A wise person once said that love is a battlefield. This is... probably not what they meant. Although, funny story? The Shogun said something similar at her bachelorette party, and this is absolutely what she meant.

"Just wait right here, love," she says with the most loving and tender stroke of Sara's cheek in recorded history, "I don't want this to delay our vows any more than it has to."

Euna smiles dreamily as she turns toward this bunch of dead people goons. She gives all of her guests in the audience a little wave. It's always about playing to the cameras when Comstar is involved. And then she transforms from a bride into a silver comet, bending impossibly around the field of armed troopers and edgelord bridesmaids as if they weren't in her way at all. Blink and you'll miss it: she's already standing in front of the cannon. Now, if you're an Errant fan you're probably expecting her to heroically jump in front of the beam and save her wedding guests or something.

But you'd be wrong! She lifts a leg up all the way over her head, completely heedless for a moment of the fact that she's in a skirt that does not modestly allow for this sort of move, and crushes the floor underneath it with a vicious axe kick. She jumps twelve feet into the air and punches the cannon just as it finishes charging, bending the barrel and crumpling the entire off-balance edifice in on itself. Will it scatter itself across the multiverse? Will it break? Explode? Who knows? Who cares! It's in the way! She lands, and blurs again.

[spending one (1) hold to redirect an attack]

What follows can only be described as an orgy of violence. Euna is as good as her word. Her legs bend impossibly as she stalks forward toward Comstar, and every time they do there's a snap and a howl and another person drops to the floor even though by all appearances she hasn't touched anyone. Guns fire all over, everywhere but where she is. She is inevitable. Inexorable. She is white, bridal Death. She rears a hand back and slaps Comstar hard enough for the sound to ring out all the way to the back rows, jerking her head all the way to her shoulder.

"Get. Off. Of. My. Altar!"

[Directly Engage: 11 again. Avoid blows and Impress/Surprise/Frighten]

You’d normally expect to see Sara whip out a phone or a camera drone and start streaming the awesomeness in front of her. But, nah. Not today. And there are a couple of reasons for that.

Number one, she’s watching Euna, starry-eyed and sighing. She really did rub off on her, huh? This is a total @SARAHPHIM move: breaking the cannon, mowing through the minions with brutal but non-lethal takedowns, smacking around Comstar. She rubs her cheek and watches the love of her life take the vestigial stick out of her ass to beat Comstar to within an inch of her life.

Hell. Fucking. Yes.

Oh, and (old habits die hard) also on her mind: the audience is full of versions of her, which means that Sarasylph has her shakycam pointed at the ceiling as she obliviously reacts with squeaks and tiny cheers, Phimmy’s got a director’s beret and curled mustache and an entire film set she pulled out of her leggings, TigerCam and Sarrrrrrrrrra Shanties and Last Bloom Of Twilight Light and The 1001 Streams are all recording this orgy of violent bridal rage for all time.

She’s not going to insult Euna by stepping in. This is her one chance to be Bridezilla, and that means it’s Sara’s job to look fab, not get kidnapped, and kiss her after she yeets Comstar through a stained glass window. Or possibly into the line of fire of her own stupid cannon. In fact...

“Hey, honey!” She points at the ominously whining cannon. “Throw her! Throw her!”

"Shut up. Who said we're arguing?" said Dominus. "You're just projecting - you're-you're-you're-" is she drunk? "I'm as free as a bird. Do you remember freedom, America? Huh?" she's drifted up onto stage just in time to be dramatically backlit as Errant yeets Comstar directly into the centre of her exploding device at @Sarahphim's direction. There is a flash of energy and a shriek as Comstar is sent on a magical journey to the farthest distances of the cosmos. Legend says that you can watch her stream to this very day, performing puppet shows in a backwater Felorian town for the entertainment of small children.

