We sat down in the kitchen kitchen, just a small room with a fridge, a sink, a counter and stove, along with a walk in pantry filled to the brim with canned food, dried food, preserved food, and purified water. The walls, ceiling, and floor are made of concrete that gave this room and the rest of the bunker a bare and eerie feeling. At the edge of the room lied a small table with four chairs, a floral sheet covering up the wooden table with. Reilly sat on one of the chairs facing me while I began warming up a few cans of Pork 'N Beans. She takes off her armor and green wool shirt, revealing a green tank top underneath. Her dog tags jingled while she removed them and layed them by her chair. The room became deadly quiet, just the slight bubbling of the food warming up.

"I take it you have questions," I said, breaking that cold silence she has created.

"Of course I do! What did you mean when you said this bunker was your brothers? Like he found it and told you about it or what?" She bursts out flaying her arms and nearly knocking over her tea.

"No. This is my brother's. When our dad passed away he left us both a little fortune. I spent mine on College, my brother however spent it on this bunker. I called him a fool for it. A part of me just hoped the Great War wouldn't happen," I said as I placed the steaming pot on the table and then grabbed a couple of bowls and spoons from a shelf above the stove.

She gave me this look of confusion and denial as I began serving our food.

"That makes no sense John," she sighed, "What are you saying? That you're from before the bombs? Hmm? That you knew of this bunker because your brother told you about it?"

"Mhm, It was the day before the bombs dropped. My brother called me up and told me to come to his shelter. That I should spend armageddon with him and Mom. I was selected for a Vault and I wanted them to come with me instead. Told him it was safer and has more supplies than his shelter but he didn't want to. Wanted to stay here with Dad," I said pointing at a small shelf next to the walk-in pantry. On the shelf stood an urn, red with white flowers on it. Next to each side of the red urn was another, one blue and the other black with the same flower pattern. "Mike was always so stubborn. When I got here three years ago the first thing I did was get to this bunker. Found my brother's and mother's remains, cremated them and put their ashes in these urns I found.

"Even if what you are saying is true John, that-that just can't be. You'd have to be over 200 years old," she says as she approaches the urns and reads the names on them to herself: Meredith Lloyd, Michael Lloyd, Henry Lloyd.

"Come with me. I want to show you something," I said as I get up. She gives me a puzzled look, but gets up and follows me.

We step out of the kitchen, the ladder to the repair shop to our left and a small bathroom  across from us with a shower, bathtub, toilet, and sink. The small hallway too had bare walls and ceiling. A naked light bulb provided the hallway with warm light. A carpet layed before us, red with golden vines and leaves covered up the bare floor. We pass the bedroom furnished with a king sized bed with teal sheets, blanket, and a large dresser. Beside it is the wash room; a small closet with a washing machine and a dryer on top. We pass the generator room to our right with a small fusion generator that grants the bunker and a water heater that also acts as a water filter too. At the end of the hallway was a much larger room, twice the size of the kitchen and we step in.

This room is more decorated with nice carpets, and gorgeous oil paintings hanging on the walls, and even a suit of medieval armor, rust taking over most of its shiny appearance. To the left of the room stood different small shelves built into the wall with all sorts of knick-knacks; A knife made out of a large tooth, a silver bullet, a deck of cards, a set of golden dice, a couple of dog tags, framed pictures and framed news paper articles. In the center of the room stood three display cases each filled with an assortment of weapons. On the right side of the room stood a mannequin donning a customized set of riot armor; Steel toned boots with built in knee guards, thick brown pants designed to endure harsh weathers, a thick chest plate made of reinforced carbon fiber resembling the chest of a well toned man. Bullet dents and scratch marks cover the chest plate. A large brown trench coat covered up the arm and shoulder plates. Finally, a combat helmet with a built in gas mask with green tinted lenses in the shape of pentagons,a circular vent on the center of the mask, and a filter attached to each cheek.

