They'd made surprisingly good time getting out of the urban ruins of DC thanks to Michael's intimate knowledge of the metro system. It was just starting to get dark when they emerged from an auxiliary maintenance tunnel entry point just outside of the Bethesda ruins. What little fighting there was in the metro had been swiftly ended. As it turned out, not many Raiders were comfortable hiding in dark, unfamiliar areas these days. What little they'd brought from the DC Ranger compound was easily stuffed away in rucksacks that each member of their party carried, making their travels that much easier.

Still, it was getting dark. Additionally, the dark, heavy clouds above threatened them with potentially radioactive rain. "We'll head to the Meresti Trainyard. The station below is home to a group of people I know. It'll be safe to bunk down there tonight."

Both Reilly and Theo took his word for it. Most of the safe places they knew of were in downtown DC, usually small, easily-defended alcoves of decrepit buildings or large storage closets in the metro. Still, the Meresti Trainyard was said to be haunted by the spirits of vengeful Wastelanders who were killed by Raiders. At least, that's what Three Dog had to say about the place, but since it didn't have anything to do with The Wanderer, Raiders who listened in on the broadcasts took it as a challenge.

Yet, upon arriving in the vicinity of the trainyard, an eerie stillness blanketed the area. Nobody was around. Rather, nothing was around. No Raiders, Wastelanders, or even stray Molerats. As they approached the closed-off metro tunnel, they could see a single, lit lantern next to the door.

"Looks like they're out hunting. We'll have to let ourselves in." The Wanderer said, not bothering to even slow his stride.

Theo, however, was not nearly as brave. "Uh, hunting? Hunting what? There's nothing around for.. miles."

The Wanderer gently pushed on the door, causing a small, yet echoed creaking sound to ring out from inside the tunnel. "The Family are hunting people."

Hearing this, Theo nearly dropped his rifle. As it was, it fumbled in his arms for a moment before he got a good grip again. Theo wasn't comfortable out in the open. He'd grown up in an urban environment. If anything, he thrived in it. He could find things to scavenge that would have otherwise gone right under the noses of everyone else all over the DC ruins. Out in the open? He could barely tell what direction he was going. He felt like an ambush was just behind the next rock or crater.

"Relax, Theo. They only hunt Raiders. Mostly."

The Wanderer's words did not bring him any comfort.

To the West, the two Regulators Ghost and Emile had eyes on Fort Bannister. They'd decided to scout it out first in case it was a trap. From what they could see, the rumors were true. Talon Company's firm hold on the pre-war fort was gone. Instead, it was lightly guarded by a group called Reilly's Rangers. They knew that particular group was a much more amicable 'Mercenary' group than Talon, but that didn't mean they could just walk up to their front door.

Regulators didn't have the best reputation despite their good intentions. Some believed they went too far in their pursuit of justice, which was understandable. Several chapters had strayed from the original intentions of the Regulators, and it was up to people like them to either get things back on track, or to eliminate the problem.

In addition, Regulators, while fairly well-known to exist, were in reality not easy to find out in the Wasteland. Often times Regulators became focused on a single 'target', rather than being available to any who needed their help. In a way, both Ghost and Emile could understand one of the reasons Cruz might have an axe to grind with The Wanderer. Though he was but a single man, countless Wastelanders have benefited from his help, and there was the sense that he could be anywhere in the Wasteland at any time if he so wanted. To many, he was the 'long arm of the law'.

"So, do you think he'll show up?" Emile asked, shuffling down off the large rock he was on and sitting on the scorched dirt beneath.

Ghost shrugged in response. "I dunno. He isn't exactly known to break promises, but there's no telling if that's because he's an honest man or if everyone who might say different is dead."

They both thought back to The Wanderer's words during their short 'meeting'. He didn't outright deny being a 'do-gooder', but he implied that wasn't how he saw himself. They were both sure that if it came down to a fight, The Wanderer wouldn't flinch at putting a bullet in each of them.

Emile shuddered at the thought of being pinned down by a rusty railroad spike. They'd seen several people who met similar fates already. Of course, Raiders had no problem hanging people from hooks and such, but this was different. It wasn't some Psycho-fueled Raider doing it. It was a clam, collected individual who just so happened to be one of the most renown people in the entirety of the post-apocalyptic wasteland.

