As two of their number ventured into the collapsed tunnel, Khaliya was left with a moment of stillness and a group who seemed once more on the verge themselves. Idleness allowed the demons inside to explore, and while their walk was not quite as eventful as expected or fruitful as most would have desired, it provided a distraction. Now one was shouting at ghosts from a tear in her suit, and others were shifting back to the barely constrained hostility towards one another. Thankfully the suddenly quite talkative westerner spoke up, asking questions about the objective. From the way he spoke, the subtle inflections of a life far from here and the armor he wore that she spotted on entering the subway, it was clear at least to her that he was from some place far to the west.

"The USSR was our rival before the war, yes, but not quite an enemy." She spoke out at last, turning to press her back against the metal of the railcar. At least this could distract the group a little more while they waited, but she kept a keen ear on the radio at all times in case they ran into trouble. "There's evidence of some loose cooperation between our countries, and that the USSR was closer to us than the Chinese. We could have found them a mutual enemy, and in light of that, it wouldn't be quite out of the question for the Russians to have stored away essential documents at the Consulate in case Moscow fell."

To the side Jeremiah was staring at her, his posture questioning as what she spoke of wasn't quite common knowledge even in the Brotherhood. It was information kept within the deeper archives, history that the scribes tended to carefully. She could only smirk behind her helmet as she wondered just what he was thinking, expecting more questions once they found a place to camp for the night. It didn't matter much though, not to her and not right now.

"There have been some vague mentions of an agreement like that, and points to a secured bunker beneath the Consulate to store classified information from both nations. Obviously we can't know for sure what is down there until we get there, but considering the untouched nature of the city it's likely we'll find at least something of value."

Hopefully that would satisfy his curiosity for now and give the rest of them something to think about. Her gaze passed over Monika for a moment, watching her recover and weighing her options carefully. The radiation level here was tolerable, but she wasn't sure if it would be worth the risk to have one of their medics examine her. Especially if their scouts came out of the tunnel in a hurry. Instead, she took the middle ground and gestured towards the smaller girl.

"Give her a glance over real quick. If it's urgent, we'll take up firing positions, otherwise we'll have to wait until first camp to treat any wounds or radiation poisoning."

---

With every step the local radiation levels increased, already in the red by the time the pair reached the central point of the tunnel and where the first carriage connected to the second. Here it had begun to twist, the violent derailing it suffered so long ago having flipped the entire train on its side. The weight of the tunnel above had also come down harder here, as the sides were not quite as resilient to that kind of pressure. What was presented to them was a crawlspace of crumpled metal and on the other side a darkened carriage.

Inside it was empty, completely devoid of bodies unlike the prior one, vague streaks across the floor to imply there had once been people there. They led in one singular direction, the only one available. By now their geiger counters had stopped functioning, past the maximum reading of a thousand rads. Despite the suits they would both feel a growing heat inside the subway car. Most of it was from the intensity of the radioactive field they were scouting, but something else was clearly at work the deeper they went. That much became clearer when the opening of the carriage was illuminated by a flashlight and the subtle blue glow beyond waxed just slightly.

A glint of something in the beyond caught the light here and there, throwing shadows across the tunnel and drawing their attention to the central rail. Still there was no sign of the bodies except the direction they had been taken, more and more debris formed along the sides of a narrow pathway until it simply spilled out onto the ground at the end of the carriage. Skulls and bones lay scattered across the dirt and stone, snapped and hollow as if drained of the marrow. Some even looked somewhat fresh, and it was on that revelation that a sickening crunch was heard from just in front of the pair.

Light played across a towering figure of hardened black angles, gore dripping from razored edges and pooling at its feet. Now as if realizing the danger before them, the wheeze of long-neglected pistons and gears carried around them. It was clad head to foot in a grotesque parody of power armor, ropes of sinew binding the various original pieces to the shattered frame. From the back, nothing seemed untouched by violence in some way or another. Bullet holes riddled the torso and thighs of the armor, many straight through from high-caliber penetrations that scattered light on the tunnel walls across from them. Scorch marks from flamers and laser impacts showed where at various points someone had tried to torch it or hit the weak joints, some of them obscured by crudely bolted on plates of steel, iron or even bone.

Yet it was the helmet that drew the most attention as the creature was occupied by its feeding, the swept-back structure of it marred by more battle-damage, including one lense blown out from what clearly looked like a plasma impact. To the average wastelander it might have been just another variant piece, perhaps one rarer than the others, but those few in the know would have recognized it immediately. For Devon and Emil however, they would get their revelation as the creature suddenly stopped moving. With a painfully slow turn of its upper body, it turned to regard the two onlookers, the remains of a ghoul in a metal-shod fist with fresh bite marks along the broken bone jutting from the corpse. Regardless of the display of cannibalism before them, everything about the creature screamed out that it should not be, that it should have died long before now. The damage the armor displayed from behind was nothing to what greeted them as it dropped its meal and regarded them fully.

More ramshackle repairs had been done to patch various holes in the chest and shoulder, glowing necrotic ooze leaking from obviously fresh bullet holes, and a still smoldering plasma-burn at the collar. Both gauntlets had the fingers sharpened to a point, the jagged edges showing where it had held them against a grinder and cut them with a torch. A section of its chest was completely missing, glowing blue ribs wet and twitching from the steady rhythm of its breath and now carrying a stench over to the scouts. It overpowered the filters in their hazmat suits, a smell of death rich and pungent, far worse than even the feral ghoul reavers. The creature crunched down on the fragments of bone remaining in its mouth, teeth of broken steel catching the light and dripping with gore. Staring back at them, thick staples held what was left of its face onto its skull, as if at one point it had been carved off and it tried to put it back on. Many hung loosely around the jaw and chin, the simple act of trying to feed itself tearing them loose and showing the necrotized muscle beneath.

Neither eye remained, only hollow sockets that tracked their every movement as if it could still see them, and it confirmed that as it slowly stood to full height, revealing that it had been mostly hunched over. Now towering in the tunnel, a single patch of pristine black paint caught the light. It was the one singular place that seemed untouched by the depravity and horror of the occupant, a brilliant white "E" surrounded by stars on the left shoulder. Then it spoke. Mouth cracking open for a use that was clearly unfamiliar to the abomination, its voice was akin to the first breath of an opened sarcophagus.

"You're not supposed to be here."

