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Danse allowed himself a rare moment of relief. For the first time since leaving Sanctuary, he felt the faintest flicker of hope. The plan was in motion. The deception held. And for the first time, the Freemasons Republic had a chance to turn the tide — even if it meant betraying everything the Brotherhood believed in.
The evening light slanted through the high windows of the Freemasons Republic Headquarters, painting long amber lines across the polished marble of Sico's office. The city outside was quiet, unnervingly so. From his desk, Sico could see the faint motion of sentries patrolling the courtyard below, their armor catching glints of torchlight as they moved in slow, disciplined circuits. The city beyond those walls — Sanctuary's heart — was alive in its usual rhythm: merchants closing their stalls, farmers returning from the fields, engineers pulling late shifts at the power station. But in this room, the world felt very still.
A low hum came from the radio console at the edge of his desk, the radio transmitter, modified and shielded against Brotherhood frequency scans. Its dials glowed a dull orange, the static faint but persistent. Sico leaned back in his chair, a faint trail of smoke curling from the cigarette between his fingers. His eyes were half-lidded, reflecting both weariness and calculation.
The last few hour had been a blur of movement from organizing the transport convoys, securing the trade routes, dispatching scouts to the outer borders. The Republic was holding strong, but the pressure from the Brotherhood's movements near Lexington had begun to draw closer. Even Cait's reports, always laced with her particular brand of swagger, carried the hint of concern. Especially yesterday, when they has to bomb their tower transmitter so that Danse dan be fully trusted when he return to Brotherhood.
Then the radio crackled. A burst of static broke the stillness, followed by a familiar voice with a sharp, steady, and unmistakably precise.
"Freemason Command, this is Li. Do you copy? Over."
Sico set the cigarette in the tray and straightened. "This is Sico. I read you loud and clear, Li. Go ahead."
There was a pause, then her voice returned, clearer now. "Danse made contact. We spoke earlier this evening at Boston Airport. He's begun coordinating with me as planned — reaching out to the Brotherhood members who've grown… disillusioned with Maxson's vision."
Sico allowed himself a faint nod, though she couldn't see it. "Good," he murmured. "And his position?"
"He's still secure aboard the Prydwen for now," Li replied. "No suspicion yet. He's moving carefully, keeping things quiet. He's identified at least six Paladins and a handful of Knights who may be sympathetic — the ones who've questioned orders during the last campaigns. He'll approach them gradually. Nothing overt."
Sico smiled faintly, more exhale than expression. "Danse was always a man of patience. He knows how to play the long game."
There was a small click of a switch on her end, followed by a shift in tone — the faint hum of machinery behind her voice. "As for Liberty Prime," she continued, "we're almost there. The system rebuild is ninety percent complete. I've rewritten the entire command structure — he's coded to recognize the Freemasons Republic as a formal ally. When activated, Prime will receive orders directly from you or me. No one else."
Sico's hand rested lightly against the desk. The weight of her words sank deep. Liberty Prime as the last remnant of pre-war military supremacy, will reborn under Freemason command. That single machine could shift the balance of the Commonwealth in one sweep. Not as a weapon of destruction, but as a deterrent so absolute that even the Brotherhood would think twice.
"You've done well, Li," he said, his voice quieter now, but steady. "That was the most delicate part of the plan. You're certain the code's secure?"
"As secure as it can be," she replied. "I had to reconfigure several layers of Prime's behavioral matrix with remove the Brotherhood authorization keys, rewrite the subroutines that tied him to Maxson's tactical network. He won't respond to their command frequency anymore. His loyalty's locked to our encryption. Once the power systems are online, we'll run a full diagnostic and confirm it."
Sico leaned back again, his gaze lifting toward the tall windows. Outside, the evening was deepening into night, the stars emerging faintly through the haze. His reflection in the glass was faint but resolute — the faint glimmer of someone who had built something worth defending.
"Who's handling the power systems?" he asked finally.
"Proctor Ingram," Li said. "She's cautious, but capable. I think she suspects something — maybe not the full scope, but she's aware we're not following standard Brotherhood protocol. Still, she's pragmatic. Her loyalty lies more with technology than ideology. If she thinks this project ensures Prime's stability, she'll follow through."
"That's enough," Sico said softly. "Keep her close, but don't let her see too much. When the time comes, we'll make her an offer she can't refuse."
There was a small pause — a brief silence in which the faint hum of machinery filled the air again. Then Li spoke, her tone more measured now, more personal.
