With heavy feet, I slipped through the doorway.
Right as the forcefield crackled back to life, and the alarm began to blare.
I smiled as I heard Elijah sputter in confusion, standing tall and turning to face the Vault. Through the safety of the humming plasma field, I could see the billowing crimson Cloud, dancing and roiling beneath grates and cat walks. Arcs of lightning flashed and crackled overhead, some of the only light present in that dim place, save for the golden light of the Madre's vault, all serving to illuminate the ancient concrete walls in brief and brilliant flashes, and dash the rusted metal corridors and frameworks with painful light.
It wasn't a straight shot to the Vault like I had hoped. The final phase of security was still active. There were automated turrets watching the area outside the vault, and more speakers. Even if I could have managed to slip past the force field, I'd still come under immediate fire. Even if I didn't, the speakers' broadcast range was still strong enough it could reach me from inside the metal corridors. Making things worse, they were the properly shielded ones, too. Couldn't break them anyway.
So I was forced to take a detour down the maintenance corridor. Turned out to be a boon in its own right. Learned from the first terminal that Sinclair had booby-trapped the elevator. Rigged it to return to the Penthouse once the Vault was opened, by default trapping anyone down there with no means to call it back. That wasn't even counting a 'deadman's switch' he'd included within the Vault's terminal that would permanently lock it in place. A few notes I'd found from the former workers said they were aware it was a deathtrap. But Sinclair countered it by calling it 'user error'.
He'd known what Domino and Vera were plotting.
Hard to say for how long he'd known, but long enough.
Getting through the maintenance corridor wasn't much of a cakewalk either. With security active, the few holograms stationed down there were still patrolling. Though I made it, fumbling with terminals, and one particularly mad-dash across the crumbling catwalks to avoid them and the speakers. It was all too close for comfort, and if I hadn't already been wired with adrenaline I'd probably have been shaking.
The whole corridor turned into a giant loop, circling its way around the area of the Vault. It took completing the loop before I found the terminal that let me deactivate the security measures, and in the same breath, send the elevator back to the penthouse, meaning I was trapped down there until someone came back down to get me. I could see that was going to be Elijah's play. Leave me down there to die of dehydration or hunger.
Which officially made him the smartest and laziest person I'd ever had to contend with by that point. Everyone else seemed content to try and kill me by force, he was the first to get creative about it.
But knowing that he was likely intent on trapping me down there, I was inclined to take my time. Explore my surroundings a bit more thoroughly before entering the Vault. Which is the only reason I know what happened to Sinclair and how the story of Madre ended. It started when I noticed the holotape sitting near the edge of the catwalk, outside the Vault.
Then the skeleton hiding beneath the Cloud.
The holotape had clearly been ripped from a terminal, judging by bits of fragmented code attached to it. A hasty alteration. The note was a vindictive and spiteful denouncing of Vera for her hand in helping Domino. Saying how she'd deserved to be trapped down there with him, and the Vault door was now locked. Permanently sealing them inside.
Sinclair's skeleton lay strewn over a pipe below, covered by the Cloud, alone save for a copy of Nikola Tesla and You next to him. Only realized it was him based on his clothes. There were just barely enough images of him around the Madre to recognize him. He'd have been one of the only two people with access as well. How he wound up down there was anyone's guess, but I imagine it had likely been an accident. A slip and fall, crack his head on the pipe, and lose-consciousness-in-the-Cloud-type accident. In a way, it seemed a more peaceful end than anyone else in this place had suffered.
But what he was doing down there, I didn't discover until I finally went into the Vault.
The door wasn't even locked.
It was a surreal feeling, standing inside the Vault. Like being inside a time capsule. Most of the Vaults I'd been to in the Mojave, the fallout shelters, were decrepit and crumbling, save for 21. While the Madre's Vault hadn't been intended for extensive use, it hadn't been used at all. Everything inside was as preserved as the day it had been put in there. Not that it would do any good.
Chems.
Food.
A fully stocked armory. Guns. Ammo. Armor.
Mountains of Old World cash.
One of the Madre's vending machines.
There was even an un-decayed radio sitting in the corner.
But most precious of all: Gold.
Gold Bars. Bullion. Each bar almost as long as my forearm and weighing over thirty pounds apiece. Pounds.
Even if I was inclined to sell them, I would never find anyone who could give me their true worth.
But I took them. All of them.
I took everything that wasn't nailed down, and would have taken more if I'd brought a hammer.
If there was no bait in the trap, the Madre wouldn't be much of a prize for anyone. And I was owed a massive bill for having to deal with this place.
Though admittedly, the greed had gotten to me in the end. Getting out with it would prove a challenge.
But there was still one more thing I needed to do.
I checked the terminal in the Madre's vault. The one that connected to every subsystem and piece of machinery operating in the Casino and Villa.
There I found one final message from Sinclair to Vera.
An apology.
Sinclair knew what Vera had been forced to do. Knew what Domino had coerced out of her. Had she not chosen to reveal the truth to Sinclair, it would have meant her being trapped down there as well. Instead, Sinclair tried to change everything, do everything in his power to keep her from becoming trapped. But he'd built the trap too well. Couldn't fix it. The note ended with a warning not to access the parts he'd left for Domino to find. There was a final declaration of his love for Vera, one sided though he knew it to be, and his intent to check the pipes outside the Vault. One final vain attempt to disarm the trap. Which explained some of why he was there.
In the end Vera had been trapped all the same.
Domino nowhere to be seen.
Now the tragic tale was finally at an end.
But there was one more monster to deal with.
Sinclair had given me a way to do it.
Elijah contacted me via the computer system not long after. Did what I thought he would do, try to trap me down there. Wait me out in comfort, while I starved and desiccated. But I played the fool, asked questions like I hadn't already pieced everything together. Made thinly veiled taunts about him hiding, knowing he was actually trapped like the rest of us. I used it to get after what I really wanted: Answers.
Why was he there? Why go through all this trouble for some salvage and scrap?
The answer was more obvious than I'd expected.
He wanted the Madre itself. All the tech it held, all its weapons.
He was going to use them to scour the Mojave and wipe everything clean.
I didn't like that idea.
I kept the banter up for a time. learned about where he'd gotten the collars from, how he found the Madre. How his mind cracked like an egg during the Brotherhood's battle to keep Helios One. His visits to places I knew nothing about: The Divide, The Ciphers further west, the Big Empty. How the collar around my neck had once been used to handle pre-war 'compliance' issues. Figures, one more Old World curse that got passed down. But he spoke of the Courier, the one Christine had mentioned. How they'd been in that place, the Big Empty. A graveyard of Old World science and tech. The birthplace of so much of the Madre's troubles.