Few things in the wasteland made Emil's heart fill with pure and genuine fear. This grotesque parody of what is supposed to be a human being inside of butchered powerarmor he had never seen before was a new one to add to that short list. Emil had to force himself from gagging, in fear he might vomit what little remains inside of his stomach. His mind begged him to turn tail and run away, but he willed himself to resist the urge as he couldn't abandon his companion. His breath was heavy and sweat poured openly from his brow all the way down to his chin. Emil takes aim at the abomination as a warning to him -no- 'it' by taking aim at the creature's skull and setting the RCW to maximum power output; cutting his ammunition count by half as well as his rate of fire but creating beams far more powerful than normal. He glances to his side to see his companion. He hesitates for a moment. Words getting choked up and twisted in his throat. Finally, he musters up all the remaining courage in his being, just to speak in front of this abomination to life itself, to say a simple message to his companion:
"Run."

---

---

_{@Alfhedil @Cuddles 1438}

The sheer hulking size of the Power Armor was much more prominent as she drew closer to Khaliya, once summoned to her position. Frankie could almost smell the chemical compounds used in the smithing of the metals for the suit, that, and a mixture of hydraulic fluids and grease to keep the gears and other mechanisms in check. The young girl had always been shorter than most others she'd stood next to, but this time around, she felt more like a dwarf amongst iron giants. Speaking of which, the older man in the “medieval armor" reminded her of such a race in the old fantasy graphic novels she'd come across as a kid, except they never carried around a submachine...

Turning to the Paladin, Frankie couldn't help but arch an eyebrow at the commanding woman’s request to administer a quick assessment of the dark-haired girl who’d flipped out moments earlier. However, she suspected it wasn't just a physical exam that was being asked of her, but a psychological one as well, considering the detrimental effects radiation -and festering wounds, if any were present- would have on the fragile mind. Emotions already ran high within the group, giving way to paranoia in some and a myriad of other effects in others that made them seem less stable than they were. In either case, the medic was rather relieved to be of some use now, if for no other reason, than to keep her mind focused on why she was placed here to begin with.

“I'll do my best, ma’am.” She said in a confident tone of voice, although still unsure of just how Monika would react to such an impromptu exam. “But, ah, keep an eye out.”

Dealing with an unstable mind certainly wasn't new to the sixteen year old Medic, who’d seen more of her fair share of children and grown men and women slowly descend into maddened states that were near impossible to pull out of without days, weeks, or even months of therapy and medication. Sadly, in the wasteland, finding such meds for psychological ailments was about as simple as finding buried pirate gold. What hadn't been stripped away by time, was surely taken and hoarded by scavengers and the like. With a deep breath taken through the helmets oxygen supply, Frankie made her way over to the girl, who appeared to be keeping to herself as much as possible, perhaps out of habit, but the medic guessed it was out of embarrassment that may have stemmed from her sudden outburst. I mean, who wouldn't think that someone like that was deranged?

“Hey there.” She waved. “Monika, right?” Frankie stood a few feet from the other, holding tightly to the shoulder straps of her camo rucksack which held just about everything near and dear to her profession, and then some. “I-uh, just wanted to see how you were doing, and, ask if there was anything I could do to help.” The young girl smiled through the glossy faceplate of the helmet, unsure of the other could even see a genuine expression in the midst of so much uncertainty.

Emil was ready. To ensure the safety of his partner's retreat, he would have to make a proper distraction. His grip on his trusted laser RCW caused his knuckles to whiten underneath the gloves of the hazmat suit as he made the mental resolve to pull the trigger. Just as he was about to send a burst of hyper ionized light beams to the abomination's face he suddenly heard her apologize and felt a hand grasp his right arm and quickly pulling him back to their merry band of mercenaries. He actually stumbles and falls flat on his back as soon as Devon had stopped. He had to take a moment to assess the sudden and new environment and is quick to realize that they were back in the other side of the tunnel. Devon wasted no time to tell the group that the area beyond this collapse was not clear. He shakes his head side to side to remove the feeling of discombobulation before speaking. "Not clear is an understatement. There's a powerarmored abomination back there!"
Emil scrambles to stand back up and scrounge through his pack for his Energy Flintlock and a couple sticks of dynamite. Even if they had the whole party here, it would be wise to keep a contingency plan open. "I suggest everyone get ready, cause that thing is looking for trouble and is heading our way. VERY SOON."

@Dread

Monika was still shaking slightly. Her mind was most definitely not in the present any more, all she could hear was his voice. It was like shell shock, a deep ringing in her ears overlayed with his voice tormenting her and a blurring of her vision. She took her finger off the trigger of her gun, just in case. She didn't want to go shooting a teammate accidentally. But she just couldn't shake his image from her head, it clouded her every thought. She hadn't been this bad for at least a year and a half; the dreams, the flashbacks, the general bad memories. They had all mostly subsided. Could a simple change of surroundings and companions do that to her she thought?

"Hey there.”...“Monika, right?" The voice was soothing, it cut through her visions of Lucius and brought her back to reality. As the ringing and the blurring faded she spoke again. "I-uh, just wanted to see how you were doing, and, ask if there was anything I could do to help.” Everything came back to Monika. The tunnel, the collapse, the looks from the others at least she imagined the looks from the others. "Yeah, that's the name. You're... Frankie right? I can't tell in these fucking suits." Monika looked to the girl and through the visor she thought she could see... a smile "I'm-I'm fine, honestly, it's nothing. Besides, now isn't really the best place to go picking my brains, is it?

The scouts came back in a panic and cut their conversation short "Something coming eh? I suggest you get behind me. We can't risk you getting killed this early. Monika said as she ushered Frankie behind her with her arm and brought her rifle to the ready.

The railcar shook in their hurry to distance themselves from the creature on the other side of the collapse, dust falling from the ceiling and coating the floor as they passed. It stood there watching, eyeless sockets focused on Emil before he was taken around the bend by Devon and both were lost to "sight". That was the last either of them saw of it, and the moment they fell from the carriage and onto the ground Khaliya had her sword out and at the ready. Jeremiah followed suit as well, both paladins had their weapons ready before the danger was even mentioned.

"Firing positions!" The command came clear and concise over the shared channel, Khaliya at the front of the group and ready for a first contact that never came. A long moment passed, silence dominating the tunnel as all they heard was the subtle creak and groan of the concrete above them and their own breathing. She stood guard for as long as she felt the danger still possible, until finally she stood down, though her sword was still in her grip. There was no doubt in her mind that the two of them had encountered something on the other side, and part of her felt foolish for even suggesting the venture in the first place.

