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!)
...
Harbormen processing what had tried to kill them just hours before, as the wall continuing to take shape.
The work didn't slow just because the immediate danger had passed.
If anything, it settled into something steadier. More grounded.
Less reactive.
The outer line was alive again which not with gunfire this time, but with purpose. The sound of construction returned in full, metal striking into place, supports being driven deeper into the earth, damaged sections reinforced with a kind of quiet urgency that came from knowing exactly what failure would look like.
They had just seen it.
And stopped it.
That mattered.
Sico stood near the edge of the gathered gulper pile, his attention shifting between the different layers of activity now unfolding at once. The soldiers had returned to their structured rhythm, some reinforcing the wall, others re-establishing patrol rotations beyond the perimeter. The Harbormen worked at the carcasses, cutting, separating, hauling usable meat aside with a growing efficiency that came from familiarity rather than formal training.
The air was different now.
Still heavy.
Still damp.
But no longer just survival.
There was momentum in it.
Something earned.
Sico turned slightly.
"Status report."
One of the nearby soldiers responded immediately, stepping forward without hesitation.
"Yes."
"Casualty assessment," Sico continued.
"Count injured."
"Confirm if any KIA."
"Understood."
The soldier didn't waste another second. He turned and moved quickly along the line, weaving between teams, stopping briefly at different sections, speaking to officers, checking positions, verifying numbers. His movements were efficient, focused.
Sico watched him go.
Then returned his attention to the rest of the field.
A group of soldiers replaced a bent support beam near the right section of the wall, working in tight coordination. Nearby, Allen and two others hauled a large cut of gulper meat toward a makeshift staging area, their boots sinking slightly into the softened ground.
"…Never thought I'd be hauling one of these like this," one of the Harbormen muttered.
Allen gave a short, dry breath.
"…Better this than the other way around."
That earned a few quiet nods.
Because everyone understood that difference now.
Across the line, Avery moved between groups again, her voice steady as she checked on her people, making sure no one was pushing past their limit, no one slipping through the cracks.
Everything was functioning.
Not perfectly.
But together.
After some time, the soldier Sico had sent returned.
He approached at a steady pace, stopping just short of him.
"Report."
"Seventeen injured," the soldier said.
"Minor to moderate."
A brief pause.
"No KIA."
The words settled.
Clean.
Clear.
Sico held his gaze for a second.
Processing.
Confirming.
"Location of injured."
"Already transferred to medical," the soldier replied.
"Being treated."
"Expected recovery."
Sico gave a single nod.
"Confirmed."
The soldier stepped back into position without further instruction.
No KIA.
That mattered more than anything else.
Especially here.
Especially after a fight like that.
Sico's gaze shifted again, this time toward the gate, where a few of the injured had been carried earlier. The medics inside had already taken over, their work quieter, less visible, but just as critical as everything happening outside.
Seventeen injured.
But alive.
That wasn't luck.
That was structure holding.
Sico turned.
"Avery."
She was already nearby, finishing a brief exchange with one of her people. When she heard her name, she turned and walked toward him, wiping her hands lightly against her coat as she approached.
"…Yeah?"
Sico met her gaze.
"Casualties assessed."
Avery's expression tightened slightly.
"…How bad?"
"Seventeen injured."
A brief pause.
"No KIA."
Avery exhaled.
Slow.
Not dramatic.
But real.
"…Alright."
Her shoulders eased just slightly.
"…That's… better than I expected."
She didn't sugarcoat it.
Didn't pretend it wasn't serious.
But she knew what it could have been.
Sico continued.
"Injured are receiving medical attention."
She nodded.
"…Good."
A moment passed between them.
Not silent.
But grounded.
Because they both understood what that meant.
Then Sico spoke again.
"Next action."
Avery tilted her head slightly.
"…Yeah?"
Sico gestured toward the Harbormen working the gulper carcasses.
"Food resources secured."
Avery followed his gaze.
Watched the movement.
The cuts.
The stacking of usable meat.
"…Yeah."
Then Sico looked back at her.
"Organize preparation."
Avery blinked once.
"…Preparation?"
"Cooking."
The word landed differently.
Not tactical.
Not structural.
Something else.
Sico continued.
"A feast."
That made her pause.
Not because she didn't understand.
But because she hadn't expected it.
"…A feast?"