"You think Cruz will try to start a war with The Wanderer?"

Ghost pondered the question for a good few moments. They didn't know anything about Cruz other than she seemed to have a bit of a self-inflated sense of importance. They'd barely had half a conversation with her before she was ordering them to find The Wanderer. She might just be crazy enough to try it, but that wasn't the problem. The problem was if The Wanderer responded in kind or not. If he didn't, but the Wasteland found out about it, they'd lose what little goodwill they had. If he did, well, they might be able to put up a decent fight individually, but the man had torn apart the Enclave after he'd been captured and stripped of his weaponry, and they had Power Armor.

"I think Cruz knows that's a terrible idea. I can't imagine she'd consider it if she was thinking rationally." Ghost said.

Emile let out a chuckle. "You think it's rational to sent two men to 'bring in' the same man who took down an army?"

"No. No I don't."

As it turned out, there had only been one person guarding the Meresti Station. A gruff, older man. He welcomed Michael and his companions without a second thought and ushered them inside.

"It's good to see you, Wanderer. Have you come for supplies, or..?" Karl, the older man, asked.

Michael shook his head, patting the rucksack drawn across his back. "We're actually transporting some supplies. Just needed a place to bed down for the night." He said, nodding in the direction of Reilly and a still nervous Theo.

Karl nodded, understanding the situation. He knew The Wanderer could go for an extremely long time without rest or sleep, and that there wasn't a whole hell of a lot that posed a threat to the man even at night, but it was different traveling in a group. "Well, as Vance has said time and time again, you're always welcome here." The older man led the trio to a set of beds, a bunk bed and a single bed. Following Michael's lead, Reilly and Theo dropped their rucks on the beds.

Michael looked over to Theo, who still seemed to be very nervous despite the hospitality. One corner of his mouth rose in a half-smirk. Theo had good wits about him to be nervous. They were in a den that belonged to Vampires, after all. Though they didn't quite match the storybooks, they were still stronger than normal people and had cravings for blood. Human blood, specifically. They weren't exactly cannibals, though. The former residents of Andale and the residents of Meresti were very, very different people. Still, he wouldn't get any sleep if he was wound up like a spring all night.

"Theo, you can relax. The Family won't attack you."

"Who are The Family, anyways?" Reilly asked, not quite understanding the situation.

Not having a reason to keep it from them, Michael explained. "The Family are a group of people who think of themselves as Vampires. They don't like the sun, they're stronger than they otherwise would be normally, and they crave human blood. They don't necessarily need it to survive, but without it they feel like an addict going through withdrawals."

Reilly cocked an eyebrow at that explanation. "Vampires? Really?"

He shrugged in response. "They're not exactly like the books, but there's truth it. As far as I can tell, they've undergone similar.. changes, like I have. I can't really pinpoint the cause, but I haven't looked into it all that deeply. 'Vampire' fits what they are."

Michael closed his eyes, thinking back to when he first met Vance. "Their leader, despite the whole 'Vampire' thing, is a good man. Honorable. I helped them clear up a situation with a nearby settlement. Had Three Dog start some rumors about the place, since Raiders love any challenge that doesn't involve me. It keeps The Family 'fed', and it helps control the flow of Raiders. Win-win."

"Indeed." A voice, coming from the shadows, said.

Reilly and Theo whipped around to see a man walking out from the darkness. He wore a brown duster much like Michael, albeit without any armor underneath. At his side were two swords, one seemingly home-made, and another a Chinese Officer's Sword. They were both bloody, and so were his mouth and hands, at the end of which were very thick, claw-like finger nails.

"It is good to see you again, Wanderer. Are these strays that you have brought me?" He asked, sizing Reilly and Theo up. His gaze was similar to that of The Wanderer's. It was the gaze of an apex predator, though it was much less intense than The Wanderer's.

Michael shook his head. "They're clean, Vance. We just needed a place to bunk down for the night. We'll be out of your hair at sunrise."

"Very well. I'll see to my people and our haul." With that, Vance left, disappearing into the dark once more.

Michael turned to Reilly and Theo. Reilly was somewhat on edge, but was much less so than Theo, who was not at all comfortable with the situation at hand. "That's Vance, The Family's leader. Every once in a while I'll come across others like him and his group and bring them to him if they haven't already gone off the deep end."