For now though, they had but one direction to move in, and they needed to do so in a hurry. Devon and Emil were shaken up, but the group couldn't afford to rest. "You." A power-armored finger pointed at Emil, his account most concise in the brief interlude after their exit from the subway train. "Now that it's not after you two anymore, we'll need a more concise description of it. Any distinguishing features of the armor or creature that could be relevant in case we have to face it later?" She was all business now, her mind working to get things in order and help the group focus. If they dwelled too long on the mere fear of their first encounter, then the expedition was doomed from the start. What they needed was not to be afraid of it, but to determine how to kill it.

Her attention was swiftly turned to Devon next, seeing her state mirroring Emil's and proving without a doubt that despite a couple murmurs from others, that the threat was very real. "Medics, check for tears and possible exposure. Evaluate their condition and let's be ready to get the hell out of here as fast as possible. I don't think any of us wants to linger here and find out if whatever they found is interested in following." A slight pause, her gaze wandering over Devon's suit and finding a distinct lack of gun. "And someone please give her a gun or something."

Marvin nodded at Khaliya's order and then took up position, kneeling down and keeping his rifle and his eyes on the carriage - just in case something other than their companions pop out of there. Someone behind them tried to ask about the USSR. He kept an ear out for anyone who would answer. He didn't know much about the topic as he wasn't exactly alive during the time before the Great War, no matter how he actually wished he was a Pre-War ghoul. They were just so damn awesome.

The ghoul didn't find himself surprised when Khaliya was the one to speak up abhout it - explaining that, yes, while the USSR was their rival, it didn't mean that they were always at odds against each other. They worked together before so it was entirely possible that there was something important in that bunker. She had a good point, if all of it were true. Then again, she did most likely get that information from the Brotherhood Archive, and those were usually real stolen files.

He could hear the mumbles of Frankie confronting the woman - Monika - about her sudden burst. Marvin was unsure how she would react. He knew a lot of people who would easily snap if they're asked about something psychological. Sounded like trauma too. But maybe it was just something else. Well, he didn't care right now. Perhaps he'll find out at some point.

Marvin narrowed his eyes when the two were running back to them and he leveled his scope so he was looking through it and prepared to shoot anything that was following them. But there was none. When the two came back, stumbling, warning them about something out there and that they need to get ready, everyone was on alert. Khaliya ordered them to get onto their firing positions and he simple gave a small nod in response. Seconds ticked by and he wasn't sure how long they've aimed the guns towards the entrance waiting for it.

"I don't think it's coming." He spoke out loud, even though he didn't mean to. He lowered his rifle and then turned his head ever so slightly to Emil and Devon - their two scouts. Khaliya was the one to ask them what sort of creature they saw. Yeah, more information would be nice just in case. Because they definitely were not going through there - ever. While he wasn't ecstatic about the idea of going aboveground, whatever monstrosity through there is preventing them from hiding underground.

"Looks like we have to go up top at this rate." He thought out loud once more, turning his head up to the roof of the underground tunnel. He still wasn't looking forward to this. He then looked over to Khaliya and Devon as the former asked for anyone to give the latter a gun. He had two extra sidearms but he wasn't sure if it would help in any long distance fighting.

He stood up from his position and then headed over to Devon. "I have an automatic pistol." He said, taking it out of its holster and waved it in front of him. "But if anyone has any extra rifles, then that would be better I think." Marvin wasn't exactly going to part with his revolver since that also has some semblance of sentimental value to him. Even more than the 10 mm pistol at the very least. If no one else stepped up to offer their guns, he would give Devon the pistol.

@AnneLynch @Searat @Alfhedil

@Alfhedil @Polaris North @AnneLynch

Emil took a shooting position near his original and waited for the abomination...and waited...and waited. It took approximately ten minutes before the paladins lowered their weapons and decided that whatever he and Devon encountered on the other side of the collapse, was not pursuing them. Emil recoiled slightly as the sword wielding paladin suddenly pointed to him. "You." She paused slightly. Now that it's not after you two anymore, we'll need a more concise description of it. Any distinguishing features of the armor or creature that could be relevant in case we have to face it later?" He glanced at the paladin and back to the mouth of the passage. He wasn't completely ready to look away from the passage, in fear that the thing could still arrive any moment, but he had to report the findings of their excursion to the other side. "The Geiger counter went bonkers, and I mean BONKERS, reaching levels beyond a thousand units of rads. Bones were scattered everywhere and seemed like something broke them open and ate the marrow. Some were even fresh..."

Emil pauses to gag at the memory of the smell and sight of the abomination. "Then we saw that...MONSTER." He spat the word out with disgust, as if it were an understatement to call it such. "It was huge. Clad in powerarmor like yours but it was blackened and seemed to be a twisted parody in a sense. It had a big 'E' with stars encompassing it on the left shoulder, too. Its armor's front was riddled with bullet holes, burns from energy weapons. It's helmet seemed a part of its skull and had chunks of armor revealing necrotic flesh and bones that glowed blue." He grimaced under the mask. "It spoke to us. It said: ""You're not supposed to be here." I was about to make a distraction so that the girl could escape, but that's when she grabbed me and pulled us both back here..."

When the scouts returned from their mission in a rush and panic, Servius was well aware that something was wrong without a word needing to said. Whatever had been on his mind in that moment, both the girl and her outburst and the information he had just received on the USSR, was pushed from his mind as the situation changed. He shifted into combat mode, as it were; he unsung Requis and checked it as loaded, nodding to Emil and taking a step in advance towards the tunnel and peering into it for a moment as he raised his rifle and took aim into the darkness. So far, he saw nothing following them. With his steps careful and steady as to not throw of his aim should the beast emerge, he drifted off towards the side and knelt down behind some fallen debris that covered up to about his ribcage after he knelt down, providing decent cover. By the time Khaliya had finished ordering them to firing positions, Servius was ready to blast whatever might emerge from the darkness to challenge the party - or die trying.

"Let us split the tin man open. If anyone has explosives, be ready to use them. Its maile will not break easily." Servius said. It's cadence was almost as though that of an order, although he certainly had no authority to give it. Force of habit, perhaps, had stopped him phrasing it as a suggestion in the heat of the moment.

