//------------------------------//

'Riding Down the Highways, Goin' to a Show
Stopping on the Byways, Playing Rock'n'Roll
Gettin' Robbed, Getting Stoned
Gettin' Beat up, Broken Bones...
It's a Long way to the Top if You Want to Rock and Roll...', AC/DC

\111/
Meathead's limbs ached, a chilling pain that spread from the center of each mass, then spread out to his exoskeleton. Rubbing one hoof against the other caused skin to crumble and chip, exposing cracks and causing him to bleed.
Even with the Radaways flushing Nate's system, he was still heavily dangerously radiated. A stinging-burning intense pain like jabbing, stabbing needles puncturing his arms, penetrating his bones, ripping apart his lungs that felt like they were filled with glass. His arm, bound in changeling resin, and Windigo-tainted Deathclaw hide was bubbling.
Nate was cooked, and his skin was peeling off from the worst sunburn you could imagine. He'd been partially awake during the trek back, but in no shape to even speak. 'Technically conscious' are the right words to use to describe Nate's state of being, otherwise he was laying there in pain.

An hour later they peeled away the outside edge of changeling resin around Nate's shoulder, and then lifted up around the edges of the deathclaw hide. Hancock watched Meathead's expression as the changeling examined Nate's injuries, the left side his face pulling back, nose flaring, baring teeth, cringing at the sight.

“<Damn...! His skin is melting.>"
"Is he gonna lose his arm?" Hancock asked. Meathead looked up and to the skies, smelling the flesh.
"<Yes. It wont last much longer.>" Meathead was veering off course, Hancock grabbed Nate's torsoe, helping Meat Meathead's back, shocking some nerves awake.
"Then we just keep talking to each other, then. Keep Nate still, and just keep talking to each other. It'll keep our minds busy." Hancock replied, looking back down at Nate. "He's really not going to enjoy this next bit. When I turned into a ghoul. The whole skin...thing...was like sitting in a broiling oven for eighteen hours, wandering around the Glowing Sea produces...questionable results."
"<I throw him inside a changeling pod, and it'll pull radiation out of his system. We get to hope for the best.>"
"Can you use magic yet, are you good to go?"
Shivering, Meathead exhaled and gasped. Shaking his head teeth chattering, the chills were wracking through his body, making every step unbearable and strenuous. "<No. My head's going to burst. Looking upwards at my horn is enough to cause a migraine.>" His limbs were aching too, far more than ever.
"Sweet emotion, God I could use any amount of drugs right about now, don't worry I'd share! That'd get you going. Hot to Trot!" Hancock stammered, redoubling his pace to move faster. He kicked up his heels, but groaned, the ghoul was limping ahead, bruised and sore from walking out of the Glowing Sea, but alive.
\111/
Approaching Lower Roxbury, South of Boston, they were coming to rows of dilapidated two story buildings, homes, apartments, storefronts, faded ads, and the sides of streets lined with cars and blown around debris.
Meathead grit his teeth and chewed at the inside of his mouth, ignoring the weight of his friend on his back, the hunger in his stomach, and the feeling of ice water spreading through his veins. Meathead said, "<We're being hunted.>"
The ghoul froze and looked out ahead of him, readying his rifle and raising his guard. "How many? Where? How far off?"
"<There's a ->" Meathead shook his head, trying to get a read on the small atmospheric changes in the air. <That can't be right.>"
"You psychos really went and did it; Didn't you?" The arching voice came, it was bitter full of arvarice, and the voice wanted to find them.
Where are you?" The voice was close, two blocks away, rounding a storefront and kicking rubble and slanted bits of concrete sidewalk out of the way with her hooves.
"There you are!"
Her beheaded-Medusa cutie-mark, red coat, and magenta iris, horn glowing blood-red as everything was pushed out of Athena's path from small bits of dust and pebbles, to cars and bricks all being shoved out of her way like a bulldozer.
"<Athena?>" Confirming it was her emotions, it felt like Meathead's legs and shoulders were being held in place, he tried moving, until he realized what type of pressure force he was moving against. His body was halted by Athena using magic to drag him around.

