Fallout 4 Title Screen with Theme Music - YouTube [https://i.ytimg.com/vi/4UYbPEcg4C0/maxresdefault.jpg]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4UYbPEcg4C0

Quick Note Beforehand: I'm pretty much winging this story so let me know if anything doesn't make sense or if you have any questions. I am more than happy to answer.

Danik is what people would call a hardcore gamer, he loved everything about them, the freedom, the ability to be the hero or villain, and the joy of exploring a whole new world far away from this one. With too few friends in the outside world, he kept mostly to himself, but each night he dreamed of something bigger and better for himself, he just didn’t know what.

Lying there in his bedroom on the third floor of his small two-bedroom apartment, he couldn’t help but smile at his walls covered in posters, Indiana Jones, Doom, Shepard, Dragon Age, Diablo, and a hundred other games and movies he adored. His shelves lined with a collection of memorabilia he had been collecting for years, but his most prized possessions were his mint condition comic books. Not because of the price he could get for them, but because of what they meant to him.

Staring into the eyes of Commander Shepard, he couldn’t help but wonder what he or she would do if they were born in his timeline. He supposed a soldier would fit him best, but he didn’t think that character would enjoy fighting in the petty wars, squabbles that seemed to go on every day. Shepard was bigger and better than that, a symbol of hope, a symbol of a better future. Whereas he didn’t seem to have one.

He couldn’t remember how many jobs he had been fired from, but these days, it was all he could do to keep his head above water. It is even why, sadly, he’d had to move back in with his mother, who told him every day that he was meant for something great, but even she had begun to lose hope in him. He could see it in her eyes.

And although he told himself he didn’t affect him, it did. It was like the whole world had moved on, but not him.

Head shaking sadly at where his thoughts were taking him, he picked up the PlayStation controller from his bed stand, switched it on, and let the calm of the music fill his soul. Its soothing sound a balm as his tv screen switched, before he clicked on Fallout 4, it’s slow opening tune always cheering him up as he gazed with hunger at that sweet suit of power armor in a workshop, and could already feel himself beginning to decompress from another long day at work, where his boss had yelled at him for daydreaming.

Having played most of the Fallout Games in the series, he couldn't pick a favorite, however he’d always found Fallout 3 and 4 to have this kind of atmosphere that instantly drew him, and brought him into another world. The tunes, the music, and the strange new environment taking him away from this crappy world. At least in fallout life was simple, fight or die.

Finger poised to begin a new game, he considered emptying his bladder first, when the doorbell rang, it's tinkling sound irking his nerves as he stood back up with a heavy sigh, walked to the doorway, and opened it up, only to find nobody there. The corridor was empty except for some strange package that lay at his feet.

Having never ordered anything recently, he picked it up, searched the hallways for anyone, then supposed it had been a mistake, and brought it inside, a part of him curious as he put it down on his kitchen counter.

Wondering who could possibly have sent it, he looked it over, but despite the brown paper packaging there was nothing to indicate who it was from. Odd. But it could just be someone from within the building, looking to prank him. His next-door neighbors George and Tiffany, youtubers were usually into that sort of stuff.

Hand unconsciously touching its light brown packaging, he shook his head hard, refusing to be a part of their game. But damn if he wasn't curious to see what was inside.

Licking lips that had suddenly gone dry, he tried to think what his mother would always tell him about strange packages in her apartment. Her high nasally voice, full of righteous conviction as she wagged a finger under his nose. “Never accept anything from strangers?” But then how was he supposed to know who the package was from if he didn't open it up?

His own lame excuse sounding so hollow, he wanted to laugh, before tearing it open in an excited rush. It’s thick brown paper ripping away easily in his fingers to reveal a brand new PlayStation out of its box, but far different from the one he had. It's sleek black exterior, smooth and almost flat like a disc with no visible openings.

Heart thundering loudly in his ears at its beauty, he wondered how to plug it in, when words began to fade in one by one on its flat surface. "Hi there, Mr Danik. My name is Sam. Would you like to play a game? Simply speak the word, ‘yes’ aloud, and we can begin."

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Unable to blink, unable to breathe, he thought he must be going mad, nothing like this existed, but the words were still there on its inky black surface glowing white. Then they faded away, leaving him gasping for air.

This had to be a trick...but if not...well he wasn't going to give up his chance to test out a new PlayStation, his voice almost coming out of him in a guttural croak, "yes."

Waiting with bated breath, he couldn’t believe his luck at finding it at his doorstep, when a smiling emoticon appeared. "Great! Which game would you like to play?"

And without having to think, he blurted, "Fallout."

The words, "Loading game now. Please wait…" appearing on the screen, followed by a blinding flash of light, his world turned to white as noise erupted all around him. Voices screaming, heavy gunfire, and the sound of explosions hammering into him as slowly his sight returned, only he wasn't home anymore.

