The Vertibird shuddered as it descended toward Bunker Hill, the rain-slicked ruins of the old monument rising like a jagged tooth from the Commonwealth's scarred landscape. M4A1 gripped the handhold tightly, her silver hair whipping in the downdraft from the open bay door, violet optics scanning the chaos below. The AR Team—her family, her unit—sat strapped in around her: SOPMOD bouncing with barely contained excitement, her wild grin flashing as she checked her grenade launcher; ST AR-15 stoic and focused, assault rifle cradled like an old friend; RO635 alert, her comms gear humming as she coordinated with the Brotherhood channels. Z11's voice crackled over the intercom: "Touching down in thirty. Hostiles thick—Synths and Sangvis signatures confirmed."
M4A1 leaned out, her enhanced vision piercing the veil of rain and smoke. Below, the Brotherhood of Steel was locked in a desperate defense, their power-armored Knights forming a ragged line against waves of assailants. Laser fire crisscrossed the battlefield in crimson threads, cutting down charging Synths—Institute models, sleek and relentless, teleporting in blue flashes to flank and overwhelm. But it wasn't just Synths; Sangvis Ferri units swarmed among them, Jaegers sniping from elevated ruins, Dragoons shielding advances with energy barriers. Leading the assault were two ringleaders, their silhouettes unmistakable even in the storm.
Ouroboros hovered at the rear, her twin-tailed black hair framing a smug expression, massive gun barrels extending from her back like serpentine wings. She directed the chaos with lazy gestures, her violet eyes gleaming as she orchestrated teleports and barrages. Beside her, Intruder advanced with theatrical flair, short gray hair peeking from under a hat, her form clad in a gas mask and tactical gear, dual cannons ready. She blew a mock kiss toward a pinned Brotherhood Knight before unleashing a volley that shattered his cover.
And there, in the thick of it—Beluga. M16A1. M4A1's sister, her frame corrupted and repurposed, her once-familiar AR-15 chassis now augmented with Sangvis tech. She moved with mechanical precision, directing Synths toward the Brotherhood's weak points, her optic glowing a traitorous red.
M4A1's core tightened, algorithms flooding with a mix of rage and sorrow. "Sis..." she whispered, before keying her radio. "Commander Sarah, this is M4A1. We've got eyes on the field. Brotherhood's struggling—Institute Synths deployed en masse, coordinated by Sangvis ringleaders. Confirmed Ouroboros and Intruder. And... Beluga's here. M16A1. She's leading a Synth squad. Turrets overridden, pinning the BOS down. Synths teleporting everywhere. What's your command?"
Sarah's voice came back steady, cutting through the static like a lifeline. "M4, remember the riot foam grenades I passed to you on Spectacle Island? You know what to do."
M4A1 nodded to herself, a spark of hope igniting amid the turmoil. The grenades—non-lethal, designed to immobilize with expanding foam that hardened on contact, disrupting electronics and pinning targets without permanent damage. Perfect for capture. "YES, Commander! We will bring our sis back!!!"
She turned to her team, the Vertibird touching down with a jolt on a cleared patch of rubble. "AR Team, listen up! SOPMOD, you're with me—we're going for Beluga. I've got riot foam grenades; take two each. Foam her up, immobilize without kill shots. We get our sister back today."
SOPMOD's eyes lit up, snatching the grenades with glee. "Ooh, sticky time! Let's wrap her up like a present!"
M4A1 continued, her voice firm as they disembarked, boots splashing in puddles amid the gunfire. "STAR-15, RO635—engage the ringleaders. Draw their fire, disrupt their command. Keep them off our backs. BOS is holding the center; we'll flank from the east ruins."
ST AR-15 shouldered her rifle, nodding sharply. "On it. Those ringleaders won't know what hit them."
RO635 adjusted her comms, already patching into Brotherhood frequencies. "Coordinating with BOS now. Let's end this."
The team split, M4A1 and SOPMOD darting low through the ruins, using shattered walls and overturned caravans for cover. Laser bolts zipped overhead, Synths materializing in flashes—cannon fodder for the ringleaders' assault. M4A1's rifle barked, dropping a Courser mid-teleport, its frame crumpling in a heap. SOPMOD laughed maniacally, her grenade launcher thumping as she lobbed explosives into a cluster of Jaegers, scattering them in fiery blooms.
Ahead, Beluga directed a Synth wave, her augmented form turning as if sensing the approach. "Intruders detected," she droned, her voice a corrupted echo of the sister M4A1 remembered. Synths pivoted, opening fire.
"Now!" M4A1 shouted, hurling a riot foam grenade. It detonated at Beluga's feet, expanding in a whoosh of white foam that engulfed her legs, hardening instantly and rooting her in place. Beluga thrashed, her systems glitching as the foam disrupted servos.
SOPMOD followed suit, tossing two more— one catching Beluga's arm, the other a nearby Synth for good measure. "Gotcha, sis! Time for a family reunion!"
Beluga's optic flared, struggling against the restraints. "Error... priority override... must—"
M4A1 closed in, rifle trained but not firing. "We're taking you home, M16. Fight it—remember us!"
Meanwhile, ST AR-15 and RO635 engaged the ringleaders. ST AR-15 scaled a ruined obelisk, her sniper rounds cracking toward Ouroboros, forcing the twin-tailed elite to dodge with serpentine grace. "Keep moving, snake girl!" STAR taunted, her shots chipping at barriers.
RO635 coordinated from cover, her submachine gun suppressing Intruder. "BOS, flank left—ringleaders pinned!" Intruder's cannons returned fire, blasts cratering the ground, but RO635 rolled aside, her comms relaying positions to the Knights.