Sico's tone didn't change.
"To reward."
He gestured slightly toward the soldiers.
Then the Harbormen.
"Joint effort."
"Successful defense."
A beat.
"Morale reinforcement."
Avery stared at him for a second.
Then something shifted in her expression.
Not surprise.
Not doubt.
Recognition.
"…You're serious."
"Yes."
Simple.
Clear.
Avery let out a short breath.
Then a faint smile that not wide, not exaggerated, but real as it's touched her face.
"…You know what?"
She nodded once.
"…That's actually a good idea."
Her gaze drifted back toward the workers.
The soldiers.
Allen.
The people who had just stood side by side and held something that had never held before.
"…They've earned it."
Sico didn't respond.
Because that was already understood.
Avery straightened slightly.
"…Alright."
Her tone shifted.
More active now.
"…I'll get it started."
She turned, then paused for half a second.
"…You're gonna have to deal with whatever they come up with, though," she added, a faint edge of dry humor slipping through.
"…Gulper stew's not exactly fine dining."
Sico's response was immediate.
"Efficiency over preference."
That made her let out a quiet, almost amused breath.
"…Yeah. Figured you'd say that."
Then she moved.
Back toward the gate again.
But this time, her energy was different.
Not just organizing.
Building something else.
She stepped into the group of Harbormen, raising her voice just enough to cut through the ongoing noise.
"…Alright, listen up!"
Heads turned.
Not all.
But enough.
"…We're not just processing this for storage."
A few brows furrowed.
"…We're cooking."
That got more attention.
"…A full meal."
"…For everyone."
A pause.
"…Tonight."
That changed things.
You could see it.
In posture.
In the way people looked at each other.
Because this wasn't just survival anymore.
This was something else.
"…You're serious?" one of them asked.
Avery nodded.
"…Yeah."
Then added:
"…You all saw what happened out there."
"…We held."
"…Together."
Another pause.
"…So we're going to eat like it matters."
That settled it.
Not completely.
But enough.
"…Alright," someone muttered.
"…Guess we can make that work."
"…Gonna need fires," another said.
"…And something to cook it in."
"…We've got the old iron pots."
"…Still holding?"
"…They'll hold."
Movement began again.
Different this time.
Some Harbormen peeled away from the processing group, heading back into Far Harbor to gather what they needed from pots, pans, anything that could be used. Others stayed, continuing to break down the meat, but now with a clearer purpose.
Not just survival stock.
Something immediate.
Something shared.
Allen stood among them, knife in hand, working through a thick section of meat with steady, practiced movements. He glanced briefly toward Avery as she passed, then toward Sico in the distance.
"…Feast, huh," he muttered.
The man beside him shrugged.
"…Why not?"
Allen huffed quietly.
"…Yeah."
"…Why not."
He kept working.
But there was something lighter in the way he moved now.
Not careless.
But less weighed down.
Because for once, this wasn't just about getting through the next hour.
The soldiers didn't stop their work either.
The wall continued to rise.
Section by section.
The damaged areas reinforced, the gaps closing, the connection to the gate growing stronger with every passing minute.
Patrols continued to move beyond the line, power armor units leading the way through the fog, making sure nothing else gathered unnoticed.
Everything stayed in motion.
But now there was something beneath it.
Something quieter.
Not spoken.
But present.
They had held.
No one had fallen.
Seventeen injured.
But alive.
And now, instead of just preparing for the next threat, they were marking that moment.
In the only way that made sense here.
Together.
Sico remained where he was.
Watching.
Not with satisfaction.
Not with pride.
But with clarity.
Because this wasn't the end of anything.
Another wave would come.
Eventually.
But now, there was something different standing against it.
Not just walls.
Not just soldiers.
Not just Harbormen.
Something combined.
Something that had already been tested.
And held.
The sounds of preparation began to mix with the steady rhythm of construction.
Wood being dragged.
Metal set.
Voices calling out instructions for both defense and cooking.
Smoke would come later.
Fire.
Food.
Something that hadn't existed here in a long time.
Not like this.
The shift from battle to rebuilding didn't come with any kind of announcement.
It just happened.
One moment the air still carried the weight of gunfire and impact, and the next, it was filled with the steady rhythm of hands working again from tools striking, wood dragged across ground, metal lifted back into place.