I grew less and less keen on the place the more I heard of it. Only gave more reasons to stay away from it.
Only more so, when he mentioned that the Ghost People got their suits from there.
But then it all drew to a close. I'd gotten everything I could out of there, and couldn't play the fool any longer. Elijah was going to leave me down there if I didn't make a play. But in that same gesture, he'd over extended himself. He told me what it was he wanted most out of this place.
He gave me bait.
So I put it in the trap.
Told him all I had to do was start breaking things. He barely understood the tech inside the Madre to begin with. Hadn't had enough time to start properly dissecting everything. I could destroy it before he ever had a chance to use any of it for himself. Make everything he'd done worthless.
He took it hook, line, and sinker.
The moment the feed between us was cut, I put myself in motion. Loaded up with everything I could carry, and more. I don't know how I managed to keep myself from being crushed under the weight of it all. But I was still standing, still moving.
It's one of the few times I've ever freely chosen to indulge in chems. Buffout at first. Something to give me the final push of power I needed. Relied on my assassin suit for some extra cover. Would've preferred a Stealthboy, but I hadn't found one. Had to improvise.
Sneaking past Elijah, carrying all that weight, was one of the most tense situations I'd gone through. If he realized I was there, I'd be a sitting duck. No way I could move fast enough to get out of the way, carrying everything on my back. I'd be dead before the rest of me had a chance to know it.
I had to get close to Elijah too, getting past him. I could make out the look of him better than I could over the Holograms. The scraggly, weather-beaten face. The messy and hardscrabble cut of his hair and beard. The look in his eye of madness turned in on itself. How emaciated and wiry his body was, a product of chem abuse.
Everything about him screamed he'd long since left conventional health behind. He was operating on the level of unkillable madness that few possessed, left them wound up tighter than a spring. All the harder to kill.
Maybe I could have taken him, put him down.
But not with the collar. Certainly not with how overburdened I was.
I had to break my own rule about chems a second time.
Turbo is a dangerous drug, far more than any other. But when you need to move fast, faster than anything else, it does the job.
The moment Elijah was past me, I breathed the poison into me and was off like a shot.
It had all been too close.
But I made it.
The alarm blared. The trap sprung.
I just couldn't help but smile.
"The alarm- what!?" Elijah hissed, scanning the room. Quickly, his scraggly features settled on me, glaring through the translucent wall of the force field. "YOU."
"'Sup fucko," I asked, feeling the Turbo ebb its way through my system. "Enjoying the view?"
He answered with violence.
The weapon he carried, a Gauss rifle, swung towards me and fired. A hypersonic piece of metal crashed into the force field hard enough to shake the corridor. Send ripples through the system. But the barrier of electric blue light held. Nothing passed through it. Not even a whisper of wind.
"Oooh, that was a close one," I said. "Little more to the left next time, could nail right between the eyes."
His trainwreck of a face twisted up in a snarl as he began to fiddle with a Pip-Boy at his wrist, no doubt believing he knew everything he needed to about the Vault.
When security remained active, I watched the confusion roll over his face.
"That's not going to work," I told him.
He looked at me.
"You're sitting in a closed circuit," I told him. "No way out, unless someone chooses to free you."
The color drained from his features as panic flooded in. He went back to his Pip-Boy, as his fury tried to rally itself. "You- YOU!" He roared. "Release me! Or I'll blow your damn collar!"
"Would you?" I asked.
He pressed a button on his Pip-Boy.
There was a warble from my collar, then a fizzle. Nothing else.
Crazy bastard.
I laughed. "The electronic shielding dampens the signals out of here, jackass," I told him. "Looks like you've lost your leash."
The panic rushed back into his face.
I took my helmet off. Smiled at him with a big, toothy grin. "Look at me… LOOK AT ME!"
He did, not because I ordered it, but because he was at a complete loss. There was nothing more he could do.
"Remember my face," I told him, letting weeks of frustration, fear and anger settle into it. "Remember it! I'm the last person you're ever going to see." I could feel my breath beginning to hitch, moving in big, heaving gasps. "You're going to die down here, alone! No one will find you, come for you, nothing! You have no power over me, nor anyone else now. You'll never hurt anyone ever again, and you will be forgotten… Veronica, Christine… They're free of you now." I felt a wave of satisfaction roll over me, and the smile on my face became genuine. "And so am I."
I flipped him the bird and began down the corridor back to the Elevator. The Exit.
"Wait… Wait!" Elijah howled. "Y-you can't!"
I didn't respond.
"T-the Madre- there's so much, we- we could rule together!"
I reached the end of the corridor and pressed the call button for the elevator. The door opened immediately.
I climbed inside.
"YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO M-" Elijah called.
Then the door shut. Silence followed.
It was a slow ride back to the top.
I tuned into Elijah's frequency. Listened to him for a time. Heard him threaten, curse, and bargain with the dead air. Hoping I would return and let him out.
I cut him off halfway through.
That was the last I ever saw or heard of Father Elijah.
After that, it was a smooth ride back up to the Penthouse. I think it only took as long as it did because I was carrying so much with me. The fact the safety cut outs for weight hadn't kicked in was a stroke of luck, really.
Once I was back up top, the doors opened.
I found Christine waiting there.
An Automatic Rifle was pointed at the Elevator.
She looked at me.
I looked at her.
"… Is he dead?" she asked.
"No." I told her. "But he'll never harm anyone again. The Vault's a giant trap, he just got caught in it. As long as no one sends the elevator down for a few weeks, time will take care of him for us."
Christine nodded, pursing her lips. She looked me over. "… Did you really need to?"
"Take all of it?" I asked. "No… But, I mean, something for our troubles, right?"
Christine huffed, then gave me a warm smile. "Thank you…"
I merely nodded. We were both better for knowing he was gone.
What followed after was the two of us taking our time to go over things, set the Madre in order. We took Vera's remains and laid them in the bed. Closest we could give her to a proper burial. Lay her to rest, covered by a silken cloth. After that we loaded my haul of crap onto a room service caddy and carried it back down through the casino. After maybe another hour, we were free to go. The security overrides I'd found in the basement re-opened the front door. After centuries of being closed, the Madre was finally open to the world. For all the good that did.
We descended the hill back to the Villa in near silence. Watching carefully ahead of us as we went. But I couldn't see them. Couldn't hear them.
The Ghost People were gone. Back underground, hiding in their shadowy corners. Waiting.
But they stayed out of our way.