"You killed an Equestrian Windigo. Now why did you have to go do that?”
“<My friend here is dying so I would like to keep this conversation on the road,>”
“Before you go and do something stupid like doing that again, the other Windigo would like to speak with you. Now.” “<In case you haven't noticed, my friend's dying here! >”
“I've got eyes! But you clearly didn't see the signs that the Windigos were keeping the whole Commonwealth in the fucking dark! They were keeping people from finding us! Don't you get it!? There's too many damn threats in this world, and all we're looking is to be left alone.” Athena said, “But the only one smart enough to do something about what's happening in the Commonwealth is Mona, she's at the waterfront, waiting for you.”
“<Kinda busy keeping Nate from dying.>”
“That wont be an issue if you come with me right now.”
“<...?>” Meathead said, biting his lip and feeling the tightness in his back where Nate was placed.
“What?” Hancock asked, missing what he said.
“<Athena, what do you mean, that wont be an issue?>”
“Come with me, and there's a good chance should Mona snap her fingers and put Nate back together where the right bits and pieces should be, given what's left. Keep on walking and you can kiss Nate goodbye, but I'm still taking you to Mona.” “<And her offer?>”
“That's her's to give.”
“Then lead the way,” Hancock said,
“Sorry, Hancock. Party's full, we're taking the express route. Meathead, I figured out that party trick you showed me.” In two loud air snaps, like the cracking of whips, two small wormholes sucked all the air in around it for a single instant to create red portals. Meathead, Nate, and Athena all disappeared, leaving Hancock holding his gun, bereft of of where they went. He looked to the Boston skyline, to Trinity Tower, the second tallest to Mass Fusion. “Damnit,” Hancock said, feeling the energy return to his legs and the lack of presence weighing down on him. Alone, he picked up his pace to a slow jog, feeling left behind and far from the action.

\111/

Unlike Meathead using his own magic to teleport, being teleported by someone else made him all the more aware of how weak his magical skillset was. After draining himself fighting the Windigo of the Glowing Sea, he felt like he was being carried the entire distance, fluidly, the weight of Nate was off his back, then set back on top of him in the few seconds where every sense was overwhelmed with a sense of being thrown like a fast ball, but able to land on his hooves the moment they arrived. The buildings were tall in every direction around him, but to the East, the shoreline was only a block away. Postal Square. It took him a few moments to realize what intersection they were at, the last time Meathead was here, he was cruising in the backseat of Nate's car, looking out the window.

The historical brick buildings were awash with building debris, old barricade facades, and ocean erosion creeping upwards, There were signs of people come through here often and recently, but now all deserted overnight. All that remained was a supermutant on a crucifix, strung up with metal cables, pulled so tight against the skin it was leaving purple bruises in the skin, like a snake coiled around and around, wrapped in layers and sucked into the flesh until the rest of the skin buldged out. Signs of a fight, a surprise attack on a group of super mutants, slaughtered here in Postal Square. The others laid dead, shot and cut down. “Mona's this way.” Athena said, leading them to a waterfront park adjacent to the plaza. Mona the pony-sized Wendigo, was staring at a object out in the bay. She had darker blue, almost black, fur. were an extension of a face plate protecting her forehead and eye sockets.

She was from Equis, quadrupedal in nature, but she was standing on her rear hooves to look even further across the water.

