If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my P-Tang12!!!
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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
...
The fog rolled across the harbor again as the Freemasons Republic officially arrived in Far Harbor and the island, was about to change forever.
And the island was about to change forever.
For a few seconds after the convoy finished tying their boats to the docks, the harbor held a strange, tense quiet.
Not the ordinary quiet of Far Harbor.
Not the quiet of fog and waves.
This was the quiet of an entire town holding its breath.
Then the noise returned all at once.
Boots thudded against wood.
Metal clanged softly as ramps were lowered from the Defender-class boats.
Engines idled down into low mechanical rumbles.
Avery stood at the railing beside Sico and Nick, watching everything carefully.
The first power armor soldier stepped fully onto the dock.
The heavy frame hissed softly as its hydraulics adjusted to the uneven wooden planks. The armor itself was taller than most men by nearly a head and a half, thick plates of reinforced metal covering every limb.
Its helmet turned slowly, scanning the harbor.
Behind it, another armored soldier followed.
Then another.
Six from the first boat.
Six more from the second.
Twelve towering armored figures now stood along the docks.
Their boots left deep thuds every time they moved.
Far Harbor citizens stared openly now.
A fisherman lowered a crate he had been carrying and just watched.
A pair of children peeked around a stack of lobster traps, whispering to each other in awe.
"Those things are huge…"
"Do people live inside them?"
Nick folded his arms loosely.
"Technically, yes," he muttered.
The regular infantry began disembarking next.
The three troop boats lowered their gangways and soldiers stepped onto the dock in disciplined lines.
Thirty-six of them in total.
Their armor was lighter than the power suits but still clearly military from dark composite plates, reinforced chest rigs, rifles slung across their shoulders.
Each one wore the Republic emblem.
They moved with quiet efficiency.
Not rushing.
Not wasting motion.
Just stepping onto the dock and immediately forming into organized groups.
Avery noticed it right away.
They weren't looking around nervously like mercenaries arriving in a strange port.
They weren't showing off.
They simply did their jobs.
Crates began moving next.
The two supply boats lowered their cargo ramps and soldiers started unloading the shipments.
Large wooden containers stamped with shipping marks.
Metal ammunition cases.
Fuel drums.
Medical supply crates.
Tools.
Construction equipment.
Food shipments sealed in protective containers.
Nick watched as two soldiers lifted a crate marked DRIED RATIONS – 200 PACKS and carried it easily toward the harbor street.
"Well," he muttered quietly.
"That's going to make the winter a lot less miserable."
Avery didn't answer.
She was still watching the town's reaction.
Some people looked impressed.
Some curious.
Some nervous.
A few looked openly suspicious.
Far Harbor had been burned before by outsiders.
That kind of memory didn't disappear easily.
The soldiers worked quickly.
Within minutes a steady line had formed between the supply boats and the old fisherman's house, the building Sico had been using since arriving in town.
The headquarters.
Crates moved along the dock in organized rotations.
Two soldiers carried each container.
Power armor units assisted with the heavier shipments.
One armored operator lifted an entire fuel drum crate by himself and walked it across the dock like it weighed nothing.
Nick tilted his head.
"Yep."
"Walking tanks."
Avery exhaled slowly.
"Your men work fast."
Sico nodded slightly.
"Efficiency reduces confusion."
The headquarters building wasn't far from the harbor wall.
Just a short walk along the wooden street.
Within minutes the first stacks of supplies were already being carried inside.
A few Far Harbor dockworkers stepped aside as the soldiers passed.
One older man leaned toward Nick quietly.
"Where in the hell did you find these people?"
Nick gave a faint smile.
"Long story."
The harbor grew louder as the unloading continued.
Crates thudded.
Orders were spoken in calm, professional tones.
Metal armor clanked softly.
The entire process looked less like an invasion and more like a military logistics drill.
Still not everyone was comfortable with it.
Across the harbor street, a man pushed through the growing crowd.
Broad-shouldered.
Weathered face.
Thick beard.
Heavy coat worn from years of sea wind.
Allen Lee.
Nick noticed him immediately.