"How many of them are there?" Reilly asked.

"Including Vance, there's ten. When I first met them, there were only seven. Two have died since then."

The casual way he said that two had died reminded Reilly that even people like Vance were lower on the metaphorical totem pole of what could be considered 'apex predators'.

"Anyway, we leave at first light. We'll make a stop at Big Town since I've got some business to take care of there. After that, it's straight to Fort Bannister."

By the time Ghost woke up and knew something was wrong, it was too late. He sat up slowly and pulled his suppressed N99 out from under his duster, calling his partner in a quiet voice. He didn't answer.

It was nearly daybreak, but it was still too dark to see anything past a few meters. He raised his sidearm, only for an snap to ring out in the distance and a chunk of rock behind him to explode and fragment.

"That was a warning shot," He heard, a voice just beyond his cone of vision. "The next one will be between your eyes unless you drop the gun."

Ghost's frown deepened. He didn't see a muzzle flash, but it sounded like their shots were suppressed. Without his partner, he wasn't that strong of a fighter in these kinds of situations. Having no choice, he slowly placed his weapon on the ground.

"Knives, too." The voice said. For nearly a full minute, Ghost pulled various knives out from his duster, his pants, his sleeves, his boots, his belt, and from under his shirt. In total, there were twelve knives that he had stashed away.

Then he heard footsteps approaching, revealing a gruff looking older man in combat armor that had recently been painted green. "Good. Now, turn around and put your hands on your head."

"Where's my partner?" Ghost demanded, not moving an inch. The other man rolled his eyes.

"He's fine. Bit roughed up since he decided to fight, but other than a few cuts and bruises he's right as rain. That changes if you try anything or refuse to cooperate. Hands on your head. Now."

Ghost couldn't tell if he was lying or not, but the way he spoke so frankly made him think lying might not be this guy's style, so he complied. Not that he had much of a choice, anyways. He didn't even know who these people were. Moments later, he was cuffed tightly. Then, everything went black.

One of the happiest moments of Theo's life was leaving Meresti station and getting out of the immediate area. The entire place put him on edge like nothing else. He'd rather be in the den of Super Mutants than stay in that place any longer.

He hadn't seen any of The Family on their way out, but The Wanderer had said they sleep during the day, which was just fine in his eyes. The less he had to see those things, the better. Vance alone was something that terrified him to his very core. It was like every second his eyes were on him, he was deciding whether he was friend or food.

Up ahead, they could see a small town surrounded by what was more or less a moat coming into view. "That's Big Town. It's where the kids of Little Lamplight go once they get too old to stay there." The Wanderer said. Of course, they'd heard of the place. Up until a few years ago, it was constantly under siege by Super Mutants. They'd go in, take a few kids, and leave once or twice every couple of months. For the Super Mutants, it was like a kind of farm before The Wanderer showed up.

Now, it was more or less a fortress town like Megaton. Walls had been built, buildings were constructed, and security was tight. It was a safe place for caravans to trade and rest at, and other travelers could find a place to bed down for the night there, though only former Little Lamplight residents could live there.

A head popped up from the other side of the gate, covered by a security helmet that had a full-face visor. The head turned back, like they were saying something to someone else behind the wall, before hopping down. As The Wanderer and his group got closer, they could hear the noise from the town pick up.

She'd seen it before at Megaton, but Reilly was still amazed at the reception Michael received from the settlements in the Wasteland. Not even the Brotherhood got that warm of a reception. Like before, the gates of the settlement opened before they even got to them.

"Looks like you're pretty popular around here." Reilly said.

The Wanderer shrugged. "They were having trouble with a nest of Super Mutants nearby. Couple of them were kidnapped, including their only doctor at the time."

He didn't even need to explain what he had done about the situation for Reilly to understand the rest of the story. A nest of Super Mutants against The Wanderer? It wasn't even close to a fair fight.

A dark-skinned young woman came running out to them. She wore a white, dingy shirt and brown cargo fatigues with a red bandana. As she got closer, Reilly could tell the shirt wasn't dingy from dirt. It was dried blood. She came to a stop right in front of them with a big smile on her face.

"Wanderer! It's been a while since you've visited. Bittercup thought you'd finally gotten tired of her teasing." She said, following them back toward the gates.

"I've been busy. Had some things I needed to take care of."

