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Chapter 1003 - 934. DiMA Memories

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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)

...

And compared to the ghosts sleeping inside the submarine, that future seemed far more important than anything hidden within the launch terminal.

The following morning began much like the others.

Fog drifted across the coastline.

Workers headed toward construction projects.

Farmers moved into the fields.

Guards changed shifts atop the walls.

The settlement woke beneath another gray Far Harbor sky.

But while most of the Republic focused on building the future, Sico found himself thinking about the past.

Specifically, a conversation he had almost forgotten.

Not because it wasn't important.

Because everything else had demanded immediate attention.

Battles.

Construction.

Security.

The Nucleus.

The submarine.

The Republic.

All of it had occupied his attention for weeks.

Yet one unfinished matter remained.

Kasumi.

And DiMA's memories.

The request she had made before everything changed.

The request to learn the truth.

Now that the Nucleus was secure and the immediate crises had passed, Sico finally had the time to investigate.

So shortly after sunrise he entered the mountain once again.

This time alone.

Mostly.

Two soldiers followed at a distance for security reasons.

But the actual investigation belonged to him.

The information concerned DiMA.

Acadia.

The island.

And potentially secrets nobody else had uncovered.

The lower sections of the Nucleus were far quieter than the upper levels.

Most personnel rarely had reasons to visit them.

The deeper Sico traveled, the more the atmosphere changed.

The renovated military sections disappeared.

The clean corridors disappeared.

The organized checkpoints disappeared.

Instead he found himself walking through older parts of the facility.

Sections largely untouched by the recent renovations.

Places where the history of the mountain still lingered.

The lighting became dimmer.

The air colder.

The silence heavier.

Eventually he reached a section of rock wall that appeared almost natural.

Almost.

A closer look revealed signs of excavation.

Tools marks.

Support beams.

Reinforced sections.

Someone had carved a path through the stone long ago.

A hidden route.

One that most people would easily overlook.

Sico switched on his flashlight.

The beam illuminated a rocky tunnel extending into darkness.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

He stepped forward.

The tunnel twisted naturally through the mountain.

Not perfectly straight.

Not neatly engineered.

More like something adapted over time.

The deeper he moved, the more obvious it became that this wasn't a normal maintenance route.

This place had been hidden deliberately.

Then he spotted the first turret.

Mounted on the wall near a bend in the tunnel.

Its sensors remained dark.

Inactive.

Dust covered portions of its casing.

The weapon still looked dangerous despite years of neglect.

Sico approached carefully.

The machine remained silent.

Dead.

Or at least powered down.

He studied it briefly before continuing.

The tunnel curved left.

Several meters farther ahead another wall-mounted turret became visible.

This one positioned to cover the next approach.

A layered defense.

Thoughtfully designed.

Whoever built the security measures here had expected intruders.

Expected them enough to install automated weapons throughout the route.

Beyond the second turret sat something even more interesting.

A Mister Gutsy.

The military robot floated motionless in the center of the passage.

Or rather, it would have floated if it still possessed power.

Instead it hung partially tilted against a wall support.

Dark.

Inactive.

Its weapons remained attached.

Its armor scarred.

Its optical sensors lifeless.

The robot looked like a frozen soldier abandoned centuries ago.

Sico circled it slowly.

No response.

No movement.

Nothing.

The machine had been deactivated for a very long time.

One of the accompanying soldiers glanced at it.

"I don't miss fighting those."

"Neither do I."

The soldier nodded immediately.

Everyone who had encountered a functioning Mister Gutsy shared similar opinions.

Most of those opinions involved explosives.

The tunnel continued deeper.

Gradually signs of a facility began appearing again.

Power conduits.

Maintenance panels.

Support structures.

Eventually the rocky passage opened into a larger section.

The first thing Sico noticed was a terminal mounted beside a wall.

An old facility announcement terminal.

Its screen flickered weakly.

Still functioning.

Barely.

Nearby stood what had once been a canteen.

Tables.

Benches.

Storage lockers.

A serving counter.

Everything coated with dust.

Time had transformed the room into a snapshot frozen forever.