As we walked back through the Fountain Plaza, I pulled us to the side. Stopped at the trash can I'd stashed all of my salvage in. It was time to leave, and I had no plans of ever returning to this place.
"So this is it then," Christine said. "It's over."
"Yeah, for me and you," I told her. "Elijah's not a threat anymore. The only thing keeping us here is five seconds from deactivating completely. Best of all, there's nothing keeping you from reuniting with Veronica, eh?"
"… Yeah," Christine answered.
I loaded my salvage onto the caddy and began to push it towards the gate out of the Villa. "C'mon, don't know the way back, so this might take a while. Better not to burn daylight here, eh?"
I got no answer.
"…Christine?" I asked, looking back.
She was turned towards the Madre. Staring up at it.
I began to feel my heart sink. Whatever came next, I knew it wouldn't be good.
"Christine?" I asked, again.
She turned and looked at me. The scars on her face had softened, and there was a sad light in her eyes.
"…You need to go," she said. "Just keep moving."
"…Fuck no," I said, leaving my caddy behind. "I'm not doing that, we're getting out of here together-"
"No, we're not," Christine answered, sadness blooming on her face. She swallowed, painfully. "I knew, chasing Elijah, that there was only going to be one way it ended… both of us dead."
"But you're not!" I protested.
"I AM!" Christine snapped, face scrunching in pain as she clasped at her throat. "I never thought I'd… have the chance to see Veronica again… But the girl she knew? She's dead, Six… I killed her. Not Elijah. Me." Her hand moved up her face. "I don't look like her… I don't act like her…" She let out a small, bitter chuckle. "I don't even sound like her now… She's gone… She has been for a long time."
"No she's not," I told her, bargaining. "Veronica would know, please, Christine, think about her. You have no idea how rough things have been for her, trying to move on with the Brotherhood… Please. Please, Christine."
"… Veronica would know," Christine answered, her lips pressing into a thin line. Her eyes grew red as tears began to sting them. "She would know that girl is gone too… She deserves to hold onto that memory. Not see what happened to her… What I did to her."
I tried to think of something I could say. Some fact or quirk of character that could convince Christine she could- that she needed to come back. See just how much Veronica missed her and what they had.
But the only word I could muster, was a pathetic little "No…"
Christine's lips pressed into a sad smile, and she walked up to me. She wrapped her arms around me, and paused. She looked me in the eyes, easy without my helmet on. I could see everything in her eyes there, in that moment. The windows to the soul. All that sadness. All that pain and hardship. But at the core of it all, a light. Something that was still burning and refused to go out.
She kissed me.
It was a long, slow, deep gesture that caught me completely off guard when it happened.
When she pulled back, she released me, and gave me a sad look.
"If you're a courier, find a way to deliver that for me… ok?" she asked. "… But don't ever let her know you saw me, where you found me."
All I could manage was "Christine…"
"… Don't ever come back here," Christine said, voice softening, growing thin. "Don't tell her… Don't want her here. In danger… There's nothing here but ghosts."
Without another word, she walked away from me. Silently she stalked down one of the side streets, disappearing into the shadows of the Madre.
I took a moment to collect myself. Make the pain and weariness that collected in my chest go away.
That was the last time I ever saw or heard from Christine Royce.
…
My Pip-Boy chimed not long after I closed my eyes. At least, it felt like I'd only just laid down. No sooner had my head hit the pillow than I found myself roused back to the land of the living.
The only difference being, I was sober again.
That bottle of whiskey hadn't gone as far as I'd thought it would. The fact it was still lying on the bed next to me, now empty, said enough. It had barely been enough to do anything, I had more of a hangover from the lack of sleep than I did from drinking. Wouldn't have minded either one, if I could just roll over and go back to sleep. Unfortunately, I had a promise to keep, which meant getting up earlier. At least the bed had been comfier, while it lasted. A bit too soft for my taste, but better than sleeping on a cot.
After taking a moment to loosen up and knock the sleep out of my eyes, I snuck back out of Tukson's former bedroom. Everyone was still congregated in the living room, fast asleep and sawing more timber than a lumber mill. They were all strewn about oddly, spread over the floor, sprawled on the furniture. A couple of odd notes were Ruby and Weiss, the latter of whom was angled just right to kick the former in the face on reflex, but they were hardly the only strange ones.
If either Nora or Ren were awake to see how I'd found them, I imagine it'd have been hilarious. Never would've pegged Ren for the cuddling type.
Zwei was about where I'd seen him the previous night, still snuggled beside Yang, who'd eventually nodded off, after a change of clothes and shower. Blake seemed to have rather pointedly put space between herself and him, having sprawled onto a chair. Oddly enough, Jaune and Pyrrha seemed to be the most peaceful sleepers out of the group. Found them lying side by side. Platonically.
Some people just don't get it.
Zwei's ears twitched and his head swung up to me as I slipped into the room. He gave me a doggy grin, and a yawn, before settling back to sleep.
Then I noticed Penny leaning sitting against the wall. Her eyes fluttered open as I moved into the kitchen, fetching my hair-of-the-dog. She gave me a curious look, and I returned a shush-ing gesture in turn. No sense in waking everyone else up. She nodded, grinning, and closed her eyes. I didn't know if she could actually sleep, or just enter a 'sleep' mode, but I hoped she was comfortable. Or whatever passed as comfort for her. Never occurred to me before then to wonder what passed as comfort for a robot, had never asked ED-E before. Or the Appliances of the Think Tank, for that matter. I'd have to ask Penny later.
I tipped back my hair-of-the-dog, the taste dulled by sitting out all night, and slipped out the door. A quick jaunt to the front door of the shop had me outside in the early morning air. Cooler than it had been in previous days, but still carried the clinging dew of humidity. The sun had begun to rise somewhere on the horizon, behind the buildings and towers of Vale, dying the early morning sun in shades of ruby and orange. Normally a beautiful sight. But it carried another possibility. Storms. Rain. Hadn't seen many rainy nights in Vale. Less so rainy days.
Something poetic, given what was coming tonight. We were going to have a long day ahead of us. Between trying to intercept whatever the White Fang had planned, we had to find Sun, and raid their safehouses. Then there was the matter of Penny, and the fact that the White Fang were still actively trying to funnel whatever Dust was still in Vale; out. We were fighting an uphill battle.
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
But this first thing would be easy.
I'd promised Nora breakfast, she would get it.
Though seeing as we'd completely tossed the fridge the night before, I didn't have much to work with.
Which meant a grocery run.
Though I didn't expect anyone would be up any time soon either. They didn't seem used to this sort of thing. Would probably wind up sleeping until noon. Which I suppose made this more of a brunch than a breakfast.
