Sorry for not uploading the chapter. I know this isn't an excuse, but after watching the TV show, I started playing Fallout: New Vegas again. Once I finished the game, I got caught up in modding it, and after playing with mods, I ended up starting another Fallout fanfic.
I sincerely apologize for the delay.
My new fanfic:Fallout: New Vegas – The Lost Courier
########
Deep within the dungeon known as Widow's Crypt, the scent of blood and death hung heavy in the air. Amidst the carnage, an elf with white hair and piercing blue eyes lay wounded near a jagged rock, her breath ragged as she watched her forces being slaughtered. Her once-proud troops—warriors who had followed her without hesitation—were being cut down one by one by a monstrous figure.
The creature stood nearly two meters tall, its hunched posture making it appear even more grotesque. It laughed maniacally as it impaled one of her soldiers, lifting him effortlessly before tossing the lifeless body aside. The elf's mind raced, but only one thought consumed her: Where did it all go wrong?
Within seconds, the battlefield fell silent. Everyone was dead. The monster turned its gaze toward her, its eyes gleaming with sadistic delight.
"I told you, lesser," it sneered, stepping closer. "You should have listened to me. Then maybe... you would have lived."
Alea could do nothing but stare, her body frozen in shock. Her comrades lay strewn around her, their hollow eyes reflecting the brutal reality of their demise.
The creature let out a low chuckle. "Oh well," it mused. "After dealing with those insects, I find myself in need of some... entertainment." Its voice dripped with cruelty as it reached toward her. "Make sure to entertain me, lesser."
Alea clenched her eyes shut. She knew begging would be useless. She only prayed that her death would be quick and painless. But deep down, she knew it wouldn't be.
Then—BOOM!
The ground trembled as a deafening explosion echoed through the crypt. Dust and debris filled the air, momentarily obscuring everything. Alea's eyes snapped open, her breath hitching as she saw a shadowy silhouette standing amidst the smoke.
A calm, almost exasperated voice cut through the chaos.
"I should have known this would happen."
As the dust settled, a man with white hair emerged. His sharp gaze scanned the destruction before settling on Alea. Then, he shifted his attention to the monstrous figure before him. After a moment of silence, he sighed and turned away.
"You guys can continue," he muttered dismissively, already making to leave.
The monster's expression twisted with rage. With a guttural roar, it launched a barrage of spikes toward the man's back. But before they could reach him, he moved—effortlessly dodging without even glancing back.
The creature snarled. "Where do you think you're going, you pathetic human?!"
Hearing this, the man finally stopped. Slowly, he turned back and looked at the monster, an eyebrow raised.
"Are you talking to me?" he asked, pointing at himself.
"Yes, you, pathetic human!" the monster spat, its voice dripping with contempt.
The man blinked before his lips curled into a smirk.
"Fuck you," he replied casually, flipping the monster off. "Ugly-ass, flea-ridden, sewer-bred reject. You look like something that crawled out of a failed necromancer's experiment."
Then, raising his middle finger, he added, "I bet you have no skill, no aura, and no bitches with your yee-yee ass face."
The monster's eyes widened in sheer disbelief before its expression twisted into fury.
"I AM VITRA!" it roared, its voice shaking the very walls of the dungeon. "AND YOU WILL SHOW ME RESPECT, YOU LESSER!"
With an ear-piercing screech, Vitra lunged at him, extending its long, razor-sharp nails, fully intent on tearing him apart.
Alea barely had time to react before—BANG!
The man moved. No spells, no drawn weapons—just a single, effortless punch.
His fist slammed into Vitra's face with such devastating force that the monster was sent flying. It crashed through countless boulders, each impact shaking the ground, before finally skidding to a stop in a crumpled heap.
A moment of silence followed. Alea's breath hitched as Vitra struggled to rise. When it finally did, the once-menacing creature was barely recognizable.
Half of its face was gone—shattered, crushed, exposing the raw, bloody mess underneath. A sickening mixture of bone, torn flesh, and twitching muscle was all that remained.
For the first time since the massacre began, Vitra looked afraid.
The man began to approach.
Vitra, still dazed and struggling to remain standing, collapsed onto his back. His breathing was ragged, his remaining eye darting in panic. He tried to push himself up, but his body failed him. Seeing the white-haired man closing in, the monster did something unexpected—he begged.
