Once the door was firmly shut, I slid down against it, my back pressed on the wood and iron. I spent the next twenty minutes in various stages of panic. I wasn't exactly spiraling, but I was pretty damn close. Meanwhile, Maxwell simply claimed a bench nearby, just a few feet away. He didn't comment on my rough state, but his presence was still reassuring.

  When I recovered enough that my thoughts were not a jumbled mess, I looked over at the sharply dressed man, suddenly realizing something.

  "If the entities chose me for… this," I said, gesturing vaguely around us. "What's your deal?"

  "As I said before, I am the caretaker of the Headquarters, specifically the main building," He explained, adjusting his tie. "I keep the hall tidy, take care of the bedrooms, and do other simple tasks. If your reward is small enough, I can be the one who presents it to you. Speaking of which-"

  "Unless it's going to disappear, it can wait," I assure him. "How exactly does that work? Are you tied to the building? Are you… sentient? sapient?"

  "Technically, I am your first "soldier," He explained, adding air quotes. "Though I'm not much of a fighter, trust me. I am sapient and sentient. I even have a soul. I am bound to you, both loyal and required to follow your orders, though my limits are a bit looser than my fellows will be, since I am not designed for open combat."

  "Wait… that sounds like… fiat-backed slavery," I said with disgust. "That's horrifying! And I'm supposed to use others like you to fight? Send them off into battle? That…”

  "In most circumstances, with similar bindings, I would agree with you, Connor, but there is some context here that makes it less morally disturbing," he assured me, still sitting on one of the benches along the wall of coat cabinets. "You see, souls are a finite resource and as close to indestructible as is possible for anything that can exist. However, sometimes they do get lost."

  "Lost? How?"

  "Well, almost all realities function on some sort of reincarnation process," He explained, his hands in his lap. "But they are usually designed by in-universe beings. Usually gods, but sometimes by entities above them depending on how the hierarchy works in those universes. As those systems are built by naturally flawed beings, they are bound to have inherent flaws, flaws in which souls can occasionally slip through and become lost, getting stranded in the Blind Eternities. The space between existence."

  "That… sounds bad."

  "It is. For something to exist in a space in which existence is impossible, it is torture, worse than anything you can imagine, for a never-ending eternity," Maxwell concurred, his tone solemn. "The entities that set you on this path reach into the Blind Eternities, scoop up these souls, polish off the horrors of the void, then slide them into your system as your rewards."

  "Saving them from never-ending torture," I added, Maxwell nodding in confirmation.

  "Precisely. In exchange for their service, be it short or long, they are saved from an eternity of torture. Should they die in your service or after, they slip into the world's normal cycle of reincarnation. Trust me when I say, that no matter the manner of hell they face in your service, it is nothing compared to the relief of no longer being stranded in the void. You could purposely torture them for hundreds of years, and they would still thank you for it."

  "So why not just shove them back into the reincarnation cycle? Why the extra steps?"

  "Oh, the entities do, in vast quantities, in fact. However, some require a bit extra," the sharply dressed man explained, though he followed it up with a shrug. "I must admit, while I have been briefed so I may have this very conversation, I am far from an expert. I would hazard a guess that some souls are damaged, and experiencing life, no matter how short, helps us heal. That, and the entities seem to be strong proponents of completing multiple objectives at once. Two birds and all that."

  I sat there for another minute at least, digesting what Maxwell had explained. Beyond just the peak behind the curtain at a fundamental aspect of reality, it was reassuring to learn that summoning soldiers was actually helping them. Plus… a large part of me was relieved. The fact that I would be summoning real people meant that I wouldn't have to worry about going crazy from being surrounded by fake people, and it also meant I wouldn't have to go out seeking companionship. I would be surrounded by real people who were inherently loyal to me. Maybe not the healthiest thing, but in a world like Fallout, it was reassuring.

  "I'm not going to have to worry about giving orders by accident, am I?" I asked with a frown. "If I tell someone to get lost, they aren't going to run into the city with their eyes closed, right?"

  "No, certainly not, nothing so crude," Maxwell assured me, waving away my concerns. "You can expect them to follow orders as any well-trained soldier would until you press against their morals, something like ordering them to kill innocent noncombatants or attack allies. Then you will need to give them actual commands."

  "Oh, good. Okay. That's reassuring," I said, letting out a long breath. "Okay. well… I guess we should start with the reward I just earned?"

  "Very well. I believe this one should be available at the front desk," He said, standing from his bench before approaching me, his hand out.

  "Thanks," I said, taking his hand and standing up with his help, following after him as he turned and walked back down the hall.

