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!)
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The Sentinels continued advancing relentlessly through the outskirts while their cannons blasted apart defensive positions hidden among burning structures and shattered perimeter trenches.
The outskirts became hell almost immediately.
Not organized battle.
Not clean military movement.
Just violence spreading faster than human beings could control it.
The artillery barrage had shattered the outer defenses of the Nucleus, but it hadn't broken the people defending them.
If anything, it had driven them into something even more dangerous.
Desperation.
The Children of Atom fought like people who genuinely believed death was holy.
And that changed everything.
The lead Sentinel crushed through the remains of a burning barricade while heavy machine guns hammered trench positions hidden beneath smoke and broken concrete. Shell casings poured from the mounted weapons in endless streams while infantry squads advanced tightly behind the armored hulls using the tanks as moving cover against incoming fire.
"Push left!"
Ward's voice cut sharply through radio chatter and gunfire.
"Second squad move left!"
A burst of radiation rounds slammed against the side of a Humvee hard enough to spray sparks across the road while the gunner above immediately returned fire into the smoke-covered ruins ahead.
The Children defenders weren't retreating.
They were reorganizing.
Fast.
Far faster than anyone hoped after the artillery strike.
Figures in torn radiation robes emerged through burning trench systems and shattered guard posts carrying salvaged rifles, pipe explosives, gamma guns, even old military weapons scavenged from somewhere beneath the submarine base over the years.
And they kept coming.
One Children fighter climbed onto the wreckage of a collapsed watchtower screaming prayers to Atom while firing wildly toward the advancing infantry columns before a sniper round snapped his head backward into the smoke.
Another rushed forward carrying homemade explosives strapped across his chest.
"Bomber!"
The warning came too late.
The explosion ripped through the northern assault lane in a wall of dirt, blood, and fire that overturned one infantry transport sideways while soldiers nearby were hurled into the mud beneath screaming metal fragments.
"MEDIC!"
The battlefield answered with more gunfire.
Always more gunfire.
Sico moved through the advancing infantry line beside the lead Sentinel while bullets cracked overhead and ricocheted from ruined structures surrounding the outskirts.
The smoke made visibility terrible.
Every burned building looked like an ambush position.
Every trench line looked abandoned until muzzle flashes suddenly erupted from inside it.
Children fighters fired from rooftops.
From crater holes.
From drainage tunnels beneath shattered roads.
From behind burning shrines still glowing with radiation symbols and half-melted candles.
The cultists knew this terrain intimately.
And they used every meter of it.
A rifleman beside Sico dropped instantly after taking a round through the upper chest. The impact spun him sideways into the mud while the medic behind him tried dragging him toward cover beneath incoming fire.
"Stay with me!"
The wounded soldier tried speaking.
Blood spilled from his mouth instead.
Nearby, another squad attempted to breach a collapsed trench line only for hidden Children defenders to open fire from beneath camouflage netting buried under debris and ash.
Three soldiers went down almost immediately.
The rest hit the ground hard behind broken concrete while machine guns shredded the trench edge trying to silence the defenders inside.
But the Children kept firing.
One corporal slammed a fresh magazine into his rifle while breathing hard against the side of a crater.
"How the hell are they still organized?"
The veteran beside him answered without looking away from the smoke.
"They've been preparing for this place to get attacked their whole lives."
That was the terrifying part.
The Nucleus wasn't just a base.
It was sacred ground.
The Children of Atom would die defending it.
Gladly.
The Sentinels pushed deeper into the outskirts through overwhelming resistance while their cannons blasted apart hardened defensive sectors hidden among industrial ruins and shattered concrete walls.
One shell struck a fortified machine-gun nest positioned inside an old warehouse skeleton, collapsing the upper floor completely in a storm of steel beams and burning debris.
Still the return fire continued from somewhere behind it.
The Fog made the entire battlefield feel alive.
Hostile.
