"Diamond City Radio here, uh... this goes out to my friend out there in the Commonwealth, a little personal message to my Runaway. I heard what happened, sorry things turned out like they did. I wish the time we spent together could stretch out and that you and I were still here together in Diamond City, but I get why you had to leave. I hope you and your group is doing well. Back to the music, Del Shannon up next."

“Up here,” Athena says, they'd made their way to 35 Rockwell Ave, Nate's nerves coming to full realization in his new arm, and had stayed silent most of the walk. The tall skyscraper complex was art-deco on the inside, black, shades of red, and white marble lined the inside. While the lobby was simple, the entire building was a stone fortress of gilded metal and craftsmanship from 1935. Most of the windows on the lower floors were intact, making the interior darker.

The red unicorn led Nate to an elevator, which took them to a second lobby that was just as big, Close to the elevators were two large double doors that were adorned with gold fleur de lis and embellishments, with a waiting area in front of the unmarked doors.

Nate never got the chance to enter this building before the war, and to see it still so well preserved on the inside was like stepping into the Boylston Club, which lead him to understand that whatever was beyond those doors was not inviting, not for an outsider like him.

“Take a seat, that's enough walking for now.”

With nothing to shed, only cradling his new arm, it gave Nate the first chance to sit down and idly examine and touch it, as Athena settled in across from him and addressed him again.

“You need to do quite a lot in a short time if you want to keep your wife safe, Nate.”

“Like what?”

“There's two people who you're going to help me kill if you want to keep your family safe. And I'm not talking about, the threat of a gun, or the plug being pulled, I'm talking about someone taking the land under your feet and slapping chains around your neck. These two men are conquerors, they don't care about your little home, or business that you and a few buddies started up, they want to kill you, take all that you have, and grind up your bones for fertilizer because they do not dig cold hard graves when it's faster to water their crops with fresh warm blood...Their names are Sola Volgari and the Alicorn Firelance. ”

\111/

“A decade ago, Sola; With skin like yours, not all pitted, burnt and dry like people who'd been up on the surface all their life, and his pony Firelance, arrive at a city called the Pitt. He was still a unicorn then. Orange coat, blonde main, and a ray-gun cutie-mark."

"Ashur was the Overboss in charge, he was betrayed by a man who worked for him, Werhner, by helping Sola and Firelance escape slavery, and take an audience with Ashur. They killed Ashur, and then to break the remaining raider's grip on the city, they unleashed an entire horde of feral ghouls locked up in the sewers. This decision to release a horde of feral ghouls spread through the entire city, hundreds of the most well-armed raiders were penned in, and the thousands of slaves with no place to hide were flushed out into Ashur's minefields if they wanted to escape the riot. Parts of the city burned and people died. But, there is much more to the Pitt than senseless violence and death, there was planning and execution. Sola and Firelance may of been put in slave-rags, but they were too clean. I realize now what it is that separates you, Sola, Meathead, and Firelance, and vault dwellers from all the rest. You're all from a Vault. You grew up with pretty skin. Your hair roots aren't matted, and ends aren't split. I find that most vault dwellers have a tendency to be clean beyond normal standards.” Athena seemed parched at the thought, looking down at her own gnarled and chipped hooves, filed and rounded out in her spare time, they had put in plenty of distance over the years. “It's ingrained in you.”

“I didn't care for Ashur, but all the projects Ashur had for all of Pittsburg stopped. Ashur and his wife, Sandra were working on a curing a mutagenic-skin disease stemming from generations of over-exposure to the environment. Radiation poisoning and industrial smog were what was killing most of the people there, raider, slave, trader, didn't matter. it was hell on your lungs. The same ferals that were being penned up were being experimented on by Sandra to synthesize a cure were let loose by eye-witness accounts saying Sola and Firelance blew the gates wide open after they killed Ashur to let them roam across the city.

When I arrived, Sandra was still laying dead. All of her research was still laid out, nobody had even touched the scientific notes detailing treatment, experimentation, trials, and different reaction by testing on the local feral ghoul population. All the different strains of bacteria and diseases injected into the various ferals. Let loose and sent to bite and scratch their way through Pittsburgh. The plague that followed killed thousands.

When the lowest of slaves can tell me that the Pitt's raiders were experimenting on ferals for years, that doesn't register what could happen if all those biting, snarling, bacteria ridden, all released on the local population? Sounds like something you went through yourself all too recently.” Athena said, “Vault 84 I believe? You made the choice to save an entire vault, and not keep anything for yourself. Sola and Firelance had the same opportunity at the scale of a city, and kept it all for themselves. Would you be evil enough to take those mole rats from Vault 84, and shoo them all towards the door to bite their way through the local population? I see in your eyes you're not that type of person, you shake your head and wince at the thought, you even look down at your hands the doctors say were hurt...but Sola and Firelance... they were pretending to be slaves for two months before they could get to Ashur. Can you tell me why someone who experiences something like that for a short time wishes for others to experience it for the rest of their lives?

My brothers, sisters, bastards and bitches of Equestrians they may be, scattered and enslaved here and there across America. They're still in chains. I do what I can, where the opportunity lies to free them. Firelance and Sola deserve to die for their lying, for their disregard of human and pony life, callous indifference to letting thousands die so the Brotherhood could build work camps, keeping people away from rebuilding and planting roots. Werhner was waiting to hand over Pittsburgh to the Brotherhood after Sola and Firelance left, making him easy to find. All the progress towards making homes for the slaves, expanding farms, demolishing old pre-war buildings, curing the sick, all of that went away. The work camps sprang up quickly from the bottom-up, groups trying to get a hold of basic supplies, and that's where I realized they won. This was a frustrating time of waiting,

Those three were still hailed as heros as the ones who caused all the chaos in Pittsburgh. Sola and Firelance. After the Brotherhood arrived, their answer was Radaway which they sold to anyone who could afford it. The cure vanished and everyone either was absorbed into the Brotherhood, or left before they could get too settled. People were only free enough to suffer even more under the Brotherhood. The Brotherhood has never been in the market of selling, only taking. I've spent the last ten years hunting Firelance and Sola down for using the Pitt slaves as a springboard for their own gain. I found Werhner in a penthouse skyscraper in Uptown Pittsburgh with three women and two mares chained up, so I placed a white-hot iron collar around his neck and let him scream until his vocal chords melted."

\111/

“I get your promise of a painful death, and why you want to kill them, but what would you like me to do? Why do you need me?"

“In Nuka-World, about 20 miles from here, in the twelve months since raiders stormed Nuka-World. They enslaved the locals and my Equestrian brethren, and have been steadily using Nuka-World as a trading hub ever since. While the water is brackish, high population density, and stabbing is encouraged between gang rivalries, those gangs are at each other's throats and it's begging for a group like the Institute to slip in a synth, or the Brotherhood to declare open-season on. In the last six months, in rigged death-match, that I attended, watched, and saw. The prize is Overboss. A rule, no ponies, since were considered expendable work horses, or meat. Meathead and you would win before he could even blink. He's rigged an power armor frame wired to the park's electrical grid and welded with enough plates around it to take a cannon's blast. I want you, and Meathead, to go in there and kill him.”