When she turned she spoke, “Of Constant Sorrow.... I Find Myself..., you however, are quite likeable for a changeling, you realize that, don't you?” Athena raised Nate off Meathead's back, bringing him closer to Mona. “The stability of thousands are put at stake.” She tilted her head, and her eyes glowed white. “The ghouls no longer contained from the Glowing Sea are already pouring out, and hundreds of them have wandered towards me to now remain under my control, making my herd that much larger. So I am to offer my gratitude.” Bandages and wrappings around Nate's arm were undone in Mona's magic, everything suspended in the air. The deathclaw skin and hand, the salvaged radiation suit, Nate's own flesh and muscle were unraveled and spread out like a spider making the edges of a web.
“We need to come to an agreement on how to keep the herd number stocks up. I can't have synths, Meathead, there's no emotion. These mutants the Institute I feed on are loathe of rage when they do not have an outlet to quench their laborious anger.” Mona stretched Nate's arm muscles and nerves, blood vessels, shattered bones, and spread them out down along this web, everything down to the marrow to Nate's shoulder-joint, his blood and DNA were on display for everyone to see. “When we're finished with our conversation, you will kill Super Mutant's who've ascended in intelligence beyond my control. They plan their own raids, kill who they want, are more vicious, and are getting out of their pens. Kill the Alphas that stand above the rest, or slaughter them all, I celebrate their deaths with as much jubilee as you. Meathead and Athena watched as Nate's finger and arm bones were reknit,
“I want ponies, Meathead. Anything worth fighting over anymore amounts to a bloated corpse attracting us gulls. I want fresh meat, but you need it. There's more. You and I are alike in that we need emotions to survive, There's ones who wont do as I say. It may surprise you but I've kept communities out of mutant's perception out of their sight, out of mind. A human growing up with a healthy fear of the world...to never trust mutants...to always fear is much more simple.” The deathclaw arm and hand unraveled as well. The changeling resin unbinding, skin fibers down to a single thread. Broken, black, infected, burnt, shards of bone, melted skin, and bad blood were discarded as Mona pulled from what was available. Nate's forearm and wrist was mangled and shredded, but everything was pulled out to fine thread fibers, then coiled, and re-knit together. The claw was disassembled, the arm, the wrist and palm, rebuilding Nate's own arm and hand. Like a needle pulling tiny threads, with the percision of a spider weaving together, the deathclaw and Nate's arm were seamlessly fit together from the skin of the shoulder meeting hard-as-leather shell.
“The weak inherited the Earth, lo that is a truth, the truly weak and pathetic inherited the Earth while all the good, strong men died. There aren't many like Nate left. It's a shame you can't make a human like that anymore, we just get to piece together and build with what's left.” The spiderweb of nerves and blood were all bundled up again, his hand and fingertips were thick and descended down into the deathclaw limb. From the shoulder down, his arm was thicker and hand larger, and his fingers were fat like overstuffed sausages. His fist was the size of a cinderblock and still wickedly sharp claws at the fingertips. “Do this for me, and Nate won't unravel. Athena, you've kept tabs on the mutants who need to be removed from this world. They become stationary after gaining a following of mutants behind them, and are easy to locate; Like packs of wolves sticking to their own territory.” Mona looked Meathead up and down, head gaze from the tip of his horn to his hole covered chitin hooves.
“<Why not kill me while I'm weak and my friend's on the verge of death?>”
“You're a predator, Meat.” Mona stated, “You killed a member of my race: I feel threatened by you. I would be remiss if I didn't deal with a threat.”

\111/

Flying was the last thing Meathead wanted to push himself through, but his mind was on the giant tasks of a short list, so flying didn't bother him. The meeting with Mona, Athena, and Nate's departure with Athena was rolling around in the free space in the part of his brain not busy staying alive in the Glowing Sea. Athena and Nate left North to deal with a mutant named Hammer, Mona sent Meathead south to deal with Savage. He and Nate were tasked with killing several intelligent mutants, but this was something he needed to take care of now, or it would never get done. It'd been biting him in the ass ever since he killed the Wendigo of the Glowing Sea, now he could feel a storm of emotion on the horizon coming towards him. Him specifically. It felt like the announcement went out, and he was the unknown force of nature that killed an even bigger monster. Seems that Athena and Mona weren't the only ones to notice they killed a Wendigo and coming to investigate. Emotions were funny like that, but he felt like a satellite dish taking in all the confusion, worry, and mistrust, and sending out pride, heroism, and happiness.

The Glowing Sea beneath him, narrowing down the rogue scientist's location closer to the epicenter of Ground Zero than Nate or himself would've first originally thought.

He had no idea where his friend was right now. Mona was feeding off Nate, hiding him. With Athena, but the mare was straddling a greater line he was sure he began to see. Athena could find people and ponies just as easy as he could.

She could do it alot faster than him, too.

\111/
On the southern side of Ground Zero was the steep rolling mountains of the Medfield State Forest, Meathead felt a small blip on his emotional radar of paranoia, worry, anger, mistrust, and boredom. It seemed much more on par for a rogue scientist on the run from a institution known for sending out teams of emotionless killing machines, and kept on the course all the way to the steps of a small cave with a collated metal roofing acting as a door, with rags and sand bags around the edge. Coated in pine tar, the entrance was sealed as well as it could be, but fairly obvious from the footsteps left in the dirt, that something was living here.

Meathead drew in a breath and then exhaled, picking up his hoof and rapping it against the metal siding, he shouted out, "<Vault-Tec. Calling!>"

There were stings of metal cans strung up around the door to act as chimes to alert whenever something came into the cave. Meathead lifted his hoof and shook one, hearing the marbles and metal bearings inside rattle and shake. "<Vault-Tec. Calling,>" He repeated.

There was movement at the back of the cave, heavy footsteps, and the tell-tail sound of a ray-gun powering on. A patch of dirt crumbled away, a rock was removed to see the outside, and two dark amber eyes stared at Meathead in his prone Changeling form.

