As Meathead and Piper returned to Cambridge's police station, he was spotted by the grey and brown Brotherhood pony Verne a few blocks away. The pony quickly cantered up to them, and while expecting to hear the clop of hooves, Verne was wearing leather covers over his hooves to muffle the sound.

“There are more super mutants to the west, they're making noise over at the Kendall Hospital,” Verne said, quiet enough not to let his voice carry too far.

“<What's over at the Hospital?>”

“Raider gang operates out of there, they're violent and aggressive to any who've approached. We don't have the manpower to take it out or hold it as a defensible position, but they've been watching us. After you join the Brotherhood of Steel, we might be able to punch a hole through the savages, weaken them, and then send them running. That'd be enough to make sure they leave us alone.”

“<Or get them to mount a counter-strike in retaliation. What do they do?>”

“What do they do?” Verne asked to clarify.

“<Are they picking people off as they go by? Holding up traders? Running guns? Being a menace to society? Fucking kids in the back room? What do the raiders at Kendall Hospital do?>” Meathead voiced with a little more urgency.

“They've been taking people off the street, then sell to slavers,” Verne replied. “They held a deal this morning.”

“What's this about joining the Brotherhood?” Piper inquired.

“They need an extra pair of hands, but once the cavalry shows up, then they'll give the Institute a run for its money, or at least, that's the gist of what I've heard so far, right, Verne?”

“Something like that. What's your interest in Kendall? The Brotherhood is tasked with recovering technology that the Institute's been hoarding away for centuries. We need to make sure it's not abused for the same vile purposes they're using for it now.”

“<I'm interested in old med-tech. Some doctor's books. Medical Journals. It's the biggest hospital in Boston. Just trying to plan.>”

Piper shot Meathead a disparaging look, 'Why them?' she mouthed.

Mouthing back silently, 'You'll see.'

“<Verne, before I get sidetracked again, I need to get into the Cambridge evidence room. A friend from Diamond City asked me to retrieve some old files.>”

“I'll relay the message, I don't see why you wouldn't be able to get back there.” As they quietly retreated, there was nothing more left to do without drawing their attention.

\111/

Inside the police station lobby, Rhys was posted behind the reception desk with a laser rifle resting right on top, aimed at the door. “Look who decided to come back?” He asked, holding one hand to his stomach as he stood up.

“Quiet.” The voice came from the next room over, Paladin Danse wasn't far behind as he and Haylen both entered the lobby as well. The Paladin was relieved it was Nate, then his eyes fell to his traveling companion.

“Verne, report.”

“Mutants moving around to the north of us. Heading West. Our recruit here also needs to check the evidence room for old info.”

“Follow them. If they leave Cambridge proper, turn back. Otherwise, I want info on where they end up.”

“Yes, Sir,” Verne said, the pony cantering back out the door.

“Team, this is Nate, we spoke earlier about him becoming the newest recruit to our recon team. Nate, who's this?”

Meathead turned his hand upwards to Piper, allowing her to introduce herself. “Piper Wright, Reporter for Publick Occurences in Diamond City. I have a few questions for the Paladin that can wait until after introductions are wrapped up.”

“Good, He shows a lot of promise, and with proper guidance, I think he has the potential of becoming one of our best.” The Paladin was pleased with Nate's return.

“<What are we looking for, anyway?>” Meathead asked.

“We'll explain everything in a moment,” Scribe Haylen said, dipping her head back towards Paladin Danse.

“I'm honestly surprised the waster stayed,” Rhys said, rolling his eyes at Meathead.

He would come to regret underestimating both Nate and the Changeling impersonating Nate at that moment later, but for now, “<And miss the sight of your smiling face every morning when I wake up? Wouldn't miss it.>” Staring him down with wide eyes and a crazed grin, Rhys cracked and shook his head away back towards Danse.