"Wha-what is all this?" Reilly asks,  a look of astonishment on her face as she approaches my old armor, her fingers grazing it and noticing the insignias of a two headed bear on the left breast and a large cog being turned by two smaller one engulfed by flaming wings and a sword in the center on the right breast.

"Relics of my past. That's my old armor that was issued to me by the Desert Rangers in California. Good men that I have fought with," I said as I approach the picture of me and my fellow nine Desert Rangers in our armor and branding our signature weapon. On the bottom left corners was a date; August 16th, 2242.

She remained silent as she approached the wall of news paper articles and pictures of me. She stops at one picture. One of me, a smiling woman and man in their fifties, and young man who has his arms around me with the Washington Monument behind us still intact. I sighed as I saw what she was looking at.

"That was the last time we were together as a family, before dad got sick, before me and Mike were deployed to Anchorage," I said, as I stand next to her, looking at that picture. The date July 9th, 2071 were written on bottom right corner of the picture.

I notice Reilly getting a bit shaky with all this information presented to her.

"How about we sit down, eat, and I'll answer every question you have okay?" I suggest. She nods and we head back to the kitchen where she finally starts eating and drinking her tea.

"Go ahead. Ask away," I said, leaning back on my chair before lighting a cigarette.

"I can ask you anything?"

"Anything."

"How old are you exactly?"

"Let's see, I was born July 23rd, 2047, so 230 years old plus a few weeks.

"What was the world like before the bombs dropped?"

"Not paradise that's for sure or else the bombs wouldn't have happened. Robots were replacing the working force, riots filled the streets as more and more people lost their jobs, and scandals were just everywhere. Every large corporation tried to make the most buck for their bang and screwed just about anyone. One of the few places to work was the military and many went for the option if you didn't get drafted. I did,"

"You served in the military?"

"I did. Anchorage, four years,"

"What was that like?"

"Like a frozen hell zone. It was just trench warfare in a frozen wasteland. Every time I made a friend, I lose them. Sometimes even on the same day. Sniper shot, booby traps, oh the Chinese were very creative when it comes to traps. They would place traps on our wounded and dead, have those wounded call out for help. The medics had it the worst. The only warm meals we got were in the morning. Couldn't heat up anything at night. Their snipers would spot us. Frostbite was the biggest problem. It was difficult to avoid it, especially when your sweaty undergarments and socks freeze over because you didn't have the chance to change them. I got hit one morning, sniper fire right in the chest. Missed my heart by half an inch. Made a necklace out of the bullet and kept it," I said as I grab a necklace from the shelf of knick-knacks; A large rifle bullet with silver chains attached to it.

"Got me home though. Three months later we won the war but we didn't exactly get a warm welcome home. Dad died while we were in Anchorage. My brother tried everything to get home, but only got punishment. When he got here the first thing he did was pick a fight with an officer. Got himself a dishonorable discharge but, it got him home. Most of my comrades were sent elsewhere to deal with riots. Nasty riots."

"What did you do after the war?"

"I finished my degree. Before I was drafted I was pursuing a degree in Actinobiology or the study of radiation as its known. Around that time nuclear physics and other nuclear related stuff was highly sought after and with that degree in my belt I could get a well paying job and a job that won't get me replaced by robots. That's the one thing robots couldn't replace; Scientists. They tried but it never worked out. After my degree I was approached by a Vault-Tec representative. Told me he's been keeping an eye on me and was pleased with my outstanding grades and presented me a position in one of their Vaults. Thinking that's a well paying job and one that won't get me replaced I agreed. Had to go to Vault-Tec University in West Virginia but it didn't take that long and I graduated mid October. Two weeks before the bombs dropped. I was even assigned a Vault, but they didn't tell me which one or where. Something about not allowing me to leak its location out to desperate friends or family. That's how that representative told me. I got to my Vault just in time. An hour later the bombs dropped.

"What was it like inside that Vault?"

"I don't know."

"Really? How? Why can't you remember?"