“You want me to become Overboss? Why?”

“Like I said, no small wonder how the suggestion came up; Everyone is dissatisfied with Colter and are looking for an excuse to kill him. I'm surprised someone in the Railroad hasn't contacted you already to try and take this challenge, but it sounds like a fools errand if you haven't walked around Nuka-World and seen what's at stake. Killing Colter won't be the hardest thing about taking over Nuka-World, It'll be getting the raiders to listen to you. You need a fighting force, an army, or even a group of well trained guards willing to listen to you and only you.”

“That's great, but why do you want me, Nate, to be Overboss?”

“I need you as you are, because anything short of an Alicorn, or a Warlord won't be accepted as a leader. I can't stop Colter, free slaves, and build a paradise for my own kind alone. I need you because I can't do this alone. You need to realize that right now you look terrifying. You went into the Glowing Sea a human and came back with a Deathclaw arm in place of your own. This mutated-scary looking human who already has a small reputation of drastic frontier justice left Kellogg's body still swinging in the breeze, rotting. Anyone entering Goodneighbor passes his hanging corpse every time they go through the gate and are reminded what happens to the Liars and thieves who are making the rest of the world harder to live in for everyone else. Does that answer your question, Nate? I need you, but I'm not going to let an opportunity that you don't realize the scope of yet, slip away.”

“What will you be up to while I'm stepping into role of big boss?”

“I'll be phasing slavery out from the ground up, moving caravans, using what little pull I have with other traders to make sure certain goods are always in demand for Nuka-World until Colter is dealt with.”

“What do they need the most?”

“Medicine, and clean water. I'm not above seeing how fighting the Institute and Brotherhood could be portrayed as the path to a slave's freedom. You end Slavery, Emancipate them, from the top down, but the raiders and slavers will whine and moan terribly because they would be forced to give up their precious labor source. Those who feel like they aren't getting enough will come to betray you. Fulfilling Mona's contract will leave the super-mutant gangs scattered. Nuka-World will be at a stage to absorb all the gangs of the Commonwealth, giving you more than enough manpower to take the Institute. Once you have the Institute, it wont be long until the Brotherhood strikes.”

“Have you thought about beating the Brotherhood?”

“I have, and while the Railroad wouldn't win in a shooting war, they would win in a blitz. The Railroad has been the Brotherhood's main source of intelligence and synth information for the last decade. Once they arrive, the Brotherhood will try and make contact with the Railroad, but it's only a ruse to scout their base location. I don't know if you realize, but the Brotherhood and Railroad aren't compatible. The Railroad is a movement, the Brotherhood is a war-party. The Railroad needs to evolve, or be overran by Synths, or soldiers. You take Nuka-world, and the Railroad will be forced to make a decision of focusing their efforts on you as Over-boss. When the time comes, you need to convince them to work for you, and Nuka-World taking the Institute first.”

“Why? Why Both? How do you know Sola and Firelance want inside the Institute? What's in there that we don't know about?”

“After Firelance became an Alicorn, they realized Firelance was just part of a special set.”

“What kind of set?”

“S.P.E.C.I.A.L, Strength, Perception, Endurance, Charisma, Intelligence, Agility, and Luck all of those descriptors are attributes that can best describe someone, or embody in physical Alicorn form of someone who is special.”

"What do you mean?”

“The only sign I've found of Sola and Firelance in the Commonwealth was the mention from a book Sola brought with him. From this single book, I know for sure that Sola and Firelance came here, searched for months, but didn't succeed in finding what they wanted.

Nate traced Athena's eyes, and realized she was looking at the coffee table next to Nate, he was surprised, the Wasteland Survival Guide was sitting right there next to him, and he didn't even notice its presence until now. It was an old copy, spine bent back and covers folded over and rolled back to be held in one hand.

“In the margins Sola lists himself as Captain of the Brotherhood expedition, along with Firelance, as well as other names, all boxed off and spelling out the details of the first Brotherhood expedition to the Commonwealth seven years ago. Take the book. On the back inside-cover,”

Scribbled in English, “Lost Li and Rocket to Institute, She think's they can create the next SPECIAL Alicorn. I'll prove them wrong again. The Brotherhood will take the whole Commonwealth, no matter what. I still win either way.”

The Institute tries to blend a together an Alicorn using science and magic, while the Brotherhood is going to come drop the Hammer on God's Anvil to forge an Alicorn through battle. Ten years ago, something happened during the Battle for the Capital Wasteland, something special to Firelance. That if I knew I would be doing everything in my power to replicate. I have every reason to believe they're trying to prime another pony into becoming Alicorn. But since I don't know how Alicorns are created, or the environmental magic trigger that would make a Alicorn pop into existence, I can only gather that their answer is to cause enough destruction and chaos to force one into being created. If the Railroad weren't crumbling, maybe you'd discover your friend Deacon has considered the possibility of finding an Alicorn or setting up the conditions for a Special one to be created as well."

"How would you know this?"

"While I'm not fond of slavery, I've bought and sold humans, synths, and my own kind, the rest I've tried to use the Railroad to free them. Doesn't always work, and I've got to send them somewhere once they're free and make sure they don't get rounded up again. I needed people who were willing to take on and place these poor devils, and that's when Deacon approached me after I started asking questions about Alicorns... In my many attempts to find the pony or outright become an Alicorn myself, I considered the only pony who would become an Alicorn was or at the current time, is a slave. Someone so desparate for change, feeling the weight of their chains, begging for freedom, and then the self-motivation and drive forces them to seize their chance and in the process, evelate themselves from a miserable existence into someone like you who sees life for how beautiful it can be."

"When did I say that?"

"In your article Piper wrote and quoted you. I have to say, it takes a lot of balls to look at bombed out craters and say that there's still hope. I haven't come across many people who actually believe what they say when everything is taken from them. When I came to the Commonwealth I asked about Alicorns, and the battle of D.C., when lo and behold, Deacon told me of a big powerful battle that happened three years ago in the Mid-West. While I was on the East-Coast, forces over a thousand miles away were waging war."

“Where?”

“A place called Hoover Dam. It's supposed to be a concrete structure tall as a skyscraper, holding back a river to create a lake. I don't even know who fought or who won, all I know is that there was a large enough of a dust-up for news to travel this far.”

“Hoover Dam...That's Vegas. That's the Alicorn of Luck. I'd bet money on that.”

“What do you mean? Why do you say that?”

"It's something you would've needed to see before the war to understand. It's a gambling oasis in the middle of the Mojave desert. Surrounded by sand, mountains, and scorching heat. What happened there?"

