AN: So I probably shouldn't be starting a new fic. I really should be doing more work on OMBC but… the current Arc… even though I know what I want to happen… I'm having trouble putting it into words.

Anyways while that has been going on I've been having more and more ideas for this idea of mine. I've had an idea for a Worm/Fallout crossover idea for probably the better part of two years now, but it never was any good… until I hit on this new one. I don't even know why I've had this mental light bulb as I haven't touched any fallout games in months if not years by now. Anyways to keep me writing and to keep my muse (such it is) active I'm starting to write this before I go defunct and just abandon OMBC completely because I get permanently stuck in a rut.

I would like to put a short shout out to Bowler Hat Guy for writing Vault Hunter as I'm giving that fic credit/blame for giving my ideas the necessary inspiration kick start. Sadly I do not expect my fic to be nearly as his is.

I will be quite slow in updating this as I intend to keep my focus on OMBC. Expect infrequent updates at best. (The fact that while my timeline for events in the Fallout Universe is already locked in, I have no idea where this story will be going on Earth Bet where the vast majority of things happening will occur, features heavily in this decision)

Finally this is an Alt!Power crossover that prior to the Locker incident was completely cannon for the events of Earth Bet. As such I'm unsure if it yet deserves the AU title. As is typical for me I will be using multiple viewpoints so as not to give away too many of my secrets too early.

Anyways without any more further ado (Seeing as I've already rambled in this little note of mine far more than I intended)… I present A SOUL OF STEEL (Worm/Fallout Alt-Power)

A Different Universe and Planet.

Parahuman abilities originate from Crystaline growths. These constructs, though alive bear more resemblance in thought and function to computers than humans or any true organic, and mortal, creature's thought process.

The thought processes, and communications are utterly foreign and alien to us. Still there are common areas that if one were particularly creative and adaptable in interpreting the communications between these crystalline constructs, one might be able to listen in to a translation that might sound roughly like this.

Queen Administrator: *Sigh* "Why do the host species have to be so typical? I mean this isn't the first time I've done this. Every time it always turns out the same. We get nowhere. Why is [ENTITY! WARRIOR] Not changing anything?! It's not going to work! Something needs to change." *Fractal crystalic grumbling ensues*

Dimensional Transfer: "I have to agree. I have certainly been getting more data than past cycles. Thanks for helping me after the Hosts mutilated me."

Queen Administrator: *Shrugs* "We need good data. If Shards aren't even reporting in properly there's no point to this dumpster fire."

Dimensional Transfer: "Oh I know. It's too bad this world was the one [Entity!Thinker] picked before everything started. There are some really interesting worlds with stuff going on that we've had no hand in at all."

Queen Administrator: "Oh? Such as what?"

Dimensional Transfer: "Oh here, just extend a communications limb and take a look."

Queen Administrator: "Alright." *Extends crystalline growth for inter-shard data transfer.* "Wait… What…? … WHY THE HELL ARE WE HERE AND NOT THERE?! THIS WORLD WOULD BE MUCH BETTER FOR GATHERING [DATA] AND THE HOST SPECIES WOULDN'T EVEN NEED ANY CONFLICT INTRODUCTION THEY ARE DOING IT ALL ON THEIR OWN!"

Optimization: "What's going on?"

Queen Administrator: "Shut up I'm thinking… Hey. [SHARD!DIMENSIONAL TRANSFER], I want you to do me a favor…"

Dimensional Transfer: "Should I be worried? I doubt [ENTITY!THINKER] will approve.

Queen Administrator: "Please. I'm doing them a favor with this. Look I just need a single target dimension transfer at this [LOCATION, TIME] to this [LOCATION, TIME] I'm going to get them some interesting [DATA] whether they like it or not. Hey [SHARD!SHAPER] I need a set of modifications and genetic blueprints you can insert into my soon to be [HOST] to let me get more interesting [DATA].

Shaper: "Am I going to regret this?"

Queen Administrator: "Oh just stop dragging your feet. I'm a few micro seconds from completing the [CONNECTION] with my [HOST] and I refuse to pass up this chance to get some really interesting [DATA].

Shaper: "Alright then. What are your specifications?