"That's right, freedom," said Dominus, taking the stage, accepting a microphone from a waiting goon. "You know about that, right? Just you, your motorbike, your company of pro-government terrorists and the open road? Having a goal and working towards it every day? Guys, keep her busy a sec," Errant, you suddenly have a whole bunch more targets as the cast of a dozen action movies swarms you all at once. "You know? And then suddenly people - rude people - keep bringing up your girlfriend and it's like - and it's like, she's trying to change you, but not like, nagging but just by being like insidious and cute and shit and then one day you wake up and you realize that your priorities are all upside down and you're having second thoughts about blowing up the Golden Gate Bridge? Fuck that! It's been my dream since I was five to blow up the Golden Gate Bridge! And I'm going to do it! Because that's what freedom means!" is she crying? "Anyway do you know what the divorce rate is like? It's crazy! How do you know anything would last, that's all I'm saying, you give up your freedom and what do you get? Why do people want to put labels on everything anyway? You know what you can trust? Your own two fists and hard cash. That's all I'm saying. Anyway, it's not like any of this means anything to me, like, I'm a total badass. I'm going to prove how little it means, it's all just about money anyway. @Sarahphim's like the original material girl, you should learn something from her, and from me, when I marry her just to steal her money and prove that marriage is just, like, a contract man. Thank you for listening."

At this point she finally gets around to pointing a gun at you, @Sarahphim. "Shut up. Sign the thing."

Brainstorm!

At no point during this has Dominus loosened that chain from around your neck. You're choking, gagging, vision blurring -

And then your vision is filled with robot lenses - one set familiar, one set the glowing red multiplex eyes of a Martian Kingbot.

"We should help him," said Prometheus.
"Sometimes humans like being choked," said Bode.
"Why?" said Prometheus.
"The adrenaline hit can assist in coupling." said Bode.
"That seems evolutionarily suboptimal," said Prometheus.
"Nevertheless," said Bode. "I ordinarily wouldn't bring it up, but this is a wedding, which is itself an elaborate coupling ritual and what are called 'meme weddings' are a human trend these days."
"I see," said Prometheus. "So we shouldn't help him?"
"We should ask him first," said Bode. "We don't want to make it weird."

The robot lenses swivel down to you as you gasp on the edge of consciousness.

"Would you like us to help you?" said Prometheus. "Or is this a sex thing?"

This is fine. This is okay, he can deal with this. This is a solvable problem. He's got nanite arms already, that's like fifteen swiss army knives already. There's a solution here that doesn't involve explaining breathplay to a four-year-old and

And

Feeling kinda lightheaded

Hee! Light headed! Because of the sawblades! That's it! He can cut off his own head! Saw off the neck! Take that, Dominos! Can't choke him out if the neck's gone!

Granted, that means he'll need to get fitted for a new collar, but that's a fun date to have so, all in all, net win!

Oh. And also develop a life-saving method of preserving the spine, carotid, jugular, and windpipe, all in a matter of seconds. Hrm.

Right. Table the sawblade for now.

And really, Prometheus, he thought he taught you better than this. You shouldn't ask two yes-no questions back to back, even if the answer is the same to both.

"Gk-erk-Hlp-ack"

“Dominus,” Sara says, in that tone of voice. The carnival barker. The are you all watching? And almost everybody knows it. Almost everybody. “I will marry you.”

Gasps! Is this a sudden plot twist? Was this the plan all along? Did Sara spend years stringing Euna along just so she could pull this off?? Or, less outrageously, is this a weird charity thing she’s doing? Speculation runs rampant as Sara steps inside the radius of the rock-steady gun, well aware that Dominus could easily throat-punch her. But throat-punches don’t go off on accident. Usually.

“But Euna has spent the last three years earning the right to get to call herself my bride,” she says, hamming it up. It’s not yelling, but she knows how to project to an audience. “Three years, Dommy! During which she overcame every challenge, every doubt, every hurdle! And now you want to come in and get to say you were my wife for the rest of your life?”

She breathes in deep, eliciting gasps as she subjects herself deliberately to Dominus’s mind control, challenging her. You could use it. Or...

“Not unless you beat me in a wedding challenge. Then you get everything. The certificate. The money. Euna’s dress.” She turns and mugs to the audience. “(Trust me, she looks much better without it.)” Nervous laughter! Aren’t we having so much fun, Dommy?

@SARAHPHIM snaps her fingers imperiously, the sound distinct and crisp in the cavernous hall. “Somebody get me the good champagne and the shot glasses from the back! Last woman standing gets the prize!”

Euna Kim is fighting twenty armed terrorists dressed in Sara's backup costumes. She jumps up and split-kicks two of them in the chest, then grabs a third by the back of the head and slams him into the ground on her way down. She bends over backwards out of the way of a punch, dropping lower and lower until her head brushes against the ground before her heel digs in and her legs whip her back to standing in an impossible arc that ends in a vicious headbutt just like the ones from the incredible series finale of Princess Champions of Hyperborea. She grabs an arm, she's not sure whose, and hip checks the woman attached to it into three of her friends. She knee drops the pile for good measure.