"Hold it, take it nice and slow..." The rogue scientist said, easing out of his protective rock cover. Instead of any protective suit, stood a super mutant, dressed in a stained, white tattered shirt, brown stitched pants, wearing glasses with cracked lens. "No sudden moves..." Behind him, a protectron and turrets were wired up and ready to defend the rogue, in a place where all other forms of technology and human existence was barren. "I don't know what you are, but you're from the Institute, aren't you?! So where's Kellogg? Huh? Trying to sneak up on me while you distract me?" The mutant shouted, "Well it's not going to work!" The scientist focused on Meathead, finger on the trigger.

"<Easy! Easy, Kellogg's dead. This is his magnum right here.>" Gesturing to his saddlebag, he didn't move, waiting on the scientist's reaction before attempting any magic or movement.

"I'm not stupid, I knew they'd send him after me."

"<Here, take a look for yourself. He's dead,>" Meathead repeated himself again, slowly drawing the gun up, and holding it by the barrel, he passed it off to the mutant.

"Dead? He's dead? Don't you lie to me!" He said, gripping the magnum and aiming it at Meathead. The gun was empty, but Meathead failed to mention anything about it being loaded.

"<Kellogg was dragged to Goodneighbor, and then hung. His body's still swinging in the breeze unless someone's cut him down,>" Meathead said.

"Kellogg was ruthless...There's a reason why the Institute used him to do their dirty work for so many years. I knew they'd send him after me; tried to prepare for it. But, still wasn't sure I'd make it. I knew about the Glowing Sea and the Windigo, how once I disappeared I'd be all but impossible to follow."

"<We put down the Windigo,>"

"I noticed the moment it was dead, like a breath of fresh air passed over the whole landscape. So, you're responsible for that too?"
"<Yes.>"

"The Institute Unicorns kept an active tracking log of all 107 Windigos across the continent, and you just killed one of them. You do realize that you've only doomed yourself further by drawing that type of attention."

"<What kind of attention?>"

"Windigos exhibit thaumatic properties much like a black hole. From the observable outside, entire regions from satellite scans go dark. What you did was just wipe the fog off a map and shined a light on the place that was once completely dark. It may take a few days, it may take a month, but eventually, someone will notice that the counter dropped from 107, to 106.
A scan of the entire continent using old pre-war computers and satellites, someone will find the little blip of a map that makes up the Glowing Sea and come to investigate. Not just the Institute, but anyone outside the Commonwealth and beyond with the technological capabilities. If Kellogg's dead, the Windigo's dead, and you found me, what do you want?"

"<Like who?>"

"Like the Brotherhood of Steel, the New California Republic, the damn Warlords from the West, the Empress! Anyone with enough brain cells to rub together to see that there's a whole chunk of wasteland up for grabs now that the only thing preventing incursions, is dead!"

"<How many Windigos are in the Commonwealth?>"

"There were three. Maybe you noticed the one in Trinity Tower?"

"<Yes. Where's the last one?>"

"It roams around, as Windigos are want to do. There are eight in New York, but that hasn't changed in many years. One in Providence...a few around Philidelphia, and one left in D.C. More to the north, more to the south, this planet was a beacon for Windigos before and after the Great War. Killing one is enough to draw unwanted attention."

"<Like who?>”
“The Brotherhood of Steel.”
“<Tell me about the Institute, first. Then you can tell me what you know about the Brotherhood of Steel later. I want to How to get into the Institute, how you got out, I need a map. I need to know how many resources, guns, synths they have at their disposal, how many they can deploy, chokepoints, death traps, bombs, mines, any chambers they could turn into kill zones, turrets, unicorn mages, any children they would arm, experimental weapons they might test out on an invading force, and who's in charge of what in the Institute. I need to know how people are going to respond in an emergency. I need to know the layout, top to bottom, offices, living quarters, labs, assembly areas, gyms, monitoring stations, maintenance, closets, water, energy and electrical, food, stairwells, elevator shafts, but lastly, I need to know why you left.>"

"That's asking a lot."

"<All you have to do is visualize it, and I can transfer the memory into mine. It's a magical process, all I need from you is to allow me to go poking around in your head.>"

"You're crazier than I am if you want to get into the Institute." The rogue scientist rambled, agitated at the thought. "Are you insane? Never mind how nearly impossible that is, if you did get in, it would certainly end in your immediate death. What reason could you have for possibly taking this kind of risk?" Paranoia from lack of any sort of contact was identifiable in his voice, it'd been quite a while since the scientist spoke to anyone at all.