“Rhys, that's enough. As for you, you need to understand what it means to be a part of the Brotherhood. We're not soldiers of fortune. We're an army and we've dedicated ourselves to a strict code of ethics. If you intend to stay within our ranks, you need to obey our tenants without question.”

This was the point of Meathead coming in as Nate, he needed to know if this group was what Piper said, a group that could give the Institute a run for their money, or people who think they're soldiers carrying the best guns.

“<I understand,>” Meathead began to say, but Paladin Danse picked up where he left off.

“Then there's no need to give you the long lecture, so I'll get right to the point. I only ask two things from anyone under my command. Honesty and respect. You fall in line, you stay in line. I give an order, you follow it. It's as simple as that.”

Meathead remembered a time when Nate and himself were watching an old war-film on TV, the Drill-Sargent is grilling the recruits fiercely, actively trying to get the maggots to crack under pressure.

Nate says, 'There are people who say they want respect, otherwise they won't treat you with respect. But what they mean is, they want you to treat them like an authority figure, but if you don't, they won't treat you like a human.'

This felt like that scenario, something on the TV triggered Nate to say that, but at the time, Meathead could only yawn like a dog, and look happily up at his master.

“There's one last thing that needs to be said, I'm granting you the rank of the initiate. This is only a training rank...I'm not permitted to grant any ranks higher than that.”

Meathead couldn't tell if there was excitement in Paladin Danse's voice, all because the man didn't know he was a synth underneath. Broaching that subject would be a tough one to corral, but as Meathead stood there, trying to read the person on facial expression and tone of voice alone, it was one of the more challenging conversations of Meathead's life.

“<Sir, thank you, Sir.>” Meathead said, remembering to add 'Sir' at the beginning and end, probing to see their response.

“Thanks aren't necessary,” Danse said, voice uplifted and expression becoming less rigid.

“Ad Victorium, Initiate.” Scribe Haylen said, genuinely happy for another person to be on the team. She still held some reservations, which was normal, but for someone who killed off a horde of ghouls and helped Danse and Verne retrieve the deep range transmitter, she could allow a chance to Nate.

Rhys followed suit, relaying 'Ad Victorium', with significantly less effort. “But he doesn't even know what it means-”

“<To Victory.>” Meathead quickly said, taking the words out of Rhy's and Paladin Danse's mouth. “<It means 'To Victory.>”

Danse nodded, “In our eyes, defeat is unacceptable because we're fighting for the future of mankind.”

“<I was hoping for something more along the lines of 'De Oppresso Liber', but To Victory sounds just as good as the last group who used Ave Victoria.>”

"Oh yeah? And who were they?" Rhys asked.

"<The Nazi's - >," Meathead stopped himself from speaking any further. Paladin Danse intensely glared at Meathead, not in the mood for a history lesson.

“...Our rallying cry is more powerful than any weapon you could ever carry. Remember that.” Danse said, but to the seasoned soldier, other phrases came to mind.

“But for now, Haylen and Rhys both have assignments that need assistance with completing here in the Commonwealth, you're dismissed.”

Meathead was glad he came here, if the real Nate were initiated, then there might've been a fight. Getting a veteran to follow orders from neo-military techno-conservative fascists would be interesting.

Nate and himself didn't appreciate the scope of the Brotherhood of Steel, in return, Paladin Danse only saw them as a person fresh off the street. Meathead was beginning to understand the depth behind the Brotherhood of Steel, but until the cavalry arrived, there was little to base assumptions off of.

\111/

Meeting with Rhys and then Haylen while Piper spoke to Paladin Danse on clarifying a few discoveries on super mutants, Meathead trailed Rhys to the main reception desk where he took up his post.

“Alright, out with it, what's your game?” Rhys asked.

A typical hothead, “<Is that you, John Wayne?>”

“I should kick your ass.”

“<Get up out of the chair and I might let you do it too.>”

Rhys was on his feet in a flash, chest to chest with Nate. “You talk a lot, do you walk like a cowboy everywhere you go?”