The streets were mostly abandoned as I made my way down them. There were a few people out getting in some early morning exercise, a few police on patrol, the former of which actually worked in my favor. I ditched my normal Riot Gear for more relaxed clothing. Was even contemplating doing the same for my helmet. After last night's fiasco, there wasn't much telling who was paying attention anymore. Ruby and I had managed to avoid being seen by the police proper, but we hadn't exactly been subtle in almost any other regard.
Hopefully it would be enough. It was most other times.
Using my knowledge of Vale, I found my way to the nearest supermarket quick enough. The trip there ultimately did stay quiet, and it let me enjoy the early morning in relative peace. Bits of birdsong whistled through the masonry lined streets. A beautiful accompaniment to the stink of slowly warming asphalt. Despite that, there was a charm to the warm sunlight casting fresh rays over the buildings of Vale. Something quaint I couldn't put my finger on. Like I was seeing a glimpse of the Old World in its prime, before everything went to shit. Even if beneath the surface there was trouble brewing, that didn't change that even a place like Vale had its charms.
Character is something built over time, and places like Vale had a long time to build it. Especially when the alternative is the ravenous shadow monsters scratching at the gate.
After a short walk, I found my way to the supermarket. Recognized it easy enough. It was one I'd visited on occasion while patrolling. Didn't need to wait long outside, it was open 24 hours, minus a small window for general maintenance. Had to wonder if any of them ever actually got to leave that place. Must take a massive toll on their mental state, being stuck in a concrete box 24/7.
Once the doors were open, I went in and quickly got about my business. Got the staples: eggs, milk, coffee, flour, fresh fruit, cured meats and sausages. Then I went and collected the dried cereals and pre-made drinks, the juices and morning beverages. I'd promised a Continental Breakfast, and I'd keep my word on that. Considering I was feeding a crowd of nearly ten people, it made sense to grab more rather than less. Especially if I wanted to avoid making a second trip back the next morning.
After gathering enough food to feed a platoon of Brotherhood Knights, I brought my scavenge to the front. The person at the register observed me with the bright-eyed scrutiny of a morning-person. As they rang-up my total, I took note of the odd look they were giving me. That is to say, it was different from the normal odd looks I got. What it was I couldn't say for certain. It was like the motor was starting to turn over, but wasn't quite ready to start chugging. Whatever it was, it didn't matter at the time. They had me totaled and paid up fairly quickly, and I was out the door before they had time to backfire.
Normally, this is where I'd have just gone back to the apartment and started cooking. The morning had been an otherwise peaceful one, and there hadn't been anything of particular note up to that point. But there was one hitch that spurred up, as I'd been shopping: I recognized the grocery store. It had been the same one I'd had a brief encounter with the White Fang in.
The same one where I'd met some crazy old woman who knew what a Pip-Boy was.
The moment I realized that, my mind spun with the fact that I had an opportunity I normally didn't. The chance to possibly get some real answers for once.
So, as I stepped out of the supermarket, instead of turning back to Tukson's, I hooked the other way. My memory was clear enough about the path there, I'd made the trip at least twice from ground level. Once in either direction, technically. So it didn't take me nearly as long to get there. Even laden with a few extra bags of groceries.
As the sky continued to brighten, and the red hue of the early morning passed, I found myself there, outside of a store that looked no different from any other. Yet twice, now thrice, I'd found myself drawn back to.
'Brown's Antiques and Knick Knacks'
It was a simple, squat building. Brick and mortar, modern in appearance and recent in its upkeep. Looking fresh despite an understated sense of taste. Something old in it, classy. The massive show window having the shop's name embossed on it in gold lettering.
Part of me felt I should have paid more attention to it when I went in the first time. When I'd managed to get microfilm for my Pip-Boy. Even if that was something that had existed on Remnant, it should have stuck out more to me. But a lot of things hadn't, at that time. Still didn't. But this was a chance to remedy that, even if I was carrying half a market's worth of groceries. It was only a question of if I felt like playing by their rules or mine.
An easy decision, since the signage said they weren't going to open until 10.
I had better things to do than stand around waiting for several hours.
A quick glance over my shoulders to make sure I wasn't being tailed, and I went for the lock. Had it picked with a flick of the wrist, and a second spared to making sure there wasn't some form of alarm. Or booby-traps, uncommon though that idea was around Vale. Possibly illegal too, can't imagine the authorities would take kindly to someone rigging their front door with Wasteland-grade ingenuity. But, much like the first time I'd been there, the door was unguarded. No form of alarm was waiting either, electronic or mechanical.
I slipped inside and set my bags down. Mostly so if I needed to use my hands I could, the clothes I was wearing were lacking in pocket space.
The store looked about the same as the last time I was inside. Well kept, maintained, and full of old tchotchkes and paraphernalia. Most of it consigned to shelves and display cases, almost artfully and meticulously arranged. Weapons and furniture, clothes and electronics. There was seemingly no rhyme or reason to what was in the collection. Even the styles of the collected items varied by the item. Some were clearly from the kingdom around Vale, but others must have been from outside it as well. The cold tones I'd associate with Atlas in articles of clothing. Thin, elegant construction in the furniture that I could recognize from pieces of Mistral artwork Oobleck had shown in class, and from Blake's books. And although my knowledge of what Vacuo's culture was like was lacking, some of the ceramic and glass work likely came from there. Carrying with them tribal elements that stuck out from everything else. The electronics and computers were another story. It was hard to tell where any of it specifically came from. What there was of the newer stuff, resembled the scroll in my pocket. Physically alien, if functionally similar.
As I crept slowly through the shop, however, I began to take note of things. The way some of the electronics looked, the styles of some of the older clothes hanging about. They were in line with what I would find in some ruins. This wasn't necessarily a surprise. When I'd come through before, I'd noted how similar our two worlds had been, once upon a time. But now, with the knowledge I had, things began to click into place. I could pick out Old World outfits, even a park stroller outfit like the one I'd once worn. What old electronics and appliances I could see weren't far off from the vacuum tubes and copper wiring I was familiar with. Even if they were separated from the appropriate power source.
But it was as my eyes passed over a certain item that things clicked into place. That some of this mess once came from the Wasteland. Maybe not the Mojave, but definitely Post-Apocalyptia.
It was a lever-action rifle. One Ruby had looked at the last time we were there.
There wasn't anything special about it. It was an old rifle for certain, extremely old. The receiver was made of polished and engraved brass, the sights a classic ladder and post configuration. The finish of the wood had long gone dull, but held strong. There was no side gate for loading the ammo, but the lead at the bottom of the tube and mount at the muzzle said it fed from that end.