"At some point during the battle, one side planted bombs inside the Hoover Dam as a failsafe to keep the other from claiming the Dam. As the story goes. The losers were loosing, and detonated the explosives, causing the whole Dam to collapse. A single Alicorn stopped the wall of water and pushed the whole fucking thing right back into place." Athena was shaking when she said the last part. “There's something you don't get about Alicorns, they're not common. Any pony could become one, and yes, I spent a decent amount of time deluding myself into believing that I could be the next Special Alicorn, but even I came realize that it just doesn't work like that. I've used my magic to grind a raider's organs up from the inside out, but that doesn't make me Special. If the Institute stalled on their work, or maybe they already succeeded and have the Alicorn of Intelligence on Ice, just like you, ready to be pulled out on a warm sunny day when the time's right. Either way, Nate, Brotherhood or Institute, Railroad, or Nuka-World, you are the owner of a valuable gas that could power refrigeration systems across the entire North-East. Storing meat, vegetables, anything would be possible again with a startup like that tapping into the riches of Vault 111. Sooner or later the Insitute will be back for those freezers you're sitting on, ditto for when the Brotherhood arrives. Not that I'm forcing you to make a decision, I'm just letting you know what's down each road. Your choices are Institute, the Brotherhood, or the Railroad as your backing support while you take over Nuka-World. Once your in position, that'll give the Railroad a reason to integrate themselves into your power structure and try and take up positions below you that would give them access to all of the raider's exploits. Neither of us can win this war without more fire and manpower.”

“So your plan is to use the raiders from Nuka-World as a fighting force against the Brotherhood?”

"I'd rather use the synth army to lay waste against the Brotherhood since a robot can be rebuilt in less time than it would take for a pony or human to be born and raised up to fighting age. The Railroad may not win in a drawn-out shooting war, but they've been the Brotherhood's main source of information on the Institute and everything that's happening inside the Commonwealth for over a decade. The Railroad is more than capable enough to infiltrate the Brotherhood's main forces and either get them to surrender, or back off. Bodies in the ground, explosive chaos, or at the end of a gun barrel, the Commonwealth needs the Brotherhood gone. To keep the Brotherhood's transmission communications from going through, making friends with Mona was necessary to keep the Trinity Tower Signal running. Once we turn Trinity Tower off, they can talk back and forth, up and down the sea board clear as day, while we're stuck with Pegasus mail, hand-helds, ham-radios, and sending smoke signals. Which is why we'll keep the broadcast running until the last possible moment I see them coming over those hills. From there, that'll be the beginning of a new Brotherhood of Steel gang takeover. They force farmers into contracts, making them a slave in every sense of the word except for it being written down or spoken out loud. I have a Brotherhood contact here if you wish to read it, but you'll see what I'm saying is true.”

“How do you know Sola and Firelance are still together after all this time?”

“Wherever Sola goes, Firelance follows. Like a dog and it's master. They're friends as far as I know.”

“And repelling the Brotherhood will bring these two out?”

“Drawing Sola and Firelance to the Commonwealth will only happen when they think they're going to lose their shot at taking the Institute. Once Mona's contract is done hanging over your head, and her herd is culled, that sets the stage for humans and ponies to expand across the Commonwealth. She may be emotionless, but she's rational and calculating. She sees the need of a good population of sheep to fleece every once and a while. Anyone in the coming weeks after our mutant hunting, will be facing the least rational of Super Mutants, incapable of organizing parties, or only those who knew better than not to betray Mona and find rectitude in becoming their own mutant community. There's no doubt that gangs are forming, strongholds are being built all around, the shooting will stop long enough for bigger wars to be fought, but when the Institute and Brotherhood stake their claim first, all that prep-time ends. You need to stop both if you want your Vault and community from being picked clean by either side in the aftermath. I can tell you of a way that can both keep your land, your property, your wife and friends all safe, so long as no harm comes to one super mutant on Mona's list.”

“Keeping Mona's contract over me.”

“Yes, for now. The last time I helped someone like this, they decided that their freedom was more important than ending slavery. If you make that same choice, I want to have a backup way of finding you and ending your life no matter where you are, and this mutant, Strong, needs to have an assurance no harm will come to him when our paths eventually cross. So, either die fighting, or sit back and die. Those are your options."

\111/

Nate kept pinching his Deathclaw limb, pinch me, I'm dreaming. He thought, but the new appendage remained attached firmly at the shoulder where it meshed into his flesh.

At Rockwell 35, Athena lead Nate to the double-doors with brass handles, gilded plates of steel, and thick hinges. “Beyond this door are two Assaultrons wearing power-armor, the owners of this building were guarding some valuable pre-war caches, I'm interested in seeing if you're capable of putting your new arm to use. I've seen Deathclaws rip people in half with one swipe of their claw.”

Nate sat upright at the thought of being shredded out of his power armor in Concord, gripping his new hand to make a fist, he splayed the claws outward.

“That's why you brought me here?”

“See my mark?” A marble white Beheaded-Medusa, on her red coat of fur, “I find heros, and mosters, and heros to kill those monsters,.., but I will never confuse the dozens of people out there thinking they can be the hero by being the monster. Show me what you're capable of.”

Athena's magic wrapped around the ornate doors, parting them to reveal a forty foot long office with grey-rugs leading up a staircase with two Assaultrons around a desk. Nate flexed his claw once, slowly stepping into his room, mentally calculating how long he would have before they reacted. The frames of the two Assaultrons were indeed covered in power-armor, T-45 model.

Swallowing, he felt the tips of his claws touch the floor, he took a three-point sprinter's stance, then bolted for the Assaultron on the left. Four seconds was all it took for Nate to run the length of the room,

but by then, both Assaultrons were both making their first stance to defend against him.

Testing the weight and physics of his new claw, Nate surmised the best strike to be a falling axe-like motion. Intending to cleave through the neck cavity, he was able to get the first hit in by raking the claws down from the robot's right shoulder, across the spine and neck, crippling the assaultron and spewing hydraulic oil across him, down to the robots hip joints. The claws sunk in and dug deep gouges through the steel plates, like cutting a piece of aluminum foil. The power armor was shredded, exposing the sparking and shorting-innards of the robot.

Nate fell over with the first robot, the second Assualtron focused on him, firing a beam of red energy at his chest. Nate shouted in pain as a red burn mark bore into his right side. Lurching left, spinning away from the first, Nate raised his claw to shield his face, feeling only the thickened skin peel like a fresh-tan when the robot fired energy blasts again. Ducking down behind the bureau, the Assaultron bashed its fists down on top of the wood, splintering and cracking the heavy desk, Nate came around to the left hand-side of the Assualtron and pounced up.

He still felt a burn lance across his cheek, burnt skin that instantly blistered made him wince and shout. As he tackled the second robot over, the Assaultron responded with electric tasers that shocked Nate, forcing Nate off for a moment.

He swung his claw like a mallet, knocking the Assaultron's arm off with a loud bang of twisting metal.

Wrapping his claw around the Assaultron's neck and head, he clenched tightly and yanked upwards. The first pinch was like crushing a thick tin-container. Then the plates buckled and casing collapsed, and then with a jerk like snapping a chicken's neck, he ripped the head off.

His whole body shook, nerves still tight from the electric-shock, but he was confident the fight was over. Looking around again, he didn't see any other threats in the office, and Athena was making her way in.

“You got hit,” She said,

“I'll take any burn cream if you have it.” Nate said, shaking some of the oil off himself. He wiped his claw on the closest rag he could find. “Is there anything here worth looking for?”

