"Your face does the thinking - two to the skull, yet one gets up. Odds are against you… but they're just numbers after the two-to-one."

"You're playing the hand you've been dealt, but you don't let it rest, you shuffle and stack, and a gamble… a gamble that may pay off? But how?"

"Forecast: Rapidly Changing Conditions."

'God,' I thought, taking a drag from my cigarette. 'I hate walking through here.'

Even after the Second Battle of Hoover Dam, Nipton hadn't recovered. Fires still burned in the streets, houses still crumbled in ruins, and the stench of burnt flesh hung low over the town like a shroud. Nobody from the surrounding towns had even come to help or check on the place, content to stay safe by themselves. The only person who made an effort to see what had happened was Ghost, but since the NCR had been driven back to the Mojave Outpost after the battle, nobody had come. To New Vegas, Nipton was just a sign of the Legion's power.

For me, it was one sign of my many failures.

No matter what I did, it still gnawed away at me. Whether it was the nagging voice in the back of my mind or the constant feeling of guilt, I couldn't tell. I tried burying the bodies, only for their voices to haunt my dreams. I carried Boxcars all the way back to the NCR Correctional Facility, but the feeling didn't leave. The thought that I could have arrived earlier to prevent the massacre from even happening just ate away at my conscience.

Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I flicked my cigarette onto the ground and rubbed it out with the heel of my boot before replacing my Elite Riot Helmet back onto my head and moving forward across the cracked asphalt into the town. Normally, I would've gone through Sloan back to New Vegas, but I needed to check on both Novac and Boulder City. It had been a while since my last visit and problems could have arisen that I would have to take care of. Many had arisen in the months since New Vegas's independence.

As I passed through the entrance of the town, the corpse of Oliver Swanwick was the first thing to greet me. The ex-Powder Ganger had been killed by a passing pack of Radscorpions that had made the town their brief home. After exterminating the pests, I hadn't bothered burying the man's body. Rumors had reached my ears that Oliver had started up a new group of Powder Gangers and I was planning on giving him a "friendly little visit." However, the man had met his untimely demise at the hands (well, claws would be more accurate) of the mutated scorpions, essentially doing my job for me.

Next up, were the twin bodies of Tomas and Jacklyn. They lay unburied in the ditch nearby, still in the same positions from where I had first left them. Not that I had shot either of them, they had somehow managed to shoot each other at the exact same time with their absolutely abysmal gun skills. Granted, after they had killed each other, I hadn't passed up the opportunity to take their Sunset Sarsaparilla Star bottle caps off of them. After all, they didn't need them where they were going.

My boots crunched against the shattered glass that lined the front of the Nipton General Store as I strode past it, trying my best to keep my mind off where I was. My psyche didn't need any more stress than what it was already under. Walking through it was just begging for another wave of nightmares and flashbacks, but the convenience outweighed the prospective negatives.

As I turned past the General Store onto the town's main street, I saw a sight that made my blood run cold. In front of Nipton Hall, four Legionaries stood in formation behind a fifth, whose lack of helmet and more decorated armor distinguished him as a Frumentarius. All of them, save for the Frumentarius, had repeaters in their hands and machetes strapped to their waists. Their leader stepped forward and aimed his 10 millimeter pistol at my chest.

"Caesar's will be done," he said, pulling a plasma grenade from his belt with his free hand. I mentally swore as he ripped the pin free with his mouth before tossing it towards me. As it flew through the air, I tensed my legs to leap out of the way. Before I jumped, however, a familiar image flashed through my mind, causing my focus to slip momentarily.

As the sounds of their footsteps faded, I quickly reached a hand into my pocket and pulled out the bomb. The plasma inside was beginning to heat up the casing, which only left me one or two seconds to get rid of it. In a fit of panic, I hurriedly tossed the grenade up above me and curled my body as best as I could to protect myself from the ensuing explosion. Half a second later, a green flash lit up the sky and a wall of heat slammed into m-.

I was knocked from my flashback when my foot caught on a loose piece of asphalt and sharp pains shot up my ankle. 'Goddammit!' My balance overthrown, I went tumbling to the ground and reaching a gloved hand down to my swollen shin. It was definitely sprained based on how intense the waves of pain coming from it were and prior experience with similar injuries. Adamantium was great at protecting bones from fracturing but didn't help much when it came to sprains and strains.