"Uh oh," he murmured.
Avery followed his gaze.
Her shoulders tightened slightly.
Allen Lee was already marching toward them.
Fast.
Not smiling.
Not impressed.
Just angry.
Several townsfolk quietly stepped aside as he approached.
Allen stopped a few feet away from Avery, glaring past her toward the docks where Republic soldiers continued unloading supplies.
His voice came out sharp.
"What the hell is this?"
Avery didn't react immediately.
"Good morning to you too, Allen."
"That's not what I asked," he snapped.
He gestured sharply toward the boats.
"You said a few mainlanders were coming."
A power armor soldier stomped past behind him carrying a heavy crate.
Allen pointed at it.
"Those aren't a few!"
Avery crossed her arms.
"They're here to help."
Allen barked a humorless laugh.
"Help?"
He turned toward the harbor again, watching another line of soldiers march past carrying supply crates.
"Looks more like an army moving in."
Nick shifted slightly beside the railing.
Allen finally noticed him.
His eyes narrowed.
"You."
Nick tipped his hat politely.
"Morning."
Allen looked back at Avery.
"You let these people walk into town two days ago."
"And now they bring this?"
He gestured again toward the seven Defender-class boats tied to the docks.
"You think I haven't seen mainland groups before?"
His voice grew louder now.
A few nearby townsfolk stopped to listen.
"We've had traders come through."
"We've had mercenaries."
"We've had Brotherhood patrols."
"And every time someone from the mainland shows up they say the same damn thing."
Avery's voice stayed calm.
"They're not the same."
Allen pointed at Sico.
"You're telling me that stranger walks in off the road…"
"…says he's a president…"
"…and suddenly you trust him?"
Nick spoke quietly.
"He's telling the truth."
Allen ignored him.
His eyes stayed locked on Avery.
"And now you're letting more of them come here?"
"Armed?"
"With power armor?"
Avery stepped forward slightly.
"Yes."
Allen stared at her in disbelief.
"You lost your mind?"
The harbor had grown noticeably quieter again.
Soldiers continued working.
But the argument had drawn attention.
Nick sighed softly.
"Here we go."
Avery didn't raise her voice.
But her tone became firm.
"Allen."
"These people brought supplies."
"They helped defend the wall."
"And they've offered protection."
Allen snorted.
"Protection?"
"From what?"
Avery's eyes hardened.
"You know exactly what."
Allen hesitated.
Just slightly.
But the anger returned quickly.
"That's not the point."
He pointed again at the Republic troops.
"You think bringing an army here is the answer?"
"Because last time outsiders tried to 'protect' something around here…"
"…it didn't go well."
Nick rubbed the back of his neck.
That was a polite way of referring to a lot of bad history.
Allen turned suddenly toward Sico.
"You."
The soldiers nearby didn't react.
But a few subtly adjusted their posture.
Watching.
Sico remained completely calm.
Allen stepped closer.
"You're the one running this circus?"
"Yes."
Allen studied him carefully.
"So you're the 'president' I keep hearing about."
"Yes."
Allen folded his arms.
"And you think you can just sail into Far Harbor with seventy soldiers and set up shop?"
Nick coughed quietly.
"Technically seventy-two."
Allen shot him a glare.
Nick raised his hands.
"Just keeping the numbers accurate."
Allen ignored him again and looked back at Sico.
"Well?"
Sico answered calmly.
"I did not come here to take your town."
Allen snorted.
"That's what they all say."
"You misunderstand."
Allen leaned forward slightly.
"No."
"I think I understand just fine."
He gestured toward the harbor again.
"You've got power armor."
"You've got soldiers."
"You've got supplies."
"That's not trade."
"That's occupation."
The word hung heavily in the air.
Several townsfolk exchanged uneasy looks.
Avery stepped between them slightly.
"That's not what's happening."
Allen turned sharply toward her.
"Then explain it."
She met his gaze directly.
"I already told you."
"They're here to help."
Allen shook his head.
"You're gambling with this town."
"And you're gambling with people's lives."
His voice dropped slightly.
"We survived out here because we don't trust easy promises."
