《Fallout Fanfiction (LitRPG)》Truth or Lies?

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uEef3zzw1Aw

Note to Readers: For those unfamiliar with Fallout Tactics, you can watch the link above for the Quincy Mission.

Drawn back into memories of the lilting tunes that would play on the radio, you wanted to stay here, and enjoy this moment. But as always common sense and logic told you that you needed to learn more about this place.

With that thought uppermost in mind, you left Loraq and Tessa to their meals, and went to go find their chaperone Gyforn. The stern-faced man that stood waiting for them outside in the hallway, speaking with a teenage girl in a light green sweater that had an armband wrapped around her left shoulder with a star and gun.

With tall dusky skin, dark eyes, and long luxurious black hair, she let out a huff of annoyance, "...but why, father? I want to go up to the surface? You know I can take care of myself? I’ve done all your stupid tests!"

Head shaking from side to side in frustration, Gyforn snapped back, "I said no, Isabel, you're too young to go out there on your own. You don't know what it's like, the bloodshed, death, and monsters that hunt you at every turn. If only you knew the half of it, you wouldn’t be so eager to go out there."

“Well, then tell me!”

“I said, no! You are almost as stubborn as your father.”

Lips pursed together doggedly with hands on her hips, she looked about ready to argue with him further, when she saw you out of the corner of her eyes, and smiled. "What about the newcomers? They can come and go from the surface. And that one looks as young as me."

Releasing a heavy sigh as Gyforn turned his dark scowl upon you, the man replied stiffly, "That's different, and you very well know it, young lady, now don't you have a class to get to?"

Dark brown eyes glinting dangerously, you thought for a moment that the girl would continue, when she stamped her foot angrily, grabbed a hold of your arm, and dragged you away. "Fine, I'll just speak to this outsider shall I? Maybe then I can learn something!"

Swept down a hallway without a word of warning, you only had a moment to look back over your shoulder to an infuriated Gyforn, and wondered how you had been caught up in this mess? When she spoke again. This time in a much softer tone. "Sorry about that, it's just my father gets me so angry sometimes. Not that he is my real father. Gyforn says my real father died out in the wasteland, but he won't tell me anything about it, he just says it was an unfortunate accident. I just wish he would start treating me like an adult and not a spoiled little child, I'm not a baby anymore!"

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Releasing another sharp intake of breath, she seemed to realize that she was venting to a stranger when she blushed furiously, and grinned up at you. “I’m Isabella, I’m a ranger with the First Squadron.”

Unable to help but smile back at her, you replied back, “my friends call me, rookie. Some raiders do too.”

Lips curled into a quizzical smile at that, she waved her arms up in the air. “I guess I should say, welcome then, welcome to Freedom Station, rookie, my home for the last twenty years,” she finished with a bitter laugh, before she turned back to you, “So what brings you here?”

Head nodded back in the direction of your friends, you replied, “I’m on a sort of quest that’s secret, but I was hoping to listen to one of these lectures, and learn more about this world.”

Mouth dimpled into a cheeky grin, she suddenly winked at you, grabbed hold of your arm, and guided you down an empty side corridor, up through a series of staircases as she whispered, “we don’t normally allow outsiders to observe our lessons, but in the antechamber above the lecture hall is a viewing room where we can sneak a peek. Father, uses it mostly to snoop on misbehaving students that aren't doing their work.”

Grinning back at her excitement, you quickly followed her up the stone stairs, and into a large round chamber with a huge glass panel in the floor panel that overlooked one of the lecture halls. The sound of the teacher’s voice is clearly audible from the intercom on the wall.

A portly man of perhaps sixty years, he had a neatly trimmed beard, military fatigues that bulged at his weight, and was surrounded by dozens of children around your age. The lecture hall, a series of rows formed into crescent moons with the teacher at the center of it all.

Eagerly leaning down to get a better look at the projector’s screen that lay behind him, you listened to his soothing voice as the huge figure of a human male materialized wearing animal skins, his skin disfigured and scarred as the lecturer spoke up, “now as you many of you familiar with, this is our most hated and feared enemies the beastlords. From what intelligence we have gathered in the field as well as stories spread by word of mouth, the beastlords' possess an inherent telepathic ability that is unique to their kind. An ability that they acquired through prolonged exposure to an unknown radiation present within some subterranean caves. These abominations of humanity are able to control cockcroaches, wasps, komodo dragons, brahmin, dogs, wolves, rats, radscorpions, and now wildmen. Can anyone in this room tell me how that is even possible? How are they able to control these wildmen?”

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As a hand flew up from the class, you watched as a small boy stood up, his voice a nasally squeak, “It’s because of their impaired mental faculties, sir.”

“Correct, young man, wildmen being more beast than man, are more susceptible to the beastlords telepathic suggestions, and therefore are a highly valuable resource that the Matriarch utilizes in her delicate operations. Now, while the beastlords are not able to fully control the deathclaws due to their intellect and volatility, there are stories that tell of time when they had once forced them into servitude by holding a mother deathclaw hostage. And while I’m not suggesting such an act is even possible or credible, it does serve as a reminder of the cunning and guile of these people. They are never to be trusted or believed. Or I dare say you too might suffer the same fate.”

Screen flickering to a map of the MidWestern United States, two black markers appear beside Quincy and Mardin. “Now, continuing on with our lessons on the beastlords, can anyone tell me what happened to them in 2197?”

As another hand flew up, this time from a girl, she said, “Sir, the Brotherhood of Steel.”

“Aaah yes, another group, you should all be wary of. The Brotherhood of Steel, men and women dedicated to guarding and salvaging prewar technology. In the year 2197, these so-called brave men and women of the Brotherhood invaded the poor town of Quincy and ignited a war with the beastlords. A war that cost the lives of many ghouls and innocent bystanders alike in their constant pursuit of technology. After seizing the town of Quincy in a bloody battle and threatening the Mayor with violence, the Brotherhood then took it upon itself to launch an assault against the beastlords' home of Mardin, ending hundreds more lives in their vengeful pursuit for technology. And once when they were done conquering that region, we were left with Red, a monster far worse than Daar.”

Hands clapped together to shut off the screen, he finished, “That concludes our lesson for today, and what is our motto?”

Standing up together as they spoke together in unison, “In honor, we bleed, In freedom, we live, and in death, we give sacrifice.”

“And don't you forget it, those monsters outside never will. Enjoy the rest of the day, children.”

Breathless and speechless at the lies being taught to these young children, you wanted to scream aloud that they were wrong! The Brotherhood of Steel had been requested to come to their aid and help rescue the Mayor. That they had to stop the expansion of the beastlords. But the lies kept ringing round and round in your head. It also made you question why a group like the Brotherhood would help the town in the first place? It seemed so strange that these tech-hungry warriors would pause to help anyone, and yet you had played the game, and at the time their deeds had indeed seemed noble, if not a bit iffy. Which begged the question of why they would lie?

Mind still racing with possibilities, you turned away angrily, and grunted, “Let’s go.”

Isabella, who had witnessed your sudden change in mood, nodding her head as they left the lecture hall behind.

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