Morning Watch

DATE: 10/31/2224

Morning came slow, dragging yesterday’s weight with it. I woke in the Brotherhood-allocated room—bare metal walls, functional bed, no pretense of comfort. Compared to sleeping in a shipping container, it was a palace.

Clancy was already bouncing around, face painted like a jack-o’-lantern. “WAKE UP! IT’S HALLOWEEN! BOOGA BOOGA BOOGAAAH!”

Larry, on the other hand, remained tucked in the shadows of the room, quiet and tense. Past dealings with the Brotherhood had taught him to blend, hide, and survive. Colby hadn’t recognized him yet.. but I wasn’t banking on luck.

The hospital itself was unsettling. Half-cleared rooms, scattered feral remains, corridors that smelled of rot and antiseptic. If the Brotherhood truly intended to secure this place and expand to the university, why leave it like this? Either they were stretched thin...or something else was happening.

I spent the morning combing the terminals, digging through pre-war logs. The chaos of 2077 bled off the pages: overcrowded wards, failing evacuation plans, orders prioritizing VIPs while the rest were left to chance.

10/15/2077
“Evacuation plans are still a mess… VIPs and military prioritized. Regular civilians? Just ‘do your best.’”

10/22/2077
“Confirmed Vault-Tec partnerships. Some patients to be moved to Vault 36, 51… staff uneasy but following orders.”

10/23/2077 – 9:47 AM
“Mass panic in the lobby… lockdown in effect… staying put may mean death.”

No closure. Hundreds left hanging, abandoned by plans that failed before the bombs fell.

Then the recent Brotherhood logs, more chilling:

10/19/2224
Cleansing operations incomplete. Hostile ghouls engaged. Some armored. Signs of intelligence in certain groups. Mutation possible.

10/27/2224
Secured additional floors. Civilians relocated. Ghouls still an issue. High-ranking officers discussing final solutions. Overcapacity a concern.

The Brotherhood wasn’t just securing a base—they were experimenting, studying ferals. Some had armor, some showed intelligence… details carefully omitted in open records.

Pinball hovered nearby, sensors flicking. “Your expression suggests something fascinating, Big Chief.”

“Fascinating isn’t the word,” I muttered. “Concerning is more accurate.”

Colby & the Brotherhood’s Agenda

Colby found me mid-morning, armor clanking softly. “Sleep well?”

“Best since leaving the vault,” I admitted. “Though the place itself raises questions.”

“You’d be a fool not to,” he said, smirking. “But only so many answers I can give.”

I pressed him on the university. Why not secure it yet? His hesitation was telling. “Bigger space, more resources… other interested parties. Not a simple walk-in.”

I caught the unspoken: someone else was already moving in those halls.

Before leaving, he reminded me. “Brotherhood doesn’t offer charity. Security comes at a price. Work, trade, or make yourself useful. That’s reality.”

Larry exhaled softly, he’d been holding his breath the entire time.

Pinball spun in place, flat and measured. “I don’t trust them. Not a bit.”

Clancy was muttering no, yelling. every curse he knew, pacing the room. He didn’t want to die here. I let it go; survival wasn’t polite.

For now, we were here. The Brotherhood wasn’t just running a base—they were running an experiment. And I had to figure out why.

—The Big Chief