The girl laughed. "We heard! Three Dog says you took down Talon Company. Said you took out a hundred guys with your bare fists!"

The Wanderer shook his head. "Sounds like Three Dog's been taking creative liberties with my 'exploits'. I'll have to remind him to tone it down next time I'm downtown."

As the group passed through the gates, Reilly and Theo saw that nearly every eye was on The Wanderer, each of them holding immense admiration.

"But you could do it! I remember watching you fight that one big Super Mutant with a combat knife!"

That got Reilly's attention. Super Mutants were all big, but the bigger ones were referred to as either 'Masters' or 'Overlords'. They were bigger, meaner, and stronger than the typical Super Mutant. Their raw strength was greater than a Death Claw's. He'd taken one on with a knife?

"That was one on one, and he was fighting indoors. Didn't have full mobility. Plus, I didn't have time to reload, or I would've shot him instead. I've told you this, Red."

The girl, Red, let out a small laugh. "Yeah, but it was still amazing to see. When he hit you and you didn't move, I thought I must've been dreaming."

The Wanderer subconsciously flexed his left arm, the very same one he blocked the Super Mutant Overlord's strike with. It was usually a bad idea to take a hit you know you can dodge, but sometimes a show of force is a better way to catch an opponent off-guard. There was one thing that Super Mutants understood, and that was strength. It was a good way to make a point that it could clearly understand.

Still, if he hadn't been tempered by the Wasteland the way he was, the hit would've shattered every bone in his arm and sent him flying into the wall. Instead, he only created some micro-fractures that had since been healed, strengthening his bones even further.

"And I'll remind you not to try that yourself, Red. Anyways, I stopped by to talk to you about someone who should be coming to Big Town from Little Lamplight any day now."

Red tilted her head. "New kid? He someone special?"

The Wanderer chuckled lowly. "He used to think he was. He is, or was, the mayor of Little Lamplight. He's a good kid, though. Tough as nails. Good shot with a rifle. When he gets here, I want you to show him the ropes. One he's used to things, he'll make a good candidate for security on scavenging runs."

"Alright, I'll do what I can. But you know some of the kids we've gotten lately have been cocky little shits. Lost one of 'em the other day down in Germantown. Raiders. They set up camp there. We're working on getting a party together to deal with 'em."

The Wanderer's face darkened. Much of the materials used to build up Big Town came from Germantown. It wasn't too long of a trek and since the route passed by Meresti Trainyard, it was pretty safe, too. He turned to Reilly and Theo. "Change of plans. You two can check out the town for a coupel of hours. Red will show you around."

"What about you?" Theo asked. He almost regret it when he saw a vast amount of maliciousness creep into The Wanderer's visage.

"I'm going hunting."

Robert Joseph MacCready was not having a good day. In fact, it might be the absolute worst day he's ever had. Firstly, he officially had to give up his position as Mayor of Little Lamplight and move to Big Town. That wasn't so bad, except for the fact that Princess had been re-elected as he was leaving. The girl was just a couple of months younger than him, but she knew fuck-all about being a Mayor.

Next, he was nearly killed by a Rad-Scorpion that had popped up behind him. As it was, he just barely managed to get away without any serious injuries. His little .38 revolver couldn't pierce the hard shell it had, so he'd been forced to use his rifle as a bit of a battering-ram to get it away so he could line up a shot. That had worked, but it also broke the scope of the rifle.

The very same rifle The Wanderer had given him and taught him how to use. He'd been more than harsh with the man, but he was still willing to go that far to help him and Little Lamplight. An older model DKS-501, mostly found throughout the Capital Wasteland. The Wanderer had made some modifications, mostly internal to improve the performance of the gun, but he also attached a suppressor to the rifle. With the scope broken, however, it wasn't nearly as useful as it otherwise would be.

"Somebody help! Anybody!" MacCready heard a voice call out from far off. His first instinct was to spring into action, but The Wanderer had taught him to think things through. With his rifle's long-range capabilities hampered and only a snubnose .38 revolver as a backup, he didn't have much to fall back on. Still, at the very least he could find out who was calling for help and decide what to to from there.

Being careful not to make too much noise, he quickly made his way to where the voice had come from. As he slowly made his way up over a small hill he saw it. He saw them.

