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Reversal of Fortune

by Lucien Chance

Chapter 10: Epilogue: The House Always Wins

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"The odds are always in my favor, don't forget that."

"But what if they aren't?"

"Then I rig them."


The last time he had gone through the portal, it was over in a flash. Just like the way the world ended. There one second, gone the next, replaced by something new and terrifying. This time, however... this time was different.

He was lost in a void for maybe nothing more than a moment, but it could've been ages. He felt a presence and a pressure, like a great power had suddenly turned its eye to him and was watching. Thoughts were brought to his attention, like fingertips on the surface of his mind, a frigid cold that invaded the void. She knew he was back.

Ryan flashed through the portal and landed back on solid ground. He stumbled to his hands and knees and took deep gulps of air. He closed his fists around the piles of red sand that had gathered where he was. The portal closed behind him silently, leaving only silence besides the sounds of his breath. He looked up and surveyed the land.

He was back at Ground Zero, formerly known as the town of Calico. The black people-shaped stains of ash had faded slightly, and the ruins of the homes had progressed further into dilapidation. The area was dark, the horizon in the distance providing the first hints of the sunrise. A filmy red dust covered everything in sight, and the sand, carried in the gusty wind, buffeted his face. He chuckled, glad he now had protection for his arms in the form of sleeves.

He got up slowly, his head swiveling, looking for danger. He checked his Pip-Boy's compass to see if there was any warning she was coming. The display was blank, aside from the map marker for Calico and the cardinal directions. Well, she knew he was back, all he had to do was wait for her to inevitably show her face.

"Back so soon?"

Fuck.

He turned around. Of course she was behind him. He smiled good-naturedly and lifted his hands in a little shrug, doing what he thought was a good job of burying all of his uncertain emotions. He was back on Earth, and the mask was back on. "What can I say? I missed you."

Atë's smile turned predatory. "I didn't realize I made such an impression," she purred.

"I would say you stole my heart, but we both know that what you took was much worse," Ryan said, his grin deepening to match his glare. He turned his body perpendicular to her, so his right side was hidden from her view. His hand reached down and pulled Lucky out of its holster, then he began to channel magic into it, wrapping his power around the bullets but keeping it controlled, unlike his first experiment in the Clearing. "So... I assume you don't want to give it back?" he asked, stalling for time in a way that was totally not obvious.

Atë sneered. "No. Instead, I'm going to suck you dry of whatever you might have left. People like you are what's wrong with this universe anyway, breaking the designs of life just by sheer bullshit." She spat out the words with contempt. "It's my job, and my pleasure, to make sure nobody's too good at breaking the bank around here. You weren't the only lucky one in this backwater husk of a nation, but you were definitely the most lucky. I figured bringing you down a few thousand pegs would be enough to discourage any other Divines from fucking around with my unlucky planet, but I guess some just slip through the cracks. By the way," she added on, striking a thoughtful pose, "still don't want to tell me who your parents are?"

Despite feeling like he had added enough power to his bullets, he carried the conversation on, waiting for a more opportune moment to fire. "My parents were settlers in California. Jericho and Sarah were their names, and I wasn't able to see them except in photographs and in writing on wooden crosses. They couldn't be more human if they tried." It was time for him to discard the joking mask. He could tell she was waiting for him to make the first move, but he wasn't going to shoot until he had some starting advantage. And he had a something of an idea.

"Well it's a shame I don't believe you. Nobody's that lucky just by coincidence." She sighed and rolled her neck around in a circle. "I guess it doesn't matter in the end, I'm still going to kill you, and then maybe kill the rest of your Mojave as well. I think it would be ironic if I cursed New Vegas to be the unluckiest city on the continent."

Ryan's eyes narrowed.

"Oh, don't like that, hun? Too bad. I think I will do it after all, regardless of how much fun it might be to watch everyone die from 'unnatural causes', I think doing it just to piss you off might be even more worth it." She giggled and crossed her many arms. "I guess that's enough stalling then, time to get to it. How do you want to die?" she asked.

Not quite the phrase he wanted, but he'll go for it. "I'm not dying today. You know why?"

"You're probably just gonna feed me some bullshit excuse about going back to your home or something, but let's hear it. I'm in no rush," she said dismissively with a wave of her arms.

"Because I brought backup." He smirked, seeing the goddess' smile drop. "Now!" he yelled, looking beyond her.

The second-biggest bluff he'd ever pulled, right up there next to convincing Legate Lanius to fuck off right before his Securitrons came in to destroy his Legion. Atë's head twirled around, several of her arms ready to blast anything behind her, while the others immediately pointed at Ryan and fired a bolt of dark purple energy.

He lifted his left arm and braced it in front of his body, like he was about to ram a door with his shoulder, and a thick barrier materialized in a dome around him. The shots Atë fired ricocheted off of his defenses harmlessly and Ryan dropped the shield. He took a firm step forward, just as Atë was turning back around to see him miraculously still alive, then raised Lucky to aim directly at her chest.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

The gun popped bullets as fast as Ryan could pull the trigger. After the first shot, his hand snapped to grasp Lucky. The recoil felt like something he would expect from an anti-materiel rifle, not his normally-stable revolver. The salvo finished, he held his glare at Atë, expecting her to fall over from her wounds. Despite the lack of blood, the shock on Atë's face betrayed her injuries.