Avery didn't look away.
"And we also survived because we take opportunities when they come."
Allen pointed toward the soldiers again.
"Opportunity?"
"That's a military convoy."
"Yes."
"And they're on our side."
Allen laughed harshly.
"You're sure about that?"
The harbor wind blew across the docks, rattling a loose metal sign against one of the buildings.
Nick watched the two of them carefully.
This wasn't just an argument.
It was two different visions of survival.
Allen had spent years believing the only way to survive the island was isolation.
Avery had spent years trying to keep the town alive by making careful deals.
Now those two approaches were colliding.
Finally Sico spoke again.
His voice remained calm.
"You are Allen Lee."
Allen blinked slightly.
"…Yeah."
"I was told you help defend this town."
Allen hesitated.
"…I do."
Sico nodded once.
"Then we have the same goal."
Allen scoffed.
"I doubt that."
"Our goal is survival."
Allen shook his head again.
"You don't understand this island."
"That is correct."
Allen paused.
He hadn't expected that answer.
Sico continued.
"That is why we are here to learn."
Nick smiled faintly.
Allen frowned.
"You think you can just walk into the fog and 'learn'?"
"No."
"But we can help fight those who threaten Far Harbor."
Allen's expression darkened slightly.
"The Children of Atom."
"Yes."
Allen's jaw tightened.
The name alone carried years of frustration.
He looked back at Avery.
"You're really considering this?"
She didn't hesitate.
"Yes."
Allen stared at her for several seconds.
Then he looked again toward the harbor.
Toward the power armor soldiers unloading supplies.
Toward the crates being carried into the headquarters building.
Toward the Republic flag painted on the side of the Defender boats.
Finally he spoke again.
"This better not blow up in our faces."
Avery's voice softened slightly.
"I know the risks."
Allen looked at Sico one more time.
Then he turned and walked back toward the harbor street.
Not satisfied.
But no longer shouting.
Nick exhaled slowly.
"Well."
"That could've gone worse."
Avery rubbed her temple briefly.
"That's just the beginning."
Nick chuckled.
"Town politics?"
"Always fun."
Across the harbor, Republic soldiers continued unloading crates.
The headquarters building was already filling with supplies.
Power armor units stood like silent guardians near the docks.
For a moment the scene settled into something almost surreal.
Seven military boats tied neatly along Far Harbor's rough wooden docks.
Stacks of supply crates moving steadily toward the old fisherman's house.
Thirty-six disciplined infantry working in quiet coordination.
Twelve towering figures of power armor standing watch like statues carved from steel.
And an entire harbor town trying to decide whether this was salvation or the beginning of another disaster.
The wind shifted slightly, pushing a fresh wave of gray fog between the buildings. It drifted slowly across the harbor street, curling around the boots of soldiers and fishermen alike.
Nick watched the soldiers working for a few seconds longer before finally speaking.
"Well," he said quietly, "you definitely made an entrance."
Sico's eyes remained on the docks.
"That was not the intention."
Nick chuckled.
"Doesn't matter. When seventy-two soldiers show up in power armor, people notice."
Nearby, a group of Far Harbor dockworkers stood whispering while watching one of the armored operators carry a massive crate into the headquarters building.
Avery folded her arms again.
Her eyes followed the movement of the soldiers.
"You'll need somewhere to station them."
"Yes," Sico replied calmly.
Nick tilted his head.
"Yeah, the town's not exactly built for barracks."
Sico looked toward the row of weather-beaten buildings along the harbor street.
Several of them were old warehouses.
Half-abandoned.
Some barely used except for seasonal fishing storage.
"They will use available structures," he said.
Avery nodded slowly.
"That can be arranged."
She gestured toward the upper end of the harbor street.
"There are two empty storage houses near the wall. They've been unused since the last storm wrecked the docks a few years ago."
Nick scratched his chin.
"Better than tents."
Sico nodded once.
"That will be sufficient."
A nearby officer approached, saluting briefly.
"Mr. President."
Sico turned slightly toward him.
"Report."
"First cargo transfer is nearly complete. Supply teams are preparing secondary unloading."