"P—please… let me go…" his voice, once dripping with arrogance, now quivered with fear.
The man stopped in front of him and looked down, his expression unreadable. Slowly, he glanced around the battlefield, at the mutilated corpses littering the ground.
"Looking at this place… seeing all these bodies…" His voice was calm, eerily so. "This massacre… this was your work, wasn't it?"
Vitra frantically nodded, his shredded face twitching in desperation.
The man tilted his head. "You must have been enjoying yourself while killing them."
Vitra said nothing. He couldn't.
The man smirked. "Let's play a game."
Vitra's eye flickered with the tiniest shred of hope.
"If you win," the man continued, "I'll let you go." He crouched slightly, his gaze locking onto the monster's. "But if you fail… you die."
The monster swallowed hard, his ruined mouth barely managing to form words. "W—whhaaat's… ttthhee… gggaaaamee…?"
The man grinned. "Simple. Cut off your own arms and legs—without screaming."
Silence.
Vitra trembled. His remaining eye widened in sheer horror. He tried to speak, to protest, but his mangled jaw made it impossible to form coherent words.
The man chuckled. "Oh, I see… You want me to help you, buddy?"
Then, he suddenly struck a heroic pose.
"Fear not," he declared, voice booming, a wide grin stretching across his face, "for I am here!"
Alea didn't know what followed after that. She wished she didn't.
By the time it was over… the monster was nothing more than a pile of unrecognizable goo.
As the monster was reduced to nothing but an unrecognizable pile of flesh and blood, the man finally turned. His piercing gaze landed on Alea.
Her breath hitched.
Slowly, he began to approach her.
Her mind raced. Is he going to kill me next?
Before she could contemplate further, the overwhelming exhaustion, the pain, and the sheer weight of everything that had happened finally caught up to her. Her vision blurred, her body swayed, and as the darkness closed in, the last thing she heard was his voice—calm, almost amused.
"Talk about timing."
Then, everything faded.
Some Time Later
It felt like an eternity before she finally stirred.
Her body ached everywhere. A dull, throbbing pain pulsed through her limbs as she slowly blinked, adjusting to the dim light around her. I'm… still alive?
With effort, she pushed herself up into a sitting position, only to realize that her clothes had been changed. Fresh bandages wrapped around her wounds, a clear sign that someone had treated her.
As she tried to recall what had happened, a voice broke the silence.
"You awake now?"
Alea's head snapped toward the sound.
Not far from her, near a small campfire, sat the same white-haired man. His posture was relaxed, one leg stretched out, the other bent as he turned a skewer of meat over the fire. The flickering flames cast shadows over his sharp features, making him appear even more enigmatic.
She stared at him, her mind catching up to the events that led her here.
Before she could say anything, his voice came again.
"If you can get up, come eat."
Alea hesitated, then slowly stood, wincing as pain flared through her sore muscles. Still, she managed to make her way toward him.
The man glanced at her and gave a slight nod. "Good." He gestured for her to sit, and she obeyed, lowering herself across from him.
Wordlessly, he handed her some food before taking a bite of his own.
Alea stared at the cooked meat in her hands, then shifted her gaze to him.
Noticing her stare, the man raised an eyebrow. "If you're worried about your clothes, they're over there." He lazily pointed at a nearby rock, where her neatly folded garments rested. Then, as if anticipating her next question, he added, "And yes, I'm the one who changed them and treated your wounds."
Alea shook her head. "It's not about that."
The man paused mid-bite, then looked at her. "Then what?"
She hesitated for only a moment before answering. "Thank you… for saving my life."
He waved a hand dismissively. "You're welcome, I guess." With that, he resumed eating.
Despite his nonchalant attitude, Alea kept watching him.
Sensing her continued gaze, he finally sighed. "What now?"
She hesitated before asking, "Can you tell me your name?"
The man looked at her for a brief moment before replying simply, "Rudra."
Hearing that, Alea gave a small nod. "I'm Alea Triscan."
Rudra didn't respond, merely acknowledging her introduction with a slight tilt of his head.
As they ate in silence, Alea found herself occasionally glancing at him, her mind filled with even more questions.