“<Only if I can make it back for curfew.>”

“I can usually size people up at a glance, but you...you're different. And it's bugging the heck out of me.” Meathead fought the urge to smile, it was a little intimidation he released into the air.

“You're not the military type, you're a loner.”

“<You sure about that? I got friends in places you wouldn't even imagine.>” Speaking for Nate, Meathead was sure he would laugh about that line later.

“You got what you want, so why stick around? I still can't figure that out.”

“<What, the gun and some caps? That's nothing in the long scope of things. If the Brotherhood is going to have a hand in taking down the Institute, I want in. I told Danse and Verne, they shot my wife and stole my kid, they made things personal.>”

“So you're here out of anger,” The smirk broke on Rhy's face, as if he figured out Nate's intention and the whole scheme of things, “As far as reasons go, that's a pretty good one.” But as long as Meathead was out gathering information on Nate's behalf, Rhy's was far from seeing the larger picture.

“<I'm here because no one else is willing to do the right thing.>”

“I'll cut you some slack since Danse and pony-boy trust you, but if you step out of line or put any of my brothers or sisters in danger, I'll make sure you regret it.”

“<If.>,” Meathead said, biting the top of his bottom lip as he said it.

“Alright, like it or not Rook, one of the most important duties is to keep the wasteland clear of the trash. I'm talking mutants, ghoulies, rad-dogs and raiders, synths, and the occasional Deathclaw hunt. Anything that wasn't here before the bombs that are here now. Right now, priority one is clearing out College Square. The place is lousy with feral ghouls. Seeing as how I'm still down for the count, go take care of them, and don't come back until you get the job done.”

\111/

“Is Rhys still giving you the cold shoulder?”

“<I've met his type before, born into the military, moved around a lot when he was a kid, parents were in the military, I handle a whole platoon of these guys.>” Meathead said.

There were certain patterns Meathead learned to pick up on in people, Nate and Nora had a whole throng of friends coming over every other day, or going out to meet people exactly like Rhys and Haylen.

“If you can handle Rhys, you'd be the first. He lives and breathes the Brotherhood. It's all he cares about, it's his whole family.”

When the wind changed directions that afternoon, the entire police station shifted, dust rained down from cracks in the ceiling. There was ominous creaking from wooden supports as one pillar moaned a while longer than the rest when shifting weight.

“If anything gets in his way, he tends to shove those things aside.” Gesturing around to the filing cabinets around them, she waved her hand. “What exactly were you looking for?”

“<Right before the bombs, there was a task force stationed here gathering evidence on Eddie Winter. If you've seen any newspapers lying around that are still legible, he was freed the day before they fell. But, if not, have you at least been to Diamond City?>"

"No, it hasn't been a priority."

"You should all go there, get your head out of the trenches for a day. There's a Generation Two Synth there with a profile of the man who was on this same task force, Nick Valentine. He asked me to dig up records for him from that case if I was in the area. Last time he was here, he was forced out by ghouls before he could find them.>”

“Well, one of the Brotherhood's most important duties is the recovery and preservation of technology that was lost when the bombs fell, any info from old books or schematics are stored and cataloged by our scribes. Piecing together stories about life from before the war could lead us to prevent another catastrophe like that from happening again.”

“<What did you come to Boston for, aside from the Institute?>”

“Recon Squad Vargus came up with a list when they were here a decade ago, potential sites for artifacts that can be recovered. Based on inventory lists and shipping manifests, these locations should still have these parts if no one's found a reason to use or scavenged them.”

Corvega – x

Boston Airport - x

Fort Strong

Fort Hagen

Cambridge Labs – multiple

Commonwealth Institute of Technology

Boston Public Library

University Point

Malden Tech. Center

Federal Stockpile – x

Hallucinogen

National Guard Depot.