A clattering of metal on stone caught my attention as the Frumentarius's grenade dropped right in front of me. 'Shit!' It only took a second for my mind to process the immediate danger before I used both my arms to throw myself out of the grenade's way. Not a moment too soon either, because as soon as I had leapt away, the bomb detonated sending a wave of green plasma my way. Turning my back to the blast, I grit my teeth as the energy burned through my duster and into my flesh.

I couldn't afford to stop to check it however, as the Legionaries were no doubt going to waste no time in pumping my body full of enough lead to kill me from the poisoning rather than actual injuries. Rolling my body off the road, I ducked behind one of the wooden crosses that lined Nipton's main street as bullets pelted the asphalt. For once, I was glad I had decided to keep them up. Normally, they were just grim reminders of the tragedy that had befell the town, but I left them as a memorial to those that had died, even if they weren't good people.

Keeping low to the ground, I reached over to the Pip-Boy and materialized a Stimpak in my hand. Without hesitation, I rolled up my pant leg and jabbed the syringe into the skin, sighing as the chem went to work healing the swollen ankle. It would definitely be sore without Med-X, but I would be able to put my weight on it for the time being. As an added bonus, the medicine also managed to soothe the burns that lined my back.

With my injuries tended to, I turned back to the Pip-Boy once again. Now it was time for a suitable weapon. My arsenal was quite extensive, a result of over a years worth of adventuring in the Mojave. All of my weapons ranged from normal to useful to crazy (FIDO had always raised more than a couple eyebrows) and each one had a special place in my heart, which sometimes made it very difficult to pick in the heat of a fight.

Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I turned back towards the long list of weapons to pick one that would work well. 'They're wearing medium and heavy armors,' I thought, turning the dial to continue further down the screen. 'So shotguns are a no go. A medium calibre rifle should do the trick.' A sudden explosion of wooden splinters sprayed into the red lenses of my helmet and I cursed myself for taking too long. Finally settling on This Machine, I materialized it in a flash of blue light and cocked the bolt.

A modified M1 Garand rifle, the battle rifle had been a gift from Contreras for not turning him in to NCR authorities. At first, I was more thankful that one of the best arms dealers in all of New Vegas wasn't rotting in a prison cell, but I had come to appreciate the weapon more over time. Although it was an antiquity, it was still reliable and packed quite a punch, not to mention the sound it made on every reload brought me pure joy.

Another piece of the woodwork shattered as more .357 rounds struck the cross. Luckily, being so low to the ground behind cover made it nearly impossible for any of the bullets to hit me, but, if the cross was destroyed, I'd be a sitting duck. To avoid that, I tensed my muscles in preparation, waiting for a brief lapse in gunfire. A couple more bullets whizzed over my head, striking the ground and ruined buildings behind me. As soon as their firing stopped, I leapt to my feet and dove out of cover.

The five Legionaries were in the process of reloading their weapons when I moved out of cover. Not wasting a second, I brought This Machine up to my shoulder and fired two shots right into one of the lighter armored one's skulls. The .308 rounds made short work of the cloth wrap around his face, quickly penetrating through his skull into his brain. Death was instantaneous as his head exploded in a fountain of blood and brains.

Pressing my advantage, I popped the magazine out with a satisfying ring before replacing it with armor piercing. With the bullets swapped, I switched my aim towards a heavily armored Legate. Beneath my helmet, I could see his eyes widen as he attempted to bring his repeater up to fire. He never got the chance as This Machine's AP rounds punched three large holes in his chest where his heart was. The light faded from his eyes as his body stopped functioning, sending him sprawling to the ground. Blood quickly leaked out from the corpse, staining the road a dark maroon.

The sound of a lever action behind me caused my attention to shift. The three Legionaries that were left, including the Frumentarius, had recovered from their shock and had aimed their rifle towards me. Turning towards my adversaries, I cradled This Machine to my chest and dove forward. As I rolled across the street, white hot pain flared through my abdomen as I crossed from one side to the other, causing the roll to end prematurely.

"Damn it!" I swore, putting my free hand to my stomach. One of them had managed to land a lucky shot and, to make it worse, there was no exit wound, meaning that the bullet was buried somewhere in my skin. I'd have to dig it out later because although Simpaks did wonders when it came to healing wounds, it wouldn't remove the lead from my body.