"<My friend was hurt, he's recovering now, but until then, I'm helping him finish what he started.>"
"A friend? You're...whatever you are, you must be a mutated pony spat out by the Glowing Sea...You're doing all this for a friend?"
"<He's risked his life to protect me, and others, I'm returning the kindness.>"
"I can get you in there, but I want two things in return."
"<What do you need?>"
"Yes. Before I made my escape, I was working on a serum that would serve as a cure for my...condition. I wasn't able to bring it with me. It's still in my lab...and well, look at me, I need it." the rogue said, finally a de-escalation in his voice could be heard.
"<What's the second?>"
"For you not to kill me."
"<I was never here to kill you; others might brand you as a traitor, or a menace for being from the Institute after all this is done and over with. It's those you need to worry about, but for now, I want as much information about the layout and defenses of the Institute you can remember.>"
"How will this work?"
"<Think of the Institute, and close your eyes.>"

\111/

From the surface is ten feet of dirt and pipes, followed by the sewers running directly through the CIT campus. Fifteen feet from the surface was the outer concrete shell of the Institute. Beneath five-feet concrete, there was a magical-electric current surrounding the entire Institute in a perpetual-shield powered by the main nuclear reactor, preventing any unscheduled teleportations in and out of the Institute. From 20ft. below the surface, to 80 feet was the entirety of the Institute. Spreading out for five hundred feet in every direction from the center, the bunker complex housed offices, residental areas, meeting rooms, recreation, water purification, classrooms, workout centers, and storage rooms spread between the first, second, and third floors. The Institute was circular in design, with the center concourse being open to allow subterranean trees and fauna to grow in a terrarium park-like setting. There was an elevator that lead to the Institute Director's office, only accessible from either the main concourse, or the teleportation Molecular Relay on the first floor. Each floor was a ring, with many windows all looking inward to the terrarium.

Synths and scientists were always walking the hallways, most always armed, except for at night in their residential areas. Above the doors to each stairwell access point on each floor was a laser turret built directly into the wall. Above the residential access areas were more turrets, with a noticable lack of turrets in the reception, meeting, office areas, primarily patrolled by synths and occupied by humans and ponies during 'working hours'.
Earth ponies were taught math, science, engineering, and theory, being the number crunchers for formulas and putting their brain to use when they lacked horns or wings, or put to use physically expanding the Institute underground.
Pegasus were taught to cultivate water, disperse chemicals and test biological components on organic matter, electrical, wiring turrets and lights in hard to reach places.

Each Institute unicorn pony was trained to cast a magical bolt of energy, allowing them to stun or incapacitate foes. They were taught to lift and manipulate multiple objects which he, and finally, expand any relevant arcane studies to become more powerful as an individual.

On the bottom floor, at four intervals around the circular floor, was an access point to the four main labs. At the Northwest section was the Advanced Systems Lab. Workshops where Institute weapons were developed, or imbued by unicorns to add to the Institute's arsenal. While the weapons imbued by unicorn magic are immensely powerful, they need to be recharged every few days to retain their properties, otherwise the entire weapon's integrity quickly degrades. These weapons were outfitted to the Synth army, over four hundred synths waiting, all ready to activate at the push of a button. There were only twenty scientists and ponies in this section.

Connected to the Avanced Systems area was the Reactor Core, operating on Auxiliary Generators, the new main reactor core was missing a crucial component, the Beryllium Agitator, to cold-start a nuclear reaction. This would supply the Institute with all its energy needs, and provide unlimited electricity for the next several millennia. This fact was well known throughout the Institute, as the complex was occasionally prone to blackouts due to power draws.

\111/

Next to the Advanced Systems Laboratory, was the Synth Retention Bureau. With the development of advanced synthetic humans, many developing complex personalities, came the desire to escape servitude and slavery under the Institute's rule. Less than ten people working in this area, they were responsible to limit synths ability to think freely, act, and feel independent of outside commands. The purpose of the S.R.B was to wipe templates and repurpose the synths after being recovered by coursers. Ponies working in this section disliked working for the director, Justin Ayo, because of the subservient attitude that was expected of them.

Next to the S.R.B. was the lifeblood of the Institute, the Institute Robotics laboratory, connected to Old Robotics chambers that were sealed up with combat robots left in the dark to conserve energy, all robots and synths were created in this grand chamber. The assembly line was able to produce one synth every hour, before being sent to processing to be uploaded memories and task functions. Thirty people and ponies worked here, producing synths all day to be sent to the surface or work elsewhere in the Institute.