Sico didn't linger on the feast preparations.
He had already set it in motion.
That was enough.
He left Avery to it without another word, trusting that she would do what needed to be done as it was not just because she could, but because she understood why it mattered.
And she did.
As she moved back toward the inner side of the settlement, calling out instructions, gathering the women and a few of the older hands who knew how to turn rough meat into something edible, something that could be shared, something that could mean more than just calories… Sico turned the other direction.
Back to the line.
Back to the work.
Because the wall had held.
But it had also been tested.
And anything that had been tested needed to be reinforced.
He stepped toward the damaged sections, boots pressing into the still-soft ground, now marked with deep grooves from where gulpers had dragged and fallen.
The air still smelled of them.
Rotten.
Heavy.
But it was already fading beneath something else with smoke beginning to rise faintly from inside the harbor, where fires were being prepared.
Behind him, laughter that quiet, uncertain, but real as it's flickered for just a second before being swallowed by distance.
He didn't look back.
He didn't need to.
"Repair units," Sico said as he approached the outer wall.
The nearest soldiers turned immediately.
"Ready."
He gestured toward a section where the metal plating had buckled inward slightly, the support beam behind it strained but not broken.
"Reinforce this point."
"Double support."
"Anchor deeper."
"Confirmed."
They moved without hesitation.
Two soldiers lifted the damaged panel slightly while another slid a reinforcement beam into place behind it, driving it deeper into the ground with controlled, repeated strikes.
CLANG.
CLANG.
CLANG.
The sound carried, steady and precise.
Another team joined them, bringing additional supports, securing the edges, tightening bolts that had loosened under impact.
The wall didn't just return to what it had been.
It became stronger.
Because now they knew where it could fail.
Sico moved along the line.
Every step deliberate.
Every glance measured.
He stopped at another section where the ground had shifted under repeated impacts, causing the base of the structure to tilt just slightly.
Not enough to collapse.
But enough to matter.
"Excavate."
"Reset foundation."
"Confirmed."
The soldiers immediately began digging, removing the loosened soil, reshaping the base before setting the structure back into place with deeper anchoring.
They didn't rush it.
Because rushing was how things broke.
And nothing here could afford to break.
Nearby, Harbormen began to return.
Not all at once.
But in small groups.
The ones who had been working on the gulper carcasses first, their hands still marked from the work, sleeves rolled, tools set aside.
They didn't hesitate at the edge of the construction zone.
Didn't wait to be told.
They stepped back into it.
Allen was among the first.
He wiped his hands once against his coat, glanced briefly toward the inner harbor where the first real signs of cooking had begun with smoke rising more steadily now, voices gathering around it then turned his attention back to the wall.
"…Where do you need us?" he asked.
Not challenging.
Not resistant.
Just direct.
Sico didn't turn fully.
But he answered immediately.
"Structural support."
"Material transport."
"Stabilization."
Allen nodded once.
"…Alright."
He didn't need more than that.
He turned to the others behind him.
"…You heard him."
And just like that, they were back in it.
Harbormen picked up beams.
Carried plating.
Braced sections while soldiers secured them.
The difference between them was still there from movement, precision, training but it didn't clash anymore.
It fit.
Rough edges aligning with structure.
Experience meeting discipline.
One of the Harbormen crouched near a support beam, running his hand along the ground before it was set.
"…Soil's loose here," he muttered.
A soldier paused.
"Adjust?"
"…Yeah. Dig half a foot deeper."
The soldier didn't question it.
"Confirmed."
They adjusted.
And just like that, something that might have failed later… didn't.
Sico observed it.
Not with approval.
But with confirmation.
Integration wasn't perfect.
But it was effective.
He continued down the line.
Another section.
Another correction.
Another reinforcement.
Time passed without being marked.
Minutes.
Maybe longer.
It didn't matter.
Because everything moved in rhythm now.
Metal struck.
Wood settled.
Voices called out short instructions.
The wall began to look different again.
Less damaged.
More complete.
More… real.
And behind it, the second layer of activity grew.
Smoke thickened.
Fires took hold.
The scent shifted.
Less decay.
More… food.
Rough.
Heavy.
But unmistakable.
Cooking.
Sico paused for a moment near the center of the outer line, his gaze lifting just slightly toward the inner harbor.
Not fully turning.
Just enough to register it.