Power armour. He'd killed men (and women) wearing it before, brotherhood knights and paladins from both the midwest and on the west coast chapters, experienced fighters with the equipment and technology to back up their abilities. He had fired the shots that had brought down several of their number and had even killed one in melee combat, for which he'd received quite the praise and honours from the Centurion. They were never easy fights; he had seen their armour deflect bullets and attacks that would have ripped an unarmoured man in half as if they were nothing. They had been far, far greater threats than even the most ardent of the NCRs troopers. Still, Servius expected that by now he had at least some idea on where to shoot to bring this abomination down, he would see whether what he had learned fighting the brotherhood would also apply to whatever this was. And so he waited, weapon at the ready for the target.

And he waited.

And waited.

And... nothing. Not even a shifting shadow nor a footstep to mark the passing of something else. No sound at all save for the creaking of centuries old concrete and girder, and the occasional echo of a distant drip of dew that had perhaps fallen in with the rain and seeped down into the underground. There was nothing but the sounds that one would expect from an abandoned underground tunnel. Perhaps whatever this beast they had encountered was, it was not as hostile as they had initially believed or at the very least, it was not aggressive enough to waste its time chasing them down the tunnel. Else perhaps it had been either unable or unwilling to chase them through the tunnel. Hmph.

He stood up slowly from the ground and still, although it now seemed that nothing was following, Servius didn't drop his guard; he was well aware it could be a ruse and kept his weapon focused on the gap. It could easily be looking for an alternative path as well, perhaps it realised that this choke point would be a disaster and had instead sought another route or otherwise was now lying in wait further along the tunnel, ready to destroy them the moment they dared venture into the darkness.

Hearing Khaliya again and then Marvin, Servius spoke in response. He was rather surprised that the group had nothing more to offer than a 10mm pistol, he had expected from the look of everyone that they had more equipment than that. Apparently this was not the case and that was perhaps cause for concern given the place they were entering. Perhaps he would ask if they could take inventory later so they knew what the unit had to work with. Still, what was done was done.

"Not a rifle, but I've got a 12.7 submachine gun. Stay on overwatch and cover me, I'm moving over." He reported as he quickly and softly slipped across the room, keeping an eye on the tunnel at all times. He kept each step as light and quiet as he can, not wanting to give away anything to the creature should it have been listening for them or trying to observe them before it struck. As he reached Devon, he took note of how she seemed to be at least on the surface calmer and more composed about this than Emil was; he seemed on edge and jumpy, having fallen over once they had escaped the tunnel, and from the rapid description he was giving them it had clearly shaken him up. While her heavy breathing and the speed with which she had exited the tunnel clearly betrayed that she had seemed something, it seemed not to have shaken her as deeply as it had shaken him. He gave her a quick nod and, letting his rifle temporarily fall to his sling, he took the 12.7mm SMG and an extra magazine of ammunition from his side, handing it over to Devon - or perhaps more accurately described as practically thrusting it into her hands. Khaliya was right about this, if this power armoured thing came barging into the room, knives were not going to cut it. She needed a gun and a 12.7mm had a far better chance of piercing this beings armour than her knives did; An extra gun firing was an extra chance of someone getting lucky.

"12.7mm sub machine gun. Powerful and rapid, reliable and short ranged. Perfect for these close tunnels. Watch the kick. Take it. Debate not until later, once we are certain that everyone's safe. For now, be armed and alert." Servius said matter of factly, releasing the weapon into her possession and then taking Requis with both hands again, taking aim at the tunnel as he slipped back across the room towards some cover and kneeling down, making sure there were a couple of meters between him and any other member of the group.

Re-assuming his firing stance, the Legionary waited for instructions to fall back. Khaliya had apparently assuming something of the role of Decanus and so Servius would follow her authority; at the very least she seemed to be the one who was most aware of what was going on and certainly seemed to be very experienced. From his timing fighting the Brotherhood, he knew they were not a force to be underestimated and was certain that she was thus one of the best of the group to lead. His mind dwelt on what Emil had said about the thing they faced; it had spoke which could be either a good sign or a bad sign. Perhaps it was not as aggressive as they had first expected - or perhaps it was simply too smart to charge them and would instead stalk them and wait for an opening. The latter was a very grim proposition, to his mind. Still, if it had bullet holes and had sustained a large amount of damage to its armour to the point that its ribs were visible, its armoured shell was already compromised and thus they would have a far easier time penetrating it. On the other hand, if the helmet had fused to its skull as he had suggested - that could be either very good for them by compromising the protection it provided, or very very bad. It would be hard to tell which until he had tried to shoot it in the head...

An E surrounded by stars. That founded painfully familiar by now, as Servius had come to grow far more familiar with the symbology of the Enclave as of late. Servius grimaced a little and kept his eyes peering into the dark through the visor of his hazmat suit. So, the Enclave had sent people in here... how long ago had that been, he wondered? He pushed the question from his mind for now; he could not afford for his concentration to be compromised. Instead he went back quickly to thinking over the description he had been given and focusing on the darkness, ready to take aim at anything which might try to emerge after them...

[ New York City Metro - Blue Line ]

Firing positions
The order had been uttered only a second-or-two before John's anxious nerves fired off in unison, his right arm sweeping across his body towards his hip, a motion that was as fluid and experienced as a soldier's, revealing his past experiences. But there was a stumble at the end as John all-too-late remembered that he had moved the Blaster to his satchel. His recovery, drawing his revolver from the bag, was sloppier than his initial quick-draw; the flaw of unfamiliarity.

Nevertheless, John outstretched his right arm, finger brushing near the trigger towards the bleak maw of the train car that Emil and Devon had practically stumbled out of moments before. As soon as he did, his killer instinct had came to the forefront. No longer was he the grizzled alcoholic dressed like a television character. No, his stance, his grip on the gun, his eyes (which none could thankfully see) all bore the mark of a trained killer. It was like flipping a switch, old habits.

But there was just silence. Damned, damned silence. John was growing sick of it, his mind filling in noises where none seemed to be. Even the creaks of the Old World turning over in its sleep sounded to him like the footsteps of a titan; the displacement of the earth a shambling Feral; the storms in the distance like cracking gunfire.

That was the worst of it, John concluded. At least in this part of the Necropolis. In battle there was adrenaline, focus, fear refined into strength. An enemy to fight, to kill. But in the dead of silence there was just the self. Fear cannibalizing itself, turning to paranoia, anxiety. Men would start shooting at shadows - then each other - then themselves.

It gnawed at him, his heart beating in his chest like a drum in his ears. The helplessness of not knowing where or what to shoot.