Finally in the Circle was the Bioscience Division, where most of the food was grown, and non-unicorn ponies worked. Creating a perfect temperate climate that was suitable for optimum year-round growing conditions. Dozens of people, ponies and synths worked in this area. Connected to the Bioscience lab was finally Brian Virgil's FEV Lab. Leaving a trail of destruction in his wake, a fire was lit and synths were destroyed in his escape attempt to divert attention and draw personnel away from their stations for the brief moments Brian Virgil needed to get through the Advanced Systems lab, to the reactor, and finally to the access terminal which would only allow access to anyone during an emergency.
This fire he cause released a electromagnetically locked door opening to the Public Works Maintenance area, and let him swim his way to freedom through a flooded tunnel leading to the Charles River.
As Brian Virgil breached the surface, he pushed himself in a circle, looking around for the shore, shocked that he was finally outside for the first time in his life. Adrenalin coursing through his veins, he saw the tall dilapidated buildings around him, the border to the river, and the Ticonderoga building to the North of him.
\111/

Meathead sat there, face trembling. He and the Railroad were literally a stone's throw away from discovering the emergency access backdoor to the Institute. He saw everyone, all their faces, and counted, he saw the hallways and the offices, labs and cubicles, meeting rooms, and Brian's memories and emotions bleeding through to everything he remembered.

Gasping like he was drenched in icy-cold water, he saw Brian escape, and the weight of emotion tied to that specific memory. Meathead now knew the layout of the Institute, their forces, their access points, everything he would ever need to mount an offense against the Institute. One hundred and sixty. The number rang out in Meathead's brain. One hundred and sixty people make up the entire Institute. Four hundred synths ready at a moments notice, hundreds of protectrons in sealed, dark rooms that could be retreated to and powered on. Meathead salivated at the thoughts running through his mind. All the knowledge, all the risk.

\111/

"<Could this serum be manufactured to reverse the FEV in other mutants? Can you make more?>"

"In theory and practical manufacturing, yes. Absolutely. But... In application... highly unlikely. The FEV mutates the body's cells, altering cognitive functions and thought processes. After time, humans affected by the FEV exposed to a counter virus could potentially revert back, but...there's no data of what might happen. All the results would be venturing into uncharted waters. Time affects mutants as well, their muscular stature, their frames, bone density, brain neurons...the list goes on and on. Everybody that's been living above ground for the last two centuries is already drastically more prone to FEV and more likely to survive the transformation process, with more radical effects to their psyche and conscious. Older mutants gather and retain information better, and may be more suitable to testing, but while as I dosed myself with a modified version, I'm a misnomer in my own data. If you're planning what I think you are, then yes, it could turn humans back to normal, but they might not remember who they were, let alone return them to exactly who they were before being exposed. Like I said, this is all uncharted territory. If you manage to get my serum, I will spend the rest of my life creating the cure, perfecting it, working on it, tweaking it, until every mutant is turned back into human. I am part of the cause that allowed super mutants to keep on being created, unleashing genocidal monsters on humans. I deserve to die, but not until I've finished the serum to counter the FEV."

"<Since your escape, they probably sealed the escape tunnel off, how do Synths normally get in and out of the Institute?>"

"Not many people know about it, but the unicorns were able to guide the Institute in creating a shielded teleporter. Without the keyed signature, you're not getting in or out. If you do get in without the key, you get shuttered to a prison cell. Certain ponies can attune themselves to it. They call it the Molecular Relay. I don't know all the science behind it, but it works. Now, you ever seen an Institute Courser?"

"<I've heard about them, never seen one up close. Wait...did you say certain ponies?>"

"Yes. But, I see your horn. Trying to get information from an Institute Unicorn, if you caught one, they could easily trick you into attuning your teleportation matrix to the wrong frequency, and you'd never know. You'd be shuttered to the prison cells as fast as you could blink. Without the coursers chip, you're out of luck. The Coursers, they're hunters, if someone like myself goes rogue, a synth goes missing, operations go wrong, a Courser is dispatched. They're very good at what they do, and are imbued with magical energy to make them resistant to just about everything you can throw at it. You'll have to kill one if you want to get inside the Institute."

"<I'm guessing they don't like electromagnets all that much?>" Meathead asked, Virgil's grin upturned.

"They do not. Every Courser has special hardware that gives them a direct connection to the Relay in the Institute. It's embedded in their skulls. They haven't sent one after me yet, and sitting around here waiting for one to show up isn't the most appealing idea either. I don't know where you can find one, but the primary insertion point for Coursers is directly above the ruins of the CIT. Now, the Relay causes heavy interference across the EM spectrum. You'll need a radio, or a Pip-boy capable of tuning into numerical frequencies to the second decimal. When you get to the ruins, tune to the lower end of the spectrum, and you'll be able to hear the interference. Follow the signal, and it'll lead you directly to a Courser."