She smirked. "Well, it looks like old dogs can learn new tricks!"

And Ryan's hopes shattered.

Along with multiple ribs, when she suddenly flashed forward and kicked him in the chest.

He slid back across the dusty landscape, twenty, thirty feet, then stopped. He gasped for breath, but found none. He coughed once, violently, and felt another crack in his chest. Flecks of blood flew from his mouth and came back down to land on his face. His eyes wide with pain, he grabbed for a Stimpak in his duster.

"Ah, ah." Atë was suddenly above him. A boot stopped his hand from reaching into his pockets, then it pinned his arm to the ground. "What a surprise that was! I didn't think anybody on Earth would have the sort of potential to wield magic, but I guess if anybody could, it'd be you, hmm? It was a good try there, but you failed." She reached a hand out to where they were before she kicked him, and Lucky suddenly appeared in her hand. "Pretty," she said, appraising it.

"Well, looks like that's it then. Guess I'll keep this around as a souvenir, not like I'd have any need to use it." She leveled it with his head. "Except now, of course. Irony is one of my favorite things after all, and we have a double helping here. Killing you with your own 'lucky' gun, and you dying, just like all the rest of those 'villains' that you fought for the good of the Mojave."

She pulled back the hammer. "Anything else to add on, sweetie? You look a million miles away."

Such plans for Vegas... There's so much I could have accomplished. So much I could have done to make a nation. So much I could have done to reform the entire Wasteland. Restore America to its former glory... His brain lit up and made the connection like a spark of lightning. This must be what it felt like. The Think Tank, Daniel, Elijah... Ulysses. They all had designs for the future. And now I am going to die, just like they did. Plans to never be realized, the Wasteland never to benefit from the knowledge I had.

A barrier broke in his mind. Despite the pain he felt in his body, his mind felt clearer than ever. In that moment, there was no Ryan or Christopher. There was just him, and he wasn't about to die.

The Courier's head snapped up to stare Atë in the eyes. Then he spoke one word. "No."

And then his world exploded.

Wind whipped around him with the fury of a hurricane, tossing dirt and debris everywhere. He felt himself slowly rise into the air like a string attached to his back was pulling him up. The skies grew dark as lightning flashed in storm clouds above him, but no rain came down. He stopped ascending and looked around, his eyes filled with rage. Atë was on the ground before him, staring in awe, seemingly unable to move.

He floated down to where she weakly stood, his feet touching the ground just before her. The world returned to normal, the wind dying down and the clouds retreating. As he approached, he felt the bones in his chest knitting themselves back together, like no damage was sustained at all. Atë was still frozen in place, her eyes not breaking contact with Ryan's.

He slowly moved his arm out to the side. Atë followed his motion, eyes stuck open by terror. Lucky flashed into existence in his hand, and his softly closed his fingers around the familiar weapon. He slowly spun the revolving cylinder and withdrew all the bullets but two. He closed the cover of the cylinder with a soft click, then pulled back the hammer.

He rolled the gun down his arm, spinning the cylinder and causing the positions of the bullets to be unknown to either of them. "Let's see how lucky I still am," he said without emotion.

He pointed the gun at his head and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

He slapped the cylinder again, pulled the hammer before it finished its motion, and fired without any hesitation.

The gun flashed and the bullet tore through her leg. She cried out in pain, falling to a knee. She looked back up at him, unable to form any words or make any noise other than grunts of pain. "Now you want me to show sympathy. To show mercy." He tilted his head sideways questioningly, pushing Lucky's muzzle against her forehead.

She couldn't nod, but he could see the answer in her eyes plain as day. He pulled back the hammer, the soft click making her wince.

"No."

He pulled the trigger.


It's a real shame you can't really kill a god. There's all sorts of ways you can disable one for a while, but they always come back, sooner or later. Maybe by eradicating their source of power you can make them too weak to do anything at all, but how could I get rid of misfortune in the world?

The Courier took a look at his Pip-Boy screen. Stats. S.P.E.C.I.A.L. "Luck: 10 (+)"

Right back where he liked it.

The sun had begun to rise. The great orb was making its way up the horizon, same as it always did. He couldn't help but feel a little underwhelmed by it now, though, after seeing the rise of the sun in Equestria, with the town of Ponyville beginning to bustle underneath its rays. All he had to look at was the dusty expanse of the lonesome road back to New Vegas.

As he walked off, a song came on the radio, one he had never heard before. It didn't sound like something that his world produced, even. But it made him think about where he was going. If New Vegas was able get along with just Yes Man for a few days, maybe it would be able to get along without him for longer?

With the data his Pip-Boy map had, maybe there was a chance he could get the Transportalponder! to take him to a better place. He could really use a vacation.

Next Chapter: Author's Notes Estimated time remaining: 12 Minutes
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