Smoke drifted between ruined buildings while flashes of gunfire appeared and vanished constantly through the haze. Soldiers fired toward shapes they barely saw while radio operators struggled to maintain coherent communication beneath overlapping screams, explosions, and static.
"South sector pinned down!"
"We need suppression fire near the ridge!"
"Humvee Three disabled!"
"Watch the tunnel entrance!"
The Geiger counters clicked constantly now.
Ticktickticktick.
Radiation spread through the outskirts from ruptured barrels, damaged reactors, and weapons fire around the old submarine perimeter. Mud mixed with ash and blood beneath soldiers' boots while fires continued spreading through shattered structures all around them.
The island itself felt poisoned.
One medic crouched beside a wounded gunner while checking his radiation exposure meter.
"You're spiking hard."
The man laughed weakly despite blood running down his sleeve.
"Everything's glowing."
"Not helping."
"No kidding."
Another explosion interrupted them as a Children mortar round detonated nearby, showering both soldiers with dirt and fragments.
The defenders still had indirect fire positions.
Even after the bombardment.
Mercer realized it almost simultaneously through the radio.
"They preserved interior mortar teams!"
A nearby artillery impact tore through a Humvee convoy lane before anyone could answer.
The vehicle flipped violently onto its side in flames while nearby infantry scrambled for cover beneath incoming shrapnel.
Children fighters emerged from concealed trench sectors immediately afterward trying to exploit the chaos.
"Hold the line!"
Ward shouted while leading reinforcements toward the breach.
The fighting became close-range after that.
Ugly close.
The soldiers and Children defenders crashing into each other through trenches, collapsed barricades, and burning alleyways where visibility barely stretched beyond a few meters.
Rifles fired point blank.
Bayonets appeared.
Pistols.
Knives.
Anything people could use once smoke and panic swallowed formation discipline completely.
One young recruit stumbled backward through mud after emptying his rifle into a charging cultist only to freeze seeing another defender already rushing him through the smoke carrying a hooked blade and screaming Atom prayers.
The recruit failed to reload fast enough.
Then the cultist dropped instantly from a shotgun blast that tore through his chest at almost touching distance.
The older soldier lowering the shotgun grabbed the recruit's vest immediately.
"MOVE!"
The kid stared at the dead cultist for half a second too long.
The veteran shoved him harder.
"Move or die!"
That finally got through.
Across the outskirts the Children of Atom kept sacrificing ground slowly but never cleanly.
Every destroyed barricade became another firing position.
Every collapsed structure became another ambush site.
Every trench line concealed defenders willing to stay there until buried beneath tank fire or grenades.
The artillery barrage had devastated their defenses.
It had not destroyed their resolve.
If anything, it had sharpened it into something terrifying.
One Sentinel advanced through a burning supply yard near the northern perimeter only for hidden cultists to emerge from underground maintenance tunnels carrying explosive charges.
"TRACK TEAM!"
The warning screamed across radio channels too late.
The explosion detonated beneath the tank's left side hard enough to cripple part of the track assembly and send the massive vehicle grinding sideways into rubble and smoke.
Children fighters immediately surged from the ruins around it firing radiation weapons and homemade explosives toward the damaged armor.
The Sentinel's turret still rotated though.
Still alive.
The cannon fired almost point blank into the charging defenders.
The explosion vaporized the front assault wave completely.
But more cultists kept coming through the smoke afterward.
Mercer watched the northern sector through binoculars from partial cover near a ruined barricade while bullets snapped overhead.
"They're trying to isolate the armor!"
Sico reloaded calmly beside him.
"Because they know the armor's winning us the advance."
Another burst of incoming fire struck the concrete beside them hard enough to spray fragments across their armor.
The Children understood battlefield tactics better than many expected.
Fanatics didn't mean stupid.
Many of these defenders had fought island wars for years.
Against raiders.
Against creatures from the Fog.
Against Brotherhood patrols.
Against each other.
And now against Far Harbor.
One Children sniper hidden somewhere inside the smoke-covered refinery ruins began targeting medics specifically.