"Good."
The officer hesitated briefly before continuing.
"What are your orders for deployment, sir?"
Nick leaned against the railing again.
"Ah."
"Command decisions."
Sico looked across the harbor.
At the town.
At the fog creeping slowly between the buildings.
At the wall beyond the docks.
Then he spoke clearly.
"All infantry units remain in Far Harbor."
The officer nodded.
"Yes, sir."
"Establish defensive patrols along the wall and town perimeter."
"Understood."
"Coordinate with the local militia."
Nick raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Allen's going to love that."
Sico continued.
"Power armor units will remain stationed here as well."
The officer paused slightly.
"All units, sir?"
"For now."
"Yes, sir."
Sico looked back toward the docks where the last supply crates were being unloaded.
"Your primary task is to guard the town."
Nick glanced at him.
"Planning something?"
Sico turned slightly toward him.
"Yes."
The officer waited.
Sico finished the order.
"Far Harbor is under Republic protection."
The officer nodded firmly.
"It will be done."
He turned immediately and walked back toward the soldiers, already issuing instructions.
Nick watched the movement of troops as they began reorganizing.
Small patrol groups forming.
Power armor operators moving to defensive positions near the harbor entrance.
Supply teams finishing their unloading tasks.
"Well," Nick said quietly, "looks like the town just got its first real garrison."
Avery exhaled slowly.
"You move fast."
"Speed reduces risk," Sico replied.
Nick glanced sideways at him.
"Alright."
"So what's next?"
Sico's answer came without hesitation.
"We keep our promise."
Nick tilted his head.
"To who?"
Sico looked toward the harbor street.
"The old hunter."
Nick blinked once.
Then he smiled faintly.
"Oh."
"Right."
"Old Longfellow."
Avery looked between them.
"You're going to see him?"
"Yes."
She frowned slightly.
"You're heading into the island?"
Nick tipped his hat slightly.
"Someone's gotta."
Avery glanced toward the fog beyond the town.
The island interior.
Dense forest.
Broken roads.
Creatures lurking in the mist.
And somewhere out there, Arcadia.
The synth refuge.
And Kasumi Nakano.
She sighed softly.
"You're really going through with that."
Sico nodded.
"Yes."
Nick stretched his arms slightly.
"Well."
"Guess our quiet detective work just turned into a proper expedition."
Avery looked back toward the docks.
Republic soldiers were already moving through the harbor streets.
Some heading toward the wall.
Others securing buildings.
The town looked different now.
Heavier.
Safer.
More dangerous.
All at once.
She turned back to Sico.
"You're leaving all of them here?"
"Yes."
"And you're going into the fog with just a few men?"
Nick grinned faintly.
"Not exactly 'a few.'"
Sico looked toward the power armor units.
"Four operators will accompany us."
Nick gave a low whistle.
"Now that's a walking escort."
Avery shook her head slightly.
"You really don't do things halfway."
Nick chuckled.
"Nope."
The wind rattled a loose fishing sign above one of the buildings.
For a moment the harbor looked almost peaceful again.
Avery looked at Sico.
"When do you leave?"
"Now."
Nick pushed himself off the railing.
"Well then."
"Guess we shouldn't keep the old man waiting."
Avery hesitated briefly.
Then she nodded.
"Be careful out there."
Nick tipped his hat again.
"Always am."
Sico said nothing more.
He simply turned and began walking up the harbor street.
Nick followed.
Behind them, four power armor soldiers stepped forward from their positions near the dock.
Their heavy metal boots hit the wood with slow, powerful thuds.
CLANG.
CLANG.
CLANG.
Far Harbor citizens stepped aside as the small group passed.
Some watched with curiosity.
Others with unease.
The armored figures followed Sico and Nick like moving fortresses.
One child whispered to his mother as they walked past.
"Are they fighting monsters?"
The woman didn't answer.
She just watched the steel giants disappear into the foggy street.
Nick glanced over his shoulder briefly.
"Still weird having bodyguards."
Sico walked calmly beside him.
"They are soldiers."
Nick shrugged.
"Still counts."