"How's the Republic holding up, Sico? I've been hearing chatter from the east. The Brotherhood's been moving small squads along the river. Nothing big yet, but…"
"They're testing us," Sico interrupted calmly. "Probing the perimeter, gauging our response time. Cait's been holding the line at Minutemen Plaza. Preston's coordinating the northern patrols. We've fortified the riverbank and reinforced the watchtowers. If the Brotherhood wants a fight, they'll find one. But I'd rather avoid that, at least until Liberty Prime is fully under our control."
"I understand," Li replied. "Just be careful. If they pick up our frequency link again, they'll start asking questions. Especially if they realize I'm working outside their chain of command."
Sico's voice dropped slightly, soft but edged. "If that happens, you go dark. No transmissions, no movements. Danse will cover your trail. The Republic can't afford to lose you, Li — not when we're this close."
There was a quiet exhale on her end, something like a dry chuckle. "You've changed, Commander. You sound less like a soldier these days and more like… a builder."
Sico allowed himself a faint smile. "Builders make better worlds. Soldiers only protect the ones someone else built."
Another pause, softer this time. Then Li's tone shifted back to business. "I'll contact you again once the power matrix is complete. That'll take a few days, maybe less if Proctor Ingram pushes her engineers. Once Prime's operational, I'll run the final alignment and sync him to our command hub. After that, it's up to you how we use him."
Sico nodded to himself, staring down at the radio as if his gaze could travel through the static and reach her. "Understood. You've done more than enough, Li. Stay sharp, and keep Danse informed. Once the first wave of defectors reaches Sanctuary, we'll begin integrating them quietly — one team at a time. They'll have food, housing, and security. We'll treat them like brothers, not prisoners."
"You think Maxson will just let them go?" she asked.
"No," Sico replied, his tone hardening slightly. "But by the time he realizes what's happening, it'll be too late. His command will be fractured. His faith in the Brotherhood's unity — broken. And when he looks east, he'll see a Republic standing tall where his arrogance told him there was only ruin."
The radio went silent for a moment, the static returning like a faint whisper of ghosts. Then Li's voice came through one last time, lower now, almost a whisper.
"We're on the edge of something huge, Sico. Either history remembers us as visionaries… or traitors."
Sico looked out the window again, the reflection of his face overlaying the distant lights of Sanctuary. "History remembers survivors, Li. The rest are just footnotes."
"Understood," she said softly. "Li out."
The line went dead, leaving only the faint hiss of the radio and the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. Sico sat there for a long while, unmoving, staring at the dull glow of the transmitter as the silence thickened around him. Then, slowly, he reached forward, turned the radio off, and exhaled.
The heavy silence in Sico's office lingered long after the radio went dead. The faint ticking of the wall clock filled the room like a slow heartbeat, each sound a reminder of how fragile moments of peace could be in this new world. The cigarette in the ashtray had long since burned itself out, leaving behind a thin curl of smoke that coiled upward like a ghost and vanished into the dim air.
He rubbed his temple with one hand, trying to ease the dull ache that had settled behind his eyes. Every decision lately felt heavier than the last as each one made not for victory, but for survival. The radio conversation with Li replayed in fragments through his mind: Danse's infiltration, Liberty Prime's nearing completion, the precarious balance of trust that held all of it together. One wrong move, one mistimed signal, and everything could come crashing down.
He was still lost in thought when the soft click of boots against marble reached his ears with a light, precise steps that carried a rhythm of discipline. A knock followed, sharp but respectful.
"Come in," Sico said, his voice low but steady.
The door opened, and Sarah Lyons stepped in, her posture straight as always. She had discarded her helmet, her blonde hair tied back neatly, though there was a faint smear of soot across one cheek. Her armor bore fresh scuffs and dirt, clear signs she had just come from the field. Behind the hard edge of her expression, though, was something else: fatigue.
"Commander," she greeted, offering a brief nod before stepping closer. "I thought you should hear this in person."
Sico gestured to the chair across from his desk, but she remained standing. She rarely sat during briefings — a habit that spoke more to her sense of duty than comfort.
"Report," he said simply.
Sarah exhaled, crossing her arms lightly, the faint scrape of her armor audible in the quiet room. "About yesterday's incident, the tower blast."
Sico's gaze sharpened. "Go on."