"Fuck..." John muttered under shaky breath, recollecting his nerves.

Tension in the group seemed to settle, at least enough for them to start lowering their weapons. Holding out a second longer than the rest, John slowly returned the Blaster to his satchel, not even realizing how his arm ached from being outstretched til he had done so. It was out of the corner of his eye he saw Frankie tending to Monika, a brief wave of suspicion coming over him like the chill of winter. Though she appeared to recover from her outburst well enough, it did little but only disturb John's already-shaky view towards her, and, by extension, the rest of the mercenaries.

There was a simplicity to motivation. The Brotherhood had its issues, no doubt, but clarity wasn't one of them. At the very least, John could respect that. The Paladins leading them, they could all make their speeches and illusions of camaraderie, but they were here for the technology. Just like John was here for the Synths. And the rest, he supposed...were here for the ride.

But if Emil's description ran true: a Ghoul fused to Power Armor. Well, maybe he'd have something to shoot at after all.

As he kept watching the group recover from the encounter, he noted one of them offering his own weapon to Devon, something that John couldn't help but scoff at. To give away your gun to a stranger was asking to be shot in the back. Altruism, goodwill, all of it was a sham when it boiled down to survival. World changed, but people hadn't. This newcomer, whether out of misguided helpfulness or whatever-the-sort, he was asking for trouble.

You could help all you want, but the world won't thank you for it.

@Searat @Alfhedil

Bailey looked over at Emil when he gave his description of the ghouls power armor, An E surrounded by stars is the logo of the Enclave.

"Power Armor eh? I'd quite like to get a look at it in that case..."

Bailey stands up in preparation to move and turns her gaze to Khaliya.

"I don't think you and your buddy are gonna fit through that passage easily, you know of any other ways around?"

She stands occasionally looking down the rail car and still keeping her rifle at the ready, If possible she wants to recover the troopers dog tags and maybe use the armor for herself depending on it's condition.

Brian Short-Fuse Muller wasn't put on edge by the whole situation that was unfolding itself around them. Especially not the prosect of going underground in the old-world metro, dark and ominous as it was. On the contrary Short-Fused found the dark corners, low ceiling and crowded space familiar, even going as far as comfortable. That was what he had grown up in, narrow tunnels and deep mines down South. The radiation, altough dangerous all right - even a nut would acknowledge that - didn't unsettle him. They had the suits and Rad-X for that.

What made him light up like a Christmas tree, possibly a nuclear Christmas tree that had just gone off, was the mention of a "monster". Now normally that in itself would make Brian set off to the front like he did, but something in the way this "monster" was described gave him the feeling that there was a higher need for weapons more potent than rifles and pistols to take it out. And who else in their little merry rag-tag group of misfits was better equiped to deal with power armoured monster than the self-proclaimed demolitions expert Short-Fuse himself?

While some of their group went over to their unnarmed companion Devon, Short-Fuse walked casually up to their unofficial leader Khaliya and the others grouped up around her. It was clear that he wasn't too concerned about whatever horror that lurked inside that metro carrige. In-fact Short-Fuse still smiled like he always did, resting his 12 gauge shotgun under his arm and fiddling with a few sticks of dynamite. "Maybe ya'll should have told the gook to mind his own business?" Short-Fused said jokingly to Emil in his thick Texas-accent, before turning to Bailey as she commented that the passage was perhaps too narrow. "That could always be set straight, ma'am, with a few of these babies. Might scare of the critter in there too?"

---

---

“Well, hey, just know I'm here if-”

The young medic was cut off in her response to Monika as a loud sound in distance followed by the haste return of the two scouts shifted everyone's attention. Frankie pulled out the 9mm from its holster without hesitation, quickly checking that a bullet was held in the chamber. While she may not be a marksman or have a particular fondness of firearms, the young girl could hold her own if needed. Although it wasn't so much her own proficiency with the pistol that concerned her, but more so its effectiveness against whatever happened to be crawling out of the wreckage beyond.

The girl cocked her head slightly as Monika took it upon herself to essentially protect Frankie, even though it wasn't necessary.

“Hey look, I appreciate that, but-”

Before she could finish, she quickly glanced over to see both Emil and Devon making a beeline toward the front where the Paladin stood at the ready, their breathing heavy and erratic as the two finally came to a stop.

Something was coming, but what?

As Emil recounted the experience in between heavy breaths, doing his best to explain to Khaliya what he may have seen, all the while his voice streaming over the open channel. But whatever it was didn’t sit well with Frankie in the slightest. Sure, it was about as inhumanly human as it could get, but what the heck was it? Power Armor fused to its head? A ghoul on steroids? As ever present as radiation was with that area, the vast amounts within should have killed off anything threatening, or in this case,created something even more destructive...

The medic nodded toward the armor-clad group leader, scarcely hesitating as the woman’s request to provide aid to the two scouts came in loud and clear through the comms. “I'm on it, ma’am.” Her voice was steady and confident as she quickly made her way over to the scouts, placed her medical rucksack on the ground, and pulled out a handheld meter to gauge vitals as well as any radiation exposure. Devon was closest, and while she seemed to be recovering from the sprint back, Frankie checked the woman’s suit for any breaches; even the tiniest pinhole would be a cause for concern. After a few moments, she was clear and the medic moved on to Emil who still appeared pretty shaken up.

“I'll only be a minute, but try to hold still if you can.” Frankie gave the guy a nod before scanning over the suit, and running her gloved hands along folds and creases to flatten them out for a better look. “You might also might want to slow your breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth.” Her voice was calm, steady, and confident. “Try it a few times.”

The young girl continued her diagnostics, the active Geiger meter showing high amounts of radiation along the lower part of the man's body. She ran the device along his left leg and the needle spiked around his joint. And that’s where she found a one inch slice just along the side of the knee. Going down on one knee, Frankie slipped a thin flashlight out of her bag and pointed the beam into the small hole.

Good. There didn't appear to be a wound present.

“Alright bud, you have a small breach in the suit down here at your knee.” She gently tapped, indicating the area with her finger. “Nothing to worry about since I can easily fix that up.” She said, pulling the patch kit from her bag. “However, the level of exposure to this area is higher than the rest of your body so you may feel a bit of joint discomfort for while, but nothing really all that debilitating. I do have a plenty of radiation meds available if you need it, however I’d suggest not taking them until you’re certain you will, because while they do the trick, they also don’t agree with the stomach too often.”