"<Before I go, why did you leave the Institute?>"

"I created what I am, and am responsible for creating hundreds of super mutants. Before the Gen. 3 synths, we were experimenting with FEV to build synthetic DNA. I learned there was nothing more to be gained or learn from making more mutants. Without me, their progress in creating super mutants will stall, and in time, my lab will be sealed up along with the rest. My small sacrifice to stop their pursuit of conquest over the surface will only slow them down for a short time. It didn't stop them from stripping the rest of the world away down to nothing."

"<I can feel your grief, your remorse from your memories. You want to atone for what you did while you were with the Institute, I believe that you want to make up for what's happened.>"

"Looking around. I don't know if I understand as well as you do." Brian said, outside of his cave was a forest of dead trees, mostly knocked over or barren matchsticks that were still standing. There was a small irradiated creek, but it wasn't a bother to the mutant Brian turned himself into in order to survive.

This side of the hill was facing away from ground zero, so while marginally spared from the initial blast, it was the follow up wave of heat that scorched the earth.

"<Given the chance...what would you do if the Institute took you back in? Not to kill, but put you back to work?>"
"What? Why? There's no way they would trust me, there's no reason why I wouldn't be suspected for every action I took. There's no reason why they would want me back."

"Oh, there's plenty of reasons why they would want you back, but we need a spy on the inside. Getting them to believe you're worth more alive than dead is the trick. Before you left, what was the Institute after? We know they send out groups of synths, but if we jump their gun, and you find technology, or weapons, or people that would be of greater interest to the Institute, you can bargain that your degrading sanity caused by the FEV is interferring with your mind. That you need to get access to your lab and continue working to reverse the process. Top it off with the cherry, that if you continue your work, then you cold provide a failsafe for every member of the Institute against an outbreak of FEV, if it were to ever get out and spread.>"

Brian Virgil was silent for a few moments, clearing cobwebs out of his mind, trying to think of who, or what would interest the Institute enough to where he could gamble with his life in such a way. The serum failsafe against the FEV alone would be enough to get them to reconsider, but not enough to ensure his safety from suspicion. "I do not like your plan, but they have familiarity with me. I caused alot of damage during my escape, and finishing my work on the serum wouldn't guarantee they wouldn't dispose of me when I finished."

"<Blame it on the FEV, tell them that your hormones were out of control, that you went temporaily insane from the fear that overwhelmed you when you were exposed. You said you tried shutting it down, right? So...is there a panel of some kind? A board of directors that you voiced your opinions on shutting down the FEV lab? Tell them that you thought they would kill you after being subject to experimentation.>"

"There was, I spoke with the Director of the Institute, but he denied to shut down the lab."

"<That's perfect then. You have all the evidence stacked in your favor. Tell them, that since you hit a wall with FEV, and synth dna, that your new direction was creating a serum to prevent FEV in case it ever broke out, before accidentally exposing yourself while testing. Only now that you collected your senses back, you realized your actions, and knew you couldn't go straight back. You scoured the Commonwealth for technology and rogue synths, and any other thing you can think of to atone for the damage you caused. You tried recreating it here, on the surface, haven't you? Tell them without the technology inside the Institute, that is the only place where you can finish it. To be taken back by the Institute would be the most humbling, and greatest achievement of your life. Ask for forgiveness, but don't beg. Request that while you still have your sanity before becoming a mindless supermutant, that you want to regain your humanity. Doing so will ensure no one else in the Institute has to suffer from the same pain as you did. Whatever you can think of that would prove your allegiance to the Institute, I'll help you track it down.>"

Brian took off his cracked glasses and wiped his face, sitting down on the rocky ground.

"There are a few things...Dr. Madison Li heard through one of her contacts about a research project on reactor efficiency in University Point. She leads the Advanced Systems for weaponry, along with her assistant, a Pegasus by the name of Rock-it O' Risk-it. Rock-it is weapons' smart, but not tactical. Doctor Li and Rock-it were so convinced that this efficiency data for the Institute's power needs, that an entire platoon of synths were sent to University Point after learning about this from one of the caravans informants. The whole situation was handled terribly, from what I heard. The synths swept through the town, and the town turned in on itself trying to kill the person who first told our informant about the data she discovered. The synths wiped out the rest of the settlers and scoured the university from top to bottom, but never found anything."