  When we reached the front desk, Maxwell flicked his hand out as if he was catching something, and suddenly, he was holding the quest parchment again, the same one that he had vanished before. Whether he was trying to impress by putting on a show or was just going through the motions to conjure the parchment back, I couldn't tell. He turned and fed the parchment to a mail slot, which made a metallic tapping sound as it closed. A moment after he did that, a sort of resonating ding echoed from the front desk.

  "Ah, here we are," He said simply, reaching down under the desk to pull out two large cardboard boxes, followed by a rifle box and a pistol box, placing each on the counter. "Your rewards, Sir."

  "Thanks…"

  Rather than open them at the counter, I carried them to the nearest table before slowly opening the boxes first. Just as the parchment had said, I received "light combat attire," which consisted of comfortable yet durable feeling fatigues, armored coverings, a light but full coverage helmet, a pair of combat boots, an empty utility belt with a holster for my pistol, slots for my spare mags, and finally, a backpack.

  In all, while it didn't look quite like what I was used to, like anything out of the ordinary. It was clearly professionally made, but it didn't contain any technology or space-age alloys. Even the helmet, which contained a simple dust filter around the mouth, was just basic protection. It would work to protect me, it wouldn't weigh me down, but it wasn't going to stop anything bigger than a large pistol round, if that.

  The supplies were basic, and I could tell just by looking at them that the rations would probably keep me from starving, but if I lived off them for more than a few days, I would probably willingly starve to death.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Next, I opened my rifle, uncertain what would be inside. I half expected the strange-looking clone that I had never really used in Fallout 3, which was simply called the Instead, I was happily greeted by a factory-fresh, newly oiled. Tucked under it in the foam were three full magazines, two thirty-round boxes of 5.56, and a foregrip attachment.

  "I was informed that they take the same ammunition that this world's Assault Rifles take," Maxwell said, still standing behind the counter. "Which will make scavenging for ammunition considerably easier."

  "True… but if I'm going to be running a military group, scavenged ammo isn't going to be enough," I pointed out, running my fingers over the rifle before closing the case. "We are going to need a better source if the two-day replenishment turns out not to be enough, which I'm pretty sure it won't be."

  I reached over and grabbed the pistol case next, stacking it on the rifle case before popping it open. There, sitting inside, was a genuine, along with two mags and one box of ammo. However, this pistol was not factory-new. I could see wearing along the grip and scratches from being well-used and consistently carried. More importantly, it was wear and tear that I recognized. I carefully pulled the pistol from the box and checked that it wasn't loaded before inspecting the previously hidden grip plate. There, on a simple metal oval set into the grip, were my initials, engraved in a tasteful simple script. The rest of the pistol was unadorned.

  "This is mine," I said, looking down at the firearm. "It was a gift from my dad… just a year before he passed. How is this here?"

  I looked at Maxwell, who simply shrugged.

  "I'm afraid that I have no control over the rewards, Sir," He explained. "The entities control that. I would imagine, if that is your pistol, that it would be a gift from them."

  I looked back down at the pistol before pushing it back into its foam slot. After a moment, I let out a whisper word of thanks, before shaking my head and looking over at Maxwell.

  "Is there going to be .45 ACP here?" I asked. "Fallout 3 doesn't normally have that one."

  "Yes, but while you are in the location that Fallout 3 takes place in, that doesn't mean you are Fallout 3. Plenty of the weapons and other normally game-specific items have spread around the Capital Wasteland. The standard .45 round here will fit your pistols."

  "Good to know…"

  I stood there, looking down at what could very well be my last link to my old life, before slowly closing it. I would carry the pistol as a memory, but I needed to focus on my new reality, as that was the only way I was ever going to survive this. A realistically scaled Fallout world was about as close to a hell world as you could get without screaming, "Praise the Emperor!" which meant I couldn't afford to hold back, squabble around, or take my time. Speaking of which.

  "What time is it exactly?" I asked. "And does the time in this world match the time in the dark world, the one I'll be going to for my quests?"

  "They match up, and they will always match up unless we are linked to a world with nonstandard day cycles. As for the time…" Maxwell turned around to look at the wall behind him, where a clock was hung just above the blank blackboard. "Looks to be a quarter past ten in the morning, sir."

  "Right. Okay…. Well… should I pick another quest?"

  "A good idea, Sir. I believe there is another introductory quest, this one for the dark world," he agreed, turning to go through a stack of quests, turning back with one. "Here, I believe this is what you're looking for."

  I walked to the counter and took the quest, reading it closely. The task was to do a wide perimeter check of the area around where our door was connected to. I would have to walk at least a hundred and fifty feet away from the connection point before walking a large circle and returning through the door. The reward for completing the task was…

  "A barracks?" I asked, looking up at Maxwell. "Doesn't this place already have bedrooms?"