Two evacuation teams went down within minutes.
After the third casualty, Ward redirected an entire rifle squad solely to hunt the sniper through the burning industrial sector.
The squad disappeared into the smoke.
Only four of the seven returned.
The sniper died eventually.
But not before costing more blood.
Every meter toward the Nucleus entrance demanded payment.
That truth settled across the battlefield fast.
The assault slowed gradually as resistance intensified near the deeper perimeter sectors surrounding the submarine approach roads.
The initial artillery damage mattered less here.
These defenses had survived mostly intact.
Concrete bunkers.
Reinforced trench networks.
Machine-gun nests hidden between radiation barriers and rock formations overlooking the final approach sectors leading toward the submarine base itself.
The Children had planned fallback positions.
Of course they had.
Sico crouched beside a shattered transport barrier while surveying the battlefield ahead through drifting smoke.
The outskirts behind them burned.
Bodies everywhere now.
Far Harbor soldiers.
Children defenders.
The wounded crying for medics beneath constant gunfire.
The dead lying motionless in crater water and ash.
The assault had already consumed horrifying numbers of people.
And they still hadn't breached the true Nucleus defenses yet.
A nearby rifleman wiped shaking hands against muddy combat armor while trying to reload.
"I thought the artillery would do more."
The older squad leader beside him checked the corner of the barricade before firing another controlled burst toward the trench sectors ahead.
"It did."
The younger man looked toward the surviving defenses through smoke and tracer fire.
"This is after it helped?"
The squad leader didn't answer immediately.
Because there wasn't a comforting answer available.
Eventually he muttered quietly:
"Yeah."
That silence said enough.
Near the eastern assault lane, Children defenders detonated pre-positioned fuel reserves as Far Harbor infantry pushed too close to a collapsed warehouse sector.
The fireball rolled through the battlefield violently, engulfing two squads in burning fuel and smoke while nearby soldiers screamed for extinguishers and medics.
The smell afterward turned stomachs instantly.
Burned fabric.
Burned metal.
Burned flesh.
War reduced human beings to terrible smells faster than people realized.
One medic vomited beside a trench wall before forcing herself back toward the wounded anyway.
There wasn't time to break down.
Not here.
Not now.
Above the battlefield, the Fog glowed orange from spreading fires while black smoke climbed slowly into gray skies already darkened by ash and radiation haze.
The Nucleus outskirts no longer resembled a settlement.
It looked like civilization collapsing in real time.
Still the Children of Atom fought.
Relentlessly.
One wounded cultist missing half his left arm continued firing a radiation pistol from behind a destroyed shrine until a Sentinel machine gun finally silenced him.
Another defender crawled through burning debris to activate an emergency alarm system deeper inside the perimeter before being shot repeatedly by advancing infantry.
The sirens continued anyway.
Echoing endlessly through the cliffs surrounding the submarine base.
Warning everyone deeper inside.
The invaders were here.
And they were not stopping.
Inside the Far Harbor assault lines, exhaustion already started appearing despite the battle still being young.
Adrenaline could only carry people so far.
The assault through the outskirts had become a grinding slaughter instead of the rapid breakthrough command hoped for after the artillery barrage.
Every position required clearing manually.
Every bunker fought until destroyed.
Every trench line bled them.
Mercer checked casualty reports through a mud-covered field tablet while crouched beside the damaged Sentinel.
His face hardened.
"We're losing momentum."
Sico looked toward the deeper defensive lines ahead.
Children machine guns continued firing from reinforced sectors near the inner approach roads while sniper fire harassed every attempt to advance infantry across open ground.
"Not yet," Sico answered.
But even he could see the problem.
The Children of Atom had absorbed the bombardment, reorganized through chaos, and now turned the outskirts into a defensive meat grinder.
The battle kept moving.
Slowly.
Violently.
Like two storms colliding headfirst inside the ruins of the island.
The outskirts of the Nucleus burned behind them now, entire sections swallowed beneath smoke and spreading fire while the assault force pushed deeper through shattered defensive corridors toward the submarine base hidden farther inside the cliffs.