The dozens of bedraggled men and women that huddled together in a ditch ahead of him, firing hundreds of rounds into super mutants that had dug their own trenches in the opposite side of the street. Their dark green skin absorbing wounds that would have killed a man as a few of them charged over the top, tossing grenades, and firing rocket launchers. The explosions of dirt nearby, so real, he could feel the rocks fly by his cheek, could smell earthy brown grass with its strange plants, and beyond him the ruins of large hulking grey buildings that had seen the effects of war, everything looked so real. Even the graphics for that woman down there that was screaming something at him, looked so real with her mussed-up reddish-golden hair, weathered unwashed face, and two piercing blue eyes.

His first instinct was to get a feel for this place, and talk to the NPCs that looked to be trouble, when he felt something hot and cold punch into him, and fell rolling down the slope. The wetness and pain he felt in his side, so real, he thought they must have used some type of sensory effect. If so, they had made a terrible mistake, the pain was too strong, causing him to partially black in and out, when a super mutant leapt into the line of survivors. Wild yellow eyes full of bloodlust, smashing a woman’s skull open like a ripened melon before him as it released a terrible roar. The fear and panic that flooded through him, making him forget for a moment that it was a game, when bullets tore through the mutie’s lumpy round head. Its grey brain matter splattering onto Danik’s face as he tried hard not to scream. It felt too real. Too real. He needed to get away, get out, but found that he could not move. The realization that blood was pooling at his navel, filling him with even more terror as he screamed, "Quit! Turn off! Switch off the game!"

But nothing happened, and all he could think about was the throbbing agony in his side, while his mind kept repeating, it's just a game, it's just a game, it doesn't matter if I die here. But even as he tried to convince himself, Danik knew something wasn't right here. Why would a company create a simulation that felt this real? Even now, he could feel the hot lead inside of him, burning a hole in his guts, when in a flash that woman who had been screaming at him earlier was leaning over him, her breath misting in the cold air as hard blue eyes searched his body. "Where are you hit?"

Pointing to his stomach, he watched her pull out a stimpak, which was essentially a large needle, before she stabbed him with it in the belly. So much for bed manners you thought with a groan as she injected a cool liquid inside of him, causing his limbs to spasm, and his chest squeeze in on itself, when abruptly he could move again. His fingers going to the wound, only to find nothing but unmarked flesh as he gazed up at her surprise. "What kind of game is this?"

The question more for himself, but to his surprise, she replied, "this ain't no game, idiot. Unless you want to die here, scavver, you had best keep your head down, and follow my lead. I don't have many stims left, and I ain't planning on wasting anymore on you."

Eyes widened as breath left his body, he gasped, "you are talking to me?"

Her harsh face looking down at him with disgust as she let out a low growl, "oh for fucks sake, Cassidy, looks like I have gone and wasted my stim on a fucking idiot. Yes, I am fucking talking to you, scav. Now either help us or shut the fuck up."

Her words, followed by abrupt movements as she reached over to pick up her assault rifle, and kick him down into the ditch with the others. The pain and anger that surged through him, almost enough that he wanted to leap back up to his feet and demand answers from her, when his eyes fell upon the cold dead bodies that had been eviscerated around him, their insides piled up beside them, unblinking eyes gazing up towards the skies. The noxious fumes forcing bile up his throat at the thick stench of piss, shit, mud, as well as a sort of sweetness that seemed to contrast so oddly with this growing horror. But that was just his mind trying to distract itself from the heavy sound of gunfire, bullet casings falling like raindrops as people down the line screamed, and died in pools of blood. A part of him unable to help but replay her words to him.

In all the games he had ever played, he knew of none that could interact with him directly. Sure, he could talk to an NPC or companion, and learn about them, but he could always tell that it was scripted with rehearsed generalizations that were always vague enough to answer the question. Cassidy, if that was her name, was different. She felt too much like the real world, the two sides contradicting each other in an insane circle as he huddled there in dirt, his gaze glued to a man with his legs blown a few feet away from him.

Cassidy falling in beside him and shoving a hunting rifle into his arms as well as two magazines. "Here, scavver, Jack won't need this anymore." Danik's mind almost recoiling at the cold touch of steel, smoothly polished wood, before he looked up, and noticed one of the dead men with something on his arm.

And it was like hope flooded back through him, his eyes lighting up on a pipboy, a sort of advanced wristwatch that had a mini screen that could take down his vitals. But more importantly, provide him with information.

If this was part of the game as he hoped, then he could discover what quest he was on, and try to figure out where he was.

Undoing the straps, he wiped the blood off the screen, and attached it to his wrist.

Cassidy, her lips pulled back into sneer, almost giving him another disgusted scowl, when a nearby explosion threw her backwards.

Danik who stared at her aghast, glancing down at his screen.

Initiating...