And with that, Frankie opened up the patch kit and went to work on repairing the small opening in the suit, hoping as well that Emil’s exposure was not any worse that what she’d initially calculated.

Enclave. The symbol and its meaning was not lost on either Khaliya or Jeremiah, each reacting in their own way. For her part, she treated it with surprising indifference. Simply taking down the information and processing it, ensuring that when and if the group met the creature again they would know exactly how to take it down. If it had been, or still was, Enclave in the past then that meant that in addition to having advanced and capable power armor, it was innately skilled in the use of it. "Understood Emil, if we see it again, then we'll kill it." All business, no fuss. Even with the helmet it was clear that she was paying no more heed to the matter than necessary, and was already moving on towards the next objective. Her husband was not quite as detached from former grudges however, and even as her thoughts turned towards speaking to him, he spoke out to the group.

"No, we kill it now." Bold words and spoken with righteous fury, the kind that was not unusual to those who served during the Brotherhood-Enclave war. Yet for all of his reasons, this was not the time or the place, and with just a glance around the group her concern grew. If he maintained this stance, then the already palpable tension between the two of them and the others would reach a breaking point. When that happened, it wouldn't matter if they had the power armor, the skills or weapons. Both of them would meet an end right here and now, and there would be nothing they could do about it except take as many of them with them as they could.

While she wasn't entirely sure about Jeremiah, she was determined not to meet that end just yet, as she still had a mission to complete. "Don't be foolish. If we go down that tunnel, we would just be feeding ourselves to it one by one. These two barely made it back, and they're not in power armor." A metal-shod finger pointed to both Emil and Devon, making not just Jeremiah but the rest of them keenly aware of the difference in size between the hazmat suits and the armor. "It isn't giving chase for now, and it might not at all. Even if killing it was on the table right now, our best and only chance at doing so would be to lure it here into the tunnel where all of our guns and armor are."

A nod here and there came in affirmation, though she was sure that it was more so for the prospect of not feeding the group single-file through a cramped and crushed subway train. It wasn't tactically sound, even to the most novice of them, and it put them in a dangerously weak position. Either her or Jeremiah would have to lead the way, likely by forcing a path through and if they got stuck… It was simply too much risk, but he wasn't having any of it.

"I'll be damned if we just sit by and let something like that live." And for just that brief moment, she felt herself slip just a little. Rare did she feel the red come over her senses, only ever in the most intense moments of battle, or when someone pushed her just that bit too far. Never before had she been that way with Jeremiah, but he had let his ego and desire for vengeance get the better of him. No matter that it had been years since Sarah, or that their war with the Enclave was long over. For many of their people, it wasn't over as long as there was a single one of them left.

"Paladin Bertrand, private channel. Now." Silence dominated the open channel for that long moment, both Brotherhood paladins staring across the station at each other. Khaliya from her vantage point on the platform itself, facing the group and her husband. Jeremiah from the tracks just a few strides from Emil, Devon and the open end of the carriage buried in rubble. Neither moved for the duration of their conversation, and their helmets conveyed little in the way of expression. Yet for all of that, it very much looked like things were coming to a head and in a hurry.

"Jeremiah, stand down right now." She hissed the words through clenched teeth and barely constrained irritation, feeling every bit as if the mission was on the line. If he committed to this choice, then it very much could be, and she couldn't let him continue with it.

"You know we can't just let it get away! How many more could there be? What if the Enclave is waiting right around the corner for us, ready to take down the group one by one as we leave the station?" Always so sure of the threat, he couldn't see that their enemy was gone, that it was no longer an enemy at all. Part of her wanted to yell at him over the channel, to shout him down into submission and get things back in order, but instead she took a deep breath and calmed herself. If she came at him with emotion, then he would do the same and… As much as she wanted to believe she would win that, she knew by now that it wouldn't quite go the way she wanted.

"We are in the most dangerous place on the East Coast, and perhaps in the whole damn wasteland, Jeremiah. In here, we need to work together and carefully consider every threat we take on." It was exactly what she had said to him that night when he agreed to come with her. He had his doubts about the Necropolis and the potential within, as the Brotherhood had sent patrols in every so often and none ever returned with anything substantial. Though it wasn't that which had given him those doubts, but that he had not actually spoken with the Pariah or seen them for himself. Taking on a mission from an outsider, especially one that he didn't know, that was what made him wary.

"I am aware of that, Khaliya. We still nee-"

"No. Remember what I said. No Brotherhood, no Enclave, there is only the mission. The people in this group are here because they have a specific purpose to fulfill, a specific skill. I asked you to come along because I trust you, and I need you to have my back. You said once before that you would do anything for me, is that right?"

Silence over the channel, his posture shifted just a little bit. Shoulders dropping a fraction, her words had the intended effect, and she hated herself for it. Using people had never been something she liked to do, even if it was for the good of the mission or for their own benefit, but while she could stand it when dealing with strangers… Having to do this hurt. Luckily for both of them, he couldn't see her face and the way it twisted with anguish over putting him through this.

"It's always been like that…"

"Then stop this. What you're doing, it's not in the interest of the mission, it's to satisfy the vendetta you and the rest of our order has against the Enclave. If you go down that tunnel, you would be dying for a grudge. A grudge that has long since been met with blood and to continue down that road only courts more. I need you to be able to look past that, to come with us and ensure this group gets where it needs to go." She paused, biting at her lip as she carefully considered the next words. There needed to be more resolve than feeling if she was to see this mission through, and though he wouldn't like it and she would hate herself for it, she had to ensure his own loyalty.

"You swore your life to me, just as I swore mine to you. I need to know, are you still willing to die for me if that is what it takes?"

It was just shocking enough to work, to get him focused back on the mission and moving away from the railcar. "Of course, Khaliya." With that, they both shifted back to the open channel, where she addressed the rest of them.

"Not ideal by far, but yes we have to go above ground. What was on the other side of the collapse will likely not be the worst the city has to offer, but so long as we play it safe and only engage when we have to…" Her gaze lingered on her husband for a moment, just to reinforce the point a little more. "We will reach our objective, and we will make it out of this city alive." There was no point to drawing things out longer than necessary, only that she saw Servius turn over a spare weapon to Devon, and that the rest of them were ready to move.

Her steps cracked the tile of the platform as she made her way towards the stairs, flickering lights illuminating the towering form of her armor and casting a long shadow back into the tunnel.