My instincts suddenly flared, and without hesitation I brought the Pip-Boy up to my face. A bullet meant for my head slammed into the casing, ricocheting off the durable material that made up the wrist PDA. With the computer near my eyes, I quickly turned one of the dials, dematerializing This Machine in a flash of blue. Flipping it a couple more times, I quickly selected the weapon I landed on.

Another azure flash lit up the street as I felt the familiar weight of the Saturnite Fist appear over my hand. After the Big Empty, I had never left home without it. It was my most reliable Power Fist, packing the most powerful punch (He regretted nothing). Even when the Toaster destroyed some of its speed components when superheating it, I had spent a couple of days improving the weapon's heat resistance and fixing the broken parts. A result of which had lead me to the stunning realisation that I could add a switch to heat the fist whenever I wanted to. After another painstaking day of work, I had finally managed to completely repair the weapon and add the switch.

'Oh hell yes.'

With a weapon in my grasp, I quickly dashed towards the remaining three Legionaries. In response, the Frumentarius drew the Super Sledge slung over his shoulder and his two guards unsheathed their machetes and advanced to meet me. I had seen the change in tactics coming. Although the Legion weren't awful with guns, they were much more comfortable when in stabbing range of an opponent.

"Retribution!"

One of the machete-wielders let out a warcry before charging forward. As he approached, I managed to get a good look at him. Earlier, I had been too focused on trying not to get killed to notice how my opponents looked. His entire appearance screamed wet behind the ears. His face was covered in a scarf and a pair of goggles, the clear sign of a recruit. The medium armor he wore was scratched and faded, most likely worn by a Legionary before him. Even the blade in his hands was rusty and dull with chips running up the sharper side. All in all, this couldn't have been more than his second mission.

Once the man got close, he swung his sword horizontally, looking to bisect my neck from my shoulders. Bringing up my Power Fist, I deflected the machete and jabbed my bare left fist into the man's face. The punch hit home, shattering the man's goggles and sending him staggering backwards onto the ground.

As I was about to finish him off, his buddy leapt towards me. Dodging his clumsy thrust, I slammed my blue gauntlet into his chest, allowing the hydraulics to crush the man's chestplate with a sickening crunch. There was no doubt in my mind that all of the Legionary's ribs were left in little pieces. Time and time again, the gauntlet had proved its ability shatter bone like glass.

Reaching down with my left hand, I grabbed the embroidered hilt of the Ranger Sequoia and spun it from its holster. I thumbed back the hammer and aimed the revolver at the downed Legionary's head. The man gave no inclination that his life was in danger, only gazing at the sky with glazed eyes as his breath became steadily more labored and uneven. His fingers twitched in the dirt, now empty of his blade which lay on the road not far from his hand.

"It's best to put him out of his misery," my brain commented as I stared down at the dying corpse. Nodding to myself, I pulled the trigger and sent a bullet through the man's skull. The .45-70 round quickly dropped his body to the ground, lifeless. I could relate to punctured lungs and knew how it felt to slowly die of it. It was best for me to grant him a swift death.

My opponent now dead, I turned my attention back to the first man, who was on his feet and shaking off his pain. He had torn off his shattered goggles and headwrap, exposing his angry green eyes and young features underneath. The Legionary wiped away another flow of blood that came forth from his broken nose before drawing a long knife from his belt. Eyeing my Power Fist and revolver warily, he slowly stalked towards me.

'Really, you think this is a good idea?'

With a sigh, I aimed the Ranger Sequoia at his head and fired. The bullet sped through his left eye, killing him instantly. Replacing the gun back into its holster, I began scanning the street for the Frumentarius. The man was nowhere to be found, something that irked me deeply. I had managed to lose track of him during the fight with the two recruits, something that didn't sit well with me. The fact that the street was completely deserted didn't help my nerves either.

Keeping the Saturnite Fist at the ready, I crouched down and placed my palm against the asphalt. The slightest vibration in the ground went traveling up my entire body, shaking me to my core. I ignored the smaller tremors, instead focusing on the larger and heavier ones. The Frumentarius had been wearing heavy armor, something that would be impossible to sneak in no matter how slow he moved. It just wasn't possible for steel plating like that to move silently.

