[color=00aeef][b]The Institute - Directorate Board Room[/b][/color]

The doors to the Directorate’s chambers slid shut behind him as Thomas entered the room. The assembled members of the Directorate: Dr. Li, Dr. Clayton Holdren, Dr. Alana Secord, and Dr. Allie Fillmore all stood when he entered, giving him a congratulatory applause,

“Well done sir. I admit I had my doubts it would be possible, but I should know by now to never doubt the ingenuity of our scientists or our Director.”

Thomas deflected the rather unsubtle attempt at brownnosing from Dr. Holdren with a dismissive wave of his hand,

“I take no credit for myself. Dr. Li’s team are the ones who need to be commended. Without their hard work, the proposed upgrades to the Molecular Relay would never had been possible.”

Li gave an affirmative nod, not at all adverse to taking the lion’s share of the credit. Although even still the Director’s praise rang hollow. In her mind this was her own personal success, not a collective team effort. 

As the Directorate took their seats, Allie Fillmore posed the first question to the returning Director, “I take it the negotiations with Robert House were a success then?” 

“They were,” Thomas nodded as a Gen-1 Synth poured him a tall glass of water. He managed only a sip before continuing, “We discussed a great deal of things concerning this new wider world we find ourselves thrust into. Many of which were quite eye-opening to me. Furthermore I can continue to count on his friendship in the coming months.”

“So you intend to initialize Phase 4 then Director?”

Li asked the question with an ever present hint of cynicism and sarcasm to her voice that had increasingly become known as the hallmark of her tenure as Division Head of Advanced Systems . Yet despite her obvious discomfort for the plan, she kept her protestations nowadays to these impertent quips. Her personal ‘understanding’ with the Director not-with-standing, she knew there was little she could do to change the course now.

“I do,” Thomas replied with a polite smile, “Provided this meeting’s final reports return favorable results, we will begin executing the first crucial steps of Phase 4 at the scheduled time tomorrow. To that end ...Alana, please begin by briefing us on SRB’s status.”

“Certainly. Courser units having been deployed to the locations of highest strategic importance and are waiting activation. The rest of the units are currently fully outfitted and on standby. SRB has deployed record numbers of Watchers to monitor the situation as it develops. I will be personally briefing you on status throughout the duration of the operation, sir.”

“Excellent Alana thank you, Allie?” 

“The 85% of the facilities seized in our previous operations are currently functional with an average production capacity well over predicted estimations. The remaining 15% are expected to be operational within the next one to three weeks sir. Production within The Institute itself remains high.”

“Very good, Clayton?”

“Bioscience has fulfilled the order for requisitioned supplies exactly to your specifications sir, with more currently on the way. Thanks to the new seeds created as a result of the Warwick Initiative, we’ve nearly doubled our output in the last two months. ”

“Good, and the other items that your specialist team was working on, can we expect it to be deliverable soon?”

“Indeed sir. The first batch has been prepared and is ready for trials.”

“Well done Clayton. Bioscience is to be commended for their efforts as well. Finally, Dr. Li, what is Advanced Systems status?”

“Green and at optimal capacity. As always. Power efficiency at the reactor has tripled thanks to my efforts, and the safety test was a resounding success. You may proceed.”

“Thank you, and as for myself, I’ve spent the last few hours going over the current status of Robotics with Dr. Binet. The Gen-3 Synth production rate has been brought back up to previous levels, and with the successful release of the latest patch to the Gen3OS, we’ve completed updates to the line ahead of schedule. In keeping with my previous report, we no longer believe that any credible threat to the Gen-3 line remains, however, with the patch’s safeguards in place, I can assure you that our Synths have never been safer. I will provide a full report on the details of the changes to the Gen3OS when time permits.”

The rest of the Directorate gave understanding nods of approval at this news, while Li remained stoic and unimpressed. The Director was hiding something, she knew it. Hell she’d known his son, Shaun, long enough to realize that apple could not have fallen far from the tree..yet she would keep her peace. She had been given what she wanted...she had James back. That’s all that mattered right now. 

“Now then, since all divisions report green status and preparations have been completed, I’m authorizing the initialization of Phase 4. As scheduled, the operation will begin at 0500. Expect the first status report to be sent within the first hour. With that, any final business to discuss?”

“One final matter sir,” Alana Secord spoke up, “Regarding Mr. Desmond Lockheart. I hesitant to report this, as it may be nothing, but he is late with his usual report. We’ve heard nothing from him since he left the Pennsylvania Commonwealth.”

“Not unexpected. He’s entered into dangerous territory. I wouldn’t be surprised if Desmond has judged in too risky to attempt to send a report and is preferring to lay low for the moment until he has a better handle on the territory. We’ll hold off on sending an extraction team for the moment. The smart man doesn’t bet against Desmond Lockheart when it comes to survival…”

“Understood sir, I assumed as much.”

“Thank you for the update in any case Alana. Now then if that’s all there is...meeting adjourned.”


[color=ed1c24][b]The Land of The Monolith - Desmond Lockheart’s Journey[/b][/color]


Desmond’s head was killing him. He felt like he had been in a fog ever since he crossed the border into the Dead Lands of the Monolith: The Cult’s home territory. Crossing the border hadn't been easy, and he’d nearly been shot by FCPA soldiers with itchy trigger fingers, who’d assumed he was some sort of Cult agent. 