"I've been trying to figure that out for nearly two centuries. All I remember is entering the atrium of the Vault, seeing a lot of different robots in there doing the tasks the dwellers were supposed to do, then waking up in the middle of the wasteland with nothing but my bullet necklace and a scorched vault suit on me. Its number was burnt off but even if I did knew I had no idea where my Vault was. I was driven there blind folded."

"What did you do?"

"I wandered, following the setting sun. I had no clue where or even when I was. I found a highway but there wasn't much left of it. I scavenged for scraps of food and water from ruined buildings while heading west. The wildlife terrified me so I steered clear of them. Nothing was recognizable. Eventually I found myself in California in a town called the Hub. At the time it was rather small but it is today considered one of the largest settlements in California. I learned there that fifteen years have passed. I'd say it took me about a year to reach California but still I shocked. Over a decade of my life that I can't remember. I thought of my family then, wondering if they were still alive in this bunker."

"What did you do in the Hub?"

"Caravan work mostly. It payed well and one of the only currency at the time was water, ammo, or food. Caps later represented that currency but there were a lot of settlements and we transported mostly food, water, and ammo."

"When did you realize you didn't age?"

"About twenty years later. I started covering up my face to hide it from others. Around that time that Vault of mine is all I could think of and I began scouring the western coast for anything that could help me find it."

"And did you find anything?"

"Nothing. The western coast got hit pretty hard and most of the cities have been reduced to rubble. The other Vaults were empty except for one but there was no way I could get in. So I continued searching, finding myself in northern California and came across the Brotherhood of Steel."

"The Brotherhood of Steel stretch out that far?"

"Not exactly. The faction here branched off from the one in California for the search of a new base of operations, start a new branch. I met one of my old colleagues there. Turns out he was stationed in Mariposa where he and his commanding officer deserted their post and formed the Brotherhood of Steel. He spoke highly of me and backed me up to their Elder and I was able to join."

"How long were you with the brotherhood?"

"40 or so years? I spent most of the time looking for my Vault. But when the Master's army caused chaos in California, I stopped my search and came back. It was around 2161 at that time"

"Who was the Master?"

"Some guy who used the FEV tanks housed deep in Mariposa to create a Supermutant army. Nothing like the ones here but still terrifying."

"What do you mean by that? Muties are muties,"

"No. The ones in the western coast may not be as big but they were more intelligent. They ambushed caravans, raided cities, and even Vaults to further grow the Master's army. Then one day a man donning an armored Vault 13 jumpsuit approached us, needing our help. For whatever reason our Elder at the time let him in, even made him a member. He figured out where the Supermutants where coming from. I assisted him  getting and watch him come in and out, destroying that atrocious place. Seeing it go up and crumble in tons of concrete was such a satisfying sight. Few days later I was out in the Boneyard, formally known as Los Angeles. In the center was this large Cathedral led by these fanatics. Turns out the Master was controlling them and was inside, well underneath inside a Vault. I watch that Vault Dweller enter the Cathedral and then leave a few hours later. I stayed just to see what would happen. The Cathedral blew up just like Mariposa and the Master was vanquished.

"What did you then?"

"I left. I already aroused suspicion and decided I served the Brotherhood long enough. To them I'm dead or missing. What was left of the Masters army dispersed. Those that stayed formed communities like the town of Gecko. A mining town that was mining deposits of Uranium. The town welcomed not just ghouls but mutants as well and it was led by a Supermutant named Marcus. I did mercenary work for them for a year or two. I basically gave up for a while. Fend off Raiders, protect Caravans, stuff like that. I resume my search a decade later and again find nothing. At the Canadian border I just gave up the search entirely and headed back south.