GNR Plaza – x

“<What are the x's for?>” He asked, looking over the list.

“Those are places we attempted to get to but were met with heavy local resistance. Boston Airport was the only place we managed to clear. Nothing there but a few mutants looking for scrap and some mirelurks along the waterfront.”

“Well, Corvega's cleared out, for now, gang turf-war. And there's not much left of the Fort Hagen main base after what I did to it. What happened down at GNR Plaza? What were you looking for there?”

“Broadcasting Equipment, GNR was going to be our first choice for as a FOB, but when we get there, the place was overrun with Gunners. They're entrenched in tight, they've got a working vertibird and a cache of missiles for short-range artillery. Fuck me on where they got those." Haylen covered her mouth for a moment before speaking again. "Sorry, I don't swear much. Especially not in front of the Paladin. There were well over a dozen suits of power armor, but they weren't in pristine condition. Even so, they made getting anywhere near that building extremely difficult. This was a heavy base of operations they had running there.”

"<How did you go in?>"

"We scouted it for two days, saw their weaponry. We knew if we moved fast and struck hard, cut them off from access to their outside weapons, they could be turned against them. But there were landmines. We didn't get close enough to realize until it was too late. After tripping one, all the Gunners knew we were there and were at their posts in a heartbeat. They all didn't run out, so there's definitely a structure of who defends the exterior, and who stays inside."

"How long after the land mine was tripped did the Brotherhood turn back? What happened afterward?"

"We kept going forward, to make it to..." Scribe Haylen made a circle with her finger. "An outer wall surrounding the plaza, tall enough to squat down by and not get your head blown off. We made it there, but there were men on the roof shooting at us along with more coming out of the front doors. There were barricades, sandbags and cement bricks piled out in front of the doors as well. Three of the Knights made it halfway through the parking lot when they started coming out with their suits of power armor. That's when one of the Knights was killed by a missile launched from the roof after that Paladin Danse ordered us to retreat.>

“<What do you know about the Gunners?>”

“They're the most organized mercs in the Commonwealth, but they're still raiders. Did you catch the raider across the street with the rifle?”

“<I saw him, but he hasn't made himself a threat.>”

“He's a lookout, another block west, and two more pop out from the ruins and demand payment from people passing by. They rotate out every six hours or so, but the roads all around the church and hospital are watched. That's the territory, and they stick close to it. Anyone who doesn't pay up gets beaten and sold.”

“<I'll be sure to watch out for them. Do you know who they are selling to, or where the people go once they're sold?>”

“We don't know yet, it hasn't been a priority. But, what we need is your help with the Deep Range Transmitter. It's broadcasting, but something's blocking our signal, so we still can't get in contact with our people.”

“<How far away are they?>”

“They're in Philadelphia, but until they get an update about our status, we're cut off.”

Meathead smirked, but quickly calmed himself, he'd been wondering which city along the East Coast they'd set themselves up in.

“<What's going to happen after you call them?>”

“A chapter of the Brotherhood will be on their way, with enough forces to wipe out the Institute and their synths completely.”

The Brotherhood of Steel was in more than one city, Meathead realized. A chapter is just a part of the whole operation. More than likely, their main forces were in Washington D.C. or spread from Virginia to Florida. Maybe even Michigan or Illinois. With a higher concentration of military bases, stockpiles, armories, along the American East Coast than anywhere in the world, the arsenals left behind were massive.

“<Do you know what might be blocking the signal?”>

“Storms from the Glowing Sea might be the reason, but if that were the case, they'd be sporadic, and even part of a garbled message would be able to get through. I believe something else is broadcasting on the same frequency.”

“<What channel?>”

“Seventy-Two on the VHF. You should be able to pick it up on your Pip-Boy.”

Meathead tapped in the signal key and recognized it instantly. Adjusting the squelch, a scratchy voice on repeat came through.