There's a couple of people still watching her do it. A camera drone or three angling for closeups. It's mostly just to get a reaction shot of her face. How will the blushing, battling bride-to-be react to this stunning new development? Will scream? Swear? Angrily leap across the stage and demand right then and there to be dealt in? Euna come on you just started drinking, you can't even handle a Smirnoff Ice! Not the point! It's something like that, right? Right? Scale of one to ten, how mad is she?

Wait, what? She's... smiling? She looks... gosh, wow. Smitten. Just completely dreamy-eyed and elated. That's the right word, yeah? Yeah. Elated. No no, wait! That's pride. She looks proud. She swerves out of the line of a hail of gunfire without even glancing at the barrel. See, if it were her over there... well, you can guess. Dominus has a total monopoly on Euna's list of faces she'd really love to punch but for various reasons probably never will. There's nothing that would thrill her more than to see Sara get as angry as she just did and start spitting fire and hardlight.

But, you know? Just look at her over there. The way she's controlling the scene. The way she's keeping her audience guessing, and de-clawing Dominus in a way that... it's so cute, actually. It's so Sara. But it's perfect because she's not cutting off Dominus' lifeline. Conflict resolution with consideration toward rehabilitation. But still kinda alpha-bitch posturing? It's like Euna rubbed off on her, but in the Saraiest way possible. This is such a clever way to play for time!

She... she is playing for time, right?

Euna Kim is fighting ten, no sorry, eight armed terrorists dressed in Sara's backup costumes. Give her another minute and she'll be fighting none. But even with nobody to keep her busy, she'll still be watching the show. Now, as ever, the Number One Fan. Yeah, you heard her Angelica.

"Gk-erk-Hlp-ack"

The robots are silent for a second as they both run vocal clarification filters. The results are inconclusive, which they fortunately take as evidence for action. Prometheus severs the chains with a precisely applied laser beam and Bode puts a mega-lozenge in your mouth and makes you swallow. Breath starts to return.

Hang on. If Prometheus is in a Martian Kingbot does that mean that Doctor Sylvanius' forces have already...

The main doors are dramatically kicked open and the figure outside is backlit in a spectacular halo of laser light fire. She raises a finger and yells, "I OBJECT!"

@Sarahphim!

On the one hand, Dominus is a bio-scientist with a variety of organ enhancements that give her superhuman abilities when it comes to processing toxins. On the other hand she has a pretty significant head start when it comes to getting smashed. She's already pretty unsteady when the door comes down and Angel-IKA strides down the aisle, glowing golden. In the backdrop you can see Vault moving like a katana through a crowd of robots, a lifetime of learning to perfectly dodge your laser patterns manifesting itself perfectly as he tears through the machines - here, there, slamming a Repeater down so that Ferraphim1tp (sunk ships never die) can jack a bot and turn its firepower against her foes.

But Angel-IKA is having none of that right now. She's coming down, radiant, eyes like fire. If you did one good thing in your life it was help her redesign her costume. Home-made wolf-hoodies are in the past, now she conveys the aspect of primal savagery alongside her angelic appearance and looks entirely herself.

"H-hey, Angelica," said Dominus, having spilled the champagne all over her biker jacket. "I mean. Ha ha ha! It is too late for you to stop my evil plan!"
"Where the hell have you been, Pasey? I've been worried sick!" said Angel-IKA.
"Oh please, like you care," said Dominus. "We're professionals. Professional rivals. We always knew our jobs would come first."
"Our what!? Our jobs?! Is that what this is about? Pasey, do you have any idea how many laws I broke trying to hunt you down!?"
"You - what? No, Ange, you shouldn't -"
"I blew up a biker bar when they wouldn't give me information!"
"Tell me that wasn't the Crimson Roadhouse -"
"I hijacked a train so that I could steal a spy satellite!"
"You stole a -"
"I dangled the CEO of Crown and Slate off a building for information!"
"Mr. Blutcher? You threatened Mr. goddamn Blutcher!?"
"Of course I did, Pasey!" said Angel-IKA. "And then I crashed a stolen car through a robot army on my way in so I could get here in time to stop you from doing something stupid!"

Dominus stands there, absolutely flabbergasted. You're right there besides her, @Sarahphim - what do you say?

