this point, and he was completely powerless to stop blushing in his embarrassment.Schip struggled to stifle his laughter, slowly getting quieter and eventually stopping. He let out a huff, sore from laughing.Xen peeked up from his hands to see that Matthew had also turned pink, not having been able to breathe well between his bouts. And Xen was mad that he thought Matthew looked incredibly cute with the flush on him. It didn't help his own flustered state.Oh, god, I just need to go for it - I'm not going to get anywhere if I get hung up on this, Xen thought, half-berating himself. He was flustered and embarrassed but he came here with an intention and he needed to follow through.Xen rubbed his face before finally putting his hands down. He was still blushing but dammit, he was going to get this done."Matthew," he started emphatically. Matthew still had a smirk but the sudden energy made him raise his eyebrows, and he was looking at Xen expectantly. It caught him a little off guard. "Can I - um - could I invite you to have dinner together? Sometime?" he stammered out. Very smooth.Matthew took a moment to deliberate on it, looking away from Xen and towards the ground. The redhead was left, simmering in his own awkward silence as he waited for the response."Hell, why not?" Matthew finally responded. Xen let out a sigh of relief he didn't know that he was holding in."Where will it be, then?" Schip followed up."Well - depending on what you want - I was thinking I could invite you to my place and I could cook dinner, or we could meet up in Cauleb and eat at the restaurant there.""I think it'll be better to sit in and eat somewhere to talk together. I wouldn't want you too exhausted from cooking all day, just for me." Schip answered, with a wink.Xen laughed. "That's a fair point. So... see you in Cauleb on... Saturday?""It's a date.""I'll hold you to it!"Xen started making his way back to the teleporter room, waving a fond goodbye to Schip as he stepped through the doorway. He felt elated, glad that he had stepped up and invited Schip, despite his earlier anxiety. He was even happier that he hadn't been met with rejection.Once again, the teleporter warbled as it activated, transporting Xen now from Schip's lab back to his own base. The familiar, dark walls faded into view, and Xen stepped back into the crowded crafting room.Instead of heading to his room, Xen went to the storage room, needing to drop off and sort away most of the goods he had purchased from Schip.