“The building itself is worthwhile, and can be a layover for people in the future, but the owners of this building had blueprints and maps for all the old telephone lines running underground, they'll be necessary to find and splice into, see if they're still working or run new ones. But, to keep the rest of your body~ the soft and fleshy bits~ safe while we take care of these mutants, you'll need the power-armor that was custom built for the owners of this building to use in an emergency, ”

“How do you know it was custom built?”

She raised her hoof, pointing directly at the T-60 power-armor that read 'Boston Bell. Phone & Utilities,' the armor and helmet were after market, heavily modified to deal with electric-shock and was equipped with a jack-phone.

Nate imagined himself in the suit, and supposed he could rip the arm off and poke his claw through, since it never would fit him otherwise. Suddenly a cold wave came over him, and he stepped away from the suit, taking only the phone to fiddle with later.

“Suit up, Partner. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we get to bed.”

“I need something more mobile, and sturdy than power-armor. I've got something in mind. Why do the maps interest you?”

“Your choice, like I said, we'll be stuck with pony-express and smoke signals when the Brotherhood arrives, we'll need phone lines up and running if we want to at least stay in contact with each others groups and people.”

Athena pulled through the offices cabinets, long trays with thin draws holding wide flat architecture designs. “These, or...” Rifling through the papers, she held three aloft in her magic, “Pipes running all over the old city. Miles and miles of wire. This way we can run a new wire and know where it'll end up, assuming the tubes and pipes aren't crushed or filled with rubble.”

“You get what you needed?”

“I did.”

“Then where's our first monster?”

“About an hour North of here, oh what am I saying?” Athena asked herself, looking up at her horn.

\111/

The air parted with the small sonic-boom of wind as Athena and Nate were teleported without warning to where she described was North.

West Everett Estates, ruled by Hammer. He'd seen it early on with Meathead and kept his distance, but as he and Athena got closer, he realized the gruesome details and decorations were much more graphic up close.

Biting his cheek and ignoring it, Athena led him to a boat house directly across the waterway from the cul-de-sac of houses. There were a handful of weapons, revolvers and a pistol, rifles and a shotgun, even two metal boxes with explosives. From the upstairs balcony and master bedroom interior, they were able to spy and watch the whole neighborhood.

They counted off over a dozen mutants patrolling the cluster of houses, with the wall separating three of the seven houses. The one Athena referred to looked like the most well built house in the whole neighborhood before the war, along with the show-house, and a regular development lot, but the light blue house looked like it had actually seen repairs post-war to keep it as maintained.

One mutant in particular hurried around the whole complex, pointing and shouting, his yells could be heard carrying across the water as he directed mutants to do their jobs.

“He's got an odd look about him, that one.”

“That would be Hammer."

“How long will I get?”

“About three minutes. While I draw the ponies and mutants away, I'll get him to talk to Fist after I'm done speaking to him.”

Adapting the construction supplies, cars, and equipment to make barricades walling off the streets and backyards, the entire neighborhood was a small fort with walls. While the houses on the edges of the development were only partially built, they could both see three ponies working alongside the mutants. One was digging along the junk-wall, another was carrying tools, and the third mare was going back and forth between houses, disappearing from view every so often.

“Are these some of the freed ponies you were mentioning?”

“They wont be an issue. They know we're coming.”

“And they'll know what's happening?”

“Super-mutants see ponies like a big dumb kid sees a dog. We won't shed many tears if Hammer's dead.”

“What's the plan?”

“The plan was that we shoot them, but since you decided to leave the power armor behind, we're going with the silent approach. You see how they haven't put any defenses up by the water's edge? You've got the wall of trash, and cars and junk, the boat ramp, rock wall that flattens out to the backyards, and these three lots are all on the water-front. It's the light neon blue house, small radio antenna in backyard, closest to water-tower.”

Athena stood close to the window, focusing for a moment, a lance of red light flashed from her horn. Across the water, the stallion carrying the tools halted, jerking his neck towards the boathouse across the water. Signaling again, the stallion set his charge down and calmly made his way to the other two ponies.

“Okay, they know what's about to happen, I will go to the front gate and draw Hammer out. I want you to take the wet-approach, and get to the radio Hammer uses to speak with Fist. Rig an explosive to it, and then get out. Mona doesn't care about the rest of them.”

\111/

Athena was letting on that she and others in her circle were planning for this mutant-removal for some time now. Waiting downstairs were explosives, guns, ammo, and the materials to rig an explosive to a pip-mic. When Hammer presses the talk-button, the whole device explodes in his face.

Nate walked half a kilometer north to avoid any chance someone would spot him as he crossed the water way, then walked back. The rocks were well eroded with enough hand and footholds allowing him to pull himself up to the backside of the water-tower.

He heard the whip-like crack of Athena's teleport, a mini sonic-boom compared to Meathead's 'fwoosh' of energy. Mutant-dogs howled and barked and snarled at the noise, nearly startling Nate, only if he hadn't seen them first. Mutants moved about, the sentries turned their attention to the North gate, while Nate made his entrance from the South.

The gap between the water tower and the light blue neon house, and the backyard was the only times he was exposed, but he spotted potential threats and stayed low, moving quickly to reach what was a cellar-bunker built down underneath the house. The radio-tower and wires were leading directly down into the ground, so Nate grabbed hold of the cellar door and heaved it open.

Down the steps, Nate held the wires ready to snap onto positive and negative energy strips, explosive in hand, he was ready to plant the device and leave until he opened the bunker door to the basement.

An immaculate playroom, designed and built by a can-do attitude of a father back before the Big War, Nate and this man would've gladly shared plenty of beers discussing construction and at-home improvement projects, had they ever got the chance to meet, but the niceness of the family bunker wasn't what stopped him from planting the bomb.

Two colts, a pegasus and a unicorn, and an earth filly were playing with dolls and trains, trucks, the colt had enough skill to lift an airplane around and spin it through the air. Listening to music on tape, the far wall with dozens of music tapes still sitting there. Realizing the song that was currently playing was coming to an end made his mouth dry for a moment, one of the colts noticed a fresh breeze of air come in, hair sticking up as he turned to see a human with a monsterous claw carrying odd things.

The start of the song started off with a flute flying up and down the octave twice, and briefly noted it was Peter Gabriel, and most of the lyrics were shuffling through the contents of Nate's mind.

“Hey you there!” The opening line of the song started,

The colt shouted, alerting his brother and sister, they were backing away, trying to put distance between themselves and the human.

“Get away, Human! Get Away! Don't hurt her! Go Away!” The brothers shouted and screamed, the filly stood up and roared,

“I'm not a human!” Nate shouted above them, afraid he was too loud himself. “I'm not a human! Look! See!? I'm only part!” The first thing he could shout to get these kids to quiet down, and either they were still young enough to be tricked by Nate, or they were bright enough to see the difference, they stopped to listen. The young filly was all red in the face, crying.

No way to salvage this, he took one knee to the ground,“You could have an airplane, if you bring your blue skies back, All you gotta do is call my name!” He said sounding out the lyrics, this wouldn't work forever, the song was over five minutes long, and Nate already flubbed the next two lines. “I wanna be your sledgehammer! All you gotta do is call my name! Listen, kids, I'm here because there's going to be fighting up above, do you know what to do when that happens?” Two of the kids nodded, while it looked like the older brother locked eyes with Nate. “You mother taught you to protect your sister, didn't she?”