Avery stood near one of the fire pits, sleeves pushed up, directing the flow of activity around her. Several women worked with her, cutting, stirring, organizing the meat into something that could actually be cooked properly.
Large iron pots had been dragged out.
Set over open flame.
The gulper meat that has been cleaned, cut, separated was being lowered into them in thick chunks, mixed with whatever else they could find to stretch it.
Roots.
Salt.
Scraps of preserved food.
Whatever they had.
It wasn't refined.
It wasn't planned.
But it was being built the same way the wall was.
Piece by piece.
Together.
Voices carried faintly.
"…Stir that, don't let it stick."
"…Needs more water."
"…We've got more cuts coming."
"…Bring them over."
There was a rhythm there too.
Different.
But just as real.
Sico watched for half a second longer.
Then turned back.
Because his part was here.
A soldier approached from the right flank.
"Section repair at sixty percent completion."
Sico nodded.
"Continue."
"No delays."
"Confirmed."
Another team moved past carrying a fresh reinforcement panel, positioning it along the outer curve where the wall still hadn't fully connected to the gate.
Sico stepped toward them.
"Align with previous segment."
"Maintain angle."
"Confirmed."
They adjusted immediately, lowering the panel into place, securing it with practiced efficiency.
A Harborman stepped in beside them, holding the edge steady while a soldier drove the bolts in.
"…Hold it there," the soldier said.
"…Got it," the Harborman replied.
The panel locked.
Solid.
Another gap closed.
Sico moved again.
Further along.
The patrol units beyond the wall had resumed their routes, power armor figures moving like distant shadows through the fog, their heavy steps faint but constant.
CLANG.
CLANG.
CLANG.
They didn't stop.
Didn't relax.
Because the island didn't.
And neither would they.
Back at the wall, more Harbormen joined the effort.
The ones who had finished butchering.
The ones who had carried meat inside.
The ones who had seen enough now to understand that this wasn't temporary.
This was something they were part of.
Allen worked near the center again, lifting a beam into place with another man, both of them bracing it while a soldier secured the base.
"…Never thought we'd be building something like this," the man beside him muttered.
Allen grunted quietly.
"…Yeah."
A beat.
"…But I'm not gonna complain if it keeps them out."
The soldier beside them didn't look up.
"It will."
Simple.
Certain.
Allen glanced at him for a second.
Then nodded.
"…Good."
Because belief didn't matter.
Outcome did.
The work continued.
Layer after layer.
Section after section.
The wall grew.
Stronger.
More complete.
More connected.
And behind it, the fires burned steadily now.
The scent of cooking spread across the harbor, cutting through the fog, reaching even the outer line where the work continued.
It wasn't clean.
It wasn't refined.
But it was warm.
Real.
A reminder.
Sico didn't comment on it.
Didn't acknowledge it outwardly.
But he registered it.
Because morale wasn't just words.
It was moments like that.
Earned.
Not given.
A soldier approached again from the central section.
"Outer wall connection to gate at eighty percent."
Sico nodded.
"Complete connection."
"Reinforce junction point."
"Confirmed."
The final segments were being moved into place now, closing the last visible gaps between the outer wall and the main gate structure.
Once that was done, it wouldn't just be an extension anymore.
It would be a perimeter.
A real one.
The kind Far Harbor had never had.
Sico stepped closer as the final beam was lifted into position, watching as both soldiers and Harbormen worked together to align it perfectly.
"Hold."
They paused.
Adjusted.
"Now."
The beam dropped into place.
Locked.
Secured.
Bolts driven.
Supports anchored.
And just like that, the outer wall connected.
Not fully reinforced yet.
Not finished.
But continuous.
Sico's gaze moved along it slowly.
Taking in the curve.
The structure.
The space it now enclosed.
More ground.
More distance between the fog and the people inside.
More time.
More control.
Behind him, a voice carried from the harbor.
"…Food's almost ready!"
Another answered.
"…About time."
A faint ripple of sound followed.
Not loud.
Not chaotic.
But something lighter than before.
Sico didn't turn.
But he heard it.
And he understood what it meant.
He looked back at the wall.
At the people working it.
At the soldiers.
At the Harbormen.
At what had been built.
Not finished.
But proven.
Then he spoke.
"Final reinforcement phase."
"Double-check all structural points."