A sudden quake more intense than the others rattled the road, sending out several smaller vibrations through the earth. The origin seemed to come from behind him, judging by the path of the wave and since that was the direction it came from. Turning around, I eyed the empty street behind me with a careful eye. It was still deserted, a tumbleweed even rolling across to punctuate that fact. I raised an eyebrow underneath my helmet as the plant crossed to the other side before blowing away in the breeze, slowly drifting my left hand back down to the Ranger Sequoia. The damn plant always seemed to show up, no matter where I was. Either it was following me, I was going crazy, or being just plain paranoid. None of those were particularly comforting thoughts.

The asphalt trembled with renewed intensity, forcing me out of my paranoia-induced thoughts. I glanced across the street for the third time, frowning once more at the empty road. All there was to see were the dead bodies of the Legionaries and the waves of heat rising up in the desert sun. There was no sign of the Frumentarius anywhere, but I could feel his heavy foot falls from where I was. It just didn't make any sense.

A shockwave shook the ground, causing me to lose balance and fall to one knee. The tremors were getting stronger. In fact, the cadence was similar to what I felt walking around the Brotherhood of Steel Bunker. It was the heavy footsteps of-

I suddenly threw myself to the left, diving into a roll. The pavement shattered under an invisible force as I tumbled across the street. Quickly stumbling to my feet, I brought the Power Fist up to defend against any more oncoming attacks. However, the town was still empty, with no sign of who had attacked me.

Growling to myself, I flicked my eyes towards the shimmering heat waves. All of them wavered upward in a vertical pattern except for one. It moved perpendicular to the rest of them, slowly advancing towards me. Keeping my gaze on the ghost-like form, I slipped my hand out of the gauntlet and moved it towards the Pip-Boy. If the Frumentarius was indeed wearing a suit of Power Armor, then the Power Fist wouldn't be best suited for it. It wasn't the greatest against Stealth Boys either, because although I could now detect the stealth field after many encounters with both Nightkin and Nightstalkers, it was still a pain in the ass to deal with in a fight.

Before I could even start scrolling through the device, however, the apparition dashed suddenly towards me, causing the heatwaves to swirl in a flurry of movement. I quickly rearmed myself with my gauntlet and leapt backwards out of the way. The asphalt cracked once again as the invisible man slammed into the ground, sending chunks of concrete flying in every which direction. A hydraulic hiss cut through the air as the shimmering apparition moved backward and stood still.

"I will avenge Caesar and the Legion," the silhouette said as he materialized into view. The Stealth Boy must have finally run out, leaving his armored body for the world to see. He was dressed in steel plating that looked very similar to Lanius' own gear. The only difference was that the helmet was not styled after the fearsome visage of Mars, but rather a more fine-looking man in a winged helmet. Granted, the face was still unnerving due to its lifeless eyes and dead expression, but it was still a step up from the old Legate's. "With Jupiter as my witness, I, Gabban, shall end your existence from this world and send you to the realm of eternal torment!"

I raised an eyebrow. "That's a bit… theatrical. Not at all what I was expecting, to be honest." While most Legionaries always had different "I'm going to kill you Courier!" speeches, this one definitely had to be my favorite. It was just so over-the-top it was hilarious. "But that's okay, you gave it your best shot and that's what matters."

If Gabban hadn't been wearing a helmet, I was sure I would have seen a vein twitching on his forehead. He squeezed the handle of his Super Sledge between his hands, causing the metal to groan in protest. The hydraulics lining the arms of the Power Armor hissed, letting out a bellow of steam as the pistons compressed. Taking the hammer in one hand, he pointed the head towards me. "Your jokes only extend your suffering. I hope it was worth it."

"Oh," I grinned, flipping the switch on the Saturnite gauntlet. The blue metal steadily turned crimson as the heating coils inside turned on and flames steadily began licking the outside of the fist. With my other hand, I pulled Blood-Nap from my belt and flipped the bloody bowie knife into a reverse grip. "You can bet your ass it was worth it."

Without warning, the man leapt forward with a bloodthirsty cry, crossing the distance between them surprisingly fast. Given only a second or two's warning, I hopped to the left, dodging Gabban's massive overhead swing. The asphalt beneath my feet shattered and cracked, and my foot tripped on an overturned slab, sending me sprawling onto my stomach.