The streets of Far Harbor were already alive with quiet morning activity.
Fishermen hauling nets.
Town guards checking the wall.
Dockworkers moving supplies.
But the presence of Republic soldiers had clearly changed the atmosphere.
Nick noticed several Far Harbor residents quietly studying the power armor operators as they passed.
"Gonna take them a while to get used to that," he muttered.
Sico didn't respond.
They continued walking.
The Last Plank stood near the center of town.
A rough wooden tavern built from salvaged timber and shipwreck pieces.
Its crooked sign creaked in the wind above the door.
Nick glanced at it as they approached.
"Still standing."
Sico pushed the door open.
The inside smelled like saltwater, old wood, and strong alcohol.
A few early patrons sat scattered around the room.
Fishermen mostly.
One man looked up as the door opened—
then nearly choked on his drink when four power armor soldiers followed Sico and Nick inside.
Nick raised both hands slightly.
"Relax."
"They're with us."
The man stared for a few seconds longer before slowly returning to his drink.
At the far end of the tavern sat the man they had come to see.
Old Longfellow.
Gray beard.
Weathered coat.
Hat pulled low.
He sat exactly where they had left him two days ago, leaning back in his chair with a bottle in one hand.
He looked up as they approached.
His eyes moved from Sico…
to Nick…
and then slowly upward toward the towering power armor figures standing behind them.
Longfellow blinked once.
"Well."
He took another slow drink.
"That's new."
Nick pulled out a chair and sat across from him.
"Morning, Longfellow."
The old hunter snorted.
"Was starting to think you two got lost."
Nick tilted his head.
"Technically we did."
Longfellow gestured toward the armor soldiers.
"You bring an army with you?"
Nick shrugged.
"Just a few friends."
Longfellow leaned back further in his chair, studying the metal giants.
"Those things walk?"
One of the power armor soldiers shifted slightly behind Sico.
Hydraulics hissed.
Longfellow nodded slowly.
"Huh."
He took another drink.
"Alright then."
He looked back at Sico.
"You ready to go find your missing girl?"
Sico answered calmly.
"Yes."
Longfellow placed the bottle on the table.
"Good."
He stood slowly, joints popping slightly as he stretched.
"Because the fog's only getting worse this week."
Nick stood up as well.
"Perfect weather for a hike."
Longfellow grabbed his rifle from beside the wall.
"You two ever been through the island woods?"
Nick smiled faintly.
"Not yet."
Longfellow chuckled dryly.
"Well."
"You're about to."
He glanced toward the power armor soldiers again.
"Hope those walking tin cans can keep up."
One of the operators spoke for the first time, voice filtered through the helmet speakers.
"We will manage."
Longfellow grinned slightly.
"I like this one."
Nick adjusted his coat.
"So."
He looked at Sico.
"Arcadia."
Sico nodded once.
"Yes."
Longfellow opened the tavern door.
Fog drifted through the street outside.
Thick.
Cold.
Waiting.
The island stretched beyond the town walls.
Dark forest.
Broken highways.
Creatures moving somewhere in the mist.
And far beyond that, Arcadia.
The hidden refuge.
And the girl they had come to find.
Longfellow stepped outside first.
"Well boys."
He slung his rifle over his shoulder.
"Let's go see what kind of trouble we can find."
The tavern door creaked shut behind them.
Cold fog rolled through the street like slow-moving smoke, wrapping itself around the wooden buildings of Far Harbor and drifting across the harbor road. The sounds of the docks were still there in the distance from crates moving, soldiers shouting quiet instructions, the dull metallic thud of power armor boots but already those sounds were fading as Sico, Nick, Old Longfellow, and the four armored soldiers began walking toward the town gate.
The morning had grown colder.
Far Harbor's main street stretched ahead of them, narrow and uneven, lined with crooked wooden buildings that had been patched and repaired more times than anyone could count. Lanterns still hung from a few posts even though daylight had technically arrived, their yellow glow barely cutting through the gray mist.
Longfellow walked in front.