“This is the Boston Massachusetts Emergency Distress Signal, all residents are to report to near-bye shelter's immediately and await further instruction. This is not a drill, all residents in the Boston and greater Boston areas are to report to designated shelter hubs-”

Turning the volume down, “<This was for the Great War, you're being overridden by the signal.>”

“Can you track the source with your Pip-Boy?”

He could, the piece of machinery on his arm was definitely capable of tracking down the source of radio transmission, but Meathead didn't even need to use it.

The Emergency Distress Signal broadcasts from Trinity Tower, the tallest building in Boston. You wouldn't even need a special Deep Range Transmitter, the equipment up at the top would be superior enough to broadcast everywhere on this side of the Appellation mountains.

With small conversation exhausted, Meathead continued the search through piles of molded folders, checking the labels and serial numbers on faded tags for holotapes, holding papers up to his Pip-boy light, he finally came across the Late Nick Valentine's original copies for the Winter case.

\111/

Ever since leaving the Vault for the first time, Meathead felt as if something was weighing down on his mind, but he couldn't quite place it until seeing Trinity Tower and the Glowing Sea.

It felt like a leech on his brain, sucking away his focus and ability to see and sense emotions. Two giant holes, pocking over his mental map of Boston like a black hole. He said to Nate that Trinity Tower was like a piece of rock that had been sitting in a microwave for 200 years, something you wouldn't want to eat, and is like a charred smoking over-cooked carcass.

One mental block was coming from a skyscraper-filled with dozens of super mutants, the other in a barren sea. Not that Meathead suspected much life around Ground Zero, but being unable to sense anything at all irked the Changeling. The presence was like noticing a blind spot, something Changelings rarely, if ever had.

Outside the police station, the sky was patchwork with grey clouds and rays of light shining down through them.

“For how chatty he was with you, Paladin Danse wasn't exactly a wealth of information for me,” Piper said as they left the Cambridge police station.

“<What did you ask him?>”

“I asked him to clarify what you told me about mutants, getting a quote from the actual source was nice, but anything about the Brotherhood or what they're doing here was like talking to a stone-faced wall. What did the knight and scribe have to say?”

“<They need a legman to help fortify their position and pick off some ghouls closer to the CIT building, then take out the broadcast from Trinity Tower.>”

"I don't know about taking out Trinity Tower, but the College Square is just around the corner. Ghouls are ghouls, and we might as well take them out, save the next guys some hassle.”

“<To College Square then,> Meathead said, gesturing with one hand towards the center of Cambridge.

\111/

Tad and Ricca

For as observant as Verne and Haylen were, they were wrong about the replacements changing out patrol duties, Ricca stayed alert and watched the roads leading from Greygarden to Cambridge, all the way to the USS Riptide where a small gang took over and was holding the bridge as a toll road.

The USS Riptide was a tow barge that was sailing up the Charles with a 40-ton barge behind it the morning of October 23^rd, 2077. When the wave of heat and radiation blasted the storm windows inwards, ripping the house off the top of the boat, the barge was left to ram straight into the Fens Bridge.

The barge platform it was towing was carried forward, ramming into the back end of the USS Riptide, uncoupling. Chains holding down containers snapped as all the weight and momentum were pushed forward. Crashing down, containers rolled off the barge and into the river, but the boat came to a rest right in the center of the river.

While the next bridge connecting Cambridge and Boston was partially collapsed for 30 meters on the north side, both bridges happened to run right past the East and West entrances to the Commonwealth Institute of Technology campus.

It took one look by Meathead, and then later Nate, who would see the Mass Turnpike Bridge damage for what it was, deterrents and choke points.

Anyone who wanted to enter North Boston or the Fens area would need to backtrack to Beantown Brewery- then face Tower Tom's gang (who is now dead and the rest of his gang absorbed into Red's Stockpile gang), or even further all the way south to the Mass Turnpike (Held by Gunners), and then travel West through the suburbs.