She nodded. "We've finished the damage assessment. Structural losses were minimal — the tower itself collapsed inward as planned. No collateral damage to surrounding buildings. But…" She hesitated for a moment, her tone softening slightly. "We had ten men caught in the edge of the blast range. They weren't close enough to be killed, but the shockwave hit harder than expected. Mostly concussions, burns, and shrapnel wounds."
Sico's jaw tightened, though his expression didn't change much. "Casualties?"
"No fatalities," Sarah replied quickly. "Our medics got to them fast. Doctor Curie stabilized the worst of them by nightfall. But a few are still in critical recovery — two with internal bleeding, one with fractured ribs. They'll pull through, but it'll take time."
Sico leaned back slowly in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin. The news wasn't catastrophic, but it still stung. Every soldier mattered because every loss, every injury chipped away at the morale they'd worked so hard to build. He knew what those men represented: not just fighters, but believers. The kind who trusted his judgment enough to follow him through hell without question.
He nodded finally. "You did the right thing bringing this to me directly. How's morale?"
Sarah hesitated, her expression unreadable. "Shaken," she admitted. "The explosion… it rattled them, Commander. Even though they knew it was part of the operation. Some of the newer recruits didn't understand the bigger picture — they thought it was an attack. Panic spread for a while. But Magnolia stepped in."
Sico raised a brow. "Magnolia?"
"Yeah," Sarah said, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "She came down from the market square as soon as the news broke. Set up in the main hall, started talking to settlers, calming them down. You know how she is — people listen to her. Half of them were scared, the other half angry, but she got through to them. Told them there'd be no more explosions, that the Republic had it under control. Even sang for the crowd in the evening. By the time the fires were out, the mood had changed. People were… still wary, but they weren't afraid anymore."
Sico couldn't help but smile at that — a small, weary curve of the lips. "That woman could talk a deathclaw into dancing if she wanted to."
Sarah chuckled softly. "You're not wrong. She's been coordinating with the settlers ever since. Made sure every family near the blast zone got reassured personally. I think it helped. No riots, no desertions. People trust her. They trust you."
Sico exhaled slowly, rubbing his thumb across his jawline. "Good. Fear is useful in the short term, but it's poison in the long run. We can't afford to lose their faith — not now."
Sarah stepped closer, her voice lowering slightly. "The men are asking questions, though. They want to know what the explosion was really for. The cover story's holding, but it won't last forever. Word travels fast in the barracks."
The hum of the ceiling lights cast a soft glow over the room as Sarah stood at attention, her figure half-silhouetted against the faint orange wash from the windows. The faint smell of burned tobacco still lingered near Sico's desk, the last trace of the cigarette he'd left in the ashtray beside the silent radio console. His gaze lingered on the floor for a moment before he rose slowly from his chair. The weight in his movements wasn't just fatigue — it was the burden of leadership, the quiet, relentless strain that came from holding the world together by sheer force of will.
He moved to the window, hands clasped behind his back. The streets below were still busy noise from the rhythmic noise of carts being hauled, the clang of metal from the forge, and the muffled conversations of settlers winding down their day. It was a living city — fragile but proud. Everything they'd built, from the watchtowers to the walls, from the hydro pumps to the schools, was breathing proof that the Republic wasn't just an idea. It was real. It was surviving.
Sico's voice came at last, low and even, but laced with resolve.
"Tell them," he said, "that the blast was the work of a raider group. One of those who still lurk outside our borders that is the scavengers, murderers, the kind we've been driving out since the first day we raised the Freemason banner."
Sarah's brow furrowed slightly. "Raiders?"
"Yes," Sico said firmly, turning to face her. "Make it clear that this wasn't a Brotherhood attack or some failure in our own systems. The last thing we need is panic or worse, suspicion. Tell them the raiders tried to send a message, tried to spread fear. But they failed." He paused, stepping closer to his desk, resting a hand on the edge as he leaned slightly forward. "Tell them we found the group responsible. Tell them we killed them all."
Sarah held his gaze for a moment, reading the truth beneath the words — the lie they'd have to live with for the sake of order. "Understood," she said quietly.
Sico nodded. "We can't tell them the truth. Not yet. Too many moving parts, too many ears listening. If word got out about what really happened that is about the tower, about Danse, about Li's operation as we'd lose more than trust. We'd lose the very control that's keeping this Republic alive."
There was a long silence between them. The faint buzz of the fluorescent light filled it, mingling with the distant clatter of boots in the hallway beyond the door. Sarah's jaw worked slightly, her expression hard but understanding. She had led troops long enough to know that sometimes truth was a luxury no leader could afford.
