I’ve walked the scorched wastelands for what feels like an eternity, although it’s only been 200 years.
Settlements have risen and fallen, vaults have sprung open
and survivors have walked in and out of my life. I’ve helped build towns, I’ve
saved lives, I’ve watched people try to save others, I’ve intervened, I’ve
stayed on the side, always wondering why I was given this gift/curse (I can
never decide which it is).
Mutations are commonplace in the wastelands. Super Mutants,
Ghouls, Rad Roaches, all results of radiation’s effect on living cells. Me, I
was blessed with rapid cell regeneration, rendering me effectively immortal.
At first, I used this gift for the task of rebuilding the
world, but I received no thanks worthy of my time. I’m an immortal, a God among
the normality of human life cycle.
So what do I do now? I follow people. Having stumbled on an
ancient cache of stealth boys I decided to follow those I deemed worthy of my
time and act as an agent of chance, appearing at random to tip the balances in
their favour.
It is my choice whether to act or not. It is my choice to
let them live or die. I am truly their superior being and...well, well, well, what have we here?
A traveller has just walked straight out of the Lucky 38, past the Securitrons. Is he an agent of House? An interloper? The next big player?
Either way, I've found my next project. Will I save you, or let you prove yourself...it's too early to decide.
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