@HamakazeKai@ONL@Dread
Emil attempted to keep himself from breathing too hard as Frankie suggested. It was hard but doable, and in a scant few seconds heavy breaths became more and more steady and significantly calmer. He found out that their little escape had caused a little cut to appear on his left leg, never would have noticed if Frankie hadn't done the check up. While she started patching up the cut, he began to check if he felt any nausea, fatigue, or any of the nasty effects of radiation poisoning. Nothing was apparent, aside from the nausea he felt when he saw the abomination."Thanks Doc. Didn't even see that cut there." He then turns to face Bailey. "Baily, I don't think that you'd like to see what that...thing was. It's body was practically fused with the armor if I base it on how it's head looked like." Then casts his gaze upon the shotgun wielding dynamite fiddling man that sounded like the cowboys he'd heard from pre-war holotapes. "Normally, I'd agree to using explosives to widen the path." He points to the already decrepit crumbling ceiling and walls of the tunnel with a free hand and talks once again. "But I don't want to bury ourselves under hundreds of tonnes of cement, sir. Nor, do I want that insult to life surviving the blast and be THOROUGHLY pissed off."

He was rather shocked to see that one of the BOS paladins was almost hellbent on going through and try to kill the powerarmored ghoul. The paladin and Khalia then conversed with one another, it wasn't any business Emil had a right to butt in and kept his focus on himself and the others before he heard Khalia and offers her a weary but firm nod.

Servius watched the two Paladins curiously for a moment, his eyes lingering on the male paladin. Insubordination. Between two of the same, none the less. This was perhaps a bad omen for them and this mission. Perhaps this was how the brotherhood types operated.

The male paladin wanted to kill it, he longed to slaughter it. This made Servius grim indeed; he recalled in great detail the lesson he had been told of the Lone Ranger, the many soldiers lost to the haste and fury of a foolish Decanus. And here another soldier was making such a mistake, blinded by hatred and pride and fury. The sight of the red mist and the willingness to act with insubordinance was not good for any warrior, but he was surprised to see it afflicting one from the Brotherhood. From his experience fighting the Midwestern Brotherhood, he had judged the knights of the brotherhood disciplined from their training, yet perhaps the chapter of the brotherhood these two belonged to suffered from the lack of self-discipline that afflicted the profligate troopers of the bear. Perhaps this Paladin Bertrand would benefit from such a story, and a firm scalding. As Khaliya rightly pointed out, any attempt to take the fight to the enemy here rather than lure it out was suicidal at best. Still, he seemed willing to throw himself into such a hopeless fray. At least he was brave. A fool perhaps, but a brave fool.

Whatever the case, it was not his place to speak on the matter (and indeed, they had invited no speech by switching to a private channel), and thus he kept his thoughts entirely to himself, turning his attention back to the tunnel and maintaining his vigil.

Emil was right. This being had not come after them. It was entirely possible that it held no malicious intent towards them - in which case blowing up the tunnel in an attempt to kill it was a surefire way to change that, for naught was a better way to anger something than to try, and fail, to kill it. That said, calling it an insult to life was harsh. That ghoul had survival - its mental faculties apparently intact - for a reason, whatever that reason was; whether it was strength or guile or sheer dumb luck, it had endured in this dangerous place and that was admirable. It would make a powerful warrior, doubtlessly. Whether they were it's enemy or not, who was Emil to judge its very existence insulting? Mars could claim right to such an opinion, but no living man bore such a privilege.

Once Khaliya switched back to the public channel and relayed their instructions, Servius nodded. It was time to move again and continue with their task, and he was glad of it. They has already lingered in this place too long, they needed to keep moving before something worse found them.

"Audio." He replied in acknowledgement, having realised that through the hazmat suit a nod was almost impossible to detect. He would be glad once they could remove these suits, he felt too fragile in it; and tear or damage might expose him, it was not like armour wherein one might shrug off many blows. Certainly, he didn't want to get a fight whole dressed in it.

Servius waited for the rest of the group to fall in after the paladin and took up a rear guard position at the back, keeping his eyes peeled for any sign they were being followed by their mutated host. It was time to ascend from darkness and into the streets of Necropolis, where fouler things than Ghouls might lurk, gnawing upon the carcass of this concrete jungle...

[ New York City Metro - Blue Line ]
@Alfhedil

Ghouls in Power Armor, Paladins arguing, and a Texan demolitionist. There had to be a joke in there somewhere. Finally as relaxed as he could be, now that the present danger seemed to remain in the tunnel, John set about pacing, more out of boredom than anything else. He'd never been one for standing still, not unless a drink or a woman was involved. There was the added benefit of keeping his legs stretched and moving. Staying still too long, it froze you up, made your feet clumsy. But his legs weren't thanking him at the moment. Each step brought that familiar ache in his bones, no doubt from arthritis starting to set into his joints. A few hard falls will do that to you.

Back home, there were usually enough drinks around to make sure he stopped feeling anything. But there was always the morning after to remind him of what's left. As bitter as the piss the Commonwealth called beer. He'd flirted with the idea of trying a harder chem here or there to see if it'd do the trick. He'd certainly been offered a hit in the past. But no, he had at least enough moral fiber to know where that road would take him. Some of those addicts...started looking more like Ghouls than Ghouls did. Course, he probably wasn't much better looking than they were, but he had his mind, at least. Cynical, maybe, but still sharp.

Frankie had moved on from Monika and started tending to Emil, who had a tear in his suit as well. 'Jesus, half of them'll be ferals by midnight.' John thought to himself with almost shocked disbelief. Not even to the first checkpoint, one potential hostile, and two suit breaches. Well...he's faced worse odds. It was times like this he really needed a cigarette.

The stunned silence left by the male Paladin's momentary insubordination was placated by Khaliya's new commands, head above-ground. On the one hand, open space seemed less tactically sound, not as defensible. But if Old-World stories were anything to go by, nothing holy grew underground when mixed with radiation. John would take his chances in the streets: if anything, the roads and alleyways would be more familiar for him, and his quarry.

But playing it safe when the Necropolis had a loaded deck, well, that was a gamble John was less-than-thrilled at taking. With the group coming to formation once more, John stayed around the outskirts of the middle, keeping a close eye on Frankie, as he could. The overgenerous one took a spot near the rear guard, and the rest seemed to find a place most comfortable for them. But John didn't have a soldier's mind, he just walked with the rest of them, keeping an itchy trigger finger at the ready.