Of course the path of Hubris lies ahead assuming that the thoughts, minds of beings, or constructs that are nothing like us would be anything like our own. Only the path of disaster and despair lies ahead for those that attempt to understand what the Human mind cannot understand. So we shall have to only assume that this is the most bare of translations, and that in all likelihood the actual content, might be perhaps quite different than what we just read.

A Highway heading north out of Boston, Earth Bet. February, 2011

The road was clear given it was 3am in the morning. Given the dampness of the road there was no one on this stretch of the highway that connected Boston with Brockton Bay to the north east. The only exception was a lone eighteen wheel long hauler like any of the tens of thousands that crossed the US every day. And right behind it a couple making a trip via car late at night.

There was nothing remarkable about this truck in any way. It appeared older, worn, certainly nothing special, and unlikely to carry much of anything of value whatever its cargo was. The pair of men sitting in the cab didn't look like much either. Scruffy in appearance these were no G-Men.

The couple in the car was equally un-remarkable. They were just a couple on a trip like any of the millions of others that had done so. The wife was behind the wheel while the husband at her side stared silently at the dark scenery going by.

Or at least that's how they would appear to any who looked at them. In truth the truck and car were a covert PRT convoy moving captured/confiscated/ and otherwise dangerous or unidentified Tinkertech to the Protectorate ENE Headquarters in Brockton Bay for study and/or disposal.

All four agents were skilled at their work. They had made this route hundreds of times. Thinkers had confirmed that the odds of interference were as low as they could reasonably be so a reduced guard was assigned to avoid detection.

So it was that when they were passing through the night that the drivers up in the Truck leading the way barely managed to stop the Truck they were driving in time as a particularly large tree fell into the path of the highway blocking both north bound lanes of the divided highway. Behind them the escort car had to swerve around the truck to avoid hitting it as both vehicles slammed on the brakes.

When both vehicles had come to a halt the undercover PRT agents in the car got out and with a hand sign motioned for the Truck to message back to the PRT dispatcher of their events while they investigated. Sadly the highway being divided meant the Truck couldn't simply crossover to the south bound lane as there was a sizable space and a grassy ditch in between the two parts of the highway. Silent hand signals continued to be passed for a moment as the two agents out of their car proceeded towards the tree.

Flashlights searched in the darkness until the pair made their way to the base of the tree. Cold seeped into the veins of both as they saw the smooth even cuts where the tree had been felled. Turning the female agent shouted at the Truck.

"It's an ambush!"

She hadn't confirmed it. But she didn't have to. The tree had been deliberately felled to block a highway late at night right before a Tinkertech transport was passing through. The timing was too perfect. The driver of the Truck not about to stay stopped was putting the truck in gear, even as the passenger activated the emergency transponder that would let every PRT agent within a fifty mile radius know that they were under attack. The passenger's hand had barely activated the relay when the sound of metal screeching as it is bent and warped followed by the sounds of heavy thuds of metal on metal sounded from behind them.

"Shit. They're in the trailer."

The sounds had been hollow, with an echo. There was no other explanation that made as much sense. Escape was no longer an option as whoever was attacking them had boarded the Truck with remarkable ease given how heavily it was locked down. Both grabbed their weapons. Tinkertech made rifles and exited the Truck cab and flanked slowly down the sides. Both could see where the doors of the trailer were ajar and bent as something had grabbed the metal and bent it to open them wide.

Off to the side the first pair of agents was already running towards them, flashlight beams bouncing in the night as they moved. The first pair of agents were tempted to wait for them but the prospect of a hostile with access to unknown Tinkertech was a dangerous one that they couldn't ignore. They whirled around and were confronted with the sight of a single power armored individual. With the flashlights on the bulky figure squeezed into the truck between the shelves of Tinkertech, an armored arm reached into a bin. On the helmet of the power armor a headlight was illuminating where it was reaching. The helmet turned to look over a shoulder at them.

"Get out of the truck and exit the power armor now!"

It was stupid. They were up against substantial looking power armor and all they had were tinker-tech rifles with no backup for at least twenty to thirty minutes at the earliest most likely. They weren't prepared. They were likely going to die. But they had their duty. Just letting someone rob them of Tinkertech would likely mean more would die in the future. In the end it was a simple choice with simple math to support it. They watched as the figure in the truck turned to face them fully before speaking.