“Yeah. Because she's-”

“An Earth pony.” the middle child cut in.

“That means we've gotta make sure she's extra tough and ready to take on anything when we're gone!”

“Yeah! I'm rough, and I'm tough!” The filly said, giant tear streaks pouring down. Below her the teardrops splashed against the ground and she couldn't even look up at Nate.

“Darn right you are!” Nate said. He was looking around the family bunker, scanning the walls and shelves, hoping to see something that would help him turn his situation around. Seeing as how this area was used by the ponies and protected by the mutants, there was a level of oranization Nate was able to see, but his eyes landed on a tall brown 12x9x6 inch box. A stealth boy field emitter, Nate gasped. “I need to borrow this brown box!” He said, grabbing it before the youngsters could react or protest.

The hatch doors to the bunker were pulled open, Nate only had seconds as the children started acting up, talking loudly and still not quite sure of this strange man in their presence. Nate heard the bunker door open, but the kids didn't. In the four seconds it took Nate to find the on-switch to the stealth-boy, and power it on, Hammer was standing there.

“Why are you children squabbling?” Hammer asked, he looked at each one of them, and then how they were looking at the spot where Nate was standing only moments ago.bThe way Hammer spoke gave Nate a chill, it was a put together sentence sounded out by a person gargling steel bolts.

Nate was already moving, fist slamming into the lights, he blacked-out the basement, then reached up to grab Hammer by the neck with his deathclaw. Moving towards the stairs as the young ponies were thrown into panic, Nate pulled Hammer far enough away from the door and then pinched his fingers together, the claws slicing through the mutant's neck like machete blades. Throwing Hammer away from him, Nate's first instinct was to reach up and grab ahold of the handle, slamming the door shut.

He was coated with blood, and dropped the stealth-boy in his gambit, but Hammer was dead. Turning and fleeing up the stairs, he got to the top step, saw a straight path for the water, and sprinted for it.

The mutant-dogs sounded their howls and were barking like mad, but Nate hit the water with a loud splash, and dove down deep, kicking and pawwing his way through the water. Only when his lungs started to burn and he was choking that he started surfacing. Gasping, he made it halfway back across the channel, aiming for the boathouse where he started off from, Nate was expecting Athena to already be back.

She arrived ten minutes later, “I was expecting a bang,”

“And they were expecting a shootout! Athena, they put the kids in the bunker for safety because they thought we were going to come in guns blazing! Hammer walked in on a bunch of terrified ponies, and so I had to improvise.”

“And who's fault is that? Yours? Mine? The ponies? I told you, loud would've been the way to go, but it's done, you say?”

“Athena, that bunker was a play room for those kids. Hammer's radio, it was right in the middle of their play room. Those kids could've been caught by shrapnel, did you know about the kids?”

“I knew of their existence, not that they were underground. I'm not your dog who can sniff out creatures like he can. If you were devious enough to rig up an explosive to a radio, then that is on you. But since you didn't, and Hammer's dead? Then we're done here and you can sleep at night knowing you did your best to spare the interior decorator.”

\111/

Tin Hut, Sea Shell, Dahl Nut, Dough Nut, Poppy Cake, Crab Cake, Lotta Rosie, Quark, and Styles.

The nine ponies of University Point were under a similar situation, held captive by the Institute's machines that were left defuct until a human comes near and activates their sensors.

At now over a month from the massacre, where the whole settlement was bustling with humans and ponies, was now a quiet graveyard. There was a declining will to clean the entire battle cleaned up, and they were only slightly aware of why the Institute was there in the first place, to find and recover a piece of data one of the humans found.

They spent their own time searching for whatever it could be, but while they knew the robots and synths weren't going to attack them directly, there was no guarantee that these synths wouldn't kill them all either. The nine ponies left in control of the University were caught in between a rock and a hard place. Their protection was covered by leftover Institute synths that they couldn't control, keeping humans, raiders, mutants, as well as traders and merchants that they've since flagged down with signs warning people not to come within line-of-sight of the synths, or otherwise trip their sensors.

While the synths were threatening in appearance, they left the ponies alone otherwise, viewing them as non-threats, not to be bothered with.

This left them in a state of self-reliance, building up the remains of the school, farming on the main campus, and pick over the scraps of the humans who were wiped out and now buried, but otherwise unable to grow beyond the Institute's watch. These ponies were feeling a sense of freedom that they otherwise hadn't felt with other humans around, but it wasn't mututal. The possibility to break the synths down or disable them was there, but left the nine ponies in a state of purgatory.

They wouldn't realize they were being watched by Meathead, Deacon, and Hancock, or that the trio took heed of their sign warnings and that Meathead was walking right up to the entrance.

The gymnasium that was designated as a caravan's cattle quarry for passing traders, but the ground had barely been disturbed since the massacre. As Meathead made his way closer, he counted off the synths, and their positions.

With the synths on sentry, the ponies didn't even realize Meathead was in their presence until he cleared his throat and shouted, “Vault-Tec. Calling!”

His appearance of a stallion, light blue-coat, blond hair, green-eyes, and a Vault-Cutie mark, made him look like a walking advertisement for Vault-Tec. He was spotted by three ponies right away, Tin Hut, Quark, and Crab Cake were all close in the vicinity to hear and see the new comer, Poppy Cake, Donut, and Dahl appeared shortly after.

“You made it alright?” Tin Hut asked, Meathead nodded a reply,

Quark asked, “How did you get here? Which way did you come from?” and Crab Cake followed up with, “What are you doing here? Is there anyone else with you?”

Meathead answered their questions, and when it came to why he was here, “I heard about the Institute synths attacking this settlement, looking for a piece of technology or data.”

“We don't know what the Institute was looking for, stranger. All we know is they haven't found it, and that there's nothing left in the University Building to be found. We've all taken turns at some point over the last month tearing that building inside out, and there isn't anything here that you couldn't find in any school everywhere else in the Commonwealth.”

“Then they haven't found it yet, or it's not in the main building.” Meathead reasoned, looking around the campus, there was a cafe, a laundromat, a Student Credit Union, a pharmacy, as well as the gym behind him, but the South Boston University Hall dominated the skyline above all other buildings.

“Why are you after it?”

“Because I happen to know what it is that everyone's looking for, it's...” Meathead's eyes rolled to the synths that hadn't moved, but hadn't stopped watching either.

Reading the crowd, these ponies didn't like that the Institute was here, that they'd killed their human friends, but at the same time, they couldn't get rid of them and once they were gone, left defenseless.

“I'll know what it is, once I see it. That's my talent, I have a knack for old-world tech. But, I have to ask, do you like having the Institute synths around?”

The overwhelming silent majority was a resounding 'No', but three of the group gave into their fears and replied 'yes'.

“Okay, well I hate to break the bad news to everyone, but those Synths aren't your friends or protectors.”

“But they've never targeted us.”