She finally spoke, her tone steady. "I'll brief the officers tonight. Keep the story consistent. I'll tell Magnolia too, she can help spread it quietly among the settlers. They trust her voice more than any of ours."
"Good," Sico said, easing back against the desk. "We need to keep the story simple, clean. Raiders struck from the river bend, probably using explosives stolen from old ruins. We tracked them to their camp and took them out before dawn. Tell the men that justice was swift."
Sarah nodded. "I can make that believable. There's plenty of wreckage near the river we can use to support the report. I'll send a team to plant some debris — maybe burn out an old raider symbol or two. Make it look real."
Sico gave a faint smile. "That's why you're the best at this."
Her mouth quirked in the ghost of a smirk, but her eyes remained serious. "You shouldn't have to carry this kind of lie alone, Commander. The men trust you. They'd follow you into hell if you asked them to. But lies… lies spread like smoke. Hard to contain once the wind catches."
Sico's gaze softened slightly. "I know. But right now, we don't need heroes. We need stability. And sometimes, Sarah, stability is built on quiet truths that the world isn't ready to hear."
He walked toward the window again, watching a patrol unit move past the courtyard below, their armor glinting in the torchlight. "When the time comes, when Liberty Prime is ours and the Brotherhood is no longer a threat, we'll tell them everything. Until then, the truth stays between us."
Sarah's eyes followed him for a long moment. There was something in the way he said it — not just command, but conviction. He wasn't lying for power. He was lying to protect the dream that had cost them all too much to abandon now.
Finally, she straightened her shoulders, the resolve returning to her voice. "Understood, sir. I'll see to it."
"Good," Sico said quietly, turning back to face her. "And Sarah…"
She stopped at the door, glancing back.
"Make sure those men, the ones injured in the blast can get everything they need. Don't let them feel forgotten. Send flowers from the upper courtyard, maybe even some of the food stock from the western farm. Tell them it's from me."
A faint warmth softened her features, though she still stood with a soldier's composure. "They'll appreciate that."
"I know," Sico said, his voice quieter now. "They fought for something they believed in. I won't let them think their suffering was meaningless."
Sarah gave a short nod. "I'll take care of it personally."
Then she turned and left, the sound of her boots fading into the corridor until only silence remained again.
Sico stayed by the window long after she was gone. Outside, the night had settled fully over Sanctuary — the stars faint through the soft haze, the lanterns glowing along the main road like veins of gold threading through the dark. He could see the faint motion of people heading home, their laughter echoing faintly across the square.
This was why he lied. Not for power, not for glory — but for them. For the children chasing each other through the alleyways, for the families lighting candles at their tables, for the farmers who rose before dawn to till the soil they'd reclaimed from ruin. Every lie, every secret was another brick in the wall between them and the chaos beyond.
He turned back to his desk, opening the drawer and pulling out a small notebook bound in cracked leather. Inside were sketches — maps, plans, scribbled notes from sleepless nights. But between them, in smaller handwriting, were lines of reflection. His own private record.
He flipped to a fresh page, the faint scratch of the pen breaking the quiet.
Ten injured today. No dead. Sarah handled it well. Magnolia held the people together. For now, the lie will stand. The raiders will take the blame. It's ugly, but necessary. The truth would only break what we've built. Still, I wonder how many more truths I'll have to bury before peace becomes more than a word on our banners.
He paused, the pen hovering above the page.
Li said Liberty Prime will be ready soon. When that day comes, everything changes. But change always demands something in return. I hope the price isn't too high.
He closed the notebook and leaned back, letting the silence settle again.
The hallway beyond Sico's office was quiet, but it carried that particular kind of stillness that wasn't peace, the kind that followed the storm of an incident too big to ignore. The air still smelled faintly of ozone and scorched metal, a ghost of the earlier explosion at the transmitter tower. Guards stood at their usual posts, but their eyes lingered longer than usual as Sico passed, the faint unspoken questions written across their faces.
He didn't stop to answer any of them.
Outside, the wind had turned colder, sharper — cutting through the night air that rolled off the riverbank. The main road was dim now, lanterns burning low, their glow flickering across the cracked concrete and the worn cobblestones of what had once been a pre-war suburban lane. The Freemasons' banners hung still against the quiet, the sigil faintly visible in the amber light — the hammer and compass intertwined over the star, a symbol of unity carved from the bones of ruin.