I came across an arising faction in California. The New California Republic, or NCR for short. The only form of Government that has been established since the bombs dropping. With territory stretching as far north as Oregon and far East as Nevada and Utah, they were the only form of Government. They were looking for volunteers to sign up for their ever growing army and I signed up but under a different name. I really liked the NCR. They created order where there was violence. So every ten years or so I faked my death or made myself disappear and signed up again. I did so many times. Around the year 2232 some old Captain recognized me. Turns out I was in his battalion the whole time and he caught wind. I thought I was going to get into trouble when he confronted me but instead I was given the chance to join one of their Special Forces ranks, the Desert Rangers. Scary fuckers they are. They are the ones you send in behind enemy lines and most dangerous missions. The training being tough would be an understatement but I made it and got assigned to the Ace of Diamonds. That picture over there with all the Rangers on it was us. With them I learned so much that even the Army didn't teach me. I learned sharp shooting, disarming mines and how to detect them, setting up traps and how to set up means of communication, what's edible and what's not, how to detect radiation hot spots without a Geiger counter. The Ace of Diamonds became my closest friends, my family. That's what my riot armor was from. See that golden diamond on the helmet? That was our insignia. The common NCR grunt respected us, heck even feared us. A decade would pass, a decade of my life where I felt so alive. I became 2nd in command of our ten man squadron. In those ten years we've only lost three but every death felt like the death of my father.

Around that time, another threat emerged terrorizing California. It started stories spread from settlement to settlement of the Boogeyman swooping in from the sky, taking anyone who sees it and leaving none to tell the tale. We shrugged off as another folklore. In my time we've heard of all sorts of stories, a ghoul with a tree growing out of his head, a talking mole rat in the sewers, even extraterrestrial sightings but then we saw it. I'll never forget that day. We were en route to a small town called Brampton for a resupply. We were maybe one mile out when we heard this strange sound. The roar of Vertibird. My squadron have never heard those sounds before, but I have back in Anchorage. Then we saw it. A Vertibird black with a large golden E surrounded by golden stars on the side swoops in from the sky. The US military used them. Basically flyable transports that can take and land troops and supplies in a short notice. Through my binoculars I could see Vertibird land, and soldiers in this very advanced set of power armor hop out wielding plasma weapons. In a matter of minutes they raided the town, took a few survivors and fly away in the blink of an eye. When we searched that town, there was no one left."

"What did you squad do then? Report it?"

"We had to. At first our higher ups had a hard time believing what our squad leader said but after each of us said the same thing, they kinda had to. More reports came in an learned they had an outpost in Navarro but we still didn't know of their base of operation. Then, while I was in the NCR's capitol of Shady Sands after getting debriefed I saw someone donning the armored Vault 13 suit once more. Can't really recall if it was a man or woman, it has been some time but they happen to be the ancestor of the Vault Dweller that destroyed the Master over 80 years prior, calling themselves the Chosen One. Preachy I know. They spoke to our President, who actually met the Vault Dweller in her youth. He helped out the NCR here and there, and even successfully infiltrated the Navarro Outpost. The Chosen One not only did that but also learn where they were operating from. An oil rig couple hundred miles away from the coast. Our unit was tasked to an attack force of soldiers  fight into Navarro and wipe it out. We were given special armor piercing rounds and pulse grenades. During that fight I saw a large transport ship leave the coast and head out into open sea. I had a hunch it was the Chosen One heading towards their oil rig. The battle at Navarro was brutal and both sides suffered heavy losses but we emerged victorious as we see what's left of them flee with a couple of Vertibirds. Then we saw dozens come from the Pacific. At first we thought it was reinforcements but they just ignored us and continued flying west. Then we saw the explosion. I knew exactly what happened. The Enclave have been defeated. Small outposts remained but we quickly snuffed out."

"Wow. So what made you come here, to D.C?"