Sara Jimenez puts a comforting, mentorly arm around dear, sweet Pasey her name is Pasey this must be commemorated. “Pasey,” she says, to Pasey, whose name is Pasey, “take it from me. I have been in your shoes. Right where you are, trying to choose between the show and the girl. You feel like you’re nothing if you’re not living up to your rep, like everybody’s going to forget you. Going with her is a risk, and that’s terrifying. The kind of terrifying that makes you show up drunk at weddings, or vainly try to keep things down low with a one night stand. But between you and me,” and this whole wedding, and everyone watching on stream, “she’s worth more than the show. Being with someone who loves you means more than being on the cover of Excelsior Magazine, twice,” she humblebrags, because she literally can’t help herself. “If you gas her, pistol whip me, and carry off this whole evil scheme without a hitch, you’ll spend the rest of your life burying the regrets. If you go with her now... I can at least tell you that you won’t regret it for a minute, no matter what else happens, Pasey.”

For the first time this whole wedding, she lets her hardlight generator whir to life, and shines a spotlight down on the two, stepping out of the light. It’s their moment.

[9 on a Provoke to “kiss her, stupid.” I would like to suggest that Sara likely has influence over Dominus for that +1.]

Then she trips on a comatose mook and stumbles backwards into the waiting arms of Euna Kim (soon to be Euna Jimenez-Kim, and that only because the other way around is just begging for it to be slurred into “Kimenez,” which isn’t anything).

“Hey there, beautiful,” she says, sotto voce. “Come here often?” Outside, robots are exploding, and where the happy couple should be saying their vows, there stands the new will-they-won’t-they ship teetering on the choice only they can make, in the spotlight, and Sara Jimenez looks up at Euna Kim’s chin and flashes her a cheesy, ridiculous smile, because she can already see that telltale wrinkle of her nose. “I don’t say this often, but are you the deadly sin of pride, sweetheart? Because I think I’m falling for you.”

She wants to frown. It's written all over her face; she's trying so hard to hang onto that righteous anger, or at least some kind of standoffish bereavement. This is, after all, supposed to be her moment. She planned this! She planned this and she planned this, and then after she was done planning she set down those plans and used them as a model so that she could plan. Her seating arrangements were specific. There were contingencies on top of contingencies on top of contingencies, damn it!

And now after all the planning! And the fighting! And getting the lights just where she wanted them! Sara! Is giving! Her stage! To (ppfffffft) Pasey! So yeah! She's mad! Or she's! Snnrrrk! Hahaha no stop that! She's really! Ahahahaha! Mad at! Heheheheeeee! Noooooooo!

She was not supposed to break into fits of full-on gigglesnorts before her vows. But no plan survives first contact with Sara Jiminez (Kim!). She doubles over in fits of hysterical laughter that bring her closer, and closer, and closer to Sara's face. Her cheeks are flush with laughter and then a moment later with girlish glee as their noses brush against each other. Euna stares dreamily right into Sara's dark and sexy eyes. Her fingers trace the contours of Sara's neck. Her lips gently part, and...

"Thanks for volunteering to help me back into my dress before the vows, honey. Oh, and for letting me pick dinner tomorrow! You know, they just opened up a soba bar by the Spire and I heard..."

Oh, Euna.

Victor massages his throat, coughs, tries to speak, and coughs again. Several failed starts later, he finally manages, "s'not a sex thing."

But, that's not important right now. There are martian kingbots to thwart, a stunning vigilante to subtly perv on in ways that won't tip hands to outsiders watching, and above all, a camera to protect.

What, you didn't think he was going to rely on the stream cameras, did you? Sure, they're probably higher quality, but there's a romantic part of him that wants his own copy of this. Something to look back fondly on with found family and adopted children, perhaps.

So as he joins in the fight, Bode on one side and Prometheus on the other, he mostly gravitates to the tripod in the aisle, adjusting it as needed between blows.

An AEGIS Modular Assault Vehicle crashes down the aisle. It runs over Dominus' motorcycle. She doesn't notice immediately because she's busy kissing Angel-IKA, but as she's swept off her feet by the blonde valkyrie and carried towards the door you catch the briefest glimpse of her seeing the ruin of her bike and a very complicated expression taking over her face before the AEGIS elites burst from the doors of the vehicles in all directions.

