By evening, the sun had already sunk behind the hills, leaving only a smear of gray light along the horizon.
In the open space of Sanctuary Hills, Anthony crouched beside the campfire, clutching the mini nuke in his hands and turning it over again and again.
Josh stood guard at the bridgehead, gripping his rifle and staring hard down the road they had come from.
Emma leaned against the wall beside him, her eyes fixed on that same empty road.
Inside the house, several seriously wounded people lay resting.
Sturges was not there.
The couple who had been turning the soil were quietly changing the wounded people’s dressings.
The campfire crackled, scattering a few sparks before they quickly faded.
Josh spoke, his voice hoarse.
“What time is it?”
Emma shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
The silence pressed down until it was hard to breathe.
It lasted for several long seconds.
Anthony stood up and carefully set the mini nuke on the muddy ground by his feet.
“Maybe…
I should go look for them?”
Josh glanced at him.
“Look where?”
Anthony opened his mouth, but in the end, not a single word came out.
He wilted and crouched back down.
Emma spoke softly.
“Wait a little longer.”
Silence settled again.
Then Josh straightened and took one step forward.
“That’s…”
Emma followed his gaze.
At the end of the road, three blurry figures finally staggered into view.
Josh’s grip on his rifle loosened slightly.
He did not lower it, but he did not raise it either.
He just stared.
When they came a little closer, he could finally make them out.
Preston and Sturges were in front, walking unsteadily, but both of them were laughing.
Jace was at the back.
He was wearing T-45 Power Armor, carrying the T-51 on one shoulder with one hand.
The iron-gray armor weighed down on him, and every step landed with a dull thud.
In his other arm, he held the power armor frame they had fished out of the lake.
It was black with rust, but the frame was still intact.
Behind him, he dragged a sled with a rope tied around his body.
A T-60 lay on the sled, with a large wooden crate piled beside it, packed full of ammunition.
He moved forward one step at a time, unable to straighten his back or take a proper stride.
Every step looked as if he were walking through mud.
Anthony stood at the bridgehead.
His throat moved, and his voice trembled with excitement he could not suppress.
“…They’re back.”
Emma slowly lowered her gun, and Josh loosened his grip as well.
The two of them stood there, watching the three figures draw closer.
The three of them stood in place, watching those figures approach step by step.
Firelight flickered across their faces, bright one moment and dim the next.
“Stop fucking staring!” Jace shouted at them.
“Get over here and help me!
I’m about to die!”
Anthony was the first to rush out, with Josh and Emma right behind him.
The three of them ran to Jace, looked at the mass of heavy metal piled on his body, in his arms, and behind him, and for a moment, none of them knew what to take first.
Jace turned his head with effort and jerked it toward the sled.
“The sled.
Pull the sled away.”
Anthony looked down at the heavy sled and carefully untied the thick rope around Jace’s waist.
“Got it.
We can pull this.”
Josh and Emma immediately stepped in to help, and the three of them dragged the sled slowly into Sanctuary Hills.
Jace drew a breath and followed them one step at a time.
A silver figure drifted soundlessly over from the center of the camp and settled steadily beside Jace, its mechanical arms leaning forward slightly.
“Sir.” Codsworth extended a mechanical arm.
“Do you require assistance?”
Jace glanced over.
Preston and Sturges were stumbling ahead with the suitcases, so exhausted they could barely straighten their backs.
“Help those two carry the suitcases instead.
I’m fine.”
Codsworth’s optical sensors curved slightly.
It floated over to them and extended its mechanical arms.
Sturges did not refuse.
He lifted the two suitcases in his hands and passed them over.
Codsworth took them steadily and held them suspended in the air.
Preston waved him off, panting, though there was still a smile tugging at his mouth.
“No need.
Just a few more steps.
I can manage.”
“Very good.” Codsworth replied, then floated into Sanctuary Hills ahead of them with the suitcases.
Preston and Sturges finally reached the campfire.
Preston set his suitcase down, immediately bent over with his hands on his knees, and gasped for breath, unable to straighten up for a long while.
