The Lone Wanderer is HERE - Chapter One *Incomplete*

At a certain point in the future that is certainly unknown

 

“Alright kiddies, sit yer asses down. The Old Man has a tale to tell ya’ll.” A grouchy old man grumbled at a group of rather rambunctious children. The Old Man was at the small school to obviously tell the children tales of heroes past. He was dressed in a heavy dirty brown trench coat over a stained white button up shirt, a pair of dark slacks, and heavy tan combat boots. A hood was pulled over his head leaving most of his face shadowed but a long white beard was visible.

 

“What stories are you going to be telling us today, Mister Old Man?” A young girl with azure hair barely 8 years old and dressed in a dark Brahmin-hide dress asked as she sat down with her peers.

 

The Old Man let out a pained groan as he took his seat in front of the children. Reaching inside of his trench coat, he pulled out a corn-cob pipe and took a couple puffs off of it—even though it clearly didn’t have anything in it. “Hmmm…” He mused, “I think today I’mma tell ya’ll about the Lone Wanderer, her comrades, and their many adventures in the Capital Wasteland.”

 

One of the kids, a portly male wearing a tall green cap and for some reason possessing a red beard piped up next. “But I thought the Lone Wanderer was just a myth?”

 

With a steely look on his face, The Old Man just stared at the ‘kid’. “Little Timmy, what the fuck are ya doing here? Aren’t ya like forty somethin’?”

 

The garden gnome’s eyes switched quickly back and forth for a moment before letting out a defeated sigh. Getting out of his seat, Little Timmy left the room, making sure to slam the door behind him.

 

With a snort, The Old Man turned his attention back to the actual children sitting in front of him. “Alright kiddies, there’s somethin’ ya’ll gotta know before we start this little story of ours.”

 

“What’s that?” The same azure haired girl chirped up.

 

After a few more puffs from his pipe, The Old Man began with, “War. War Never Changes.”

 

“Not since the birth of the living being has war ever changed. While the who, where, why, and how of war do change. The what of war; what it is at its very core, the simple act of one being killing another. That will never change.”

 

“The act of war reached its cumulative peak on October twenty-third in the year of the Allgod Twenty-Seventy-Seven when nuclear bombs and missiles began to rain from the heavens on to the world below. Like an unholy wrath, the surface was purged in nuclear fire and radioactive fallout. This event has since been called the Great War.”

 

“Now here in the great United States of America, there had been the effort to create massive underground bunkers that had been dubbed Vaults. Before the Great War began one hundred and twenty-two of these Vaults had been completed with each one housing a population of around…one-thousand people. The Vault construction project had been called Project Safehouse by the US Government.”

 

“But these Vaults were never meant to actually protect anyone. They were simply an experiment for a group that will be revealed later. One of these great Vaults, Vault One-oh-One to exact, had closed its giant door on the day of the Great War and never reopened. It was said that if you were born in Vault One-oh-One, you lived and you died there as no one ever left and no one ever entered. Trust me, people tried doing both.”

 

“Why do I mention Vault One-oh-One in particular? Because, that’s where the Lone Wanderer’s adventure began.”

 

7:26 AM, October 23, 2077; Vault 101, Capital Wasteland, North America Wasteland

 

19-year-old Konata Izumi slept noisily in her comfortable vault bed. Or at least it was comfortable to her, to most it was a bit uncomfortable considering below the bed was just a sheet of metal. The sounds of shouting outside of her small vault apartment disturbed her nice dream of slaying zombies with broadsword while shouting one-liners. Sitting up, she yawned and rubbed her eyes before glaring menacingly at her door. She wasn’t due to go to her work as a pip-boy technician for…wait…it’s almost 7:30 in the morning. Never mind, she only had 30 minutes to get to work. Anyways, it’s very rude to wake one up with incoherent shouting. It was probably Butch’s mother drinking again. She had a nasty tendency to get drunk off her ass and start running around the vault screaming about Mole People.

 

Silly Butch’s mother, there’s no mole people. Now lobster people, those were very really.

 

Lazily slipping on her vault suit, Konata moved over to her room door and tapped it, causing the mechanical door to whoosh open. Heading for her front door, she reached for it but it whooshed open to reveal a very panicked looking Amata standing there.

 

“Konata! You need leave right now!” Amata screamed while barging her way into the apartment.

 

“What?” The blunette questioned groggily, yawning while rubbing her right eye. Barely standing at 8 inches above 4 feet tall, even Amata towered over Konata. Thanks to her height and rather child like looks, a lot of people still treated her like a child.

 

“My father has sent the guards to find you! Apparently your father has left the vault!”

 

That definitely shook Konata awake. No one had ever left the vault before and the fact that it had been her father was even more jolting. “Why would he do something like that?”