'Of-fucking-course!' I groaned to myself, rolling onto my back. Cracking open my eyes, I swore again at the sight of the hulking form of the Frumentarius blocked out the sun. The man lifted the sledge high above his head before swinging it down in a deadly arc. Before it crashed down into me, I brought up the Power Fist in a last ditch effort to save myself.

The two weapons collided in a shower of sparks, the sledgehammer hissing against the heat of the gauntlet. I grunted as the suit's hydraulics pushed against my own enhanced biology, each side fighting for dominance over the other. After a couple of seconds of gradually being pushed back, I knew I was fighting a losing battle. The man was just too powerful in his suit for my limbs to handle.

"You can't prolong your fate! Caesar's wrath won't be stopped!" the man shouted, applying even more force. Growling between gritted teeth, I placed the knife behind the gauntlet and tried to push Gabban off of him. That proved easier said than done when I had over four hundred pounds of steel and flesh pressing down on me. While my bones were quite tough, even they had a limit to how much punishment they could take.

The Frumentarius suddenly lifted his foot up over my torso and moved to crush my lower body, chuckling the whole time. Grunting in frustration, I pushed both of my legs against the man's steel boot. A pneumatic hiss escaped from the joints in his knee as his leg pressed down harder, slowly gaining ground against my own. I growled once again, pushing with renewed ferocity. Gabban's bullshit was starting to piss me off.

'C'mon!' I tensed my muscles up and pushed through the burning that had erupted in my limbs. Slowly but surely, I started to win against the man's armor, painfully gaining a bit of breathing room. The Legionary stopped laughing, instead trying to overpower me once again. 'No! Just a little bit more and I can reach-'

Hydraulics forced down upon me interrupted my thinking as Gabban increased his pressure. "You think you can evade death forever?" he sneered. "It will come for you, right now, just like it did for those heathens in Nipton!"

Feeling my temper reach its boiling point, I roared and forced the man off with renewed vigor. The Frumentarius stumbled backwards, giving me enough time to reach into my jacket and swap my knife for a small, grey cylinder. Priming the Pulse grenade, I tossed it towards the stumbling Legionary before leaping after him.

In a crackle of electricity, the bomb exploded, sending an electromagnetic pulse flying out from it. The wave didn't do much to me, only giving me slight burns from the lightning, but it was a whole different story for Gabban. His suit had stopped moving, effectively disabled by the EMP. That didn't stop him from shouting obscenities at me from inside though.

Without hesitation, I drove my gauntlet into the fine-featured face, leaving a solid dent in its wake. The sheer force of the hit sent him reeling backwards, and, with no way to save himself, he went crashing to the ground. His collision shook the street, causing chunks of the road to bounce slightly off the ground.

Ignoring the shockwave, I dove onto the man ferociously, wailing away at his suit without mercy. One punch. Two punches. Three punches. Eventually, they all melded into one continuous series of attacks that never stopped. Blow after blow rained down upon the man slowly cratering the chestplate and mask.

After a couple seconds, I stopped and slumped backwards with an exhausted sigh to examine my handiwork. The helmet was crushed inwards, blood leaking out of cracks made by the bent metal. His chestplate had gotten the same treatment, looking more like the crumpled piece of steel than actual armor.

'F-fucking finally…'

Satisfied that the Frumentarius was dead, I stood up and pulled a canister of Jet from my pocket before lifting up my helmet and taking a puff. Sighing as the drug calmed me down, I pulled it back down and turned to leave.

A small beep, barely loud enough to be heard, reached my ears. Glancing back towards Gabban's corpse, I frowned as the sound steadily grew louder. It seemed to be coming from his body.

"Stop! I've got a bad feeling about this!" my brain tried to argue as I crouched back down over him. If I was going to be honest, I had the same thoughts. When something was beeping, that usually meant one thing, and that was never good for me. Curiosity got the better of me, however, and I reached down inside the man's chestplate. A wave of heat met my gloved hand and I flinched backwards in surprise.

"Alright," I mumbled, standing up once again. "Now I'm leaving." At least my suspicions were confirmed now. The man definitely had some sort of plasma explosive underneath his armor that was probably connected to some sort of vital sensor. Once he was dead, the switch would activate and prime the bomb.