As if workers had simply stood up one day and never returned.

A deactivate Protectron stood near one corner.

The robot remained perfectly still.

Its cylindrical body covered in grime.

Its metal frame scarred by age.

Like the Mister Gutsy earlier, it appeared completely inactive.

Still, Sico kept his distance.

Experience had taught everyone a valuable lesson.

Assume every robot is harmless.

Then prepare for disappointment.

The canteen felt strangely eerie.

Not because it was dangerous.

Because it was normal.

Ordinary.

Human.

People had eaten meals here.

Shared conversations.

Complained about work.

Talked about families.

Laughed.

Lived.

Then the world ended.

Now only silence remained.

One soldier looked around.

"Creepy."

Sico nodded.

Not because of ghosts.

Because of absence.

Sometimes absence felt heavier than death.

Past the canteen, a staircase led upward.

The steps disappeared into another tunnel.

Long.

Straight.

Narrow.

The farther they walked, the quieter everything became.

Even their footsteps sounded muted.

The mountain seemed to swallow noise.

Eventually the passage opened into another chamber.

And immediately everyone stopped.

Several robots occupied the room.

Protectrons.

Maintenance units.

Security models.

Most appeared inactive.

Most.

The distinction mattered.

Because in places like this, "most" wasn't always reassuring.

Two wall-mounted turrets overlooked the area.

Their barrels remained motionless.

For now.

Sico carefully surveyed the room.

The robots showed no signs of activation.

No movement.

No warning lights.

Nothing.

Still, he kept his weapon ready.

Old facilities had a habit of becoming dangerous without warning.

The room itself appeared important.

Not large.

But secure.

Purposeful.

There was only one obvious path forward.

A heavy security door.

Closed.

Locked.

Protected.

Beside it sat a command center access terminal.

Nearby rested an old storage trunk.

Opposite the security door stood another exit leading toward upper catwalks overlooking parts of the Nucleus.

The location immediately felt significant.

Like a checkpoint protecting something valuable.

Or something dangerous.

Perhaps both.

Sico approached the terminal.

The screen flickered to life.

Text scrolled across the display.

Access records.

Security designations.

Authorization requirements.

Command Center.

The words immediately caught his attention.

Command Center.

More importantly, memory storage.

DiMA.

Suddenly pieces began connecting.

Kasumi's request.

DiMA's hidden secrets.

The missing memories.

Everything pointed here.

This was the place.

The location where DiMA had hidden portions of his own mind.

The location Kasumi had wanted investigated.

For a moment Sico simply stared at the terminal.

Weeks earlier this mystery had seemed important.

Now, after battles and wars and rebuilding an entire settlement, it almost felt distant.

Yet it remained unfinished.

And unfinished matters had a habit of causing problems later.

Behind him one of the soldiers frowned.

"You think this is it?"

"Yes."

The soldier looked toward the sealed door.

"Looks like somebody didn't want visitors."

That was putting it mildly.

Sico began searching the area.

The terminal alone wasn't enough.

Something had to power the security systems.

Something controlled access.

Eventually he spotted it.

A power switch mounted on the rear wall of a secured cage behind the terminal console.

Hidden.

Not invisible.

But deliberately placed.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

The arrangement suggested a manual override.

A backup system.

Perhaps the only way inside.

Sico approached carefully.

The cage door hung partially open.

Time and neglect had damaged the locking mechanism.

Inside, the switch remained intact.

Dust covered its metal housing.

Nobody had touched it in years.

Maybe centuries.

One soldier looked uncertain.

"I've got a bad feeling about this."

The other soldier nodded.

"Same."

Sico reached toward the switch.

Nothing happened.

Yet.

The silence somehow felt worse.

Then he pulled it.

CLUNK.

The sound echoed through the chamber.

For half a second nothing happened.

Then everything happened.

A deafening alarm exploded throughout the facility.

Red warning lights flashed instantly.

Emergency sirens began screaming through the corridors.

The sudden noise startled everyone.

"What the hell?!"

The alarm echoed through the tunnel system.

Warning lights illuminated walls.

Robots.

Terminals.

Everything.