Sico moved with steady steps, cloak brushing against his legs, until he reached the lower end of the square where the Freemasons Radio building stood — a squat, reinforced structure of old brick and steel plating, once a local civic center now reborn into the voice of the Republic.
Even before he opened the door, he could hear the commotion inside.
Piper Wright's voice with her sharp, fast, and full of that righteous fury only she could muster were echoed through the interior.
"…you're telling me the entire relay's fried, and we can't even push a shortwave broadcast? You realize what that means? Half the settlements outside the central grid will have no updates for days!"
Sico exhaled slowly through his nose, half amused, half weary. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The main room was a chaotic sprawl of cables, scattered tools, and a half-disassembled transmitter console. A young technician was crouched behind the equipment, sparks flickering as he tried to reroute a damaged circuit. Piper stood nearby, coat sleeves rolled up, one hand gripping a clipboard like it was a weapon. Her dark hair was a bit messier than usual, strands falling into her face as she gestured sharply toward the busted relay.
"I told you last week to double-check the grounding wire after that thunderstorm! You think it just 'blew itself'?" she snapped, pacing a short line before noticing Sico by the doorway.
Her eyes narrowed. "Oh, look who it is. The man of the hour."
Sico couldn't help but smile faintly at that tone. "Evening, Piper."
"Don't 'evening, Piper' me," she said, marching toward him, boots tapping sharply against the floor. "The transmitter tower's a smoking heap, the backup array's fried, and I've got settlers from Quincy to Lexington waiting on updates about supply routes. You want to explain to me how a supposed 'Republic' keeps its people informed when its radio is dead?"
He let her vent — she needed it. Piper had always been that way: fierce when angry, but it came from care. Her anger was a symptom of her heart.
When she paused, he spoke softly. "I came here to do exactly that — explain."
That disarmed her for a moment. She frowned, eyes narrowing again, but curiosity flickered behind them. "Alright then, Commander. Let's hear it. Because the story your people are passing around about 'raiders with explosives' doesn't add up. Raiders don't know how to climb that tower without falling off it, let alone plant charges with that kind of precision."
Sico stepped closer, lowering his voice. "You're right. They didn't."
That made her stop cold. Piper's expression hardened. "Then what really happened?"
Sico looked toward the door, then the technicians still at work. He gave Piper a look — the kind that said this isn't for public ears. She got the hint, motioning to the tech crew.
"Alright, fellas, take five. Go get some air. And for God's sake, don't fry another circuit while I'm gone."
The techs nodded quickly and stepped outside, leaving the two of them alone in the quiet hum of the half-lit room. The broken transmitter loomed like a corpse between them, the faint scent of burned wiring hanging in the air.
Sico waited until the last footstep faded before he spoke again.
"It was Paladin Danse."
Piper blinked, caught off guard. "Danse? As in Brotherhood Danse? The guy who used to shoot at synths for fun?"
"The same," Sico said quietly, crossing his arms. "He's… not the same man anymore. And that tower—" he gestured toward the burnt schematics laid out across the workbench "—wasn't destroyed out of sabotage. It was necessary."
Piper's brows knitted together, skepticism flashing across her face. "Necessary? You're gonna have to walk me through that, Commander, because I'm struggling to find the part where blowing up your own communications tower helps the Republic."
Sico took a deep breath. "Danse had to show the Brotherhood something. Proof. The kind that buys him back into their ranks."
Her eyes widened slightly. "You're saying he did this on purpose to get back into the Brotherhood?"
He nodded. "Yes. It was the only way he could return to the Prydwen without suspicion. Maxson's eyes are on him. Every move he makes, every word he says is watched. If Danse just vanished from their patrol logs, Maxson would assume he deserted — and that would make him useless to us. But if he brought back evidence — something that looked like he sabotaged the Freemasons' infrastructure — then he could earn back their trust long enough to move freely."
Piper shook her head slowly, disbelief and reluctant understanding battling in her expression. "So you're telling me you let him destroy the tower?"
Sico's voice dropped lower. "I ordered it."
The silence that followed was heavy.
Piper stared at him, searching his face for some sign of guilt, of doubt and found it there, faintly, in the edges of his eyes. But there was something else too, conviction. The kind that made you understand why people followed him.