“That's fine, but considering they killed every human here, and that I've seen the Institute synths across the Commonwealth, their next step is going to be dismantling every square inch of this campus until its all bricks, plaster, boards, and nails. Why they haven't done it yet,-”

“They've already started doing that,” Poppy Cake said, “They've been tearing apart the basement and backside of the school. There's mirelurk dens down there that made this place part-infestation, part-food supply, so it was a give and take. The tides make a big difference too, the basement completely floods, and makes it so the synths can't get down there without dealing with a wave of Mirelurks coming in from the ocean.”

“Who's in charge here?” Meathead asked, the herd looked towards Tin Hut and Crab Cake.

“Either of us,” Crab Cake said,

“Will you let me look around, see if I can find what it is the Institute's looking for?”

“Help yourself, Lotta Rosie is in the University building right now, she can show you what's been searched.”

Around this time, Meathead noticed the filly Sea Shell watch from a distance with an older stallion Styles standing directly behind her.

“Any chance someone could fill me in on what happened leading up to the Institute's arrival?”

“I can,” Sea Shell called out, Meathead smiled to the filly, earning a confident look back. She was beaming with energy, where before the other seven ponies were all in a fugue-state, her eyes spoke volumes about all the observations she was able to make as an unobstructed child wandering about her home.

“Alright, little missy, you do that, but first, I need you to think long and hard, and remember all the details while I take a look around first with some of the adults, alright? I'm just gonna take a quick tour, then you can tell me all about it.”

The filly was nodding so hard through the excitement of a new-arrival, that she was ready to call Meathead a friend.

\111/

A yellow pony with a red mane, and weighing 19 stone, with a six-roses cutie-mark making the 'XXX' and a head taller than Meathead at his best, she was dragging bundles of the former residents belongings through the halls when Rosie heard her name called. Passing roaming synths, her footfalls sunk into the floorboards making her every step vibrate through the whole building, the pegasus arrived in the atrium, and stepped off the top floor, landing infront of Meathead, Tin Hut, and Crab Cake.

After the introduction, Lotta Rosie asked, “So what is it that you want? Why do you want what the Institute's looking fer?"

“<Old data, notes, books, somewhere here is data on improving a nuclear reactor. If I learn how the humans did it before the war, then that's untapped electricity and energy waiting to be harnessed. This could make fusion cores last longer, energy cells more efficient, but I have a feeling the Institute will sink this whole university into the ocean to make sure no one else can reattempt or know about their discovery.>”

“Yeah, that's why I'm not sticking around any longer. You came on a good day, stranger, today I'm leaving and off to try my luck again somewhere else.” Lotta Rosie said. She looked the newcomer up and down, slowly licking her lips.

“<North West about an hour for you by wing from here there's a growing pony community in Concord,>”

“How would you know it's an hour by wing?” Her emotions suddenly flared up, becoming defensive. Looking at Meathead closer, she felt offended. Like she was being tricked.

“<Our group's has a pegasus relative, Thunderstruck. She's has bamboo yellow coat, a shaking-cloud cutie-mark with a lightning bolt coming down from it. Blonde hair,->” Lotta Rosie perked up at the description,

“She's alive?”

“<You know her?>”

“We were kept in the same cage. Yes, I fucking know her! Where is she? She alright? How did she get out of Nuka-World? Who bought her? You didn't go there yourself- you don't look- you're notta pony- who the fuck are you?!” She asked, looking past the facade of Meathead's disguise, she realized that this pony standing in front of her was not at all what he appeared or claimed to be.

“<She escaped. The big noise a few weeks ago, echoed across the whole Commonwealth. She said it distracted the raiders long enough for her to make a break for it. She and a few other ponies are either on their way to Concord, or are there now.>”

Meathead didn't get another chance to speak to Lotta Rosie again, she made a beeline for the rooftops, pumping her giant wingspan, using the rain gutters as a hoofstep, there was a giant dent in where she stepped, then another bound into the sky, then was out of sight. He was still replaying her words over in his head, and accepting the fact this was the first time anybody saw through his disguise based on what he said.

Meathead spent two hours between wandering around Synths, checking the same areas to ensure that they were clear, listening to Tin Hut and then Sea Shell's explanation. The filly had a unique perspective of not being assigned a role yet in the SBU community, and was able to wander freely about with the exception of going into people's rooms and a few doors they made sure to let Sea Shell know there were dangerous monsters, or old rotten rooms she could fall through and get hurt. That left Sea Shell to migrate towards the only other young person in the whole town was the daughter of a scrap mechanic. While Sea Shell and Jaqueline would play, Sea Shell was the only pony who actually saw what it was Jaqueline found. A hard-drive from one of the college's computers that mentioned the Reactor Efficiency Data. While the mentioning was only notes, that Hard-Drive was sold to a trader, who then took that Hard-Drive to Kellogg a month before Nate and Meathead were pulled from the deep freeze. The Synths arrived a week later, and that lead the humans to turn on each other. The only saving grace was that the ponies weren't targeted at all, but terrified to high heavens that the same would happen to them.

“You want to explain to me what Lotta Rosie meant by, you not being a pony?” Crab Cake inquired, joinging the tour group as Tin Hut left.

“<I think what she was going for, before she took off, was that I don't look like the type of pony to go to Nuka-World, I didn't come from there either.>”

“Yeah, you're too clean.” Sea Shell said. Meathead made a mental note of that.

“So where'd you come from anyway?”

“<Concord. Vault 111. Sanctuary Hills.>”

“Any better than this place?” Crab Cake asked,

“<We've got access to pure warm running water and plenty of soap. We're working on a hydroponic garden, a vertical garden grown inside underground, and we could always use more hooves to expand it. Sleeping arrangements are communal, and as for security, well, it's a Vault, but the bit you're probably interested in is that there's only one gang, the Federal Ration Stockpile Raiders, run by Red. She and the Overseer of Vault 111, Nate, already fulfilled an agreement which allows anyone from Vault 111 to be under their protection.>”

“What's the cost? What are you giving them?”

“<A brewery, glass bottles, caps, and expensive labor they can't get anywhere else. They've got too much territory and not enough people to patrol it all. That'll change though, they'll get the numbers, and try to expand North, but for at least two years it'll give us time to produce and grow before they make their way up to us demanding things like tribute and free labor.>”

“And what happens then?”

“<We kill them all.>”

“That sounds nice. Our water tastes funny. I think it's cause the lurkers in the basement.” Sea Shell said, Crab Cake however was still considering the newcomer.

“<Old rusty pipes and mold is what you're tasting.>”

“Sign us up, then.” Crab Caid said, looking around at the dilapidated interior.

The overwhelming scent of sea-water and mold clung to the air and was oppressive, but the ponies were oblivious to the fact or had other issues keeping them from seeing the danger of the dilapidated school building crumbling into the sea.

The top floor was dryer, but the air was more stale and trapped. It was here Jaquline and her father were gunned down by their own kind for believing that it was they who were the ones in contact with the Institute. Because of their proficiency with computers and technological scrap, they never got a chance to explain themselves or reason with others before the Institute acted.

Sea Shell pointed Meathead towards Jaquline's computer, and looked over what was left.

Between the ponies and synths slowly moving all the departed belongings out, Meathead came to the quick conclusion that the data was still here, perhaps on a different computer. Some old signs still remained about the building, Science wing on the left side of the building, Lecture halls first and second floors, Math department on the right, Adminstration and Accounting top floors.