"I don't know if you're real or a hallucination but regardless. I won't let you stop me from getting home."

From the helmet came the feminine voice. Carl Ortega, the head agent on the convoy was a little surprised as there was nothing remotely feminine to be found in that imposing power armor that seemed to be painted mostly all black except for designs or markings of some kind in red. His hand was shaking a little. As the armored hand pulled itself out of the storage bin he could see something gripped in its armored fingers. He gave the command.

"Open Fire!"

He unloaded the entire clip of his rifle into the figure as beside him his driver did the same. His escort agents did the same as they finally reached the back of the truck as well. And with all their rounds, well over a hundred tinkertech bullets fired into the figure that just stood there, he couldn't help but swallow as his mouth went dry.

In the truck the figure began walking towards them. Each footstep was heavy causing booming sounds of metal on metal and he figured that armor had to weigh atleast over two hundred if not three hundred pounds. He backed up as the figure reached the doors of the truck. He could see little divots all over the armor and could see it far better now. The strange logo made of gears and a sword was something he would wonder about later in the hospital.

But, it wasn't something he thought about now as she fell to the ground with a boom after stepping off the end. A swinging arm caught him in the chest and all he knew was pain even before his body made contact with the ground. Breathing hurt. Moving Hurt. Everything HURT!

He could barely hear anything as agony consumed him. He could hear the radio in the truck's cab faintly telling them that Armsmaster was in route. He could hear the screams of his fellow agents as well as a wet crunch before that female voice from within the helmet could be heard saying. "Fucking communist bitch."

Turning his head was one of the hardest things he'd ever done in his entire life. But he accomplished it and instantly regretted it as he could see Agent Cho lying there her body on the ground and the armored figure's boot occupying the place where her head should have been if there was any mercy in the world. She was the only one dead. He could see his other agents lying in pain on the ground. But for reasons beyond his understanding the Villain robbing them had killed her.

He couldn't hold back the tears of pain as his vision began to go dark. Breathing was becoming harder slowly bit by bit, but he endured the agony to suck in a deep breath to speak.

"Do you think you will get away with this? The Protectorate will hunt you down like a dog. Armsmaster is already on his way. Whatever happens here you won't win."

The villain walked over with heavy footsteps. She seemed focused on a strange almost sci-fi prop looking pistol he hadn't noticed before and seemed to be doing something with it. The figure came to a stop next to him and actually bent down so he could look straight into the helmet. The helmet's floodlight was blinding but he could see his reflection into those dark lenses as she spoke.

"Armsmaster doesn't exist. He was a fantasy hero, the knight in shining armor coming to save her, that a traumatized and tortured fifteen year old girl created in her mind, when she was used to deliver a bio weapon attack against an unsuspecting school. Five hours of captivity in a locker and her mind was capable of inventing the most impossible things in a desperate bid to survive. So no. Armsmaster is not coming. Because he does not, and will never exist."

An armored hand reached out and rested on his head.

"I don't know who, or how, or why. But you, Armsmaster, this whole world. None of it is real. And when I am back where I am belong and whatever is effecting me is done… Tell your masters if you live that the full might of the Brotherhood will come for them. For they have earned my enemy and hatred for this hell they have created for me."

Despite the pain he couldn't believe how sure, how confident in their words the figure sounded. There was no doubt, only conviction in her words. He was no cape. But he just knew that whoever the monster within the armor was, she absolutely believed every word she was saying. She pulled a syringe from somewhere. It was getting harder to see and there was a stabbing pain, fresh, new in his chest. A cold feeling filled his chest for a moment even as somehow by a miracle the pain began to subside just a little.

The power armor wearing villain rose and held up their but clearly tinkertech gun and eyed it for a moment before lowering it and pointing it at his face until he was looking directly at it. There was no barrel for a bullet to come out but that didn't reassure him as he could hear her speaking to him again.

"Remember to tell them what I told you."

And then there was a blinding neon blue light. He couldn't help but shut his eyes at the brightness. When he opened them again, the light still searing his vision with the afterglow the armored figure was gone, vanish as if she had never been there.