Jace finally reached the campfire too, one step at a time.
The T-51 on his shoulder had pressed down on him the whole way.
The rusty frame in his arms had dug into him the whole way.
Now, at last, he had made it back.
He slowly bent down and first set the T-51 gently on the ground.
The heavy armor hit the earth with a deep thud.
Then he lowered the rusty frame from his arms, and the rusted metal struck the muddy ground with a clang.
After catching his breath for a moment, Jace raised his hand and pressed the unlock button inside the power armor.
It was an internal lock that could only be triggered while wearing the suit.
The gears clicked softly, and the outer armor plates slowly opened backward, without the exhausting effort of turning the external release wheel.
Click.
Click.
Click.
The armor plates opened behind him.
Jace stepped out of the armor and took one step forward.
His legs gave out.
He toppled forward and collapsed face-first onto the ground.
His face pressed against the mud.
It was cold.
The campfire’s light fell across his back.
It was warm.
Every bit of strength had been drained from his body.
He did not even have the energy to lift a hand.
The people around him froze for a moment, then gathered around.
“Jace!”
Sturges reached out to help him.
“Come on, get up.” He tugged at Jace’s arm.
“You can’t just lie there like that.”
Jace was half-helped, half-dragged up and slumped into a nearby chair, his legs stretched straight out, unwilling to move even a little.
Codsworth floated over with a cup of water and held it out to him.
“Have some water, sir.”
Jace took it and gulped some down.
Water leaked from the corner of his mouth and ran down his chin.
He took another gulp, then handed the cup back to Codsworth.
“Another cup.”
Codsworth took the cup and turned to pour more water.
“Sturges.”
“…What is it?”
Jace pointed at the power armor he had just taken off.
The T-45 Power Armor stood about two meters behind him.
“Don’t let ordinary people go near it for the next two days.
And don’t touch it yourself.”
Sturges nodded, understanding at once.
“Don’t worry.
I know what I’m doing.
I won’t mess with it.”
He knew what had happened.
After the three of them followed the tracks, they had taken the ammunition and the rusted power armor frame from the junkyard.
Then they had gone out of their way to Fiddler’s Green Trailer Estates, cleared a few wandering Ghouls along the way, and rescued a man with an injured ankle from the basement of the estate.
The man had been crouched on the ground, struggling to assemble a signal transmitter to call for help, so they simply pulled him out.
Finally, inside a locked RV, they found the remains of a soldier, and beside those remains, an intact T-60 Power Armor set.
On the way back, Jace had completely exhausted himself and could no longer keep going.
In the end, he had Sturges remove the radiation shield from the power armor after it had been repaired, using the radiation leaking from the operating fusion core to recharge himself.
Only then had he managed to drag all that equipment back to Sanctuary Hills, one step at a time.
Jace took the second cup of water from Codsworth, drank it in a few gulps, shoved the cup back, then leaned backward and collapsed along with the chair onto the muddy ground.
He lay on his back, facing the gray sky.
The campfire’s light did not reach his face, leaving only a dark outline.
His voice was as faint as a sigh.
“Let me lie here for a while.”
When Jace opened his eyes, it was already full daylight.
Morning light slipped through the cracks in the ruined house’s door, cutting a bright line across the floor.
He did not move right away.
His whole body ached.
Shoulders, back, waist.
There was not a single part of him that did not feel sore, swollen, and heavy.
He slowly sat up from the worn wooden bed and carefully rolled his shoulders.
His bones gave a few dry cracks.
From outside came Codsworth’s clear counting voice.
“…Five fusion cores, four hundred and forty fusion cells, five laser rifles.
Six hundred .45 rounds, eight hundred .38 rounds, two hundred .308 rounds, one hundred and fifty .50 rounds.
Twenty-five thousand pre-War US dollars…”
Jace stood and pushed the door open.
The sunlight was a little dazzling.
He narrowed his eyes.
Codsworth was hovering beside the dead campfire, its three mechanical arms each busy with a task.
One held a ledger, one held a pen, and one pointed at the small mountain of supplies piled on the ground.
A ring of people surrounded the campfire.