But every meter forward cost blood.
The Children of Atom refused to break.
Even after the artillery.
Even after the Sentinels smashed through the outer barricades.
Even after trench systems collapsed around them and machine-gun nests vanished beneath tank fire.
They kept fighting.
Because this place was more than territory to them.
It was faith.
And faith made people terrifying.
Sico moved with the central assault line through the remains of a ruined maintenance sector while bullets snapped overhead and tracer fire cut through the smoke drifting between broken concrete walls.
"Move!"
Ward shouted farther ahead while directing another squad toward partial cover behind a collapsed transport container.
"Keep pressure on them!"
The soldiers obeyed immediately despite exhaustion beginning to drag at every movement now.
Armor felt heavier.
Rifles heavier.
Breathing harder.
The adrenaline from the initial assault had started fading, replaced by the uglier reality underneath battle.
Fatigue.
Pain.
Fear settling into bones instead of racing through veins.
Ahead, the deeper Nucleus defenses continued firing from hardened positions hidden among rock formations and reinforced bunker lines overlooking the inner approach roads.
The Children had transformed the terrain itself into a fortress.
Machine guns flashed from concealed firing slits carved directly into stone walls.
Snipers repositioned constantly through maintenance tunnels and elevated refinery structures.
Mortar teams continued shelling advancing infantry from hidden sectors deeper inside the cliffs.
And worst of all, they knew exactly where to force the attackers into kill zones.
A squad tried crossing an open roadway toward a damaged bunker line near the western ridge.
The moment they moved, automatic fire erupted from three separate angles simultaneously.
Two soldiers went down instantly.
Another collapsed screaming after a radiation round tore through his thigh.
The rest dove behind broken pavement while bullets sparked against concrete around them.
"Pinned!"
"Smoke out!"
Grenades rolled through the battlefield.
White smoke exploded outward.
Then more gunfire immediately shredded through it.
The Children didn't care about visibility.
They already knew the terrain by memory.
One cultist emerged briefly from behind a shattered radiation shrine carrying an old military rifle wrapped in Atom prayer cloth before firing twice toward the trapped infantry squad.
A sniper round from somewhere behind Sico dropped him a second later.
Another defender replaced him almost immediately.
The fighting never stopped long enough for silence anymore.
Never long enough for anyone to think clearly.
Just noise.
Explosions.
Static.
Screaming radios.
Somewhere nearby, one of the damaged Humvees burned beside a crater while medics dragged wounded soldiers away from the wreckage beneath covering fire from rifle teams positioned behind chunks of collapsed concrete.
One medic pressed both hands against a soldier's stomach wound while blood soaked through her gloves almost instantly.
"Stay awake!"
The wounded man's breathing hitched violently.
"I can't feel my legs."
"Look at me!"
Another explosion shook the road hard enough to shower them with dirt and ash.
The medic flinched but never moved away from him.
Nearby, another squad advanced behind the lead Sentinel while the massive armored vehicle hammered bunker sectors with cannon fire that rattled the cliffs themselves.
BOOM.
The shell smashed directly into a reinforced firing position overlooking the central road.
Concrete exploded outward.
Smoke.
Fire.
Bodies thrown sideways through debris.
For one brief moment, the defensive fire from that position stopped.
"Push!"
Ward screamed.
The infantry surged forward through smoke and rubble.
And immediately the Children answered again.
Heavy gunfire erupted from a second concealed trench network farther behind the destroyed bunker, forcing the advancing soldiers flat against crater edges and broken stone.
"They've got fallback lines everywhere!"
Mercer shouted through the comms from the northern sector.
Because of course they did.
The Children of Atom had spent years preparing this place for invasion.
Every destroyed position only funneled attackers toward another defensive layer.
Another kill zone.
Another line of fanatics willing to die.
Sico crouched behind the remains of a blasted transport truck while checking the battlefield ahead through drifting smoke.