Another route involved going north to travel far enough East to Bunker Hill, avoiding Cambridge altogether, or pay tolls to the raider gangs along the Cambridge waterfront, particularly the Fens Bridge.

No matter which way you looked at it, the foot traffic was diverted away from the Cambridge, away from the CIT. The only way to reach it purposefully was to face the raider's toll or go through the ghoul, mutant, and synth-heavy populated areas to reach the old college.

After looking from their maps to the existing roads that could still be used, Nate and Meathead were both sure that the placement of trash gates blocking entire streets, and the destruction of the Mass. East Bridge was intentional, all to keep people from being able to directly access the CIT.

It was clever, but a well-placed explosive would sink the USS Riptide, dislodging the bridge and forcing the rusted gears to bust their teeth, sending the bridge falling back into resting position, opening up the road to-and-from Diamond City. Ninety yards of lumber would be enough to fortify a bridge and rebuild access to the Northside of the Mass East Bridge, opening up the road farther down to the west as well.

But, those plans wouldn't come into action for another six weeks.

\111/

College Square was shaped like an 'H' with six roads leading around the plaza. Three of the roads were blocked, by a bus on the north end, with some wooden pillars slapped together to form a bridge to the roof of the bus, from the adjacent building across the street, narrowing down paths traders could take with their brahmin. The other roads were blocked with sandbags and concrete barriers put in place long ago. The entire square was ripe with stores, a newspaper stand, a bar, laundry co-op, grocery store that had long collapsed in on itself, and access to the College Square Station Metro.

When the sirens rang out, there were over two thousand people within a block radius of the Metro station, but only four hundred people made it to shelter. While avoiding instant death from the wall of fire and concussive blast sweeping through Boston, the radiation blew in like dust to the lower levels, settling on the scared, starving population, outright killing or leading to ghoulification for the rest of the survivors.

Over the years, the ghoul population was whittled down, drawn out by the noise, the gunfire, or even the ground beneath their feet shaking was enough to get ghouls up and moving.

On the same block as the Cambridge Police Station, the partial reason why the raiders didn't move in on the Brotherhood was because of the massive ghoul population less than two hundred feet away.

If any sort of firefight were to break out, the ghouls would come trickling down the street, all on parade, then come up their backside by the time they finished the first wave of trading bullets with the Brotherhood.

\111/

Meathead ran a wide circle around College Square, finding the best location to set up a sniper's nest, on the roof of a newspaper stand that could see straight down five of the six streets, with a partial view of the stairway leading down into the station.

Over forty ghouls were wandering the streets and buildings, singular thoughts keeping them moving in one direction for a while, then back to where they were.

It wasn't until now that Meathead realized he couldn't see as well as he used to. For so long he was with Nate, but even the short times he was away, Nate and Piper were close-by. But without his friend, and with Piper still on the edge of fully trusting the new companion, Meathead could focus, but it made him aware of how alone he was in the Commonwealth.

See in the manner of detecting emotions, he knew where every living thing was within a hundred miles if he truly focused, but it occurred to him now that there was something 'clouding' his vision.

Like black holes, he thought, and the source of this light-absorbing spectacle was coming from Trinity Tower. There were more, but centering his thoughts on those missing gaps in the world made his head hurt. Something he would need to tell Nate, and come up with a plan to deal with.

Meathead didn't like the sense of not knowing where all his enemies where. He knew there was a small army of Super Mutants camped inside, but there was something more to it than mindless aggression. It felt like a weight on the back of the eyes.

Helping Piper across a makeshift bridge, then knocking it down behind them, the duo stood atop the stand in the crowd of mindless zombies with only a few reacting to the noise and shuffling towards them.

Tuning to Diamond City Radio, Travis 'Lonely' Miles was speaking live and local to the Commonwealth.