"Maintain patrol coverage."
"Prepare for next contact."
"Confirmed."
The responses came immediately.
The confirmations didn't echo for long.
They didn't need to.
The work carried them forward immediately from final checks, reinforcements driven deeper, patrol routes tightened just a little more. The outer wall stood there now, not perfect, not finished, but real in a way Far Harbor had never known before.
It had been tested.
It had held.
And now it was being made stronger.
But even that rhythm—steady, grounded, relentless—couldn't go on forever without pause.
Because something else had already been set in motion.
Something quieter.
Something human.
The first real sign came not from the wall, but from behind it.
A shift in sound.
Not commands.
Not tools.
Voices.
Looser.
Less restrained.
"…Bring that over here."
"…Careful, it's hot—"
"…Smells better than I thought it would."
A ripple of low laughter followed that.
Not forced.
Not nervous.
Just… real.
Sico didn't turn immediately.
He remained where he was for a moment longer, watching the final reinforcement checks play out along the outer line. A soldier tested the stability of a newly placed beam, applying pressure, checking for movement.
It didn't give.
Another confirmed the angle of a mounted defensive position, adjusting it by a fraction to widen its coverage.
Everything was holding.
Everything was ready.
For now.
Then the voice came again, louder this time from inside the harbor.
"…Food's ready!"
That carried.
Across the wall.
Through the fog.
Over the last remnants of work.
And this time, it didn't just pass through unnoticed.
It landed.
The soldiers didn't drop what they were doing.
They didn't rush.
But there was a shift.
Subtle.
Measured.
Tools were set down more carefully.
Final checks became final.
Postures eased, just slightly.
Not a loss of discipline.
But a release of pressure.
Because they knew.
The work had reached a point where it could pause.
Not stop.
But pause.
Sico turned then.
Finally.
His gaze moved back toward the harbor.
Smoke rose steadily now from multiple fire pits, thicker, darker against the pale gray of the fog. The scent of cooking had fully taken hold, cutting through everything else from earth, metal, decay.
It was rough.
Heavy.
But unmistakable.
Food.
People had begun to gather.
Not in tight formations.
Not in lines.
But in clusters.
Soldiers and Harbormen alike, drawn in slowly, cautiously at first, then with more certainty as it became clear this wasn't just a moment.
It was something meant to happen.
Sico stepped away from the wall.
Not hurried.
Not slow.
Just deliberate.
He moved back through the gate, passing by the last of the reinforcement teams as they secured their positions and transitioned into watch rotations.
Behind him, the wall stood.
Ahead, the harbor changed.
The ground inside had been cleared in a wide area near the center, where the fires burned. Large iron pots hung over open flames, their contents thick and simmering. The gulper meat had softened, broken down, mixed with whatever else had been added—roots, herbs, scraps of preserved stock.
Steam rose from it in slow, steady waves.
People gathered around, some holding makeshift bowls, others waiting with quiet patience.
It wasn't organized like a military ration line.
It wasn't rigid.
But it worked.
Because everyone understood the importance of it.
Avery stood near the main fire, one hand resting on the edge of a large pot as she stirred it slowly, checking the consistency. Her sleeves were still pushed up, a faint smear of soot across one arm, her hair slightly out of place from the work.
She looked up as Sico approached.
"…Took you long enough," she said, not unkindly.
Sico stopped a few steps away.
"Final checks completed."
Avery gave a small nod.
"…Figured."
She glanced back into the pot, stirring once more before stepping aside slightly.
"…It's ready."
There was something in her tone.
Not pride.
Not exactly.
But something close.
Because this wasn't something Far Harbor had done in a long time.
Not like this.
Sico looked at the pot.
At the steam rising from it.
Then at the people gathered around.
"Distribute."
He didn't raise his voice.
But it carried enough.
Avery picked it up immediately.
"…Alright, let's move."
She grabbed a ladle, dipping it into the thick stew and pouring the first portion into a worn metal bowl.
"…One at a time, don't crowd it."
People stepped forward.
Slowly at first.
Then more steadily.
Soldiers.
Harbormen.
No separation.
No distinction.
Just people.
Eating.
Because they had earned it.
The first few bites were cautious.
Testing.
Because gulper meat wasn't something most of them had eaten like this.
Not prepared.
Not like a meal.
But then.