The assault force was still advancing.
Barely.
Slowly grinding the Children backward meter by meter through sheer pressure and armored firepower.
But the cost kept climbing.
Soldiers lay scattered across the ruined outskirts now beside Children defenders in muddy crater water stained dark with blood and ash.
The wounded filled every temporary cover position behind the assault lanes.
Medics worked nonstop.
Some already looked numb.
Past fear.
Past horror.
Functioning entirely on instinct.
Then the Geiger counters started screaming louder.
Not clicking anymore.
Screaming.
Ticktickticktickticktick.
One infantryman glanced at the meter attached to his chest rig.
"What the hell—?"
Another soldier nearby looked toward the cliffs ahead.
Green smoke drifted slowly through the battlefield.
Not natural smoke.
Radiation dispersal.
The Children were weaponizing the environment now.
Ward realized it first.
"They're venting radiation!"
A burst of static hit the radios while more green-tinted vapor spread outward from ruptured pipes and damaged containment tanks positioned around the inner perimeter sectors.
The Children defenders retreated backward through it without hesitation.
Because they were used to this.
Raised in it.
Worshipped it.
But the Far Harbor assault force wasn't.
One young recruit near the southern approach suddenly dropped to one knee coughing violently while clutching at his throat.
His Geiger counter shrieked against his armor.
Another soldier nearby vomited inside the mud beside a crater.
"Radiation spike!"
The warning spread fast through the assault lines.
Children fighters immediately intensified their attacks from inside the contaminated sectors.
Smart.
They knew the advancing soldiers would hesitate.
Would slow.
Would panic.
One cultist screamed Atom prayers while firing through the glowing haze with skin already visibly burned from radiation exposure.
Another group emerged from behind leaking barrels throwing makeshift irradiated explosives toward advancing infantry positions.
Green fire flashed across the battlefield.
The Geiger counters became constant screaming static.
Sico grabbed the radio immediately.
"All units!"
Gunfire cracked nearby while he spoke.
"Gas masks on now!"
The order spread across every channel instantly.
"MASKS ON!"
"Seal filters!"
"Check exposure levels!"
Across the battlefield, Far Harbor soldiers scrambled to pull protective masks over mud-covered faces while incoming rounds snapped through smoke and radiation haze around them.
Some already had masks hanging from their armor.
Others fumbled shaking hands through equipment pouches trying to secure filters fast enough.
One medic helped a wounded rifleman pull his mask into place before sealing her own.
Another soldier cursed loudly while tightening the straps against his helmet.
The world changed immediately once the masks sealed.
Breathing became mechanical.
Harsh.
Every inhale loud inside rubber filters.
Every exhale fogging the inside lenses slightly while gunfire echoed strangely through the mask systems.
Claustrophobic.
But necessary.
Sico checked his own Geiger counter clipped against his armor.
The needle kept climbing.
Not lethal yet.
But dangerous.
Especially prolonged exposure.
"Monitor your counters constantly," he ordered through the comms.
"Rotate anybody spiking too high toward rear medical positions."
One squad leader answered through heavy static.
"Children are using the radiation clouds as cover!"
Of course they were.
The glowing haze rolling across the battlefield concealed movement almost perfectly through the smoke and Fog.
Children fighters emerged from it like ghosts.
Firing.
Screaming prayers.
Then disappearing again before infantry could target them properly.
One Sentinel machine gun tore through several shapes moving inside the contaminated mist only for another wave of cultists to appear moments later from a different direction entirely.
"They're flanking through the hot zones!"
A Humvee gunner opened fire into the glowing haze while coughing inside his mask.
Tracer rounds vanished into green smoke.
Then return fire answered from three directions at once.
The Children had turned radiation itself into terrain.
One Far Harbor rifle squad attempted pushing through a contaminated alley sector near the eastern refinery wall only for two soldiers' Geiger counters to spike violently within seconds.
"Too hot!"
The squad pulled back immediately while Children snipers fired from somewhere deeper inside the radioactive cloud.