Of course, once he’d actually made it across, the Cult’s land offered little in the way of safety itself. Something was wrong here. It was like a blight or a sickness had spread across the land. The air was deathly still, and he couldn’t even remember having seen anyone in the last couple days. The few who’d he caught glimpses of on the road or in the fields were loathsome creatures, malign of aspect and bearing the hallmark signs of degeneracy and mutation. Dressed in his rags, and a ghoul besides, Desmond hoped he wouldn’t draw any unnecessary attention. Still he knew better than to try his luck. He’d seen a group of  slave catchers on the road awhile back, and kept out of sight when they passed by on the road: chained and collared wretches in tow. He didn’t fancy his chances to talk or shoot his way out of a confrontation with them. 

As he traveled deeper through the Cult’s land, the signs of destruction and foul worship became more apparent. Grim reminders of what had transpired here in the past few years and what horrors the people of this land had endured under their new masters were everywhere. Piles of skulls and bloody fetishes littered the landscape along makeshift shrines dedicated to the Dark God that now held sway over all. Military outposts of the Cult became more and more common the closer he came to The Pitt, and he gave each of them a wide berth, even if it meant leaving the main road for awhile. Still, he knew it would be impossible to avoid interacting with the Cult’s mad followers forever. And sooner or later, he’d be in the heart of it all anyway: The Pitt. He’d given up at this point trying to contact The Institute, he could hardly get a signal out with the atmospheric interference and radiation, and he began to fear that The Cult might have some method of detecting such communication attempts. He’d heard...stories from travelers and soldiers in the Free Commonwealth about the terrible powers of The Monolith and the people who dwelt within its lands. And he knew enough to understand that the stories may very well have some basis in truth. 

More than once he’d considered turning back. Abandoning his mission and getting the hell out of here. Perhaps fleeing somewhere south or even heading to the West Coast. But Thomas’s promises kept floating around in his mind, and it kept him going. Then there was something else ...something that had compelled him forward ever since he’d crossed the border. He couldn’t explain it, but he felt a pull. Like a whirlpool, it felt like it was drawing him in and he was circling around it: coming ever closer with each turn. 

He clutched his rags and took a deep breath, the taste of ash and smoke met his tongue. His head still pained him, and somehow, somewhere, he thought he could hear someone speaking to him. Yet he could no longer tell what was in his mind, and what might be coming from the hellscape around him.  Perhaps that distinction no longer mattered. 


[color=00aeef][b]Boston - Diamond City, 5:30am. [/b][/color]

“Holy shit here they come!”

The horrifying realization of what was heading their way struck Diamond Cities finest like a lead pipe. The guards outside The Wall took up their usual positions behind the rusted hulks of cars, makeshift barricades, and whatever else would serve as serviceable defenses as they nervously clutched pipe-weapons and chain-wrapped swatters in their hands. They knew full well they were hopelessly outgunned, and hadn’t a chance in hell of lasting longer than a few seconds: but it was a testament to their bravery that they steadfastly refused to retreat even in the face of such impossible odds. It was clear that The Wall was hardly the only bulwark that protected Diamond City’s people. 

The reason for their panicked state was quite obvious. Coming across The Charles River bridge was a truly terrifying sight. Rows upon rows of wide-uniformed clad Institute Synths marching towards them in a column that seemed endless. Between sections of the column, brightly painted red and white APCs were clearly visible, adding an armored weight to the military forces arrayed against them. Moreover they could hear a loud humming noise coming from above them as well in the nighttime darkness beyond. It reminded them of when the Brotherhood’s vertibirds could be seen overhead during the war with The Institute, yet the sound was altogether unknown: a fact which added to their rapidly escalating fear. 

“What the hell are we going to do?” One of the Security Guards shouted out, his voice tinged with terror.

“Tell the people to evacuate. Flee into the ruins of Boston. It's dangerous but that’s the only chance they have. We’ll hold em’ as long as we can!” It was a bad plan, but the only one that made sense at the moment. At least the people could scatter and hopefully some would avoid The Institute long enough to make it out into the wastes. 

Suddenly the crackling of walkie-talkie was heard and one of the senior security officers held it to his ear, 

“What?!” He nearly yelled the response back into the old pre-war device, “What do you mean stand down?? Oh for Christ's sake...”

The officer waved to the rest of his men, “Put down your guns. Orders from the Mayor’s office. Don’t shoot! Repeat don’t shoot! Let them pass. Mayor McDonough says they are no threat.”

There was a single moment of stunned silence, and several confused glances between the security officers before the senior repeated his order, “I SAID DROP THEM!”

A loud clattering of metal against asphalt followed as the officers obeyed the order and dropped their guns. They stood motionless, completely unarmed as the column continued to draw closer. Finally, the head of the column arrived, and a single black-coated Courser approached their unit. 

“Do not be alarmed,” The Courser began, “The Institute has no intention of destroying your city. The Courser then turned and gave a nod towards a group of Synths, who began hauling up  several crates which they deposited in front of the guards. The Courser proceed to kick one of them open to reveal a large amount of what looked to be purified water and many small neatly packed boxes within. 

“Provisions and medical supplies. We will begin distributing them to the people within your walls. Your Mayor has been informed of our intent and has asked Diamond City security to assist in the relief efforts.”

“And what about them? Where are they going?” One of the security officers pointed to the still advancing column, which instead of stopping at the gate’s of the city, had turned and continued on down the street.

“Further into the Boston city ruins,” The Courser replied briskly, “We are commencing the start of Phase 4. Boston and The Commonwealth of Massachusetts is now under the direct protection of The Institute. Our Father is now yours as well...you may rejoice.”