As I turned, the man's steel arm flicked upward into my leg, sending me crashing to the ground. Swearing to myself about how many time postmortem spasms had fucked me over, my eyes widened as the beeping sped up to a frantic pace. Based on how fast it was going, I only had a couple seconds to get away. Thankfully, there still was a bit of time left for me to escape before the plasma incinerated m-.

-e, searing through the simple leather armor I wore and down through the flesh.

I screamed in agony, convulsing as the the skin on my back burned away down to the bone. Beating my fist against the ground, I tried to block out the pain, but my movements only caused sand to dig into the burns, aggravating it further. I reached across to the Pip-Boy to pull out a Stimpak, but the slightest movement only caused pain to shoot up through my body.

"You fucked up!" my brain screamed at me, breaking the flashback. "We're going to die!" The bomb beeped one final time before going absolutely silent. A brief second later, the body exploded, sending a wave of green energy screaming towards him. In a last-ditch effort to save myself, I closed my eyes and activated my GRX implant.

Time slowed to a crawl.

Cracking open one eye, I breathed a sigh of relief as certain death was delayed. Although I hadn't completely froze the explosive, the injection of Turbo had bought me some time. Taking full advantage of it, I brought up my PDA and began flipping through its weapons. There was only one that could get me out of deep shit like this. The Transportalponder. Quickly selecting it, I lowered my arm and stuck out my right hand in anticipation.

The Saturnite Fist disappeared in a blue flash, only to be replaced by the teleportation device. It was about the same size and shape as a detonator, but a tube of blue energy ran right down the middle. At the end of the barrel, a short antenna stuck up, occasionally sparking with odd bolts of electricity.

I wrapped my fingers tightly around the handle just as time resumed its normal course. Pulling the trigger, I felt the familiar sensation of crossing space near instantaneously. A kaleidoscope of colored lights flashed through my vision, blurring details and leaving my brain to just process the fuzzy outlines of passing shapes around me. My stomach twisted into a knot as the vibrant colors and spinning motion gave me a severe case of nausea. There was no way I was going to complain about something as minimal as that when I just managed to escape death by the skin of my tee-

A sudden wave of heat slammed into me, interrupting my mental celebration. The green energy filled the void, and while it didn't hurt too badly, I couldn't say the same for the Transportalponder. Sparks started spraying out from the machine's end as the casing grew warm. Without thinking, I threw the gun away from myself, but, before it got very far, the entire thing exploded, sending chunks of plastic and fried wiring spiraling throughout the wormhole.

The shrapnel didn't do much to me, after all, the Elite Riot Gear was made to take way more punishment than that, but the small explosion fucked me sideways. A shockwave emanated out from the teleporter, knocking me out whatever stream the Think Tank used to transport people to and from the Big Empty. Before I lost consciousness, I could only think of one thing to say.

"Son of a bitch…"

Dust blew across the street, marking the line between the two opposing parties. On one side, I stood with my rifle in hand. Brushing my unkempt, brown hair out from my eyes, I glared down the cracked road towards the other men.

They were dressed like… I paused for a second, struggling to remember the word. Their outfits were definitely familiar, but ever since taking two shots to the skull, my memory had been pretty shoddy. A sharp pain went through my skull as I dug into the shattered memories that were left in an effort to extract the familiar information. Thankfully, just before the pain got unbearable, the word came to me. They were dressed like ancient Romans, a term I presumed came from an old Pre-War history book I read. With the name found, I focused attention back onto the group.

The man with the wolf's head, Vulpes, if I recalled correctly, sneered at me. "Spread the word of what the Legion has done here, child, we need to set an example for the rest of the Mojave."

In response, I tightened my grip on my rifle. What the Legion had done was unforgivable and they needed to pay. However, I was just one man against seven and a couple of dogs, nothing could be done.

Vulpes noticed my hesitation and let out a cold chuckle. "I suggest you keep your self-righteous tendencies to yourself, they are only going to get you killed. That is, unless you want to die." He waited a moment, staring at me expectantly. When I didn't move, the Legionary's grin grew even wider. "That's what I thought." Without another word, he and his group turned and began to leave.