He continued, his tone quiet but sure. "Danse doesn't believe in what Maxson's become anymore. The Brotherhood he joined which the one that stood for honor, unity, rebuilding humanity as it's gone. Maxson turned it into a crusade of arrogance and fear. Danse saw it for what it was… and he couldn't stay silent. So when we found him, he offered something no one else could, a way inside. A way to reach the ones who still doubt Maxson's vision."
Piper exhaled slowly, running a hand through her hair. "So he's going back to… what? Start a mutiny?"
"Something like that," Sico said. "He'll find the ones who still remember what the Brotherhood was meant to be with the soldiers who believe in protection, not domination. When the time comes, they'll turn. They'll stand down when Liberty Prime walks into the field, not fire on their own humanity."
Piper crossed her arms, leaning back against the table. Her voice softened, but her tone stayed sharp. "You're playing a dangerous game, you know that? You're trusting a man who spent years hunting synths and bombing settlements in the name of the same Brotherhood that wants you dead."
"I know," Sico said simply. "But trust isn't always about who they were — it's about who they've chosen to become. Danse had the chance to kill me when he found out what we were doing. Instead, he helped us. He saved Sarah's life at the reactor. That counts for something."
She looked down for a moment, chewing her lip — a tell she still had from her Diamond City days. "So all this — the cover story, the fake raider attack, the burned tower — it's to protect him."
"To protect him, and the mission," Sico said. "If anyone from the Brotherhood, or even our own people are suspected he was working with us, he'd be dead before he ever reached the Prydwen. This lie keeps him alive long enough to make a difference."
Piper didn't answer right away. She stared at the broken transmitter for a long time, the orange light catching in her eyes. "You realize what this means for us, right? No broadcasts, no news, no connection to the outer settlements. People are gonna start asking questions."
"I know," Sico said quietly. "That's why I came to you."
She looked up sharply. "Me?"
"Yes. You're going to keep the truth — for now. You'll tell people what Sarah's telling them: raiders hit the tower, we took care of it. Repairs are underway, transmission will be back in a few days. Keep the faith steady."
Piper let out a dry laugh. "You want me to lie? That's rich, coming from the guy who knows my whole career started with tearing down lies."
Sico stepped closer, his voice softer. "I'm not asking you to lie for me, Piper. I'm asking you to protect what we've built — just until it's safe. You've seen what happens when the truth comes out at the wrong time. It burns everything in its path. And right now, we can't afford another fire."
Her jaw clenched. For a long moment, she didn't speak. Then finally, she exhaled and looked up at him — eyes tired but understanding.
"You owe me one, Sico. Big time."
He gave a faint, weary smile. "I'll add it to the list."
The corner of her mouth twitched — not quite a smile, not quite a frown. She turned back toward the window, looking out over the darkened square where patrols still walked their routes. "I'll keep the story straight," she said finally. "But when this is over — when your 'mission' with Danse is done — you're giving me the full truth. No filters. No command talk."
"You have my word," Sico said quietly.
Piper nodded once, slow and deliberate, then crossed her arms again. "You'd better make sure that tower's worth the trouble, Commander. Because right now, it's the only voice this Republic has. Without it, people are gonna start thinking the world's gone quiet again — and that's when fear creeps back in."
Sico looked out the window beside her — the faint lights of Sanctuary flickering in the night, the heartbeat of a world reborn. "It won't stay quiet for long," he said softly. "When the time comes, Piper… you'll be the first to tell them the truth."
She turned to look at him then, the journalist in her seeing something more than just a soldier. "You really believe all this, don't you? The Republic. The unity. The dream."
He nodded once. "Every word of it."
She studied him a long moment — then finally, quietly, said, "Then don't make me regret keeping your secret."
Sico gave a faint nod. "I won't."
As he turned to leave, the sound of the city drifted back through the open door — the faint laughter of settlers, the hum of the forges, the clatter of patrol boots. He paused for just a moment, glancing back at Piper.
"Thank you," he said simply.
She didn't turn, but her voice followed him out, wry as ever. "Just make sure the next time you blow up one of my towers, it's after I've finished my morning coffee."
He allowed himself a small chuckle before stepping out into the night again.
The door closed behind him with a soft click, leaving Piper staring at the shattered transmitter. Her reflection caught faintly in the glass, her expression unreadable as it was somewhere between frustration and quiet faith.
Outside, Sico walked back toward the main square, the stars faint above the clouds. The air smelled of dust and promise, and though the weight of the lie pressed heavy on his shoulders, the purpose behind it burned steady in his chest.
________________________________________________
• 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:-