The room transformed from silent ruin into active security zone in an instant.

And then came another sound.

A mechanical hiss.

Followed by heavy metallic movement.

Everyone turned.

The sealed security door to the south had opened.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

Like something waking up.

Red warning lights spilled through the doorway.

A silhouette appeared.

Tall.

Thin.

Deadly.

The shape stepped forward.

Assaultron.

The moment its optical sensors ignited crimson, every soldier in the room immediately recognized the danger.

"Oh no."

The robot's head rotated toward them.

Its movements were smooth.

Almost graceful.

Which somehow made it more unsettling.

Unlike Protectrons.

Unlike Mister Gutsies.

Assaultrons didn't lumber.

They hunted.

The machine's voice emerged cold and emotionless.

"Unauthorized personnel detected."

The red eye brightened.

"Initiating security response."

The soldiers raised their weapons instantly.

Sico already had his rifle up.

The Assaultron moved first.

Faster than any human.

The machine launched itself across the room.

Metal feet slammed against the floor.

The distance vanished almost instantly.

"Contact!"

Gunfire erupted.

Muzzle flashes illuminated the chamber.

Rounds struck the robot's armor.

Sparks exploded from its frame.

Yet the machine barely slowed.

The Assaultron crashed into a table and hurled it aside as if it weighed nothing.

Metal screeched.

Furniture shattered.

The robot kept coming.

One soldier dove sideways as the Assaultron's blade-like arm slashed through the space where his torso had been moments earlier.

The strike carved a deep groove into the wall.

"Move!"

The chamber descended into chaos.

Gunfire.

Alarms.

Screaming metal.

The Assaultron twisted with terrifying speed.

Its head began charging.

Everyone saw it.

Everyone knew exactly what came next.

"Sico!"

The crimson glow intensified.

The laser.

The weapon responsible for countless deaths across the wasteland.

The glow became brighter.

Brighter.

Brighter, then Sico fired.

One precise shot.

The round struck the robot's head assembly.

The charging beam flickered violently.

The laser discharged prematurely.

The blast slammed harmlessly into the ceiling.

Concrete exploded overhead.

Debris rained down.

The Assaultron staggered.

Only briefly.

But briefly was enough.

The soldiers concentrated their fire.

Bullets hammered the damaged head unit.

Sparks erupted.

Components shattered.

The robot lunged again.

Still fighting.

Still dangerous.

Still refusing to die.

Its damaged leg finally gave way under sustained fire.

The machine stumbled.

Then crashed into the floor.

Even then it continued trying to rise.

Relentless.

Determined.

Terrifying.

Sico advanced.

Aimed carefully.

And fired directly into the exposed central processor.

The chamber fell silent.

The Assaultron twitched once.

Twice.

Then stopped moving.

Completely.

Dead.

The alarm continued screaming overhead.

Nobody spoke for several seconds.

Mostly because everyone was catching their breath.

One soldier finally looked at the wreckage.

"I hate those things."

The other immediately nodded.

"Everyone hates those things."

Even Sico couldn't disagree.

The destroyed robot lay motionless amid scattered debris.

Smoke rose from shattered components.

Sparks flickered across damaged circuits.

Whatever had guarded DiMA's hidden command center was gone now.

The destroyed Assaultron lay motionless in the center of the room.

Smoke drifted from shattered armor plating.

Damaged circuits sparked intermittently.

The smell of burnt electronics lingered heavily in the air.

Above them, the alarm continued blaring through hidden speakers.

Red emergency lights flashed across walls, terminals, and inactive robots.

For several seconds nobody moved.

Everyone was simply recovering from the sudden violence.

One of the soldiers finally broke the silence.

"I really, really hate this place."

The other nodded immediately.

"Agreed."

Neither statement received any argument.

Sico lowered his rifle and stepped toward the terminal beside the security door.

If the Assaultron had been the first layer of security, there would almost certainly be more waiting beyond.

DiMA hadn't hidden his memories somewhere easy to access.

That much was obvious.

The screen flickered beneath layers of warning messages.

SECURITY BREACH DETECTED.

UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS.

LOCKDOWN ACTIVE.