Super Mutants. Four of them, with a single prisoner wrapped up in rope. It wasn't a good angle, so he couldn't see the prisoner clearly, but the voice was definitely female. From what he could see, she was covered in some dirty, tattered garbs. The Super Mutants had made 'camp' in a small crater, which amounted to little more than starting a fire and sitting down. They were about 75 yards away from him.

MacCready slid down his side of the hill, his heart pounding in his chest. He never liked Super Mutants. They were monsters, through and through. They constantly attacked Little Lamplight for such a long time until The Wanderer came and put them down for good in Vault 87. That was when MacCready started wanting to be like The Wanderer. Strong. Brave. Smart. A hero. The Wanderer wouldn't leave that girl to die. He never let anyone die if he could reach them. He'd put his own life at risk to save another's, even if he was never thanked for it.

MacCready's heartbeat slowed and he made his decision. If you want something, or want to be something, you have to start somewhere. Today, here was his somewhere. After ensuring his weapons were loaded, he made a plan.

"Reilly isn't going to be happy about this." Brick said, sneering at Sergeant Pepper. She'd been shocked when Pepper and 'his stooges' brought two tied-up and unconscious Regulators into the base. She knew they'd start pulling some shit after Reilly and The Wanderer were gone.

He'd put them in what was more or less an interrogation room at the rear of the underground Fort. He'd seen plenty of people go into that room and not nearly as many come out. "They were snoopin' around. Despite what you might think, Regulators aren't all that great. They see the world in black and white, and Mercenary groups, any of them, are 'black'."

Donovan, who had heard the initial commotion and had come to check things out, was torn. Allowing anyone to snoop around their base of operations was a bad idea, but taking them prisoner was going a bit far. Especially since they were Regulators, who were known for pursuing revenge for a fallen comrade.

"Snooping or not, other Regulators won't hesitate to come after us if anything happens to those two. They're not pushovers." Donovan said.

Before responding, Pepper took out a cigarette and lit it, enjoying the small burn of his throat and lungs. "Look, I just did what I thought was best. Since both our leaders are gone, and you two haven't been so helpful lately, me an' my boys took care of it ourselves."

Brick grit her teeth at Pepper's response. Of course they weren't helpful with Talon Mercs. Why would they be? "Took care of it? You have no right or authority to do something like this! You're lucky Reilly let you in at all."

Sergeant Pepper audibly laughed, further enraging Brick. "Right? Authority? Remind me, missy, what kind of chain of command do the Rangers have?"

None. The Rangers had always been a small, tightly-knit group. Dallas, Kira, and Theo were the only non-Brotherhood members who had been let in before, and two of them were dead. There was no need for a proper chain of command. Reilly was the leader, and failing that, Butcher was. Butcher was dead and Reilly was gone at the moment.

"You could have at least consulted us about it." Donovan said. Pepper laughed again.

"Consult? How am I gonna do that when the four of you leave the room the second we enter it?" He asked. There was no response. He turned back towards the door where their temporary prisoners were, along with James and Mason, and entered, leaving the two senior Rangers alone.

Big Town had transformed from a barely surviving settlement into a flourishing, secure town full of life. They weren't as big as Megaton or Rivet City, but the sheer selection of various wares for sale dwarfed that of the other two major settlements.

Reilly saw several kinds of firearms that she'd only ever seen inside of Michael's home in Megaton, as well as leisure products like soaps, shampoos, and even perfumes. There was also a wide selection of food, ranging from the typical 'this never expires' boxed and canned foods to fresh produce and meats.

The two Rangers weren't the only outsiders in Big Town, either. Various people from all over the wasteland could be seen, from poor Wastelanders to Caravaners. Big Town, Reilly realized, had become a major trade hub, and that was a significant change in the Wasteland. Before, other than Rivet City and Megaton, the only other trade hub was where the Caravans called home: Canterbury Commmons.

So much had changed since 'The Wanderer' had stepped out of the Vault. She felt both proud of what Michael had managed to accomplish and scared of what might become of the Capital Wasteland once he was gone.

"Reilly, check this out!" She heard Theo call. He was at a small booth that didn't seem to have much traffic around it. As she approached, she saw stacks of holotapes on the booth's table.

"This guy's got every single Three Dog broadcast about The Wanderer. It goes all the way back to before he had that interview." Theo said.