Amidst them all, the Shogun floats, alight with red demon fire, surrounded by levitating muskets. There's a deafening barrage as she begins firing shot after shot out through the open door, guns cycling in perfectly ordered drill. AEGIS troopers enhance the fusillade with their own weaponry. The door becomes clogged with fallen Kingbots but still they try to climb over their defeated comrades.

The Shogun turns to face you, Errant, and she tosses at your feet the very confused and disoriented celebrant. "We'll have to make this fast," she said, giving you a bright smile. "So - here. My gift to you." She tosses you the keys to the assault vehicle. Then her eyes snap back to the celebrant who gets off her butt in a hurry.

"D-dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate a -" a laser beam cuts through the wall and sets one of the curtains on fire. "- u-union of two beloved heroes um you can exchange vows now."

*

Brainstorm!

That's... that's her! Doctor Sylvanius! The King of Mars! She does not look at all like the pictures.

What you're seeing is a little old lady with Doctor Wiley hair and glasses thick enough to stop a bullet with an adorable little golden crown floating above her head, surrounded by a phalanx of golden-plated battle robots that are laying down a hellstorm of fire. She squints up at you with a face full of smiling wrinkles and a voice like chocolate chip cookies. "Oh hello there dearie. Could you please show me to my seat? I do hope I'm not too late."

Euna catches the keys in a motion born entirely of skillwires. She stands there, holding them awkwardly and grinning from ear to ear as she watches Sara fiddle with the train on her dress. Luckily it was designed with fast assembly/disassembly in mind in case of... well not quite this, but yeah. This. Which, by the way, is still the happiest day of her life so far, don't make any mistake.

There's another round of gunfire from the Shogun's signature Three Line Formation, and Euna suddenly snaps to attention as if somebody had popped the bubble on her dream.

"Hey! HEY!" she shouts over the gunfire, hopping up and down and waving one fluttering sleeve like a flag, "The reception is not cancelled! Do you hear me! It's at 18:00 sharp at the Boulevard on the Pier! Do you hear me? I don't care how many fires there are to put out, you promised me a dance!"

She's in danger of ruining her own wedding if she carries on like this. With a deep breath, she turns and looks at Sara again. Her breath catches; her throat is suddenly dry. Oh wow. Oh holy... wow. She takes Sara's hands in each of hers, catching a set of keys to a Modular Assault Vehicle in between them. She tries to laugh, but it comes out a sniffle.

"I... had a set of vows written up for this, but maybe we should do the short version?"

She pauses for laughter. Get it under control, Euna. Three... two... one... there's a single melodious giggle from the audience. Euna turns her head briefly and nods. Ourania!!

"I just wanna, nnnf, fuck. Sorry, sorry for the... guh. Fuck. Fuck! I shouldn't be crying. You're not supposed to cry at your own wedding, right? Fuck! Listen, Sara, I... ggggh, aaaahhh, come on! Ok, I just, just... hoooo. Ok. I'm sorry. I really wanted this to be special. I wanted to be clever and funny and memorable, so when you thought of... ne-never mind. There's so many nights I, snnnnff! I still lie there in bed wondering what the hell I did to deserve you. All the second chances and the take backs and the time to figure things out. For someone like me, it's... I don't really, you know, have a lot to offer in exchange. I can't give you all the things that you deserve. B-but I... gggghhhaaaa, come on!

I, I promise, ok? I'm always gonna be there, watching over you. If you can't walk, I'll be the one who carries you. If you're falling, I'll catch you. If you're... if you're drifting out there, alone, I wanna be the one standing there, reaching out for your hand. A, always. I love you. I love you so much. So if you'll... if I'm still good enough, then be mine. And make me yours. And... wow, god, I want to kiss you so badly right now."

The tears stream down her cheeks, carrying no makeup with them. She thought of this, too. Euna's lips are quivering in a smile, and she watches Sara, her beautiful wife, and waits for her reply. All around here there's lasers and flintlocks and fighting, and Euna Kim, Little Miss Mission First, has no eyes or ears for any of it. Her heart doesn't dare beat right now, in case it makes her miss anything important.

Sara Jimenez squeezes her wife's fingers, and slowly breathes out through her nose. It's a miracle that Euna gets to feel that squeeze, the sweatiness of Sara's hands, the warmth of their touch. It's an even better miracle that the two of them get to stand up here; that they get to have this.