I grit my teeth at the murderer's arrogance and complete disregard for life. People like him made me sick to the stomach. Not wasting another second, I lifted the rifle up and squared the sight up to the back of Vulpes's head. One or two 5.56 millimeter rounds to the skull would be enough to kill him.

Before I could even get the shot off however, one of the other Legionaries glanced over his shoulder at him. Seeing that his leader was in mortal peril, he wasted no time in bringing his own gun up and began firing. The man's shot nailed me right in the shoulder, easily piercing through the thin leather armor I wore. I hissed in pain, dropping the varmint rifle from my hands and quickly applying pressure to the wound.

The wolf-headed Legionary turned back towards me, and smiled again at the sight of the bleeding injury. In response, I reached down with my injured arm and unholstered the 9mm at my hip. When I brought the gun up to fire, however, Vulpes drew his ripper from his waist and sliced the handgun apart.

"Trying to play hero, are we?" he asked, slamming one of his heels into my face. Pain flashed through my mind and hot blood quickly flowed down my face as I went careening back into the dirt. Through teary eyes, I could see Vulpes's head come into view, shaking in disappointment. "I thought you'd be smarter than that."

"Well I'm sorry to disappoint," I said, slowly crawling backward with one hand. "But the opinion of a murderer doesn't carry much weight in my books."

Gesturing to one of his men, Vulpes crouched down and stared inquisitively at me. With frightening speed, the Legionary understood his leader's request and drew his machete from his waist before handing it to him. Taking it in his hand, Vulpes ran his finger over one of the rusty edges of the blade, scraping off the outermost layer of it. Satisfied with his examination, he spun the blade in his hand and drove it through my leg.

"Gah!" Pain erupted up through my thigh and I let the tears fall freely this time. Shakily, I reached a hand over to the Pip-Boy, struggling to stay conscious, but, when I couldn't turn the dial correctly, I gave up. Darkness had started to envelope the edges of my vision, slowly taking over everything I could see. I blinked fiercely, trying in vain to wipe the black spots out of my eyes. It only made more appear.

"Although your bravery was incredibly stupid, it would be considered admirable amongst the ranks of the Legion. Which," Vulpes said, digging the machete blade deeper into his thigh and pulling a green canister from his belt. "Is why I'm going to give you a chance to survive." I tightened my grip on the broken road as another wave of pain shot up through my leg. I wasn't sure how much longer it would be before I eventually passed out from blood loss. Between the machete and gunshot wound, it definitely would be soon.

The wolf-headed Legionary grabbed my hair and yanked upwards, dragging my prone form off the ground. I cried out as the blade stabbed further into my leg, only causing more blood to flow from the wound. Vulpes ignored the cry, instead shoving the glowing cylinder in front of my face.

"This, as I'm sure you're familiar with, is a plasma grenade. Quite deadly at this close a range, right?" I said nothing, instead choosing to spit on the man's face. Sneering down at him, Vulpes wiped it off his face in disgust. The look didn't fade as pulled the pin on the grenade and slipped it into my pocket. The Legionary wasted no time getting up, signaling to his soldiers that it was time to leave.

As the sounds of their footsteps faded, I quickly reached a hand into my pocket and pulled out the bomb. The plasma inside was beginning to heat up the casing, which only left him one or two seconds to get rid of it. In a fit of panic, I hurriedly tossed the grenade up above me and curled my body as best as I could to protect myself from the ensuing explosion. Half a second later, a green flash lit up the sky and a wall of heat slammed into me, searing through the simple leather armor I wore and down through the flesh.

I screamed in agony, convulsing as the the skin on my back burned away down to the bone. Beating my fist against the ground, the tried to block out the pain, but my movements only caused sand to dig into the burns, aggravating it further. I reached across to the Pip-Boy to pull out a Stimpak, but the slightest movement caused pain to shoot up through my body.

'There's no point,' I dropped back, gasping for air. 'I ain't gonna survive this.' Slowly, I stopped resisting my body and allowed myself to drift off to sleep.

For those of you new to this story, I used to tell it in the third person. However, after rereading it and looking through my plans ahead, I realized that it would be a much better story if told in the first person. I apologize if the grammar is a bit clunky and doesn't work for this chapter, I plan on going back and fixing it at a later date.

I hope you enjoyed.