"…That's… actually not bad."
A soldier said it, almost surprised.
A Harborman beside him gave a short huff.
"…Told you. Meat's meat."
Another voice chimed in.
"…Better than half the rations I've had."
That drew a few quiet chuckles.
And just like that, the tension eased.
Not gone.
But lighter.
Sico accepted a bowl without comment when it was handed to him.
He moved a short distance away from the main cluster, not isolating himself completely, but not standing in the center either.
A place where he could observe.
And be present.
He sat.
Simple.
Direct.
The ground beneath him still damp, but stable enough.
He didn't hesitate.
He began to eat.
The stew was rough.
Thick.
The meat dense, slightly rubbery in places, softer in others.
The flavor was strong.
Earthy.
Not refined.
But functional.
Sustaining.
He ate without reaction.
Because for him, it wasn't about taste.
It was about purpose.
Avery joined him a moment later, lowering herself onto a nearby crate with her own bowl.
"…Not exactly a five-star meal," she muttered, blowing lightly across the surface before taking a bite.
She chewed.
Considered.
Then gave a small nod.
"…But it'll do."
Sico didn't respond.
He continued eating.
Avery glanced at him sideways.
"…You always like this?"
A pause.
"…Or just when you're working?"
Sico answered simply.
"Consistency."
Avery huffed a faint breath.
"…Yeah. That tracks."
There was a moment of quiet between them.
Not uncomfortable.
Just… settled.
Then another figure approached.
Allen.
He carried his own bowl, lowering himself down onto an overturned crate across from them with a grunt.
"…Didn't think I'd be sitting here eating gulper stew with mainland soldiers," he said, not looking at either of them directly.
Avery smirked faintly.
"…Yeah, well. A lot of things changed this week."
Allen snorted quietly.
"…That's one way to put it."
He took a bite.
Chewed.
Raised an eyebrow slightly.
"…Huh."
Avery glanced at him.
"…Good?"
Allen shrugged.
"…Not terrible."
A beat.
"…Better than starving."
That seemed to be the common conclusion.
They ate in relative quiet for a few moments after that.
Around them, the harbor had shifted fully now.
Groups had formed.
Some sat near the fires, others along crates or makeshift seating.
Soldiers spoke with Harbormen in low tones, conversations that wouldn't have happened days ago.
"…Where you from?"
"…Doesn't matter much now."
"…Fair enough."
"…You fought well out there."
"…So did you."
It wasn't bonding.
Not fully.
But it was something.
A start.
Allen wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then looked out toward the outer wall, barely visible through the fog beyond the gate.
"…That thing's real," he said.
Not a question.
A statement.
Avery followed his gaze.
"…Yeah."
Allen shook his head slightly.
"…Never thought I'd see Far Harbor push out like that."
A pause.
"…We've always just… held."
His voice lowered slightly.
"…Barely."
Sico looked at him.
"Current structure increases survival probability."
Allen gave a dry huff.
"…Yeah. I figured you'd put it like that."
He glanced back at Sico.
"…But you're not wrong."
Avery leaned back slightly, resting one arm on her knee.
"…It's more than just the wall."
She gestured loosely around them.
"…It's this too."
Allen followed the motion.
The people.
The food.
The conversation.
He didn't respond immediately.
Then:
"…Yeah."
A beat.
"…Maybe it is."
Sico continued eating.
But he listened.
Because this mattered.
Not emotionally.
But structurally.
Because what they were building wasn't just physical.
It was functional.
Sustainable.
Allen shifted slightly, setting his empty bowl down beside him.
"…So what happens now?" he asked, looking between Sico and Avery.
"…We just keep building?"
Sico answered.
"Yes."
No hesitation.
"No regression."
"Maintain expansion."
"Reinforce stability."
Allen nodded slowly.
"…Figures."
Avery added quietly.
"…We don't stop."
She looked out toward the fog.
"…Not after this."
Another pause settled.
But it wasn't heavy.
Not like before.
Because now there was something beneath it.
Something shared.
Sico finished his meal.
Set the bowl aside.
His gaze moved across the harbor once more.
The people.
The wall.
The patrols beyond.
Everything in motion.
Everything connected.
And for the first time, it wasn't fragile which not in the same way as it could still break. But now, it could also hold and that change everything.
______________________________________________
• 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:-