Debris littered the main floor of the station, cracked terminals still reading out the last entries of a day two hundred years ago and waiting for the first curious soul to brush across their keys. Seepage dripped from the ceiling through fissures in the concrete, the acidic nature of the downpour outside causing hissing, steaming pools of water here and there. The very fact that there was anything present here besides walls and ceiling was enough reassurance for a few. Khaliya among them quietly set it aside as a bit of good luck. Anywhere else in the wasteland, a distinct lack of human presence would be seen as ideal, even if it meant the area had been looted. Here in a dead city all it did was serve as a dire warning that no matter how well prepared they were, in actuality they weren't. Nothing set off her survival instincts more than an absolute absence of life, and it was a feeling shared.

"Paladin." The voice over the open channel was that of the Talon Leader Prism, her tone low as if the walls could hear and she preferred greatly that they didn't. It was the first time she had addressed anyone at all since their departure, and that she made contact with her specifically made her raise her guard instinctively. "It should be starting to get dark above ground soon, if it hasn't already. We should seek shelter for the night so that we can regroup and reassess the mission."

It was a smart move, one that she already intended on doing, something Prism likely knew. What this was was a show of solidarity. They had just been given a very direct reminder that there were others in the Necropolis, and that if they weren't outright hostile then they most certainly did not appreciate the group's presence. She did a quick scan of the room as she paused, holding a gauntlet up to signal everyone to hold. Before them were the stairs to the surface, dim light at the very top where rain poured down. The sky couldn't be seen quite yet, but she knew it was already dark out due to the storm. It would be dark for much of their journey, but keeping to the daylight hours was for the best anyways.

Behind them as the last of the group made it to the lobby were the stairs going back down to the platform and the way they came. Even if it wasn't for the so called power-ghoul, there was no going back now that they had already made it to those first steps above ground. Her eyes scanned the various stands set up, skeletons laying where the people had died in the very brief time they had left after nuclear fire swept the city. A few were scattered along the steps here and there, signs that some might have survived the initial impact and tried in desperation to find shelter in the subway tunnels. It was a bitter reminder of the sheer loss of life so long ago, but of no help to them.

Turning, she found an information kiosk with green still lighting the screen of the terminal. Though no expert in computers, it took little to access the basics. "There's a bank just down the street from surface entrance." She said, metal fingers still clicking across the keyboard. It meant a run across open ground and through the acid rain, but she was confident they could do it. "It's referenced as a main branch of a local bank, so should be decently fortified. Might even have low enough radiation levels for us to take off the suits. Everyone good with this? We'll likely have to book it after checking to make sure the surface is clear."

Marvin watched as another person gave a submachine gun to the gunless girl - a way better option than a mere pistol. He holsted back his secondary weapon, or was it tertiary consdidering he was keeping it around just in case both his rifle and his revolver lost bullets? Ah whatever. He then stuck around the group with his hand on the strap of his rifle, now finding it completely pointless to continue pointing at a passage where the supposed monster was at. Emil went on to describe the monster they had encountered.

Oh. His eyes quickly flickered to the two Brotherhood Paladins in their vicinity. Of course, he couldn't see their faces thanks to their helmets but he was sure that at least one of them was disgruntled by this fact. And indeed, there was one of them who reacted violently - wanting to kill it right here and now. Of course. The Brotherhood-Enclave War had happened quite a few years ago, but he had no doubts that it was still etched on any Paladin. Khaliya, however, took control over the situation by speaking to her partner in a private channel.

A smile tugged up on his face as Frankie found a tear in Emil's suit. "Oh come on, being a ghoul ain't half bad." He commented in a joking manner before scratching the side of his cheek. "That is if you don't turn feral." He let out a lighthearted laugh, as if the prospect didn't scare him. Well, it really didn't. He's seen enough humans turn feral after a breach like that happened. Though, he didn't want to lose any allies over something as stupid as radiation.

The ghoul then looked away from their leader when she and her partner had stopped their little argument. Really, he wasn't holding it against Paladin Bertrand for having a grudge against the Enclave ghoul monster. It was just human. They were all humans. Grudges are kept for a long time. The ghoul had learned to let go of grudges that span from way back, but that's only because he was confident he outlived his problems. For the humans, however, their lives are still short. Memories are still fresh. Being hurt is unforgivable, and in this world, being hurt is normal.

Khaliya went on to order them to go top side - above ground. Marvin made it quite clear from his face that he didn't like it, but there was no choice so he didn't voice his displeasure. As the group started to move, he took his rifle into his hands once again and ran up close to the front of the group - close to their leader - just like his position from earlier. But he was closer to Khaliya this time, just in case the woman needed to take a look at the map once again or just wanted to bounce some ideas off of. He still wasn't perfectly fine with having her around, but she proved to be quite levelheaded.

The radio buzzed to life as Prism voiced her observation and suggestion and Khaliya was inclined to agree, no doubt thinking of the same thing. Huh, a Talon Company Merc and a Broterhood Paladin agreeing? Never thought he'd see the day. He looked back at the others for a moment, to assess how they were moving. They still seemed alright, despite it nearing nighttime. He wondered who would take the first shifts. They couldn't possibly sleep all at the same time, unless they want their supplies stolen or throats slit. The ghoul stopped when Khaliya signalled for them to stop as they looked up at the stairs. Figuring that his rifle would do more harm than good, he unholstered his revolver and began to proceed slowly forward to the lobby.

He made a quick sweep of the area with the others. He hadn't disturbed anything, at the very least. He looked at the skeletons and pursed his lips. How many had died during the bombing? And how many died after? Marvin could have easily became a lump of bones for people to feel sorry for, buth e was right here. Despite all odds, he was here. He let a sigh escape his lips as he turned to Khaliya who had checked a terminal for any information. She had found a bank, a main branch at that, so Marvin saw why it would have been fortified.

"Sounds like a grand place." He commented as he holstered his revolver and brought his rifle back up. Marvin turned to the stairs that led to the surface where rain was pouring. "So long as you guys can take off your suits. I don't think you'll be able to sleep, or even rest... or eat... with those on." Marvin wasn't worried about the location for him, but rather because of the rest of the group filled with humans. Like. They're too fragile. He can't really even remember the time when he was still human. It was such a distant memory that he felt that it was surreal.

"So, let's run there?" He suggested jokingly, knowing that they'd probably be moving slowly and surely. After all, what if that ghoul power armor monster wasn't the only thing like that? Or what if something was more dangerous than that. Marvin couldn't imagine it, but he was pretty sure it existed in this hellish landscape.