Beyond its age, there was nothing that stood out about it.
Which is why it stood out.
It was one of the few weapons I'd seen that was, simply, a single weapon.
I leaned in close to inspect the engravings on the receiver. Amongst all the scroll work, I could make out writing that was engraved on there as well. Set in an oval of unblemished and polished metal.
The moment I did, my heart almost stopped.
Lincoln
President
U.S.A.
Of course, it wasn't the words alone that had nearly sent me into cardiac arrest.
It was the sound of a closing break-action.
"Stay still," a voice ordered. "Move, and I'm gonna have to repaint the wall."
I complied with the instructions, assuming that trying to outrun a trigger like that wouldn't end well. VATS could make the difference, buy me the few seconds I needed. But I hadn't come looking for a fight in the first place, I was just impatient.
"Turn around," The voice ordered, a man's voice, had the croak of age and a drawl to it. The same tone of sagged timbers and heavy stone. "Hands up, slow. Don't give me any excuses."
Again, I complied, turning slowly and evenly, keeping my hands up and visible. Turned to my right, facing towards the back of the shop. At a door that led into a back room, possibly a hallway given what I could see, there was a man standing in the doorway, naturally. I could recall having briefly met him once before, in that exact store, under different circumstances. He wasn't a tall man, under six feet. Shorter than me by a margin, which didn't say much. But he was powerfully built. Could see that through the red silk pajamas and fuzzy slippers. The kind of guy who looked like he would wrestle yao guai for fun. Could've mistaken him for a supermutant, if he wasn't roughly four feet too short. He did not, however, completely match the man I remembered seeing. He was of a darker complexion, mixed race I had to guess. Bit of a rounded head and pointed chin. But he was strong jawed and full lipped, narrow nosed and wide eyed. He was older but couldn't say by how much, he carried it well. Blue eyes, black hair that was going gray from the root out. Further along now, so likely his natural color. His hair was coarse, but otherwise straight. It was a bit mussed, but done in a fashion similar to a High Rise.
"You ain't supposed to be here," the man said
"I'm getting the impression neither are you," I told him
"Hell I'm not, it's my store. And my home," he shot back, then paused a moment looking me over "… Ain't I seen you before?"
"Stopped in once," I told him "Sold me some microfilm maps."
He paused a moment longer, before his eyes lit up in recognition. "Oh yeah! You came in with that silver-eyed girl!" He shifted his aim, but didn't lower the gun. "Was wondering if I'd have to worry 'bout you coming back."
"Doesn't sound like you enjoyed my business," I told him, watching the muzzle of his gun. He didn't have a Pip-Boy that I could see, but I didn't want to test his trigger finger. Yet.
"Might enjoy it more if you came back during business hours," He retorted, eyes scanning me in turn. "Wasn't expecting to run into someone wearing a Pip-Boy either."
"Glad we're clear we both know what it is," I said, beginning to feel a tingle in my arms from keeping them up. "… So how's this gonna play? You gonna shoot me for trespassing, or are we gonna settle this like we're in the wasteland?"
"That depends on you," The man answered. "I'm not the one burgling in the wee hours of the morning."
I shrugged. "I ain't got any intention of taking anything, or causing further trouble," I told him. "Admittedly, wasn't my brightest idea breaking in, but I'm used to people not dealing straight with me either."
"…" The man nodded. "Fair."
He still did not, however, lower his aim. Being as he was from the wasteland, he at least knew better. He stayed watching me for a moment, and I him. After keeping it up long enough to make the reality of the situation clear, he spoke: "I'm gonna ask you something, and I expect you to answer truthfully. You manage that, we'll see how things go."
I wasn't surprised he might have questions. Frankly, I'd had several raised in these first few moments alone. "Alright… ask."
"Does the number 76 mean anything to you?" The man asked.
"…Not particularly, no." I answered, confused.
The man looked at me like I had a screw loose, and didn't say otherwise.
As we stood there though, a new sound slowly echoed out of the hall behind the man. It was descending, coming from higher up, the next floor. Must have been a set of stairs behind him. The sound was slow, rhythmic. Tap, Thump-thump, tap, thump-thump. It wasn't really clear until they'd descended the stairs fully. Removed much of the space for it to echo and muddy. Made me wonder how I'd missed the man in the first place.
Footsteps.
"Who is it, Lee?" another voice croaked. Old, worn, a little crotchety. Unmistakably the softer tones of a woman's voice.
"'Member that wastelander I told you about?" the man answered, not turning away from me. "He came back."
There was a pause in the descent of the footsteps, before they resumed at an accelerated pace. A moment later, they reached the bottom of the stairs and bounded around the man, revealing a person attached to the sound. A small woman, elderly, with deeply tanned skin and silvered hair. A pair of highly technical goggles were affixed to her face like over-engineered glasses. She held a cane in her hands, the haft of it a thick and twisted wood, the head an ornately decorated blue skull. I recognized the woman almost immediately. Though the last time I'd seen her, she wasn't wearing bunny slippers. Or a bathrobe so thick with fluff and puff that she looked like an unshorn big horner. As she came around the man, she paused in the hallway and smiled. "Well, hello again young smart-ass."
"Ms. Maria," I answered, nodding. "… How are you wearing that right now? It's like 70 degrees out and the sun's not even up.
"I'm an old woman, boy, I get cold," she chuckled.
"You know him too?" the old man questioned.
"Yes, Lee, I know him. He was the young man who walked me here after the incident in the grocery store…" Maria looked past me, towards the front door, likely eyeing my bags. "There wasn't another one, was there?"
"No," I said, shaking my head. "Was just out doing some grocery shopping this morning, remembered a thing or two you'd said to me."
"So you decided to break into my friend's home to chat with me?" Maria asked, smirking. "I admire the initiative."
I started to lower my arms, sensing the situation was likely to be resolved peacefully. However, the man, Lee, whatever, only further tightened his aim on me. Right up until Maria swung an arm out and caught him in the stomach, bopping him. Being as she was about half his height, a little higher than, she could've caught him in the groin.
"Oh stop, Lee," Maria chided. "You know your aim is terrible, you'll blow out a window before you hit him. Do you really want to explain that to your neighbors?"
"… Don't like that he broke in." Lee answered, not lowering his gun.
"He's not going to hurt us either," Maria clucked. "I might be half blind and look like a raisin, but I could take him and you know it." As she spoke her tone grew more playful, and she smiled. "But you know I appreciate that you want to protect me so badly."