"<What kind of data? A hard drive? Research notes?>"

"There was talk of a hard drive, or a mention of it, but since coming out into the Commonwealth, I deduce whatever was discovered there, it must've been a note, talking about the notes. Like a book series that references all the answers you seek are explained in the next volume. Maybe the settler stole themselves away with the hard drive, or hid themselves where the synths couldn't find it. Terribly unobservant, the Gens 1 and 2. They're one's and zero's compared to the Gen 3's. Either way, Madison Li is extremely vocal, Rock-it is enthusiastic like her mentor, but once won over, they both could damn well be on my side if given the research data."

"<I'll swing by the University, see what's left to pick over.>"

"She and the rest of the Institute are rampant about finding the Byrillium Agitator to start the Institute's reactor, it would solve all their power problems for the next thousand years, they could teleport themselves anywhere in the United States and beyond if they had that, it would make the Institute nearly unstoppable. The shield I mentioned, it draws a lot of power, the creation of synths draws just as much. Top it off with the teleporter, and you're faced with time management power consumption issues that lead to blackouts. To give them that, they would welcome me back, but then have no need of me. Whatever happens, the Institute can not get their hands on the Agitator. Otherwise, there's only one other possible avenue left that might get me back into their good graces."

"<I'll make sure they wont get to it.>"

"Then...Ayo. He's set his sights on a potential candidate to join the Institute, I can't remember his name, but I know where this man is. He and Holdren from Bioscience were interested in a man near Greygarden. A self-taught engineer, and chemist, who was spotted working alongside the Mr. Handy's there at the greenhouse gardens set up there. Persuading him to join undercover would net more results than just myself as a spy. Bringing on the man from Greygarden may be enough to sway Ayo. My return and movement around the Institute may be transparent to others after I return. I may be under surveillance. But a newcomer, with no previous affiliations or motives would likely to be remain undiscovered for a longer period of time. He would be a better candidate to act as a liaison and may outlive me should I go back and successfully integrate back into the Institute."

"<I'll find him, that'll be the easy part, but say we get both of you inside, how would you communicate back to us?>"

"Before I left, there was a known case of a Railroad sympathizer working within the Institute, he or she's been reaching out to the Railroad, sending messages, but the division leaders were doing nothing to investigate it. Maybe they already know who's sending them, or are apathetic to a single man's machinations, knowing the Coursers can retrieve missing synths, or feel like it's not a security risk with how little knowledge is being sent. For the wellbeing of the Institute's reasons, is they don't want to investigate, to put on a bold front that the entire Institute is united, and to probe would cause suspicion and uneasiness within. A third reason why the investigation isn't going anywhere, which at the same is most logical, because we're all too smart for our own good. Egotistical to say that, I know, but small colts and fillies to toddlers can figure out how to operate a computer, adults could do a lot more. To send a message to the outside world, it would need to be sent through one terminal that is re-routed to appear as if the messages were sent from a different terminal within the Institute, throwing off the investigation. Most personnel at the Institute, including myself have a solid understanding of how the computers work and operate, so to send out an encrypted message isn't all that difficult. It's fair to say whoever's sending the messages out knows how to cover their tracks as well, making an investigation all the more fruitless, unless the person was caught in the act. But, I, and the royal 'we' would need a location to send the messages to. There are Institute agents in the field who receive messages from the Institute, orders. Ayo would be able to track a message if it were sent, but he wouldn't be able to know who it was sent to, nor who sent it."

"<What about a Pip-Boy? Could you send it to one of those? They communicate through satellite, while most terminals are grounded through old cables.>"

"Yes. A Pip-Boy would work, it may even be better than sending it to a terminal, where synths could be sent to the terminals receiving location, a Pip-Boy would be highly mobile."

"<Then how about this, I give you a Pip-Boy to reprogram so it can receive these messages, while I track down your data and another potential candidate. With the energy efficiency data, a warm-body, the loss of a courser, and your small act of desperation to reclaim your sanity and provide a safeguard against FEV outbreaks to every single person in the Institute, you would be a shoe-in to be welcomed back with open arms. Sound savvy enough?>"

"It sounds better than going back halfcocked and groveling to restore my sanity. I accept."

"<I'll come back once we're ready to send you back in.>" From Meathead's own saddlebags, he floated out his own Pip-Boy, and handed it off to Brian. “<Thank you, Brian, you've been extremely helpful. This is all valuable information. I'll be back soon, as far as I know, nobody else is looking for you.>”
\111/

[A/N]: Thumbing through a copy of H.P. Lovecraft, Tales of Horror, only now do I realize how many references were pulled from his works and put into Fallout 3 & 4, The Dunwich Horror, Pickman's Muse, many other references.