Stationed all throughout the university and campus grounds, Meathead counted a total of Eighteen synths.

“I'm scared,” Sea Shell admitted. “I think the Synths will do something bad after it's found.” She said, not knowing what it was everyone's looking for.

“<Yeah, me too. But, I have a few ideas to make sure they wont be a problem. I might find a backup drive.>”

It came to no surprise that none of the ponies were especially computer savvy, and when Meathead arrived at the Dean's office, the door was locked and handle broken off. The door knob was laying broken and bent off on the ground, kicked away down the hall and left to sit there.

“<Anyone been in here?>” He asked.

“Yeah, but it locks every time it closes,”

Pressing on the door, Meathead used his magic to flip the lock, which caused one synth in the hall to spring into action. “Activity Detected,” It droned out.

“<Crab Cake, take Sea Shell and get away. Now!>”

Meathead went into the Dean's office as Crab Cake swept up Sea Shell with one leg and threw her onto his back, galloping down the hall. Throwing the door shut, it locked with an audible latch clicking into place, and a moment later the synth was pounding on the door.

The Dean's office was ostensibly the least decrepit room in the whole building, but small enough to get a job done. Taking one look at the computer, it was one of the nicer models that survived the years of neglect.

All while waiting for the computer to boot up, Meathead heard the pounding double, a second Synth joined the first. Thankfully, the former dean purchased a sturdy door thicker than any other in the entire building.

“<Come on, come on.>” He bemoaned the inanimate object, finally the start up screen appeared and Meathead could access the hard drive.

Folders for chat logs, and dates time stamped, there was only two items that caught Meathead's attention, a chat log regarding the overblown budget for an expansion to the SCUB.

One of the messages sent to the dean from Accounting was titled 'Wasting way too much damn money on this project of yours.”

“<Student Credit Union Bank Expansion...>” Meathead skimmed the rest, knowing where to check next, but now the door was starting to give. Meathead deleted everything from 2075-2077. Opening a new file, he wrote 'October 22^nd 2077 Project budget deemed too expensive, Reactor Efficiency project disbanded, data sent to CIT, Cambridge for further anaylsis...” Right as he clicked the save button, the three synths barged into the room, with a fourth and fifth waiting in the hallway. Meathead moved to be by the window, forcing the panel open as the synths went straight for the computer. Climbing out the window onto the balcony, the synths were gleaming every last bit of information they could from Meathead's false lead.

From his third story perch, he spotted Hancock and Deacon a safe enough distance away, but behind Meathead, back in the Dean's office, the synths were talking to each other.

“Logic, Data regarding Reactor Efficiency relocated to CIT Cambridge.”

“Logic. Data is not found at South Boston University Point.”

“Logic. Site designated South Boston University Point is no longer objective.”

“Logic. Returning to pre-condition mode, Clear, purge, and dismantle site of all creatures, humans, and Institute required resources.”

Meathead only reacted, he didn't think about anything else except hearing the threat the synths just uttered. Firing off a red flash of bright light to Deacon and Hancock, the synths were all raising their weapons, the shooting started almost immediately after.

The only word that came to mind to warn the other ponies of the imminent danger was to scream, “<RUN!>”

“Logic. You are property of the Institute. Do not resist.”

Floating two grenades back through the window, he dropped out of view as a volley of blue laser blasts fired through the opening.

There were screams, but above those screams were warping noises, like the crackling of lightning through power lines surging with too much energy, then the screams vanished.

Meathead saw ponies being abducted, he didn't know who was first, but the Nut brothers were surrounded in the campus lawn by three synths with laser rifles pointed at them, then all of them disappeared in a blue glow.

Jumping off the third story, the entire office errupted in a blast of loud noise, collapsing the whole front entrance. The building had taken plenty of pounding waves from the ocean in the rear for two centuries and had held, but the blast in the face shook the whole building. The atrium entryway fell in, the rotten boards finally giving up after inertia and mold was keeping the entire thing stuck together.

“Mother fuckers!” Meathead couldn't help but take on a few of Nate's angrier emotions, two synths on the rooftops were firing down at Quark and Styles, but only to herd them towards other waiting synths.

Tin Hut was the first pony to pick up a rifle and fire at the synths, but his valiant effort in destroying one made all the other synths now choose him as a target.

Meathead took his rifle, Righteous Authority and fired at the synths to break their focus. Tin Hut was pinned down in a coffee stand in the direct center of campus, being shot at from all sides. His only saving grace was that the stand was made of concrete, and not his own namesake.

“Logic, the land is property of the Institute, all hostiles will be eliminated.”

“I'm not letting you have one fucking inch!” Tin Hut shouted, but it was in vain since he couldn't even poke his head up to fire back without getting scorched.

Meathead fired off volt after volt of energy, burning holes through their plate armor and joints. Firing at all of them, to break the suppressing fire trapping Tin Hut from his concrete fort.

One synth went down, then a second. Laser blasts were flying all around the campus, and Tin Hut was able to hit one in the chest, knocking it down, but not out.

More energy cells loaded into his rifle, Meathead pulled on the trigger twenty times in a five second burst, missing as much as he was hitting, Tin Hut was able to stay up long enough to land a clean shot against a synth's skull, obliterating the head cavity and sending parts and pieces everywhere.

\111/

Poppy Cake screamed, three synths were approaching her, and the eerie blue glow was surrounding all of them. She could feel her hair rising, electricity in the air, like she was about to be zapped.

“<Oh no you fucking don't!>” She heard, and suddenly she couldn't breathe. She was wrapped in a green-burning fire of energy, being jerked and yanked sideways through the material plane. One force was trying to teleport her, the other was keeping her anchored to the spot, but she was being split in two. The dueling energies around her made her scream as she felt her vision fade between blinding lights and the cold dark ground.

“<Fucking! Let. Her. Go!>”

The crack of machine guns firing and bullets bearing down on the synths broke the connection, but the teleportation matrix went wild.

Deacon and Hancock were close enough to take action as the three synths were ripped apart molecule by molecule along with the floorboards, the walls, and entire section of the pharmacy and upstairs floors all suddenly vanished like a giant ice-cream scoop came and carved a perfect round sphere out of reality.

Meathead's black chitin was exposed, smoldering like he'd just been pulled out of the ashes of a burning fire, smoke pouring out of his pores, he was drained, exhausted and breathing heavily, but he barely kept Poppy Cake on this side of the plane. When Poppy could breathe again, she cried, feeling a pain in her head, blood running down her nose and face, blubbering and unable to understand the head-trauma that just occurred.

All the synths were gone.

“Meat! What the hell happened?” Deacon asked, “You alright?” stooping down, Meathead hadn't even moved or raised his head to address Deacon or anything since the snap. “Are you gonna be alright?”

"<Faaa..r out, that hurt>."The tiniest of nods and a moaned sigh was enough to satisfy him.

“Poppy?!” Crab Cake shouted, looking for her. “Poppy!”