"…Hrm." Lee grunted, face flushing lightly. His hand went over the receiver of the shotgun and worked the latch, dropping the action open. He inclined his head to me, motioning towards the back. "Come in then, but wipe your feet."
I nodded, and calmly approached as the two of them, Lee and Maria, made their way into the back. Had to step around the sales counter, and there was a floor mat at the door for me to scrape off at. Rather than go back up the stairs, my two unintentional hosts had walked deeper into the back room. Which, really, felt more like the home of some hoarder, or tinkering madman. Scraps of clothing lay draped over stacks of books and magazines, Bits of metal and scrap archaically arranged along tables. Weapons hung from the walls, rested in bins and on racks. Most of them were of the overly engineered style I was growing accustomed to seeing on Remnant. But I could recognize the more simplified designs and styles of pre-war weaponry as well. There was everything from furniture and housewares to hunks of scrap and half-empty bottles of adhesive. All of which was, not only fairly pristine and restored, but in duplicates.
Definitely a Wastelander.
Even if it weren't for the obvious maintenance skills, the sheer amount of crap would've made it clear. And that was ignoring the biggest give away.
I walked down the short corridor into a small kitchen, still just as cramped and crammed full of junk as the corridor. As I entered the kitchen I noted the way it was designed, beneath all the clutter. It was reminiscent of the styles I'd seen around the strip, inside the casinos. That pre-war look, solid colors and blocky furniture. Black and white checkered tiling on the floor and stainless steel coated chairs. I'd seen no other place like it in my time there. It must've cost a small fortune in interior decorating. Didn't change the amount of clutter everywhere.
Lee and Maria went over to the table, Lee being a gentleman and pulling Maria's chair out for her. He then went over to a nearby counter and began fiddling with a small machine. Judging by the look, I guessed it was a coffee maker. They were a lot smaller than most of the ones I'd found in the wasteland. He began dumping grinds into the basket as Maria beckoned me over.
"Come, come," she said. "We'll be here all morning otherwise."
Considering I had dairy products that were currently sitting out, I decided to oblige. Spoiled milk made for terrible breakfast.
I sat down at the table, across from Maria. After a moment, Lee joined her, leaving the coffee machine to percolate.
"So, what'd you want to know?" Maria asked. "You thought it was important enough to break into my friend's home. So clearly you've got something on your mind."
"Being completely frank, I just wanted to know how you knew what my Pip-Boy was." I answered. "Figured I'd start with that, since no one else should know what that is."
"Not no-one, there are a handful of people who do," Lee answered. "But you're not likely to meet them in Vale."
"And I kinda started putting the pieces together after I got back in here," I said. "Should've put 2-and-2 together the first time I was in here… So, which one of you is from the wasteland?"
Lee motioned his hand up. "That'd be me. My turn: where'd you come from?"
"Question for question?... Alright." I nodded. "West Coast. Couldn't tell you origins, but I was last in the Mojave, before landing here. You?"
"East coast, Capital region," Lee answered.
"Seriously?" I asked. "Surprised anything's left over there."
"Could say the same for the West coast," he shrugged. "But there might not be anymore, I've been here for a long time."
I nodded, looking at him. If he was still in the wasteland, he'd have earned the sobriquet of 'Old'. Couldn't imagine a man of his age just suddenly appearing on Remnant just a few months prior. Most of the older crowd tended to be sedentary, unless something made them move.
"My turn," Maria cut in. "Have you ever been attacked by giant moths?"
"By what?" I asked. "You mean the little bugs that swarm lights?... No, but I have been attacked by giant bees before."
"Feh, we already have those," Maria scoffed.
"What about giant ants?" Lee asked.
"Those too, make a good fricassee," I answered.
Lee's expression soured.
"What is it?" I asked.
"… Nothing." Lee shook his head. "Had a friend who was doing something with them. Guess it didn't work out."
"My condolences," I said. Lee just shook his head again.
"… How did you get here?" Lee asked, after a moment.
"To Remnant?" I asked. "Fiddled with some technology and Science(!) I shouldn't have. You?"
"Same," Lee chuckled. "Literally stumbled into it. Saved my life, in more ways than one."
I noted the way Maria smiled coyly at that.
There was a pause, as I tried to think of what I should ask. Most of it was personal stuff, try to get a grasp on the man in front of me. I hadn't been expecting to run into another Wastelander after months of being there. Considering they'd apparently been on Remnant for far longer than I had, it was probably mutual.
Truthfully, there was something I needed to know. Beating around the bush wouldn't help either. But it didn't change the feeling of unease I got in my stomach. Seeing someone from the Wasteland, grown old so far from it.
"… I don't want to be rude, more than I have been already." I said, getting a heavy feeling in my stomach. "But there is something I need to know, since I now have someone else from the Wasteland in front of me."
Lee and Maria exchanged looks, before he leaned forward, against the table. "Alright… shoot."
I took a steadying breath. "… Is it possible to go back?" I asked.
Confusion grew on Lee's face. "Go back?"
"To our world," I explained. "I've been here for a few months now and… well, I haven't tried as hard as I should have to go back… but I need to, and you're the only other person I've met who's even remotely been in my shoes."
We sat there looking at each other for a moment, eyes boring into each other. I don't know what it was, but something about Lee grew defensive. "Why would you want to know something like that?"
I felt myself grow frustrated, but managed to muscle past. "I just need to, ok?" I said. "I… I've got unfinished business back home. I need to finish it."
This didn't seem to budge Lee. Frankly, I didn't expect it to. He didn't know my business, and I didn't need him to either. I was just some stranger to him, and I couldn't count on him being suddenly inclined to act charitably. For all he knew, my business was to go back and murder an orphanage and O.D. on Jet. But at that moment, I was willing to be pliable, whether he knew that or not. I just wanted some answers.
Another silence spread out before us. It finally broke, when Lee said: "I might tell you, but I've got some things I want to know. You answer me, and I'll try to help. Deal?"
I mulled the request over for a moment, but nodded. "I'll try, ask."
"Do you know what the Brotherhood is?" Lee asked.
"Of Steel?" I asked in return, and Lee nodded.
"Good… are you with them?" He asked.
"… Does it sound or look like I would be?" I asked. "They're not exactly a welcoming bunch… are you?"
"Used to be." Lee answered, scowling. "One of many young decisions I've lived long enough to regret… But you wouldn't use this technology for them, or hand it to them, would you?"
"Not a chance," I told him. "I'd sooner step on a plasma mine than do anything that helped those assholes."
"Putting it politely," Maria smirked.
"There's something else I need to know too," Lee continued. "It's arguably just as important as keeping this information out of the Brotherhood's hands."