The terminal remained functional despite centuries of neglect.

Whoever designed the system had built it well.

Very well.

Sico began working through the interface.

Lines of code scrolled across the screen.

Security prompts appeared.

Authentication checks followed.

The old operating system fought back at every step.

Fortunately, it wasn't fighting someone unfamiliar with pre-war technology.

Minutes passed.

The soldiers kept watch while he worked.

Occasionally the terminal rejected an attempt.

Occasionally another security layer appeared.

Each one required patience.

Each one required careful attention.

Eventually one of the soldiers glanced toward the door.

"Any luck?"

Sico didn't answer immediately.

His focus remained on the screen.

Another sequence.

Another override.

Another security bypass.

Then.

ACCESS GRANTED.

The message appeared abruptly.

A loud mechanical clunk echoed from somewhere inside the wall.

The heavy security door unlocked.

The alarm immediately stopped.

The silence felt almost shocking after the constant noise.

Red lights ceased flashing.

The room settled into stillness once again.

One soldier exhaled.

"That alarm was driving me insane."

The other nodded.

"I was about five minutes away from shooting the speaker."

Sico stepped away from the terminal.

The massive security door slowly slid open.

Cold air drifted outward from the darkness beyond.

The hidden command center had finally revealed itself.

The room beyond looked different from everything else inside the Nucleus.

Cleaner.

More advanced.

More deliberate.

This wasn't simply another maintenance facility.

This was DiMA's sanctuary.

His private refuge.

The place where he had hidden pieces of himself from the world.

Several inactive terminals lined the walls.

Data storage systems occupied entire sections of the chamber.

Cables ran across floors and ceilings.

Banks of equipment hummed quietly.

Somehow, despite the passage of more than two centuries since the Great War and years of use afterward, much of the technology remained operational.

The center of the room was dominated by a large memory interface terminal.

Immediately recognizable.

Immediately important.

One of the soldiers looked around uneasily.

"So this is where he hid everything."

"Looks that way."

The second soldier examined one of the terminals.

"Why hide your own memories?"

Nobody answered.

Because that question sat at the heart of the entire mystery.

Why would someone deliberately remove pieces of their own mind?

What memories were dangerous enough to bury?

What secrets were important enough to erase?

Sico intended to find out.

He turned toward the soldiers.

"Stay here."

Both men looked at him.

"What?"

"Guard the entrance."

The first soldier frowned.

"You're going in alone?"

"Yes."

The second soldier glanced around the room.

"That's never reassuring."

Sico ignored the comment.

"If anything activates, nobody enters until I return."

The soldiers exchanged looks.

Neither appeared particularly happy about the arrangement.

But both understood.

This wasn't really a military operation anymore.

It was an investigation.

A personal one.

A search for answers.

Finally the older of the two nodded.

"We'll hold the door."

"Good."

With that settled, Sico approached the central terminal.

The machine sat quietly beneath dim overhead lights.

Waiting.

Much like the submarine terminal yesterday.

But this felt different.

The submarine represented the old world's destruction.

This represented DiMA's secrets.

The unknown.

He placed a hand against the interface.

The screen immediately came alive.

Data flooded across the display.

Memory archives.

Storage partitions.

Security protocols.

Encrypted files.

The system recognized unauthorized access instantly.

Several warning messages appeared.

MEMORY VAULT SECURED.

INDEXER AUTHORIZATION REQUIRED.

INTRUSION COUNTERMEASURES ACTIVE.

Sico narrowed his eyes.

Of course it wouldn't be simple.

Nothing involving DiMA ever seemed simple.

The terminal prompted another sequence.

A memory access protocol.

Virtual reconstruction environment initialization.

Digital architecture loading.

The screen brightened.

Then everything disappeared.

The world changed.

One moment Sico stood inside the command center.

The next he found himself somewhere else entirely.

Not physically.

Virtually.

A simulation.

A digital environment.

A strange landscape assembled from fragments of code and memory.

The sky appeared black.

Not nighttime black.

Empty black.

The blackness of an unfinished world.

The ground beneath his feet glowed faintly with blue-white energy.