One bullet punched directly through a soldier's shoulder, spinning him against the wall.
"Medic!"
The medic reached him fast.
Too fast maybe.
Because another sniper round struck the concrete inches from her head while she dragged the wounded man toward cover.
"Move move move!"
Everywhere across the battlefield the same pattern repeated.
Advance.
Firefight.
Radiation surge.
Children counterattack.
Then another bloody push deeper toward the Nucleus.
Still the assault force slowly gained ground.
Not because the Children weakened.
Because the Sentinels refused to stop.
The armored beasts pushed relentlessly through burning trench systems and contaminated kill zones while their heavy weapons blasted apart bunker sectors that infantry alone never could've breached.
One Sentinel rolled directly through a leaking radiation trench while Geiger counters screamed around it.
The crew inside didn't slow.
Its cannon fired into a fortified bunker entrance hidden among the cliffs ahead.
BOOM.
The entire rock face collapsed inward beneath smoke and debris.
Far Harbor infantry immediately surged behind the armor before the Children defenders inside could recover.
Close-range fighting erupted almost instantly inside the ruined bunker approach.
Shotguns.
Pistols.
Knife strikes in smoke so thick soldiers could barely recognize faces before killing each other.
One Children defender tackled a rifleman directly into the mud screaming Atom scripture while trying to drive a sharpened metal spike into his throat.
The rifleman blocked it barely.
Then another Far Harbor soldier shot the cultist at almost point-blank range.
Nobody even paused afterward.
Too much happening.
Too many people dying simultaneously.
Sico moved through the advancing line checking positions while issuing orders between bursts of incoming fire.
"Rotate second platoon left."
"Keep medics behind armor cover."
"Watch the tunnels!"
The tunnels.
That became another nightmare quickly.
Children fighters used underground maintenance passages beneath the Nucleus outskirts to reposition around advancing infantry constantly.
One squad secured a trench sector only for armed cultists to suddenly emerge behind them from a drainage tunnel hidden beneath debris.
The ambush turned brutal immediately.
Automatic fire erupted at nearly touching distance.
A soldier barely managed to shout warning before a radiation grenade detonated inside the trench line in a flash of green light and screaming Geiger counters.
Ward led the response personally.
He and several infantrymen stormed the tunnel entrance through smoke and blood while the battle above continued raging around them.
The gunfire underground sounded muffled.
Ugly.
Then a grenade explosion shook the tunnel mouth hard enough to spray dust and blood outward across the trench.
Ward eventually reemerged breathing heavily through his gas mask visor splattered with mud and red streaks.
"Tunnel's clear."
One of the soldiers behind him looked pale even beneath the mask lenses.
"There were kids down there."
Ward didn't answer.
Couldn't maybe.
Because the Children used everyone.
Families.
Teenagers.
Elderly believers clutching old rifles beside hardened fighters.
The battlefield blurred those lines fast.
Too fast.
By midday the assault force had pushed nearly halfway through the outer Nucleus sectors.
The progress showed physically now.
Destroyed Children barricades.
Collapsed bunker lines.
Burning defensive positions.
But so did the cost.
Far Harbor casualties continued climbing steadily as the defenders refused to surrender any ground cleanly.
Every retreat became another trap.
Every silence another ambush waiting through smoke or radioactive haze.
One exhausted rifleman leaned against a shattered wall while rechecking his Geiger counter for maybe the twentieth time.
The needle trembled inside dangerous territory now.
"How bad?"
The medic beside him glanced at the reading.
"Not fatal yet."
"Comforting."
"Take another suppressant."
The man injected the anti-radiation chemical into his arm without argument.
Nearby, another soldier removed his gas mask briefly to vomit before sealing it again immediately.
His hands shook afterward.
Whether from radiation sickness or fear was impossible to tell.
Probably both.
Ahead, deeper inside the Nucleus perimeter, sirens continued echoing endlessly through the cliffs and industrial ruins surrounding the submarine base.
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• 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:-