"A'ight," I said.
"Does the name Dunwich mean anything to you?" Lee asked.
I didn't answer immediately. Normally I would have because, well, the name didn't mean anything to me. But as I was about to answer, it occurred to me, the way Maria and Lee were looking at me. The level of intensity in their faces. It was like they were asking me if I had the codes to the silos of the Divide. The name meant nothing to me, but it meant as much to them as my intervention did to Ulysses.
So I hesitated, studied them for a moment, pondering. Dunwich… had I heard a name like that? Not that I could recall. Was that a proper name or a sur?... "Who the hell names their kid Dunwich?" I asked.
"…" Lee exhaled slowly. "I'd like to know that too… Not expecting you to answer that."
"Ok, cool," I said. "… So, can you enlighten me?"
"… It's complicated." Lee said, after another pause. "Getting back is possible. I made a return trip myself, once, but I don't know why you'd want to do it."
"Again, that's my business." I told him. "But it is possible, right?"
Lee nodded. "Like I said, I made a return trip myself. It's possible."
I let out a slow breath. A weight I hadn't even realized was on my shoulders began to lift. I could get home. At the very least it was possible.
Unfortunately, that good mood didn't last.
"Just because it's possible doesn't mean it's easy," Lee said, eying me. "The first time I got here, it was different from how I went home and got here the second time."
"But it's possible," I said, trying to focus in. "Do you have it with you? They way you got there and back?"
"No," Lee answered firmly, "And if I did, I wouldn't tell you, and I'd be trying to actively destroy it."
I looked at Lee in confusion. I couldn't understand why he'd want to do something like that. But then I realized, I likely wouldn't want to know either. If it wasn't something he'd want in the Brotherhood's hands, it was reason enough to make sure it didn't wind up in anyone else's. But that also didn't help me.
"Ok, then how am I supposed to go back?" I asked.
"How am I supposed to know?" Lee asked. "Do I look like one of those magical-science types? I sell and repair antiques."
"Was just hoping for some guidance," I said, shrugging.
"Wrong guy," Lee said, then blew out a breath. "Look, there's not many people who'd even remotely have a clue about how to make something like that happen. Closest you might get are some of the Bigwigs over in Atlas. If you've got some idea of the thing that got you here, or better the thing itself, I recommend trying them. They've got some pretty neat stuff."
"…I'll take that under advisement," I lied. I was surprised by the suggestion. Taken aback, really. I'd imagine handing anything over to Atlas would be almost worse than handing it over the Brotherhood. At least the Brotherhood would squirrel it away to someplace it wouldn't be able to hurt anyone else. For all I knew, Atlas would immediately jump into war mode. They'd done the military equivalent of slapping their dick on the table for a festival. That should've said enough on the matter.
Of course, they'd also made Penny. So nothing was impossible. Just incredibly unlikely.
"If you don't mind my asking now, Why do you want to go back?" Maria asked.
"… It's home," I answered.
"… Well that's a load of crap if I've ever heard it," Maria said, succinctly. "Lee and I have been together long enough for me to know quite well what that world is like. If that's a home, it's an abusive one."
"It's got its charms," I answered firmly.
"So does Remnant," Lee said, shrugging. "Arguably more than the Wasteland."
"I'm going back all the same. Somehow," I said. "I'll find my way."
"Without Atlas," Lee said. "Or any other conceivable power to aid you."
"You make me sound like an idiot," I said.
Lee didn't say anything to that.
"No, just stubborn," Maria said, succinctly. Which Lee nodded in agreement with. I couldn't argue that either.
Lee rubbed his eyes and looked around the room briefly. After a moment his eyes locked onto a nearby clock. "Listen kid, it's early, and this is clearly a talk you're clearly not in the right mind to be having. Do me a favor and come back some time, alright? During business hours."
"So you can keep telling me I should stay?" I asked.
"So I can help you understand you should." Lee said, as if correcting me. "You've been here for months now. You can't tell me you've spent that whole time not building some kind of life."
"… Sorry for the mess," I said.
Without further pause, I got up from the chair and walked back down the way I'd come. I collected my bags by the front door and was gone just as quickly.
I couldn't give up.
I wasn't going to.
I had to get back.
Even if it never seemed like it, Cass was never far off my mind.
I had to get back to her. To Vegas. It had been a few weeks. I needed to check in with Ozpin. See if his friends had made any progress…
Slowly, I felt my eyes trail up towards the Atlesian Cruisers overhead. They really did have some neat stuff. Neat robotics, neat vehicles, neat resources.
Neat weapons.
They didn't need me to give them any pointers.
But now I had to wonder if they hadn't already had some. Though that would also be disingenuous to the hard work some of the actual engineers had put in. It seemed like there were a lot less vacuum tubes around than there should have been otherwise.
Carrying my bags, I started back down the street. I reached into my pocket to get a look at the time-…
"Oh, what the fuck?"
…
I made it my business to get back to Tukson's apartment as quickly as possible. So far as I could tell, outside of maybe the clerk, Lee, and Maria, no one else had seen me that morning. After looking at my scroll, I was intent to keep it that way.
As soon as I got back to the apartment, I set to work getting breakfast prepared. Started with the things I knew could handle being left out for a while, and wouldn't make much noise while prepping. Fruit salad, making the coffee, mixing the batter for pancakes. About the time I finished making the batter, everyone was starting to pull themselves back to the land of the living. A slow, tedious, dreadful thing that I could tell none of them had any experience with yet. They were all acting like they were hungover. Except Penny, she jumped right to work and tried to help me get breakfast made. Clearly the only morning person of the group. Though her rather… exacting commands when given recipes was a bit tedious. Though I'd also never seen a more perfectly browned pancake.
For the most part, the morning started quietly, and I was ok with that, after the talks I'd had, both the previous night, and that morning. It gave us all a lot to chew on and dread for the coming day. Unfortunately, we were only going to get more shoveled onto our plate. The first signs of which came when Jaune checked his Scroll, and discovered what was waiting for him there.
With all the focus and thought of a post-bender drunk I could hear him mutter the word that begins all manner of trouble. He woke up, opened his Scroll, and asked in a stupefied tone of a half-cut jet-head "…Wha-?"
As I continued to work on breakfast, and the rest of the room came to life, Jaune didn't. I couldn't help but notice the way Jaune stayed still, since no one else really seemed to cotton on to what happened. He sat there for about a half hour before he so much as blinked and began messing with his Scroll. By about that point, everyone had at least had a shot at the bathroom and was corralling their beverages. By the time Penny was setting the table, he was back to his senses enough to actually open his Scroll and do something.