He moved with the slow confidence of someone who knew the island's paths by heart. His boots crunched lightly over the gravel and broken planks of the street while his rifle rested comfortably against his shoulder.
Behind him came Sico and Nick.
And behind them.
CLANG.
CLANG.
CLANG.
The four power armor soldiers followed like walking fortresses.
Every step they took echoed between the buildings.
Several Far Harbor townsfolk stopped what they were doing as the group passed.
A fisherman paused while mending a net.
Two guards along the wall turned their heads.
A woman carrying a basket of dried fish stopped entirely and stared at the towering metal figures walking through town.
Nick noticed the looks.
He leaned slightly toward Sico.
"Yeah… people are definitely going to talk about that for a while."
Sico replied calmly.
"That is acceptable."
Nick gave a faint grin.
"Good answer."
Ahead of them, the town wall loomed out of the fog.
Far Harbor's defensive gate was little more than a reinforced metal barrier built into the wooden palisade. Pipes and industrial machines rattled beside it as the fog condensers that constantly sucked the toxic mist away from the settlement.
The machines groaned as they worked.
Steam hissed through metal vents.
A guard stood beside the gate controls.
He blinked in surprise when he saw the approaching group.
Nick tipped his hat slightly.
"Morning."
The guard's eyes moved slowly from Nick…
to Sico…
to Old Longfellow…
and then upward toward the four towering power armor soldiers behind them.
"Uh…"
He cleared his throat.
"Heading out?"
Longfellow answered before anyone else.
"Obviously."
The guard scratched the side of his head.
"You know the fog's thick today."
Longfellow shrugged.
"Fog's always thick."
The guard looked uncertain for a moment, then reached for the gate controls.
"Well… good luck."
The heavy metal gate groaned as it slowly opened.
Beyond it, the island.
The fog rolled across the wilderness like a living thing.
Tall skeletal trees stretched upward into gray sky.
The road beyond the gate disappeared only a few dozen yards ahead, swallowed by mist.
Nick looked at the scene and sighed softly.
"Yep."
"This definitely looks like the beginning of a terrible idea."
Longfellow stepped through the gate without hesitation.
"Quit complaining."
Sico followed.
Nick adjusted his coat and walked out into the fog after them.
The power armor soldiers stepped through last.
CLANG.
CLANG.
CLANG.
The gate slowly shut behind them.
And just like that, Far Harbor was gone.
The road outside the town was barely a road anymore.
Old cracked asphalt twisted through the forest, broken in places where tree roots had forced their way through the pavement. Moss and strange gray plants covered the ground while the fog drifted constantly between the trunks.
Visibility was poor.
Even during daylight the island interior felt dim and shadowed.
Longfellow walked ahead at a steady pace.
"You'll want to keep your eyes open out here," he said.
Nick glanced around.
"Yeah, I figured."
The fog muffled sound strangely.
Even the heavy steps of the power armor soldiers sounded dull and distant.
After several minutes of walking, Longfellow continued speaking.
"You two should probably know what lives out here."
Nick gave a sideways glance.
"Besides disappointment and bad weather?"
Longfellow ignored the comment.
"There are people on this island who ain't exactly… stable."
Sico listened silently.
Longfellow continued.
"We call them, Trappers."
Nick raised an eyebrow.
"Creative name."
"They used to be fishermen."
"Hunters."
"Settlers."
"Regular folks."
Longfellow's voice became quieter.
"But the islands changes people."
They walked deeper into the fog as he spoke.
"The isolation."
"The hunger."
"The fog itself."
"Something about it gets into people's heads."
Nick frowned slightly.
"How bad are we talking?"
Longfellow glanced back briefly.
"You ever seen someone live alone for years with nothing but fog and monsters around them?"
Nick shrugged.
"Boston's not that different."
Longfellow shook his head.
"No."
"It's worse here."
They stepped over a fallen tree trunk as they continued along the broken road.
"The Trappers, they've gone completely insane."
Nick tilted his head slightly.
"Insane how?"
Longfellow answered bluntly.
"They hunt people."
Nick stopped walking for a second.
"…Ah."
"That kind of insane."
Longfellow nodded.
"Cannibals."
