Shaken and with heavy hearts, the group leaves the vault behind. Your home, your lives, everything you know is behind you... Just outside the entrance you spot your sister vault's door across the way, still sealed. In large, yellow letters you see
58B etched into the imposing door. It was heavily scratched, but otherwise in good shape. Did they even know what had happened? Perhaps they were going along with their lives, blissfully unaware of the horrors that lie next door.
The thought might cross most of your minds.
They'll let us in, all we have to do is bang on the door. Scream, plead, call for help. But no. No one on the other side would hear you. Even if they did, would they let you in?
With that slight repose behind you, the group moves towards the real exit, the door to this dank cave. Light seeps in through the cracks of the aged, wooden door. Real light, sunlight. Eventually one of you gets the courage to open this door to reveal the
real world...
What lies beyond is either far better, far worse, or just as you expected. After your eyes adjust to the bright, natural light, the scenery embeds itself into your minds. A wasteland. You stand atop a hillside adjacent to the rocky outcropping that hid the cave you just left behind. Before you lies a forest. Or, what constitutes as a forest in this world. Desiccated skeletons that might have once been called trees dot the landscape. Above the treeline to the west you see a trail of smoke... And the sky.
The sky! Above you... so high above you... you can see murky, brown clouds masking that ball of light you've only dreamed about. The enormity of this world surpasses what any of you are used to, having lived your whole lives in an enclosed space.
A path has been cleaved violently into the forest, leading away from the cave door, and into the depths of the dead forest. And beside it, a reminder of the horrors you have recently witnessed. A charred body crucified on an inverted, makeshift cross. The poor soul in burned beyond recognition, but most of you probably have an idea of who it is...
The cold neutrality Janice felt just minutes ago melts away when she is faced with the outside world. When faced with the sky. She backs up into the doorway and holds onto the sides of the frame. "Oh my God... Shit, shit!" she whispers, shaking.
Daniels isn't as startled. He keeps his pistol up and ready, looking around for any sign of hostiles.
Each one of your pipboys starts whining momentarily, in a fashion Rachelle finds familiar. Daniels wastes no time, adjusting his pipboy to the newly detected radio station.
A song the group isn't familiar with starts playing...After a few minutes, the song ends and somebody begins to speak.
"Citizens of the 313, I have some somber news for you today," a man's voice begins.
"Bermuda Black, the Hero of the Wastes, the Protector of the Weak, the Paradigm... is dead. I wish it weren't true, oh, I wish it weren't true! But yes, Bermuda is dead. The man who killed Big Pete, who broke the Slavers Chain, who saved Grainston, was killed yesterday by a pack of mercenaries. The True Brothers claim responsibility for the act, and the Brotherhood of Steel confirms it. Paladin Mays was the one to call the hit, and the bastards actually did it.
"So... Congratulations Brotherhood, you've killed a hero. You fuckers.
"The wasteland became a bit more evil today, folks. But never lose hope. Another will rise to fight the Brotherhood, and the slavers, and the cultists. Don't give up, my fellow 'landers.
"We'll be continuing our broadcast of blues for the rest of the day. We mourn today, my friends, but tomorrow we rise up taller than before. Peace."A new song starts playing to match the tone of the news.
"Did you hear that?! A radio station, an actual radio station! There's civilization out there. Decent people," Daniels says, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
Before anyone can respond, someone calls out to the group.
"Wait! Wait for me!" The recruit pushes past Janice and falls to the ground.
"Please... Don't leave me!" he says, looking up to the group. He couldn't be older than twenty, now that you take a good look at him. His blue eyes betray his innocence, and his shaking body betrays his fear.