Structures floated impossibly in the distance.

Platforms hung suspended over nothingness.

Geometric shapes drifted through the air.

The environment looked less like a place and more like a thought given physical form.

For a moment he simply observed.

Trying to understand what he was seeing.

Then a voice echoed around him.

Artificial.

Calm.

Emotionless.

"Memory retrieval sequence initialized."

More structures appeared.

Pathways.

Barriers.

Data streams.

The architecture of DiMA's mind.

Or at least a representation of it.

The challenge became obvious quickly.

The memories weren't simply stored.

They were protected.

Hidden behind layers of security.

To access them, he would need to guide indexers through the digital environment while avoiding or circumventing intrusion countermeasures.

A maze.

A puzzle.

A fortress built from information rather than concrete.

The kind of thing DiMA would create.

Complicated.

Elegant.

Infuriating.

Hours seemed to pass.

Though time inside the simulation felt strange.

Difficult to measure.

Sico moved through one digital structure after another.

Guiding data indexers toward memory archives.

Opening pathways.

Removing obstacles.

Unlocking security blocks.

The virtual world constantly shifted around him.

Some sections resembled bridges suspended over endless darkness.

Others looked like floating fortresses constructed from glowing code.

Security programs appeared periodically.

Sentry countermeasures.

Automated defenses designed to prevent unauthorized access.

They patrolled pathways.

Blocked routes.

Attempted to isolate memory fragments from retrieval systems.

Each obstacle required a solution.

Sometimes patience.

Sometimes careful timing.

Sometimes exploiting weaknesses within the architecture itself.

The process became a battle of logic rather than firepower.

A conflict fought through systems and pathways rather than bullets and armor.

And gradually—

Slowly—

The memories began unlocking.

One archive after another.

One hidden section after another.

DiMA had buried them deeply.

But not deeply enough.

The first memory fragment opened.

Then another.

Then another.

Each revealing pieces of a larger picture.

Pieces of DiMA's past.

Pieces of decisions he wished forgotten.

Pieces of truths he couldn't bring himself to destroy entirely.

Because despite hiding them, part of him had wanted someone to find them eventually.

Otherwise he would have erased them completely.

Finally, after navigating the final layer of security, the largest archive opened.

The digital environment trembled.

Data streams surged across the simulated sky.

The memory vault unlocked.

The final barriers dissolved.

Information flooded into view.

Coordinates.

Locations.

Records.

Hidden facilities.

Secrets.

The kind of secrets DiMA had spent years protecting.

A new notification appeared before him.

MEMORY RECOVERY COMPLETE.

ADDITIONAL INVESTIGATION SITES IDENTIFIED.

Several location markers materialized.

The first immediately caught his attention.

A hidden medical facility.

Location: Vim! Pop Factory.

Sico stared at the information.

The famous factory sat elsewhere on the island.

Abandoned.

Forgotten.

At least officially.

Yet according to DiMA's recovered memories, something existed beneath it.

Something important enough to hide.

Medical records accompanied the coordinates.

References to experiments.

Medical procedures.

Confidential activities.

The information remained incomplete.

But it was enough.

Enough to justify an investigation.

Enough to raise new questions.

The digital interface continued processing recovered data.

Additional files waited beyond.

Additional secrets.

Additional locations.

But one thing had become clear.

Kasumi had been right.

DiMA had hidden far more than simple memories.

He had hidden entire operations.

Entire facilities.

Entire truths.

And now those truths were beginning to surface.

Back in the real world, the command center remained quiet.

The two soldiers continued guarding the entrance.

Occasionally one glanced toward the terminal where Sico remained connected.

Neither disturbed him.

Neither interrupted.

They simply waited.

Outside the hidden facility, life continued across the island.

Farmers tended crops.

Engineers finished projects.

Guards manned towers.

The Republic continued building a future.

Unaware that beneath the mountain, another mystery was unfolding.

One tied not to the Children of Atom.

Not to the Nucleus.

Not even to the Republic.

But to DiMA.

And to secrets buried across the Island.

Secrets that were finally beginning to emerge from the shadows.

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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:-

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