“This is Diamond City Radio, and I'm your host, Travis 'Lonely' Miles. I'd be lying if I said I was always lonely, I got to speak to my special lady friend again the other day, and she said that as long as I wait for her, she'd come back. I said, 'Well! La...la...la! Lalala means I love you. I'm still sitting in the park, waiting for you, babe. So, please, please, please come home.”

A riveting viola solo and then male chorus keeping time with 'Do-wops', started the intro to “Lalala...(Means I love you)” by the Temptations.

Turning it up as loud as possible, “<Cover your ears.>” Meathead said to Piper. A soft glow came from his eyes, and the music from the Pip-boy was magically amplified, fueling it with more energy and concentration, the noise rocked and echoed throughout the square.

Loud enough to be heard by Verne, scouting three blocks away. Rhys and Haylen both heard it at the same time as well, it took Paladin Danse an extra second to hear the music with growing tinnitus ringing in his ears, but the blank expressions and upturned faces of his subordinates to better hear the noise made the Paladin stop and listen.

In moments, everything sentient enough to come running towards the noise with reckless abandon came spilling out of the woodwork.

Effectively trapped on top of the newspaper stand with ghouls clamoring and banging on all sides, Piper was rigid with fear, suddenly unsure of how well thought out the Changeling's plan was.

“Well, dinner bell's rung!” Piper shouted over the blaring noise of the Pip-Boy, twenty feral ghouls swarmed around them. They clawed and clamored to tear at them, and the perch they placed themselves on shook and swayed, but still stood.

Firing down into the crowd of feral ghouls, they could choose their targets, but their flailing limbs and jerky movements didn't always yield a headshot. With the laser rifle, Danse gave to Meathead, Righteous Authority, the twenty-seven shots at short range were more than powerful enough to sever the dried, shriveled up, dead limbs, or bore holes straight through the skull plate, killing the ghouls and leaving small black divot marks in the concrete behind them.

“How many shots do you have with that?”

“<More than enough,> Meathead said, carrying an ample supply of energy cells to reload the weapon.

“What about those? Ten/eleven-o-clock.” She said, pointing to a Glowing One hunched over and walking towards the rest of the pack.

This Glowing One wasn't aware yet of the fight, it was still shuffling along, but behind it were three more Glowing Ones, and they bumped into each other as they walked down the street, only partially aware that something was around them.

Their ears worked, as Piper fired off seven more rounds at the ghouls crowding the stand with her Sten II Gun, making the Glowing One's twitch with shock, as if they were struck.

Meathead could feel the Glowing Ones approach, they were walking mini-nuclear reactors, while it washed off him like water off a duck's back, but these feral ghouls lived off radiation and were healed by it.

Watching as holes made by Piper's Sten pierce holes straight through ghoul's chests, arms, and heads, only to watch them seal and burn shut as the Glowing Ones came closer and closer.

The Pip-Boy Gieger counter ticked away. “<Piper, stand behind me.> He said out of consideration.

Reassessing his options, and looking twenty steps ahead, there was a steady stream of feral ghouls all coming from the North Cambridge neighborhood, an area that would've been dense with apartments, dorms, schools, churches, and urban housing.

One of the more densely populated areas in the Commonwealth area, while Boston was all offices and corporate buildings, there were many places where it was apartments or homes built above businesses.

But, as much as Meathead knew about being a Changeling, living in Boston, its people, and their emotions, he deftly realized he didn't possess the same strategic planning Nate was taught.

The only logical choices coming to mind were 'Shoot the Glowing Ones,' or 'Shoot everything, but faster.' And now Piper's life was on the line because he thought the best choice to deal with a crowd of ghouls would be to go to the best vantage point and set up a shooter's-nest.

How would Nate get rid of a crowd? He wondered, feeling the urgency rising through his limbs as the crowd of twenty feral ghouls doubled to forty in the last three minutes.

Oh right, Covenant.

The Glowing Ones were healing other feral ghouls, even if they didn't realize it, but well-placed shots or enough lead and holes punched through them did manage to kill the ghouls, then there was a matter of doing it quickly.