"Shortly after the Enclave thing I've began having these weird dreams. I found myself in a Vault in shambles. Riots are going on, dwellers against robots. Soon after I keep seeing this woman calling out my name. Almost every night I had that dream. Finally, after a year, it donned to me that they weren't dreams, but memories of my time in my Vault. I retired from the Ace of Diamonds with a warriors goodbye and left. They let me keep my gear. Took me around 30 years to cross this country but in 2274 I finally made it back to my home town. The first thing I did, like I said was locate my brothers bunker. To my horrors the entire city is overrun by Supermutants. Was a bitch fighting my way through Takoma but I made it here. I found my brothers and mothers remains. They died on the floor. Don't know from what but it wasn't suicide. I cremated them and cleaned up the place. Shortly after I met you and your Ranger team."

"And it took you three years to find the Vault-Tec HQ?"

"Well actually just one. We were too occupied wiping out them muties here."

"Oh so it's my fault?" Reilly says with a sly smile.

"Hmm, partially. I found the most opportune day to check out the place."

"Did you find what you were looking for?"

"I actually did. Thanks to my memories I was able to pinpoint my Vault amongst the vast number of Vaults with that. That computer had everything listed. Every Vault, it's location, everything. Vault 44, designed to be completely automated, from security to engineers, everything. It's test was to see what humanity would become if robots did everything. It's located in Rockford, Illinois."

"Where exactly in Illinois is that?"

"Roughly 75 miles west of Chicago, near the state line of Wisconsin."

"That's a long way from home. I take it you'll be leaving then won't you?" She asks, a sad look on her face.

"I must. For two centuries I've been looking for the Vault that made me who I am. It holds all of my answers. But, given the chaos going on up there we'll have to wait it out. We got enough food to last us for years, power, got some holo-tape movies, even clean running water. Heck we even got hot showers here," I said crossing my arms after putting out the cigarette in an ash tray in the center of the room.

Reilly's eyes light up when I said 'hot showers' and basically leaps out of her chair.

"Hot showers? Seriously?" She asks as she high tales it out of the kitchen.

I was about to light another cigarette when she shouts "You coming or what?" from the bathroom. I put the cigarette away and head towards the bathroom.

2 days later
6:30 a.m

My eyes open as I lie on the soft bed in the bedroom, my companion turning sideways facing her bare back to me, hogging the blanket. I get up and take in a deep breath as I look back at the still sleeping Reilly then at myself in the mirror of the dresser. I run my hand over my shaved face, the scar on my cheek that goes up to the top of my left eye, and the scar on my nose. My brown hair that I cut last night has lost its long wanderer look. My hazel green eyes look back at me as if to say 'It's time'. I close my eyes and take a few breaths. After my third exhale I open my eyes and get ready. I put on some underpants, a shirt, and a pair of socks from a dresser. I also grab a large empty backpack and after filling the bottom pouch with as much ready to eat meal pouches, canned drinking water, a bottle of whiskey, a carton of smokes, and several changes of clothes with the clothes rolled together in the shape of a large egg. I then head towards my display room.

I look at the pictures and mementos of my past on the wall. I grab the family picture and look at it.

"Thank you brother for letting me use your bunker," I say as I stare at the smiling faces looking back at me. I place the picture in my pocket. I began placing several more mementos in a small side pocket; A $100M chip from a Gomorrah Casino, a silver .44 round, a large tooth knife, and a set of B.o.S dog tags and NCR dog tags. Then I approach my armor standing at the end of the room.

"It's time," I say to myself as I let out a heavy sigh and begin donning the armor starting with the brown pants, then the boots and knee armor, then the chest plate and slim arm and shoulder plates. Lastly I place the appropriate sheaths and holsters with a click on my armor. I run my hands over dents and cuts along the chest place, memories of how I got them flashing in my head. Then I approach my weapons, each layed out on display cases with their respected magazines for the ones that needed them. I lifted the lid of the first one and grab my N99 10mm pistol redesigned with the slight appearance of a Desert Eagle. After loading it with its magazine I placed it in its holster located by my right leg near hip level. Next were my dual Remington M1911 Mark II with their magazines modified to carry 12 rounds instead of 7. After loading them I place them into their holsters located at each side of my chest armor. Next I grabbed my Walther PK. A rather small handgun with a low caliber I attached a mechanism from the display case to the grip of the pistol. I then attached it to my right arm. It extends to my army like a skeletal glove with a button in the center. I press it and the mechanism pushes the pistol forward and into my hand. I press a second small button that is underneath the big button with my pinky. The mechanism pulls the pistol back. The last pistol in this display case was a S&W 29 .44 magnum with a 4 inch barrel. After loading its 6 rounds I placed it in its holster located at my lower back with my right hand.