"They set traps in the woods."
"Ambush travelers."
"Drag people back to their camps."
Nick rubbed the back of his neck.
"Well."
"That's unpleasant."
One of the power armor soldiers behind them spoke quietly through his helmet speaker.
"We will remain alert."
Longfellow glanced at the armored figure.
"Good idea."
He continued walking.
"They like to hide in the fog."
"Wait for someone to wander too far off the roads."
Sico asked his first question since leaving town.
"How many?"
Longfellow shrugged.
"Hard to say."
"They move around."
"Different groups."
"Different camps."
Nick looked around the forest slowly.
"Fantastic."
"So we've got cannibal ambush lunatics."
Longfellow nodded.
"Yep."
"And that ain't even the worst thing on this island."
Nick sighed.
"Of course it isn't."
The fog thickened slightly as they moved deeper into the forest.
Tree branches creaked softly above them.
The road curved slowly uphill.
After a moment, Longfellow spoke again.
"You also need to watch out for Fog Crawlers."
Nick blinked.
"…I'm afraid to ask."
Longfellow smiled faintly.
"They're big."
Nick groaned.
"They're always big."
"They're also fast."
"That's worse."
Longfellow continued calmly.
"Mutated crustaceans."
Nick stared at him.
"…Crabs."
"Not exactly."
"They stand taller than a man."
Nick stopped walking again.
"You're kidding."
Longfellow shook his head.
"Nope."
"They hunt using the fog."
"They hide in it."
"Wait until something walks close enough."
"Then they strike."
Nick rubbed his temple.
"So."
"Giant ambush crabs."
"Cannibal trapper lunatics."
"And endless toxic fog."
He glanced at Sico.
"You really know how to pick vacation spots."
Sico continued walking calmly.
"This island has strategic importance."
Nick sighed.
"Of course it does."
Behind them the power armor soldiers maintained their formation.
Their metal frames moved steadily through the forest, occasionally brushing branches aside as they passed.
The sound of their heavy footsteps echoed through the fog like distant machinery.
Longfellow glanced back again.
"You might actually scare some things off with those walking tanks."
Nick shrugged.
"That's the hope."
They continued walking for another half hour.
The road eventually narrowed into a rough dirt path winding between large rock formations and dense trees.
The fog seemed thicker here.
Heavier.
Like the air itself had weight.
Nick suddenly stopped.
"You smell that?"
Longfellow nodded immediately.
"Rot."
Sico looked toward the trees.
"Trappers?"
"Maybe."
Longfellow slowly lowered his rifle from his shoulder.
"Stay sharp."
The power armor soldiers adjusted their positions slightly, spreading out around the group.
Their helmets turned slowly, scanning the fog.
The forest was silent.
Too silent.
Nick reached for his revolver.
"Yep."
"Definitely the beginning of trouble."
Somewhere in the distance, a faint metallic clink echoed through the fog.
______________________________________________
• Name: Sico
• Stats :
S: 8,44
P: 7,44
E: 8,44
C: 8,44
I: 9,44
A: 7,45
L: 7
• Skills: advance Mechanic, Science, and Shooting skills, intermediate Medical, Hand to Hand Combat, Lockpicking, Hacking, Persuasion, and Drawing Skills
• Inventory: 53.280 caps, 10mm Pistol, 1500 10mm rounds, 22 mole rats meat, 17 mole rats teeth, 1 fragmentation grenade, 6 stimpak, 1 rad x, 6 fusion core, computer blueprint, modern TV blueprint, camera recorder blueprint, 1 set of combat armor, Automatic Assault Rifle, 1.500 5.56mm rounds, power armor T51 blueprint, Electric Motorcycle blueprint, T-45 power armor, Minigun, 1.000 5mm rounds, Cryolator, 200 cryo cell, Machine Gun Turret Mk1 blueprint, electric car blueprint, Kellogg gun, Righteous Authority, Ashmaker, Furious Power Fist, Full set combat armor blueprint, M240 7.62mm machine guns blueprint, Automatic Assault Rifle blueprint, and Humvee blueprint.
• Active Quest:-