Forty-one, Forty-two, the ghouls were appearing from all over the place.

A sniper rifle round cracked the skull of one ghoul, coming from the East, but neither Piper or Meathead could see the shooter.

He could sense where he was, but his target wasn't them.

A drawback to creating a massive fire would be containing the blaze, a second reason came to mind that they weren't boxed in, unlike Covenant. His eyes rolled to Piper and they unintentionally locked, smiling, she smiled back, hoping he had a plan.

Nodding, he did not have a plan, but he was going to get them out of this situation no matter what.

Taking inventory, there was ammunition, but being overrun was their biggest concern. The stand they were shooting out of rocked precariously with the horde of ghouls banging on all the sides, one managing to find a hand-hold and crawl upwards, but before either Piper or Meathead could shoot it in the head, three ghouls from behind grabbed hold of its skin and dragged it back down, where it fell off backward and into the crowd.

Any old buildings support made from timber were dry and rotted enough as they were, an out of control wildfire could take out half of the city.

While the landscape was mostly damp from rain and cold temperatures, almost all the trees still standing were dead and ready to turn to cinders.

A series of quaking shakes of the gunner's nest caused by the feral ghouls, and it sent both of their thoughts to finding an alternative way to deal with the situation.

'Kill 'em All'.

Exterminate the lot of them, but once the words crossed his mind, Meathead wondered the same idea many people on the verge of losing say when they suddenly see the winning chance.

Could I do it? Could it be so easy to do it like this? I always knew I could, but I never thought about doing it this way.

Winning the fight, ending all the feral ghouls lives all at once, but then again, this wasn't a fight neither Piper nor Meathead wanted to lose. To do so meant death.

“<Piper, hold your breath.>” Meathead needed to shout over the sound of her Sten-II firing, ears ringing, she turned a confused face to him and looked with wide staring eyes.

“What?”She could barely hear him, after shooting for a while now, and the compounding cries of the ghouls, along with the constant banging of their fists against the metal, it was hard for both of them to hear each other.

“<Hold your breath!>” He yelled, pinching his nose and inflating his cheeks. While there was a good gathering of ghouls around them, it was two to three bodies deep of a ring of people.

\111/

Meathead inhaled, but when a Changeling inhales, they draw off the life forces around them. In the span of one long breath over ten seconds, every feral ghoul dropped dead.

Piper nearly choked on her tongue at the sight of everything dying around her, the sound of air leaving their lungs in a wave of exhales, groans, and sighs.

She tried to look at Meathead, his entire face was red, and then once everything in a block radius was drained of all life, he doubled-over, tripping and falling off the newsstand and onto the pile of dead feral ghouls.

Barely rolled up on the side with his elbows propped up, he vomited black liquid and shuddered, and gasped, and panted, then dry heaved again, spitting the last of the black liquid and saliva out of his mouth.

“Meathead!” Piper said, squatting down, she let her legs hang over the edge, then she lowered herself down, dropping the last meter next to Meathead. “Are you alright? What was that? What did you do?”

Meathead spat again. Swallowed, then spat twice more, barely getting out any spittle.

“<Magic...I'm fine...I'm fine...>,” He said, getting one knee under him and slowly working his way up to a standing position. “<Wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be.>” He was still wobbling, holding his arms out to balance himself. Wiping his mouth, he smiled and looked up at her, grinning.

“What...happened?” Piper asked,

“<I drained them.>” He spat one last time and swallowed, “<And all this black and blue shit on the ground is liquid emotion, specifically, fear.>”

“What, so these ghouls were scared of us? What do they have to fear?”

“<The ghouls are reacting on instinct, like a lizard lashing out, the last thing on their minds before they died was fear.>”

\111/

Next Chapter: Ch. 51 Maintenance Estimated time remaining: 19 Hours, 51 Minutes