  "Yes, but not only are those limited in number, but in order to claim different types of soldiers, be they heavies, scouts, or medics, you must first unlock their prerequisite. The general soldier type is unlocked by obtaining the barracks. They don't need to sleep there, though you will quickly run out of room here in the main hall."

  "So, once I unlock this, then I will be able to spawn in some help?"

  "That is correct, though keep in mind that your next available quests may or may not contain a soldier as a reward. This is still essentially the tutorial, so the quests are set, but once that is finished, you cannot rely on it picking what you want."

  "Where will the barracks end up?"

  "You will select a location when you return, though I do agree, for now, any soldiers you may recruit through your rewards should be brought in here," He admitted. "The surrounding area is dangerous, and leaving a single soldier alone outside would be cruel."

  "Right. Well, I accept," I said with a nod. "I need to start somewhere, and a short perimeter run is as good as any."

  "That's the spirit, Sir," Maxwell said with a nod, taking the parchment from me. "I suggest you get dressed and head off. A perimeter sweep at night sounds rather abysmal."

  I nodded, quickly heading back to the table. I pulled on the fatigues, and the sturdy clothes fit perfectly. I carefully attached my holster to my belt, leaving it empty for the moment. Then, piece by piece, I put on the armored plates, testing them first, feeling their weight. They were sturdy and well made, a with a decent enough weight that made me feel a bit more confident, even if it was clear this was on the lighter side in terms of armor. Maxwell helped me clip everything in place that I couldn't reach, though I left my backpack on the table. Maxwell made it very clear that I couldn't bring anything back with me from any of the dark worlds, so there was no point in bringing it, especially since this shouldn't take very long.

  I carefully slid my pistol into its holster after cracking open the case again, grabbing the spare mag as well and sliding it into place. My weapon was now loaded, and the pistol's familiar weight felt reassuring. I then slid my spare rifle mags into place in small pouches on my chest plate, sliding one into the rifle's magwell, before double-checking the safety.

  "Okay, I think I'm ready," I said, holding my rifle and wincing as I adjusted my grip awkwardly. "Well, not really, but I need to do this anyway. Am I forgetting anything?"

  "Just your helmet."

  I nodded and placed my rifle down before carefully pulling my helmet on. It was comfortable, not too heavy, and didn't feel too oppressive despite being comparable to a motorcycle helmet in coverage. I took a few long breaths to test breathability, and when everything was fine, I picked my rifle back up.

  "Right… You sure you don't have any hints as to what's waiting for me on the other side?"

  "I would tell you if I knew, Sir," he assured me. "My survival depends on your success, don't forget."

  "Fair enough. Wish me luck then."

  "Good luck, Sir."

  I walked down the hall, my equipment feeling heavy, like it was weighing me down and pulling me back. I pushed on, though, turning left to the hall of doors, and turning left again to the only dark door that was, supposedly, active. Just as before, made my hackles rise and the hair on the back of my neck prickle. Still, I ignored it, stepping forward and grabbing the handle, pulling it open in one smooth movement.

  I stepped forward into the darkness, the door sealing shut behind me as I stepped through. For a moment, I was lost in the dark. Then, suddenly, in the distance, I could see light. I slowly walked forward, stepping out from the darkness and into…

  A lush green forest?

  I was standing on a path, with grass growing on either side of me, and even growing not far from where I stood. I walked forward more, stepping out from the overhang the hallway had led to, following the path forward. After about fifty feet, I stopped and turned around on the spot.

  I had, set in a slight valley, which itself was surrounded by great big rusted ruins. Green vines hung from steel beams, covered in red rust, all of them looking one solid push from collapsing. The entire area looked green and healthy, a shocking contrast to the Capital Wasteland.

  Curiosity at where I could possibly be overtook me, and I continued down the path, passing beyond the necessary hundred and fifty feet for the perimeter check. Suddenly I reached the end of the forest, and just barely stepped into the start of an. I'm sure, if I was paying attention, I might have been shocked at how picturesque it was.

  Instead, I was desperately gripping my rifle, my knuckles white. In the distance was plodding around, its size large enough to mess with my sense of scale. I could see smaller ones as well, walking through grass, rooting around through scrap. There were even some disturbingly close by, a pod of moved together, heads scanning the area.

  Horizon Zero Dawn. A land of massive, violent metal monstrosities, rampant AI, and tribal communities.

  I very slowly stepped back into the treeline, disappearing into the shadows as best I could before turning and running deeper into the woods.