Melting Steel ➼ Fallout

One

❝  How fast we fall, how slow we drown  ❞

➼  Rag'n'BoneMan

Prologue.

A wise man once said that before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves.

I never intended to dig any graves, only to find answers.

When I stumbled from that vault with ice in my veins and a fire in my lungs, I only wanted to know why. Why us? Why Shaun? Why Nate? Why me? I searched for answers, but I held a shovel in my hands without realising it. And I began to dig without feeling the dirt beneath my feet crumble. I began to dig and dig and when I had dug two graves, I kept going. A field of graves, all dug by my bleeding and scarred hands, all forged from the hate in my heart.

I never intended to dig graves but the world insisted on forcing my hands to sink into that soil and tear at the dirt until not even my tears or pain registered. I never wanted any of it.

♤

Before.

"The Institute has foolishly chosen to grant you life. You simply should not exist. I don't intend to debate this any longer. My orders stand." My body shakes as I stare at Arthur, my eyes beseeching him, begging for him to change his orders, to show the mercy I know he has within him. An uncommon thing, that mercy, he was a hardened boy and an even harder man. But there are edges within him that have been softened, I've seen it.

"It's alright," Danse says from beside me, his voice calm, collected, the complete opposite to my trembling hands and sharp breaths. A composed soldier, even now, even faced with judgment and hatred. "We did our best. You convinced me that I was wrong to be ashamed of my true identity and I thank you for it. Whatever you decide, know that I'm going to my grave with no anger and no regrets."

"Touching," Arthur sneers, the man I have come to know and care about completely gone from his voice. I sink my teeth into my lower lip to keep the tears at bay, to keep that unwelcome heartache trapped within me. "Either you execute Danse, or I will, Knight. The choice is yours." Knight. I no longer want that title. I wish I had never joined the Brotherhood, wish I had never fallen in love with their Elder or become close friends with a Paladin, wish I could go back and change so many things.

But the Institute, my enemy, the director my son, and Danse, created by them, something that shouldn't exist, that threatens humanity. It's all a blur as my hands grip the revolver tighter and there's a moment where my decision looms ahead of me. Aim that gun at Arthur or at Danse. A strange path, a terrifying path. More foreboding than the twisting, cracked roads of the wastes.

"For the good of the Brotherhood," I whisper, my voice pathetically weak, "he needs to die." The words hang in the air like a noose and I see sadness but understanding in Danse's deep brown eyes. I despise the forgiveness that shines in them, despise myself for the finger that twitches on the trigger.

"Finally, you've come to your senses," Arthur scoffs, his blue eyes cold. It makes me question whether the moments that we shared together were ever truly real, whether he ever cared about me or about his friendship with Danse.

But I turned my back on him, I couldn't handle his choices and now I just want it all to be over.

"You may proceed, Knight."

With a heavy heart, I raise the gun level with Danse and meet his eyes. They're reassuring, strong. He's always pushed me to be a better person, even when I was struggling with the darkness that consumed me.

Who gives a fuck anymore? I've abandoned my son, left my dead husband behind, walked away from my love for Arthur and now I'm going to execute one of the few friends I have.

I pull the trigger and I barely hear the shot as his head whips back and he crumbles to the ground. I stare at him in utter shock at my own irreversible actions.

He's motionless. Like a heart never thudded in his chest, like his voice never called out to me when I ran headstrong into danger, on a reckless path.

"You did the right thing, Knight," Arthur spits the title and I turn to him, numb to the core. I don't see him, I don't see the man I love despite it all, I see a man driven by his power. And for the first time since I met the man, I don't see his strength or his resilience, I don't see respect and care for his soldiers, I see a man obsessed with hate and despair. Much like what I have tried for months to wrangle myself from.

"Go fuck yourself," I wheeze, turning my back on him and stumbling over a rock. I don't look back, even as he calls my name. No, not my name, my damned title, something he rarely used before now. I run, my lungs screaming at me, my soul crying in pain and I leave it behind, leave it all behind because the life of a soldier and the life of a pre-war housewife were never meant to collide.