"… Ok, what?" Jaune muttered, flicking the device.
"What is it?" Pyrrha asked.
"I've got… a lot of messages from my mom and dad," Jaune said. "I mean a lot… and even more from my sisters…" He paused as he continued flicking through his phone. I couldn't help but watch because I got the sense he had absolutely no idea what was happening. It would've been funny if I didn't already know things were about to get very bad for all of us. "…Holy- what? Since when do I have a girlfriend!?"
That got everyone else's attention at that point. Even in the midst of getting ready for breakfast, drama was the first dish of the day.
"… A what?" Pyrrha asked in shock.
"They've sent me a dozen and a half messages asking questions about how I got a girlfriend without telling them… each." He started aggressively tapping at his Scroll
"You got a girlfriend?" Ruby asked.
"Thank the gods," Weiss muttered.
"No, I didn't!" Jaune sputtered. "Not yet- I don't know why they think I did!"
"I can shed some light on that," I said. "Assuming everyone's ready to eat?"
The collective gaze of our teams rolled over me, then to the spread I'd spent the better part of a few hours preparing. A tantalizing spread consisting of everything from cured meats and cheese to pastry and fruit. Hot sausages, eggs, pancakes, home fries, and bacon on platters. Jugs of juice and hot pots of coffee, and water for tea naturally. Pots of grits and creamed wheat, loaves of bread ready to be fried, toasted, or made into nests. I'd even gotten a jug of milk for Ruby, little miss 'I'm still growing!'.
I'd promised a continental spread, and delivered. Vegas was the ancestral home of buffet eating, I would not be found wanting for it.
"… How are we supposed to eat all of that!?" Weiss asked.
"It'll serve through today and tomorrow." I said. "Everyone plate up and we'll hash out what's going on. And who's on dish detail."
With heavy feet, everyone circled quickly through the kitchen, taking their share of the spoils. Most of the plates were modestly portioned, including Nora's. Only real outliers were Blake and Penny. Blake by virtue of having a nearly empty plate. Penny by virtue of not even bothering to grab one. Though she was 'nursing' a cup of juice.
"Ok. We're sitting," Weiss said. "So what's going on?"
I slugged back some of my coffee as the others started to tuck in. "Check your Scrolls. Should be a news article."
Weiss's brow scrunched up in confusion, but she took my advice while the others prodded at their food. Again, I found my gaze drifting back to Nora expectantly. She'd been so excited about having a massive breakfast. But she was just prodding at her meal. There was something off about her, and Ren sitting beside her. The two of them seemed oddly tense, and kept slipping glances at each other. I knew those looks, but there was no chance those two had suddenly gone that far.
"… Oh my gods," Weiss hissed.
"Yeah, that was my reaction," I said.
"What is it?" Ruby asked, wedging a piece of toast into her mouth.
Weiss didn't dain her with a response, instead passing her Scroll to Ruby while she buried her face in her hands. Ruby looked at the device for a moment, then nearly choked on her breakfast.
"Pyrrha and Jaune are dating!?" she choked.
Every stopped moving their food around and looked at Ruby, who began gesticulating wildly. Mostly at Weiss's Scroll. Jaune, who had still been fumbling with his, suddenly began scrambling with the screen. Muttering something that vaguely sounded like "Whatwhatwhatwhat-"
Then he pulled it up, and allowed his teammates to see as well.
The color drained out of both Jaune and Pyrrha.
Nora on the other hand burst out laughing. Ren just looked at the Scroll in bewilderment.
I'd seen the article earlier that morning. It had been posted the previous night apparently, late. Another piece for the gossip column: "Pyrrha Nikos spotted on street with unnamed suitor! The Argos Fight Queen Claims a Prize!".
It was followed with a myriad of pictures, taken from a dozen and a half different angles. Each one filled with pained and embarrassed smiles from both Jaune and Pyrrha. Though, surprisingly, I saw a few where Jaune looked like he was ready to deck someone. I wouldn't have believed it if the picture wasn't there. There was even a nice puff-piece about Pyrrha giving a child an autograph. The whole thing stank of the trashy tabloid pap I preferred to avoid, but in this case, it was about my friends. I had reason enough to pay attention to it, even without the fact we were supposed to be keeping a low profile.
"Wow!" Penny chirped. "Congratulations!"
"But- but we're not dating!" Jaune exclaimed. "We were just out doing our part of things!"
"Well now everyone thinks you're doing a part of someone, so congratulations," I said sardonically.
"OH GODS THAT'S WHAT MOM MEANT!" Jaune shrieked, turning as red as Pyrrha's hair. Who was also looking quite scandalized now.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Ruby asked, concentrating way harder than she should've been "…Wait… Oh… oh- oooh…"
"Ruby…" Yang intoned, speaking for the first time that morning and looking dead tired.
"Needless to say, this is a problem," I said. "But at the very least it's low on our list right now."
"You think?" Blake asked, giving me the stink eye.
"… You really want to start this right now?" I asked. When Blake didn't answer, I pressed. "Have you heard from Sun yet? He sent you a message?"
Blake looked sullenly at her meager plate and shook her head.
"Then all we can do is assume he hasn't been found yet." I said. "Assuming the alternative wouldn't help anyway… Let's just… try and get through breakfast, alright?"
"At least without anymore surprises," Pyrrha muttered ruefully.
knock-knock-knock*
The apartment went dead silent as a trio of knocks echoed from its front door.
I turned to look at it from my seat, and no one said a word. Partly to make sure we hadn't all collectively hallucinated it.
"There's someone at the front door," Penny said, looking towards it as well.
"… You just had to say something," I groused, getting up from the table. I calmly stalked over to my gear and pulled That Gun from my holster as another series of knocks echoed.
"Oh, looks like it might be multiple people actually," Penny noted idly.
"How do you know that?" Weiss muttered.
Penny responded but I tuned the table out as I calmly stalked towards the door. Ruby went to get up from the table, but I motioned for her to wait. Until we knew what it was, there was no sense in flying off the handle. Yet. I approached the door, keeping my pistol bladed with my shoulder. There was a small peep-sight set into the door, and I looked out through it. It showed the apartment hallway beyond, the second floor of the building. Tacky carpeting, drab paint scheme, and otherwise starkly utilitarian.
The complete opposite of the person standing in front of the door. Impatiently tapping their high-heeled foot on the floor.
"…" I unlocked the door and swung it open, greeting the four people standing beyond it. "… You've gotta be fucking kidding me."
"'Sup Kid." Coco said, smirking. "Have fun last night?"