Preston was crouching.
Sturges was sitting.
Anthony stood nearby.
Josh and Emma were guarding the perimeter with their guns, but their eyes were also fixed on the pile of equipment.
Codsworth continued reading.
“One T-51 Power Armor set, intact.
One T-60 Power Armor set, intact.
One power armor frame, rusted but structurally complete.”
Jace walked over and stood beside it.
Codsworth turned its head.
“Good morning, sir.”
Jace nodded slightly and looked down over the equipment scattered across the ground.
Codsworth held the ledger out to him.
“Inventory completed, sir.
Would you like to review it?”
Jace took the ledger and skimmed it quickly.
The handwriting was neat, the categories were clear, and the numbers were dense but easy to understand at a glance.
He looked up at everyone.
Preston stared at the small mountain of supplies in front of him without speaking for a long time.
Sturges sat nearby, holding a shiny military .38 round in his hand, rubbing it over and over as he muttered in disbelief, “This kind of thing…
back then, I didn’t even dare dream about it.
Barely ever saw it.”
Anthony remained standing where he was, his eyes glued to the pile of equipment, burning with excitement.
He could not bring himself to look away for a long time.
Silence spread for a while before Preston finally spoke slowly, his voice a little hoarse.
“Back in Quincy, when Colonel Hollis was still alive, all the ammunition in the hands of the entire Minutemen force put together didn’t amount to half of this pile.”
He paused.
His throat moved hard, and his tone grew heavier.
“Same with the guns.
The few decent ones we had were stripped from corpses.”
Sturges raised the military .38 round and held it up to the sunlight.
“One of these is worth five ordinary .38 rounds.
Back then, if we had one, we’d wish we could split it in half.”
Anthony finally tore his gaze away and looked at Jace, emotion in his voice.
“What you dragged back yesterday would’ve been enough for the Minutemen to drive off those Gunners and hold Quincy.”
Preston stood and slowly walked to the pile of supplies, then gently ran his hand over the leg armor of the T-60 Power Armor.
“Back then, even a General of the Minutemen might not have been able to wear gear like this.
Now we have it.”
He crouched, picked up a well-maintained Pre-war military laser rifle, ran his hand over the weapon, studied it for a moment, then gently set it back down.
When he looked at the neatly stacked ammunition crates, his eyes had softened.
“I used to wonder what it would feel like to fight without counting every bullet.”
He gave a quiet laugh, full of relief.
“Now I know.”
Sturges picked up a fusion core and weighed it in his hand.
“Once the camp settles down, we could take this to Diamond City and trade it for a lot of things we badly need.”
Anthony looked at him and asked casually, “What would you trade for?”
Sturges thought for a moment.
“A proper workbench and a set of tools.
With those, we can repair armor, modify guns, and do a lot more afterward.
The camp will be much more secure.”
Preston nodded slowly, his voice steady.
“First, we make it through this winter.”
They fell silent again.
No one spoke.
Only the wind pushed dry leaves across the ground, so softly it was almost inaudible.
The sun rose a little higher, its warm light spilling over the neatly stacked ammunition crates and the two gleaming sets of power armor, giving this ruined, desolate Sanctuary Hills a sense of safety they could actually see and touch.
Jace looked at the people gathered around the pile of supplies.
“Don’t tell me you all stood here staring at this all night.
Wait, have you even eaten?”
As soon as he said it, everyone turned to look at him.
Their eyes were still full of lingering emotion.
None of them tried to hide it.
They simply looked dazed.
Preston shook his head slightly, his voice hoarse and tired.
“No appetite.
Couldn’t think about food.”
Anthony and Sturges nodded as well, their eyes drifting back to the supplies before returning to Jace.
Jace looked at them and smiled.
“Eat first.
If you accidentally starve to death, all this stuff will just go to someone else.”
As soon as he finished, Anthony was the first to snap out of it and turned toward the steaming soup pot in the corner of the camp.
Sturges immediately stood too, brushed the dust off his pants, and followed.
Josh and Emma lowered their guns and went with them toward the place where food was being served.