"I had my career planned out," Sara says, her eyes wet but her voice even and steady. "I was going to string my whole team along for fandom clout and shipping wars, so that I would be big and controversial and popular. Because that was the only way for me to be safe. If I didn't have everyone's eyes on me, I'd fall between the cracks." Her grip tightens. It would be gauche to talk about hunger. At her own wedding? She can't talk about wanting to eat the whole world if it made her whole. "And then I met this nerd with a stick up her ass. She was a tiny munchkin with a rules fetish and an encyclopedic knowledge of the Duelist movies, and when I saw her, I was like, okay, here's the corporate snitch, better play ball so she doesn't whine to her handlers."

She rubs a circle around the side of Euna's palm with her thumb, and looks the bride the eyes. "And then she took the stick out of her ass and used it to kick ass. She saved my life more times than I can count, taught me that love is stronger than any curse, and tossed my entire shipping chart right out the window. And then I strung her along, tried to make us just friends with benefits, and, yeah, I deserved to be kicked to the curb. But she didn't. She gave me another chance to get my head straight, or, well, you know. Not straight at all. But she didn't abandon me. She didn't leave me in the dark. And now I've fooled her into taking care of me for the rest of my life? Like, hun, you know you're getting the raw end of this deal. I'm getting to spend the rest of my life with the most wonderful woman in the whole world, and you're just getting this amazing vag on tap. But if you're sure..."

"I promise that I'll stay," Sara says, even as a chunk of pew hurtles towards them, only stopped at the last second by an expanding mandala in silver and roses and lines that look like skillwires. The celebrant gestures for them to hurry up, please. "Always. Forever. I won't let go." She's crying, now, and her voice is thick, but she keeps forging on without taking a break. "No matter what. Rain, shine, sickness, health, all of that. I'm yours, Euna. And I'll always take that hand."

She sniffles, and finally closes her eyes and lets the happy sobbing out.

And she lets Euna guide her trembling hands up to lift the veil, and then pulls her Eunacorn in for the best kiss in the whole world, because the whole world is a knight and her princess, and their cheeks are wet with joy, and the tightness in her chest is fireworks forever and ever, world without end. All around them, hardlight blossoms in unconscious patterns, wings and shining eyes and shining mail arms choked with roses, and her hand is cradling the small of Euna's back, and their tears intermingle, and whatever the celebrant's saying to make it official is so much noise.

They've already done the important part. Everything else is just paperwork for other people to keep up with them.

They've already done the important part. Everything else is just paperwork for other people to keep up with them.

That's... that's her! Doctor Sylvanius! The King of Mars! She does not look at all like the pictures.

What you're seeing is a little old lady with Doctor Wiley hair and glasses thick enough to stop a bullet with an adorable little golden crown floating above her head, surrounded by a phalanx of golden-plated battle robots that are laying down a hellstorm of fire. She squints up at you with a face full of smiling wrinkles and a voice like chocolate chip cookies. "Oh hello there dearie. Could you please show me to my seat? I do hope I'm not too late."

Who?

No, sorry, he obviously knows who she is. And it's a big deal that she's here in a non-city-crushing capacity--his sister folks! Shogun couldn't stop the war, but a wedding can!--but he's focused on other things right now.

"No, I think you're just in time," he breathes, eyes awash with tears. "This way. They've just said their vows. And would you look at this, the seating chart says you have, oooh, every seat to choose from."

"Oh, well that's lovely news," said Doctor Sylvanius, reaching up to pinch your cheek affectionately. "What a lovely young man you are." She goes ahead and dodders inside, sitting right at the back as the Kingbots continue their rampage, met with the combined energy of all those who fight for the smiles of others.

*

"Don't let her give you any shit," said JuneBird - having not quite finished chewing through her restraints but still having made it down the aisle to congratulate you as you pass.
Johnathan Jonestar had flexed magnificently but silently, tears running down his eyes, the ultimate sign of respect between warriors.
"This is amazing!" said Cinders, shaking smoke off the edge of her fists. For the past three years she's just been practicing with the augments she has. She has decided to at least graduate from university before she commits to the hero lifestyle - but from the grin she's giving you think that it might be for her after all. "Thank you for everything!"
*teleports behind u* "look after urself, kiddo," said Vault.

Surrounded by the cheers, tears and best wishes of all your friends and allies, it's a short walk down the aisle to the Assault Vehicle. The key turns in the ignition and the engine purrs like a lynx, and in its voice is the promise of anywhere.

THE END