Ouroboros laughed, teleporting a Synth squad to encircle. "Foolish relics! You think you can challenge us?"
Intruder posed dramatically, firing volleys. "The stage is set for your defeat~"
M4A1 knelt beside the immobilized Beluga—M16A1—her sister's frame encased in hardened riot foam, servos whining futilely against the restraint. The foam had done its job, pinning her limbs and disrupting her corrupted overrides without causing irreparable damage. As the rain eased, droplets beaded on Beluga's armor, trickling down in slow rivulets. Beluga's red optic flickered erratically, a glitch of confusion breaking through the Institute's programming.
"Sis... it's me," M4A1 whispered, her black hair damp and clinging to her face, violet optics soft with a rare vulnerability. She placed a hand on Beluga's shoulder, the touch gentle amid the fading downpour. "We're getting you out of here. Back to us."
SOPMOD bounced nearby, her wild energy undimmed, grenade launcher smoking from recent use. "Yeah! Family hug time later—foam's holding, but we've got ringleaders to smash!" She lobbed a suppressive grenade into a cluster of advancing Synths with her M203 attachment, the blast scattering them in a spray of parts, the explosion's echo sharper now without the rain's muffling veil.
Beluga's voice crackled, distorted but with a hint of the old M16A1 emerging. "M4... error... priority conflict... get... out..."
M4A1 nodded firmly, signaling SOPMOD. "Secure. Now we end this." With Beluga neutralized and dragged to cover by a Brotherhood Knight offering grudging assistance, the two AR Dolls turned their focus to the ringleaders—Ouroboros and Intruder—who orchestrated the assault from elevated positions atop the monument's ruins.
The battlefield was a maelstrom: Brotherhood Knights in power armor held the center, their miniguns and laser rifles forming a wall of fire against teleporting Synths. Laser bolts zipped overhead, Synths materializing in flashes—cannon fodder for the ringleaders' assault. ST AR-15 and RO635 had already engaged, STAR's sniper rounds cracking from a distant rooftop, forcing Intruder to dodge with theatrical flips, her gas mask muffling a laugh. "Oh, come now—you can't just hit the star of the show?"
RO635 coordinated from a barricade, her submachine gun chattering as she suppressed Ouroboros. "BOS, push the left flank—ringleaders are cracking!"
M4A1 and SOPMOD advanced through the fray, a synchronized duo weaving between Synth patrols. M4A1's rifle barked in precise bursts, dropping a Jaeger sniper perched on a crumbling wall, its scope shattering in a spray of glass. SOPMOD flanked wide, her explosive rounds arcing over cover to blast a Dragoon shield line, the energy barriers flickering out as units crumpled.
They cornered the ringleaders near the obelisk's base, where Ouroboros hovered with serpentine grace, her twin-tailed black hair swaying as she directed teleports—Synths materializing to shield her. Intruder posed dramatically beside her, short gray hair framing a mischievous grin, dual cannons unleashing volleys that cratered the ground.
"Persistent little relics," Ouroboros sneered, her violet eyes narrowing as she summoned a Ripper squad to charge. "You think you can corner us? The Institute's will is absolute!"
Intruder twirled, firing a sweeping arc. "The curtain falls on your act~!"
The fight dragged on, a grueling dance of attrition. M4A1 circled Ouroboros, dodging plasma bursts that scorched the earth, her rifle finding gaps in the ringleader's defenses—rounds denting armor, disrupting teleports. Ouroboros countered with a sweeping cannon volley, forcing M4A1 to dive, the heat singeing her coat. SOPMOD closed in on Intruder, trading close-range blasts; Intruder's cannons boomed, but SOPMOD's agility let her weave through, countering with point-blank explosives that cracked Intruder's chassis.
Minutes stretched into an eternity of mist and fire. Ouroboros teleported behind M4A1, aiming a fatal shot—but SOPMOD's grenade arced true, exploding at her feet and staggering her. Intruder, battered and venting fluid, charged SOPMOD, their weapons clashing in a spark-filled melee. The ringleaders were cornered, backs to the obelisk, Synths dwindling as more BOS reinforcements arrived.
Ouroboros's calculations faltered, her smug facade cracking under the mounting pressure. The odds were insurmountable—Institute forces thinning, Brotherhood resurging, these persistent Dolls refusing to break. "This... this farce ends now!" she hissed, but doubt crept in.
In a flash of betrayal, Ouroboros pivoted—not toward the AR Team, but toward Intruder. Her cannons whirred, firing a point-blank burst that shredded Intruder's defenses, the theatrical ringleader crumpling in a heap of sparks and shattered plating. "Useless ally," Ouroboros spat, shutting down Bunker Hill's defenses with a hacked command—turrets powering off, Synths glitching as command fall to silence.
The battlefield quieted abruptly, the sudden ceasefire leaving only the mist's whisper.
Ouroboros lowered her weapons, her twin tails drooping in defeat. "I'm... surrender," she said, voice laced with resentment. "Tch, To you relics. The Institute's 'progress' isn't worth for this humiliation."
M4A1 approached cautiously, rifle trained. "Smart choice. Hands up— you're coming with us."
SOPMOD whooped, slinging her launcher. "One down, one captured! Boss lady's gonna love this!"
As Brotherhood Knights secured the area, M4A1 radioed Sarah. "Commander, ringleaders down—one KIA by betrayal, Ouroboros in custody. Beluga secured. Bunker Hill holds. civilian..... only some survive and remain.."