The merchant behind the booth, a young man no older than 18 or so, nodded. "The first tape isn't entirely complete. We were just recording a song when Three Dog started talking about something that had happened downtown about someone in a Vault suit. But ever since then I've gotten every single one. I knew something big was coming and we had piles of these holotapes from the souvenir shop back at Lamplight."

This surprised Reilly. She hadn't started paying attention to Three Dog's broadcasts until The Enclave became involved, and even then she didn't catch them all. They were clearly numbered and there were several complete sets. Still, she was surprised they hadn't all been sold by now. Michael, 'The Wanderer' was a hero. Who wouldn't want to learn more about the most influential person the Wasteland has ever seen? She herself didn't know as much as she'd like about the man's past. If she could learn more about him, maybe she'd understand him better.

"How much for a set?"

"One more time. Tell me where you came from. Otherwise, I'll feed you to a deathclaw."

"I told you, man! We came from Detroit! A buncha Brotherhood are moving in on the place, so there's been a huge turf war between us an' them! We heard this place was doing real well, so we-" He stopped, screaming in pain as a knife was driven into his right shoulder.

"So you thought you'd set up shop here? Run away from a fight you can't win? Bad move. How'd you make it past the high-rad zones?"

The Raider groaned in pain. "We snuck into The Pitt for supplies and found the rail tunnel. Waited until the slaves weren't paying attention and went through. Couldn't find a way around or through the storms."

That put his mind a bit at ease. Though there were unspeakable horrors hiding within the high-rad zones, that also kept the Capital Wasteland relatively safe from outside invasion. Still..

Again, the Raider screamed out as the knife in his right shoulder was twisted, making a sickening crunching sound as the bones and cartilage was undoubtedly irreparably damaged.

"Why did the Brotherhood move into Detroit?"

"I don't know! Nobody told us shit! Those fucks were just killing everyone who refused to move out of the city!" He cried, barely able to speak coherently through the pain. But he had to. One of the others had been the first to be interrogated and the second he couldn't speak properly, he had a knife shoved through the side of his skull.

That lined up with what he knew of the Brotherhood at large. Lyon's group, and even the Outcasts were anomalies. Passive or active goodwill wasn't their Modus Operandi. On some level they weren't entirely dissimilar from the Enclave, priorities notwithstanding. If the Midwestern Brotherhood was moving in on Detroit, there must be something there they want, and it has something to do with technology in some fashion. An untapped Vault or bunker, perhaps? Something else?

"Hey, I told you what you wanted to know, right? You'll let me go now, right?!" The Raider begged.

"Wrong." Came the reply, accompanied by a second knife pushing into the Raider's heart in an intentionally slow, malicious manner. The victims of Raiders begged for their lives, for mercy, all the time. Yet mercy never came. That's why he never showed any mercy to Raiders.

The Wanderer stood from his crouched position, withdrawing his knives and wiping the blood off of them on the clothes of the newly deceased Raider. All around him were the bodies of nearly two dozen other Raiders. Shot, stabbed, impaled, decapitated. Their cause of death was all the same: Him. From the moment he saw them he could tell they weren't locals. Their armor and weaponry didn't match up, nor their accents.

They also didn't seem to know who he was. The vast majority of Raiders in the Capital Wasteland knew full well who he was by now. That spoke volumes of how little traffic there was between there and Detroit. The most he knew about the place was that, much like The Pitt, it was a Raider-controlled city and that the history books said was one of the most technologically advanced cities in the world, which was likely behind why the Midwestern Brotherhood was moving in on the place. They must have found something.

He'd have to get a message to the people he'd left in charge of The Pitt to tighten their security. If a group this large had gotten past them, it could be assumed that others could as well. The last thing he wanted was for Raiders fleeing Detroit to funnel into the Capital Wasteland.

The Wanderer turned around and began his trek back to Big Town. He didn't want to waste any more time. Especially when he didn't know how much was left before the next major conflict. Knowing that the route was clear, he indulged himself a little and turned on his Pip-Boy radio.

"Oh yeah I'm the type of guy that likes to roam around

I'm never in one place, I roam from town to town

And when I find myself a-fallin' for some girl

Yeah, I hope right into that car of mine and drive around the world

Yeah, I'm the wanderer

Yeah, the wanderer

I roam around, around, around..."