The next display case held my blades. The first one was a well preserved WWII trench knife that I placed in a sheath concealed within my right boot. The next was a knife that looks like a combat machete and a combat knife have fused into one with an eight inch long blade and a hard plastic, curved grip. I placed it in its sheath located on my chest plate near my left shoulder. The last blade was a combat machete that resembled my combat knife with the only difference being the size of the blade with 12 inches long. I placed it in its sheath located on my back, the grip of the blade just a couple inches above the grip of my magnum. The last display only had two weapons. The first is a Remington 870 shotgun with it's grip shortened and barrel sawed off painted black. I placed it in a special compartment in my backpack that leaves the grip sticking out. The last weapon is my old Marksman Carbine from the NCR days, a modified M4 carbine with a retractable but, flashlight grip, laser sight built in above the end of the barrel, and an adjustable tactical scope with up to 10x magnification. I placed it aside and grabbed my ammo satchel hanging on the wall with different sections. In each one I placed the appropriate ammo and magazines in there. Last item in the display case is a Pip-Boy VC, a next generation Pip-Boy that is much smaller and slimmer than it's pre-war model, that I slip on my left arm A little going away gift from Vault City.  My last item of clothing was a black trench coat, large enough to hide my weapons and my Pip-Boy. I slide on my ammo satchel and then my backpack. I approach my gas mask helmet and pick it up from the mannequin, slightly turning it as I look at its features.

"So you are leaving," I hear a female voice say behind me. I turn around and see Reilly leaning against the doorway donning her tank top and a pair of boxers. My boxers.

"You sound surprised. I told you what I want to do," I said, still holding my helmet.

"Yeah, but I was kinda hoping you'd stay for at least one more day," she says as she approaches me and places an arm around me while running a finger across my battle torn armor. She smiles. "This armor suits you John. Gives you this rugged Wastelander look," she continues.

I grab her hand and lower it. "I can't stay Reilly. I want to but I can't push this any further. It's been haunting me for two centuries."

She sighs and steps back. "I know. Hold on. Take this with you," she says as she takes off her dog tags that were hanging around her neck and hands them to me.

"You're tags? Are you sure Reilly?" I ask, holding the tags with one hand.

"Mhm. I have a spare at home. Something to remember me by while you're out there," She says as she places the tags around my neck before planting a kiss on my cheek. They jingled as they hit my chest place.

"Now promise me two things John while you're out there. One, be careful and two try to come back here in one piece. The Capitol Wasteland is no fun without you," She says as she backs away from me.

I hide the dog tags and put on the helmet. As I place the helmet I press a button by a small square device attached to the right side. After doing so the visors slide down from the top and each vent part of the gas mask appears from both left and right side, meeting in the middle and the two half circles forming together.

"I promise," I said, the gas mask changing my voice to a very deep, almost demonic and robot like voice. I can tell it startled Reilly a little bit as I can see that in her eyes widening a bit after hearing that.

I grab my rifle and leave the bunker, Reilly watching me as I climb up the ladder. Rifle raised I slowly exit the repair shop but no one saw me. The Supermutants in the parking lot were too busy riling up dead Talon members to notice me climb up the rubble and out of Takoma. Out of the corner of the eye I thought I saw a small flash like something being reflected from the sunlight. I look back and see nothing but rubble. Shrugging it off I continue heading northwest, leaving the city of D.C behind me and finally beginning my journey.