Hancock licked his lips, put his pointer finger and thumb together and pressed them to his teeth and whistled loud enough to hail Crab Cake from the other side of the campus. “Betch'a didn't know I could still do that?” He joked to Deacon.

Crab Cake was shaking as he arrived, emotions gripping him as he ignored the smoking changeling and two arrivals. “Poppy? Poppy?” He asked as he grabbed ahold of her, wrapping her in a tight embrace. She sobbed and cried into his shoulder.

As Tin Hut crawled out of his stand, nerves shaking so violently he couldn't even grip his rifle any more. He was still rocking and shifting left and right on his hooves, the tremor in his voice and teeth were chattering, but didn't stop him from speaking, “You...What Happened? Who...are you?”

Meathead lifted his head up, finally drawing his first deep breath in what felt like hours, when only seconds passed.

“<Is your kid alright?>”

“What?”

“<The kid.>” Meathead stated. “<Your kid. The girl.> He sighed a deep breath, "<Sea Shell. Is she alright?>”

“What's it matter to you? Liar. Rosie was right, you're not a pony.” Crab Cake stated.

“<That.>” Meathead said, standing up to his full height, “<Is not an issue. And while I am not a pony, the question remains. Is your daughter alright?>”

“She's fine.” Crab Cake flatly stated, not wanting to give up any more information. “What are you then?”

Meathead drew in a shuttered breath, then as a collective, everyone heard and noticed the downed synth Tin Hut shot, crawling towards them.

Hancock and Deacon both reacted first, obliterating the synth in a wave of shotgun rounds and bullets.

“<Fuck!>” Meathead shouted, “<Fucking damnit. They fucking saw me. Fuck!>” Shaking, he was overcome with a fresh wave of day-dream nightmares of being exposed and seen.

“What happened?” Poppy asked finally. “Who are you?”

“<My name is Meathead, I'm a changeling. I can detect life forces and tell if they're real of fake synths in disguise. I'm the Institute's worst nightmare, and they just found out that I exist and know exactly where I am right now. Deacon, Hancock? We gotta leave. I don't know how long we have, but on the other end of this the Institute is dealing with that,> Pointing to the missing volume of building, <and we have until they clean it up to get the hell out of here.>”

Tin Hut, Crab and Poppy Cake with their daughter Sea Shell was all that was left. “Wait.” Crab Cake said. “Not before you tell me what you did, and what you found that made all the synths go crazy.”

“<In the Dean's office there was a computer, logs with files that told me there's a secret expansion inside the bank over there. I deleted everything and wrote instead that the hard-drive, the data the Institute was looking for, was sent out to the Commonwealth Institute of Technology in Cambridge on October 22^nd. 2077. The day before the bombs fell. I created a false lead for them to go chase after in their own backyard instead of having any more reason to stick around here and find it eventually themselves. They took in the message, and that's when the synths programming told them to purge and kill University Point of all witnesses. About ten seconds after that was when they started kidnapping and abducting everyone. Tin Hut was the only one I saw who made himself appear a threat because he was holding a weapon. You satisfied?>” Meathead knew his reply.

“No,” Crab Cake said, looking towards the SCUB. “I wanna see what it is everyone's been after killing each other over for.”

Meathead sighed, “<I can sense your daughter's emotions. She's still scared and is waiting for her father to come back. Go grab her while we get the doors open.>” Meathead tried taking a step but immediately went down to all fours. A little concern and worry from Deacon and Hancock was enough to get him back onto his feet again, but moving at a snail's pace.

Poppy Cake sat on the ground, gathering herself and sniffling. Tin Hut came to her side and rubbed her back, but he was looking around at the college campus university, and Meathead could sense their despair.

“<We have a Miss Nanny Bot, a Dr. Curie, who can take a look at your head.>” Meathead said.

Poppy Cake's response was a fresh wave of tears and crying, but it was relief. She broke down sobbing again, but Meathead knew she felt glad. She was nodding and weeping, and Tin Hut did his best to console her until Crab Cake returned with Sea Shell.

\111/

The inside of the SCUB was a two-clerk teller office, with cash registers and a wall of personal safes was quickly filled by the group of seven. It took Deacon all of five seconds to spot the construction additions that hinted at re-wiring. With a set of keys left by the former clerk, they broke open the safes and found a panel that hid the doors to the secret vault inside the SCUB.

A laboratory with a fusion core generator with two big wires, a positive and a ground, hooked up to a electric diode in the middle of the room on a table. Sitting there was a modified laser rifle, and all around it were notes and blueprints surrounding the research.

“That's it?” Crab Cake asked. “Everyone's after a gun?” Shaking his head, he disapproved that all the violence in the last month was because of the weapon in front of him.

“'<Deacon, you're up.>” Meathead said.

He was already gathering and collecting everything he could, notebooks, loose papers, and even the laboratory computer terminal. Yanking off the plastic cover, he pulled the hard-drives for later, “This is what everyone's after. The gun...” He trailed off, pouring over the notes, Hancock was the first to pick it up and examine it.

“Typical model, but they rebuilt the whole core. Wouldn't know how to make this myself.”

“Well, according to the research here. That laser rifle isn't supposed to run out of ammo. Ever.” Deacon said, checking between two pages back and forth. “ At least for the next 10 to 13,000 years or so or if the parts don't wear out first. So kind of like forever.”

“Sweet Celestia,” Crab Cake cursed. “What are you going to do with it?”

“Dismantle it. Take it to the Railroad and have them recreate the entire experiment from the ground up. See if we can reproduce more and make it available for everyone.” Deacon said.

“And what about the rest, all this? This lab?” Tin Hut asked, Hancock was quick to reply.

“Oh don't you worry about all this. I got this one taken care of.” He said, pulling out a lighter and a cigarette. His gaze landed on a sleeping bag and mats tucked away in the corner of the lab, and then to bottles of kerosene for cooking left by the scientists who ate, slept, and worked in this lab around the clock. Humming as he went to work, the tune was 'Yo Ho, Blow the man down.'

“Sea Shell, it's time to get out of here.” Poppy said, seeing the fire building in Hancock's eyes.

The filly took one last look at the laser rifle before being escorted out the door. Her eyes locked with Meathead for a moment, the wonder and curiosity overwhelming her sense of fear. She was fascinated with the changeling.

“You. Meat. Were you lying about Concord?”

“<No, Lotta Rosie should be there by now, Thunderstruck should be there, Leighla and Cait should all be there by now.>”

“Who are they?”

“<They're your answer to the question of who's going to protect you from the Commonwealth once you're there. I sent them there to recover, same as you and your family will be doing. It's about a three hour walk from here. Stick West of Boston, Cross at Oberland Station, Beantown Brewey. You'll be in Red's territory by then. From there, it's the home stretch. Stay to the left of Lexington, Follow the Power lines North and West and you'll pass a farm that will put you right at the outskirts of Sanctuary Hills.>”

“Why should we trust you?”

Meathead let the silence between himself and Crab Cake weigh in for a moment. Tin Hut was listening, but the sounds outside the conversation of Hancock dumping flammable liquids all over the lab tables, grunting with an unlit cigarette clenched in between his teeth as he splashed the equipment, beds, and rest of the space.

“<There's nothing left for you here.>”

\111/